The Living Room Garden

The creamy white that I painted the walls last month created a palette where all of my beautiful colors and plants and things could show even brighter.  Scattered across the wooden floor are dark pink geranium petals, as if we just had a wedding.  They are intoxicatingly romantic. “You have enough plants,” my husband commented. …

Winter Evenings and What Are You Reading?

These cold days are quiet and sweet.  I am trying this year not to immediately begin pining for spring and planting season.  I figured I won’t even look at seed catalogues (oops) or plan out my garden (weeelll…), but I am enjoying the relaxation.  You know, spring and summer is filled with baby animals, and…

Sunday Morning on the Farm

We need to bring in more wood.  I shall find some more kindling.  Empty the ash into the compost.   A wood fire is far more warming than the furnace.  And delightful as well. The grandfather clock chimes and the morning is still.  Blue jays call in the distance.  Steam rises from my coffee cup as…

The Humble Housewife

My mother was a housewife.  It was easier and more affordable for her to stay home with all of us kids.  We started caring for foster babies when I was young so there were no less than five of us at any given time.  The home was her domain and everything was tidy and clean and healthy supper…

Life On An Urban Homestead

The air is cool this morning.  Autumn just whispers.  A  little early, it seems to me.  A lovely few weeks of monsoon broke us out of our months of triple digit drought.  The farms are half fallow for lack of water.  On my little urban farm, the rain has brought forth abundance and we are…

Homestead Revival

  Exciting things are underway. A homestead revival is here to stay. Pumpkin Hollow Farm has an announcement, you know, once the paper is signed, photos I will show. Very big news is coming tomorrow…  

A Simple Life

We were at our favorite Celtic festival this weekend.  For two days we step back in time.  We feel a swell of pride and odd recognition as we hear the familiar bag pipes sound.  Outfits of different eras swish in the morning air through the woods.  We find our clan (Mackay) and bid everyone well. …

The Evolution of a Homestead and the Original Carryall

Five and a half years of writing about farming and homesteading.  Almost a thousand readers.  Full circle.  I am peaceful as I write this.  The sun is behind the large walnut tree, filtering its light through the dense branches highlighting the herbs and flowers on the medicine gardens.  My front porch rocker is comfortable and…

Footprints ‘Cross the Floor (the fallacy of the clean farmhouse)

Now I said it with my mom voice.  You know the mom voice?  Even if the kids grow up and move out the voice still finds its way around. “No shoes in the house!” I says.  Best mom voice. No…(pause)…shoes in the…(pause)…house pleease! Now I am married to an independent man but one that likes…

Beautiful Pueblo

Our city has a bad reputation.  It has for as long as I remember growing up in Denver.  It was ranked one of the most dangerous cities to live in.  Some of the locals scratch their heads and wonder where they get their numbers from.  Some want to move to greener pastures…like California.  Because of…