Still We Bloom 

Lemon Basil Pesto - no lemons needed! 2 c. fresh lemon basil leaves, packed (remove flowers) 1/2 c. freshly grated Parmesan cheese 1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil 1/3 c. walnuts 3 garlic cloves, minced salt and black pepper to taste Equipment needed: A food processor Combine basil with walnuts, pulse a few times in food processor. Add the garlic, pulse a few more times. Slowly add olive oil while the food processor is on. Add the grated cheese and pulse again until blended. Add

Go big or go home. I know, I know. It's a phrase we all say, but do we ever really "go big"? Go Big is scary. It's actually ludicrous at times. I mean, who am I to think I could actually do something so huge? What if I fail? What if people laugh at me or send me those judgy looks we're all so afraid of? Sometimes going big means 5,000 sunflower seeds. Sometimes it just means getting out of bed and facing the day. Both count. We'll get there. This season's version of me "going

Early summer has a carefree feel to it. It's my favorite part. School's out, the temps are just right, and life feels a little easier. It's the perfect time to text a friend: "Hey, wanna hang out today?" No particular reason. Just cuz. Larkspur is like that. Wispy, blowing in the breeze, not a care in the world. It embodies lightness and whimsy — like the good old days, back when summer felt like it lasted forever. My larkspur patch is here to stay. Every spring it sprouts

Hazel Bleeker, how can I thank you? My mother's mother's mother. I still remember you. How could I forget? A kind, quiet farmer's wife, you were the first adult to treat me as an adult. As a seven year old little girl, you poured coffee for me when mom and I came to visit. More milk than coffee to be sure. That's beside the point. With that simple act of intention you spoke volumes. You said, "I see you. You matter. You're one of us." "You're one of us. You're one of us who c

Do you know the story of Miss Rumphius? It is one of my all time favorite children's books. I have fond memories of reading this to my kids. Maybe you'll like it too. "Miss Rumphius," illustrated and written by Barbara Cooney, is the story of a fictional woman who cast lupine seeds wherever she went. She carried the seeds in her pockets and spread them at every opportunity. To the Post Office, the library, to a friend's home, out for a long walk. Even all over the world! She

So yeah. I'm the flower farm girl. I'm supposed to know how to do this seed starting thing. Welp, I just killed about 90% of the seeds I started. A new grow light, a new system of soil blocking, a new location to start them. I let the seed get too dry, then too wet. Then in my attempts to find my sweet spot, they got too hot. Pretty sure that steam coming off my soil blocks under the light, on top of the heat mat, with the cover on to hold in moisture...is not a good sign. Th

Do you know how therapeutic it is to get your hands in the dirt? Especially in February and March here in Michigan? Come on, people. Tell me I'm not alone. Spring needs to come ASAP to rescue me from my "benauwd" self. My Dutch Great Grandmother pronounced it "ben-OUT." benauwd adjective airless [adjective] (of a room etc) stuffy and without fresh air close [adjective] without fresh air cramped [adjective] feeling uncomfortable because there is not enough space poke

What would happen in our lives if we gathered up the fragments? For me on the farm that means nothing goes to waste. Just yesterday I broke down all the Christmas gift boxes, laid them in between the rows in my peony patch and spread leaves gathered from this fall over top. What was I doing? Making weed suppressant and mulch that will break down over the remainder of the winter, enrich the soil, and coax my peonies to bloom with gusto! Or it looks like saving kitchen scraps a

It’s a clear COLD Michigan December day. Last night's temps dipped below zero and the trees were bedecked with ice crystals. Beautiful really. And the sound of snow under my boots squeaked with joy when I went out to feed the chickens. I’m a winter girl any day over hot, muggy, sweaty, cranky summer. The sun is shining, the snow reflects its light. As I sit here warm and cozy gazing at this winter wonderland, it seems (for me) that all should be well with the world. But hone