I’m headed out of town this morning for a couple of days of team building and professional development (in Boston!) with my colleagues but wanted to share this freebie with you before I left.

Grubbly Farms was a new-to-me company, shared in a Facebook group for Maine chicken keepers. They’re offering 1oz of 100% USA grown black soldier fly larvae, dehydrated into a protein-rich treat for your backyard flock. No strings attached.

I’m always a little skeptical of free offers, and so didn’t want to share this one with you until proven legitimate, but lo and behold, these chicken treats actually did arrive in my mailbox! The label on the package says that the larvae are fed a diet of pre-consumer food waste, diverting those items from the landfill – a practice I can support wholeheartedly.

To get your free Grubblies, complete this form. The shipping takes a while, but if you do it today, they should arrive in time to use as a stocking stuffer, if you so choose!

Have a great week!

 

A rare morning out, just my mother and I, shopping and having lunch like we used to when I lived at home. Our community center hosts a Christmas craft fair each year,  the Saturday after Thanksgiving, filling both their main space and the nearby Masonic hall with crafters and artisans. I had a goal this year to find gifts for at least a handful of the names on my list while supporting the small businesses in our community. We had a nice time chatting with the people we know, and making some small purchases.

A couple of locals to highlight –

– Brianne at Minnehonk Made offers all natural skin and body care items. I love her lip balm, and she has wonderfully smelling beard and body oils. I’ve gifted the lip balms in the past, and find them to be quite affordable.

– Kathy at Sweet Clover Farm crafts woolen dryer balls with fleeces from her own sheep – the same sheep we met at their open farm day last spring. These are a great alternative to toxic dryer sheets, and would make wonderful gifts. She also has felted soaps in her Etsy shop, Pickens Fiber Fun.

And one not local to me, but whose work I love –

– Jessi Leigh Creations specializes in custom crochet work. I’ve loved my Taproot chicken jar since getting it at the Fair last year, but found that it both burned my hand and lost heat quickly, so I asked Jessi to make me a jar cozy. It turned out perfectly, and I love it – it’s been in almost constant use since arriving in the mail. Shoot her a message with with you’re looking for. She also makes beautiful hand-lettered art prints.

Do you have goals for how you choose gifts this year? 

 

I did the math last night: 20 minutes per pound meant 4 hours and 45 minutes in the oven, and so I set my alarm for 5am to have the turkey in the oven by 6, and laid back down for a bit before the girls came running into our room.

Imagine my surprise then when I went to baste the bird and found the button popped and the meat quite literally sliding off the bones into the roasting pan – an hour ahead of schedule. That was a new one for me, being early with the meal.

We departed from several tradtions this year, foregoing the mashed potatoes and bread and green bean casserole, and opting for a marinated bean salad and carrots with chives instead. Red cabbage, stuffing and gravy from scratch, and real homemade whipped cream on our pie. No cream of something soups or overly processed ingredients, and we’ve all seemed to avoid the bloat.

And in other ways, we honored the traditions of times passed. We brought the Coolidge dishes out of storage for our meal – the simple pattern that laid the table of J’s great-grandmother all through my mother-in-law’s childhood. Our turkey sizzled in a roasting pan gifted to J’s grandmother on the occasion of her wedding to his grandpa; it still lives in its original box, and looks like new.

We ate early, and J is already off to his shift at the hospital, working the holiday as so many do. My parents are gone, my girls are sleeping, and I’ve just finished my second piece of pie, watching the Macy’s parade replay.

A calm and simple day with family. I wish the same for you and yours!

An unintended break, but a break nonetheless. Not so much because I consciously felt a need for time away, but perhaps because in the wake of a contentious election and the subsequent oversharing by everyone else, I needed some quiet time to draw inward, to listen and read and absorb. And wait. Wait and see.

And then I went out of town for work, a whirlwind trip that thrust me back into a different world from the one in which I live day to day. I wore heels and pearls and lipstick, and funnily enough, still felt very much myself, if a bit out of practice. It’s a strange dichotomy.

I was, once again, very glad to get home and back into my mama uniform of yoga pants and flannel shirts. We’re prepping for wintry weather here, as things have taken a chilly turn the past several days. The trees are all bare now, and we had our first dusting of snow over the weekend. I stepped outside this evening to visit the chickens, tucking those beloved yoga pants into my boots without socks, and didn’t bother with gloves – a decision I quickly regretted. It is time to make hats and mittens our standard attire. Even Stubby is wearing his sweater to go outside now.

Big Barred Rock and Buttercup
Buttercup, Big, Pinky and Cinderella

Speaking of chickens, we have three new girls – Marigold, Daisy and Daffodil. I believe Marigold is a Golden Comet, and the other two are Barred Rocks, though in naming them, Swee was not clear who was who, so we’ve simply been referring to them as Big and Little. We purchased them from a family who was selling off their little flock, and its estimated that they’re about 2 years old. It’s unclear yet if they’re laying, though I think at least one of them is. Our original three girls lay medium brown eggs, and we’ve begun getting a pale cream colored egg every now and again that I’m assuming is from one of the newbies. With the shorter days, we’re down to 1 or 2 eggs per day; yesterday, we didn’t get any. They’re sweet chickens, and don’t mind being picked up unlike our first three. I’ll have to track down Little and Marigold tomorrow for photos – they were hiding in the coop tonight, scared by the lawnmower.

Dottie on his final day

The whole coop is much calmer with Dottie gone. He was a handsome fellow, but I am glad we don’t have to worry about him any longer. The girls are excited to see me in the morning now, and I haven’t witnessed any scuffles in the run. I made them a pan of nice warm oatmeal this afternoon with strawberry tops and crusts from several peanut butter sandwiches mixed in. They loved it.

J tidied up the yard and shed this weekend, putting away the furniture and toys and wading pool. I brought my thyme and geraniums into the laundry room, but have to figure out what to do with my pot of strawberries and my chives. It looks so empty outside now, the gardens bare and the leaves all gone.

How are you preparing for the coming cold?

I woke up to a mess this morning. Both sides of the double sink were full of pots and pans, and the dishwasher was packed with more dirty dishes. We didn’t even have any clean butter knives to spread peanut butter on the girls’ waffles; I used a spoon. After voting last night, we walked from the community center to the store and bought a couple of six packs before heading home to turn on the tv. This morning, the evidence of that decision was all over the counters, empty. We had eaten a late lunch yesterday, and I couldn’t find the gumption to cook an actual meal, so Snacky Dinner it was: popcorn and craisins, yogurt and apples, pita chips with hummus. Our stuck-up Schnauzer has decided he’s too good to clean up the food his girls drop, and so our living room rug looked like something exploded. A huge pile of laundry was sitting in front of the washer. And yet, I am thankful we have enough to eat to make such a mess, enough to wear that I have to wash it.

We will clean up this mess, together. 

J killed the rooster this morning. We offered Dottie for adoption in multiple places though phone calls and Facebook, but no one wanted him, and he had to go: he attacked Beanie, raking his claws down her back, and my children, my girls, are my priority. She was not seriously injured, but we couldn’t let her near the coop any more without him puffing up and flying at the fence. He even came after me the other night while I was grilling, and that was the last straw. I will not be afraid of the animals who are supposed to be providing for our family. We didn’t have time to prep him for the freezer, and so into the ground he went, back to the earth to nourish new life in the spring. I am thankful I have a husband who is not afraid of hard work, who is willing to stand up and do what needs to be done, again and again, to take care of his family.

We will protect our children, together. 

Maybe I’m kicking a dead horse, but I have to say again how happy I am that we landed in this tiny town. One of our neighbors is organizing a recurring Sunday soup swap at the community center, and invited us to join in. It will be a time to share conversation and break bread together, to warm ourselves and each other with good food and good company, to parent our children as a village and help our neighbors nourish their bodies and their souls. It’s a beautiful idea, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. I am thankful that we chose a kind and loving place to call home.

We will care for our neighbors, and come together as a community. We will love one another, and we will teach our children by example. We will work hard. We will support the helpers. And we will be the change. Together.

 

 

 

My brother had an early flight out and on to his new duty station last Saturday, so I took him to the airport before the sun came up. As I drove the dark and empty roads home, I realized that I probably ought to stop for bread, being that we were out, but I was already past the edge of “town” and well on my way into our tiny village where the store doesn’t open until 7am.

So I raced the dawn over the hills and through the trees. I could see it growing in my rearview mirror, a pale background peeking through the dark stripes of clouds. And I won. I parked at our town beach before the light reached our valley, the lake still inky and steaming. I breathed in the damp chill of the morning and reveled in the silence (oh, the silence!), and then wandered down to the cafe. They have a great view from their backyard, and despite only having my iPhone, I caught the sunrise reflected in the water. Gorgeous and peaceful.

The women inside were just opening for breakfast, and we chatted about the beautiful pink sky as I got more coffee and used their restroom. I dawdled my way through town and stopped to see the stream. It’s finally running and bubbling again after being dry for months. Such a welcome sight and sound.

I bought my bread, and smiled my way back to my car and home to my family to meet the day.

 

I drained my travel mug, but refilled my cup, and you can’t put a price on that.

My mom is an amazingly crafty person. I don’t remember ever having a fully store-bought costume – the kind that comes as a one-piece suit with a mask, or what have you. Sure, as we got older, some of the accessories for our costumes were purchased items, but by and large, our Halloween attire was either entirely hand crafted, or cobbled together with odds and ends from the dress-up bin and around the house. It worked for us. One year, my brother even won a contest for his “banshee” get-up: a cape, a crazy old wig, and googly eyes that he had to squint his face around to hold in place.

Overall, I believe in doing what keeps you sane. Last year, I couldn’t get it together to create costumes, and while I wasn’t happy, it also wasn’t the end of the world. The girls were happy. And if the crafty stuff isn’t your thing, that’s cool. We’ve all got a place to shine, yes?

Well, this is my place. I love Halloween. Not for the fear and the gore and the grotesque, but for the creativity! The opportunity to create. I love the details – the right high-button boots, the authentic Army surplus jacket, the period hairstyle. I love the challenge of pulling it all together with minimal financial investment (hooray for avoiding consumerism), and I think it teaches a good lesson on being resourceful.

I got it together this year, and my littles dressed as the Very Hungry Caterpillar and the Beautiful Butterfly. I spent a whopping total of $19 on red hats, felt for eyes, posterboard and tissue paper for wings, and ribbon to tie both costumes on. We had everything else, and I have a little bit of all the purchased materials left over for future projects.

Everything was freehanded. I made patterns for the wings and caterpillar body out of craft paper, and went from there.

All of the green fabric came from a stash, either mine or my mom’s, and I lined the body with pieces of an old green shirt of hers. Before starting, I had Swee lie down on the paper, and marked her shoulders, waist and knees for reference before sketching out the shape of the body. Rough strips of the green were patchworked together to make segments, and then two pieces were cut out, front and back. I stitched ribbon ties between the segments and the lining at the shoulders and hips so that it would fit over warm clothes (it’s chilly here in Maine!), turned it all right side out, and top-stitched all the way around. I would have liked to stuff the segments to make them fluffy, but ran out of time…and brain power.

The wings are made from a sheet of posterboard with bits of tissue paper decoupaged in layers on top. I referenced the book’s illustrations to mimic the color scheme, but didn’t worry too much about being exact. And I used plain old Elmer’s to glue felt eyes onto the hats. Everything held up pretty well.

We had a good time trick or treating in our little village, and the girls were happy. They cruised around in their wagon and practiced their manners at each doorstep. Our town events committee organized snacks and games in the Community Center, and a “trunk or treat” on the town beach since there aren’t many houses in the village. The library had crafts and the fire department gave out treat bags. We ducked out before the costume contest, and went home to sort our loot before falling into bed. As we were snuggling, Swee began a litany of what she wants to be next year, and the year after that, and the year after that…