I dug in the dirt last Sunday. Bug fell asleep on the way home from our ski trip and I scooped her out of the car, still in her full-body puffball suit, and placed her in her crib, walked around the corner, out the back door and into my garden. I was still in my long underwear, nearly-dreaded hair under a cute hat. I didn’t want to waste a minute. It was warm on our backcountry trip, but clearly warmer … Continue reading seeds and snow and such →
Well, look what I woke to this morning. Sweet little nugget of bliss. The air smells of sage and then hens are each laying one perfect egg a day. Bulbs and tubers are yawning up through the blanket of pine cones and leaves. Flip flops? Won’t be long. happy equinox. ps Don’t forget to register for the giveaway; winner announced on Monday.
Two years documenting thoughts with words and photos at dig this chick. This medium just keeps revealing more opportunity and, well, has become so so important to me. Things grow and evolve with purpose when I pay attention. And I find myself two years after my first, shy post about starting a running and gardening journal. Initially, I was wading cautiously into the blog river as if it was the first dip of the summer–on my tip toes, holding belly … Continue reading two :: synergy →
I am all about the *belt-tightening* phenom on our little homestead. Whether using left-over rice and sausage and some canned beans to make epic soup or cutting up ill-fitting knit shirts to make my kid’s wardrobe. Heyo, I dig it. First, the soup. Super easy and super tasty. Black Bean Soup :: serves six olive oilone onionfour cans black beansone can diced tomatoes1 lb pork sausagetwo cups of cooked ricecumincorianderdried mustardbasilthymesaltavocadowhole milk plain yogurt Heat the oil over high, add … Continue reading more stuff made from stuff →
In between high heels and lipstick, I have always held a whole lot of hippie close to my heart. I tried to carry full-on hippie style in high school but it just didn’t pan out for me. I sewed funky patchwork clothes, saw the Grateful Dead and wore weird combinations of homespun necklaces. I donned birkenstocks at the bottom of unshaved legs. And then, at the mature age of 16, I realized that I could bear-hug my tree-hugging instincts and … Continue reading embracing hippie →