It's been a long, cold spring that has stretched well into summer. But, that favored season is finally here. This fact, coupled with the existence of our beloved greenhouse, combines to bless us with sweet offerings few others on our little rock can claim.
Our pots of basil are brimming, our tomatoes are beginning to get heavy with fruit, and our peppers are developing. Meanwhile, in the open air garden, garlic, onions, and potatoes are literally bursting from the ground. The weeds bring us down, but yanking onions and garlic from the ground each night and rooting around for those stunning creamy fresh potatoes remind us that we haven't totally lost 2010.
But, yesterday was strange. The day dawned shrouded in a strange mist, a mist that stubbornly remained for the bulk of the day, eventually casting a strange glow over the farm even as it disapated. My various family members went off to their own magnets and I was left in the kitchen, prepping dinner and making bread while getting my daily Bourdain fix. I couldn't help but snap about 100 photos of that amazing light. Wow.
I am a 50-year old community engagement manager, wife, mom and sort of farmer with a passion for sharing life and love through vibrant and delicious food. I work to slowly (very slowly) build a place where people come to know their food and take pleasure in its journey. I am fortunate to live in a beautiful island community outside Seattle, surrounded by nature and exceptional people, especially my loving and supportive Aussie husband, our amazing son, and a small band of fiercely dedicated friends. This site is dedicated to sharing what I learn as I stumble through everyday lessons on farming, animals, growing healthy food, parenting, and what the future holds.