Friday, December 21, 2012

it's the end of the world, baby


There's going to be a lot of doomsdaying today and I think we're all expecting that. But something I didn't expect was how I'd really feel about the brevity of my own life when I let myself ponder the big, "what if?" We're about to get all deep and stuff here. 

When I got around to really asking myself how I'd feel if all this Mayan apocalypse stuff really did turn out to be true, I was struck with fear. Fear that I hadn't had enough time yet to get around to actually doing the things I always want to do or plan to do but don't. I'm probably not alone in feeling this way. It's just so easy to put things off for another day. Especially when those things feel so much bigger and cooler than you.

So, here's to taking life by the horns and living each day like it could be your last. Ask yourself how you would live if you weren't afraid of failure, then do it.

I really love positive affirmations so here's a few that really speak to living boldly:






Thursday, December 20, 2012

a hard candy christmas




It's going to be a "hard candy Christmas" here on the farm. It's an old reference to being on such hard times that all you get for gifts is hard candy, fruits, or homemade items. Also- a Dolly Parton song. I must have heard that saying a million times growing up in Eastern Kentucky. People would sigh as they said it, often during particularly difficult years. The Appalachian region of Kentucky has always struggled with financial depression, and it seems no other time is your poorness more on show than at Christmas. Growing up in a middle class family, I personally did not experience one of these such Christmases, but having journeyed into adulthood with a lot of choices that were good for my heart but not so good for my wallet, I'm having my first one this year.

Most gifts will be homemade, thrifted or bought for very little and dinner won't feature a spiral cut ham, oysters, or truffles. But everything under our tree will have been chosen with great care and the food we cook and eat will just be the delicious end to the long relationship we've had with it since we first set tiny seeds in the ground.

Two particular "hard candy Christmas" stories come to mind that I have loved since being a young girl. One comes from the book "Little House in the Big Woods" by Laura Ingalls Wilder. The Christmas passages are so vivid and touching and have always been my favorite parts of the entire Little House series.

Laura tells of the great preparations in the tiny cabin, "Ma was busy all day long, cooking good things for Christmas. She baked salt-rising bread and 'Injun bread,' Swedish crackers, and a huge pan of baked beans, with salt pork and molasses. She baked vinegar pies and dried-apple pies, and filled a big jar with cookies, and she let Laura and Mary lick the cake spoon." 

"One morning she boiled molasses and sugar together until they made the thick syrup, and Pa brought in two pans of clean, white snow from the outdoors. Laura and Mary each had a pan, and Pa and Ma showed them how to pour the dark syrup in little streams onto the snow. They made circles, and curlicues, and squiggledy things, and these hardened at once and were candy."

That was the year that Laura was given her doll Charlotte, made by Ma. 



In "Little House on the Prairie", Christmas almost doesn't happen. There's bad weather and tough times, but Pa and family friend Mr. Edwards walk all the way to Independence. There they meet "Santa" at the general store and are able to bring back gifts for the Ingalls girls. 

"These new tin cups were their very own. Now they each had a cup to drink out of. Laura jumped up and down and shouted and laughed, but Mary stood still and looked with shining eyes at her own tin cup. Then they plunged their hands in to the stockings again. And they pulled out two long, long sticks of candy. It was peppermint candy, striped red and white. They looked and looked at that beautiful candy, and Laura licked her stick, just one lick. But Mary was not so greedy. She didn't take even one lick of her stick."

"Those stockings weren't empty yet. Mary and Laura pulled out two small packages. They unwrapped them, and each found a little heart-shaped cake. Over their delicate brown tops was sprinkled white sugar. The sparkling grains lay like tiny drifts of snow. But that wasn't all...at the bottom of each of their stockings was a bright, shiny, new penny. Mr. Edwards had forged a raging, flooding creek to bring the girls their Christmas, and was rewarded by two of the happiest girls on the prairie."

This year's Christmas will be simple, but it will be so full of joyful memories and thankfulness for the blessings of the year. I have always found it interesting in talking with older people about their happiest of holiday memories- every single time, what they remember most fondly are the Christmases when things are patched together a little more than usual, when things meant more because of the sacrifice or thought involved and the love everything was stitched up with. I am beginning to learn that there's a difference between what you want and what you need. If you're loved, warm and dry, with a full belly and a happy home, you're already richer than many. May you have a very joyful day, no matter what sort of Christmas you may be having. 

Each day leading up to Christmas,  I will be featuring some of the old-fashioned ways we'll be celebrating so be sure to check back! 

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

in anticipation of snow


It seems a funny thing to wish for snow as an adult, and yet, I suppose the heart of a child still beats beneath my chest. Children love snow for many reasons- cancelled school days, a fun and fleeting way to play, and I think, most of all, the sheer wonder of it all. Have you ever sat by a window, warm inside your home, and watched as the wet and heavy flakes floated to the ground? It's the sort of meditation our minds go to all on their own, without needing to be prompted by yoga mats or incense, not that I don't enjoy those things, too. 


In Kentucky, particularly the Appalachian Mountains region, we tend to get some pretty good shots at snow every year, but the most hallowed and wished for of snows is the elusive Christmas Snow. Many children wish to wake to snow on Christmas morn. It lends an element of magic to the holiday and gives families a good nudge to put a fire in the fireplace or share hot chocolate together. To suit up everyone in many, many layers and delight to watch the clumsy, waddling snowball fights ensue.

Now that I am older- a grizzled and wise whole 26 years old!- my wish list has shortened and I admit sadly that some of that wonderful excitement leading up to the holidays has begun to fade. I'm not sure where it went to. I have an inkling that having to be responsible in general tends to edge out that tender sense of awe that can so easily slip away.

All of this to is to say, the weather man says snow is on the way! Tomorrow night AND a good chance for waking up to it on the big day. I'm happy to say I still love a good old-fashioned snowy day and plan to try out homemade snow cream if I have half the chance.


Snow Cream has been traced to a 15th century Dutch recipe and makes a very special treat for children of all ages. It's something old folks speak wistfully of in childhood memories and you can read about in 19th century fiction. So, without further ado, here's how you make it!


  • Gather 8 cups of fresh snow in a large bowl
  • Pour in 1 can of sweetened condensed milk
  • And 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract 
  • Now just stir it up and eat plain or with whatever toppings your heart desires

Monday, December 17, 2012

wandering off into winter


Since my first post, I've been sidetracked. Waylaid. Caught up in a siren song. But now I'm back and  as determined as ever to make my Alpine Flowers dreams materialize. 

I think winter can be a tough time to start new ventures. There's just something about the season that calls you gently to a soft eiderdown and a Netflix marathon. Historically, wintertime has been the much-awaited opportunity for hardworking folks to take it easy and sidle up by the fire while gardens slept and most other work-related projects were put to bed for a few months, too. 

Here on the farm that we rent, this time of year can be pretty uncomfortable- in all the opposite ways that summer is. We heat with a wood-burning stove and keeping a fire going all the time is next to impossible. Once you fall asleep for the night, the fire will die, and when you wake in the morning, you'll shiver for an hour or two waiting on the house to heat back up again. It can be tough to feel  glamourous when you are outfitted in men's longjohns, wooly socks, leather and sherpa moccasins and a blanket trailing behind you. Then there is the matter of taking a bath outdoors! I will say, because I feel I must, that there is no feeling like sitting by a real, wood fire and no view like that when I look up from the old clawfoot bathtub into the endless stars in the night sky. I think people might pay a lot of money at a spa to experience such a wonder! 


And so, despite the lack of easy comforts, it occurs to me that winter blows in quite a lot of gorgeousness to inspire those looking for a spark of vision. The night skies recently have been of the inkiest black and dusted with glittering constellations like I've never seen before. Every bit of plant material has turned to lovely muddled colors. The boughs of juniper berries are heavy and smell delightful and soon snow will blanket the loamy earth, leaving a soft and subdued landscape that sparkles under moonlight. 

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

a sundry basket

wildflowers



This week marks my first as a full-time homesteader. I am so happy to take this leap!

This past weekend, we dug all of our potatoes. The nights have been unseasonably cold here in Kentucky and the mercury was dancing closer and closer to freezing with each week that passed. We made the decision to harvest anything left in the garden that could be affected by a true freeze.

I've also been busy gathering up as many natural dye materials as I can get in before the start to winter. I'll be dyeing my handspun yarns with these in the coming weeks.