It’s been awhile since I’ve found you and dragged you around out farm, pointing out this and that, chittering and chattering about all the things that have happened over the last few months. I’d like to hear what you have to say, too. Maybe even get a tour of your farm or your home and hear what’s exciting you and driving you on this day. Writing can be a lonely endeavour at times - a one way line of communication. That’s why it’s always so nice to read your comments and to pop into the chat where some of you share the creations from your kitchen or a new thrifted find or maybe the joyous news of a pregnancy or a good hunt. Other than that, I fill things in with my wild imagination and my excitement that soon enough I will be meeting some of you as I travel about on a book tour!!
Yes, there it is. I’ve been offered a book contract with the publisher I was hoping for. How long has this been dreamed of? I don’t even know anymore. All I know is that every morning when I woke up at 3:00 to write, I lit a candle, said a prayer for guidance and then held in my heart and mind the image of me opening a package that held my real, tangible, book. I could see it and feel it and there on the cover was my name. And soon, what I already knew to be true will be placed in my hands. It’s hard to find the words for how that feels so I’ll just leave them simmering for now. When I have that physical book in my hands I hope it comes with the words I need to explain it.
Oh, and how lovely it would be to meet some of you and give hugs and get hugs and put energy and voices to the wonderful things you share with me here. I am so looking forward to that part of it. I hope some of you will find your way to me if I’m in your neck of the woods. How wonderful that will be!

In the meantime, I am here in the dark of an early morning listening to my wind chimes outside. I have turned the oven back on for the sixth hour of my granola dehydrating. After a couple of decades of not eating grains, it still seems quite novel to be getting into the kitchen and making these foods that I had abandoned back when my children were still small. Now, here I am rediscovering them and let me tell you, it’s been so much fun. I’m grateful for the experience and knowledge that helped me navigate my prolonged illness with Lyme. Diet was a major part of that, but I’m in a different place now and it’s a good place. My health continues to improve in ways I didn’t foresee now that I’ve brought healthy carbohydrates like fruit and honey and root veggies, and, yes, a little sourdough or properly prepared grains back into my diet and stopped relying on fats for energy. I’m sleeping better. My energy levels are significantly better. I’m enjoying my meals in new ways. I feel steady in mood and lighter in spirit. Best of all, I am able to put on muscle now that carbohydrates are back in my diet - one of the most dangerous things to lose as we age.
A couple of weeks ago, my daughters and I spent a week together at Virginia Beach. We wanted somewhere to hang out together with my granddaughter that wouldn’t necessitate a long flight or drive. Hurricanes ejected us from Florida so Virginia Beach it was. It was a lovely time with just us gals. We got a hotel with a fantastic kitchen and we took turns making beautiful meals for each other. There wasn’t a single meal where I wasn’t grateful for the gift of having grown children that continue to eat how they were raised, and now feed their loves with the same focus on health and true pleasure from wonderful, nourishing food. My older daughter and I did some workouts together while my granddaughter had naps. Our mornings included long walks and swims in the ocean. And then, as it should be, our days were spent playing with a little toddler, who’s deceptively fast on those chunky little limbs. I was at a play structure with her one day and there was another little girl there zooming around. Her grandma was there, too. It was sad to see how frail the woman was, how challenging it was for her to move and do simple things like walk up the stairs. Chasing after my grandchildren, bounding up ladders, swinging from the monkey bars - these are the things that motivate me to continue to evolve and challenge myself.


But I’m on my farm now and I’m supposed to be pulling you along to see what’s going on around here. First stop is the meat rabbit house. Or, as we say, the Shangri-La Rabbitry. We don’t actually say that at all, but they are pretty nice digs for a rabbit. We keep our rabbits in colony style housing, but they have wire walls to divide them up a bit. We keep the bucks away from the does throughout winter. No need for babies then. Winter is mama rabbit’s recuperation time (much to the buck’s chagrin). We’ve now butchered the last of this year’s rabbits. I’ve wrapped them up and made the last of my rabbit pate just yesterday. Rabbit pate is beyond any pate I’ve ever had. I wish they would at least sell it so people that are wary of pate could give it a try. It is completely void of that gritty texture you have to sieve out of chicken liver and it’s sweet and mild. Goose and duck liver is also softer than chicken liver, but rabbit, in my estimation, is supreme. We eat it every single morning on sourdough toast with homemade marmalade. Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it. It’s sublime.

Speaking of sourdough, I’m presently on one of my epic fact finding missions in my research thereof. I was dismayed to order some sourdough cookbooks only to have my older daughter visit and tell me I wouldn’t be happy with them. “Bread flour”, she said and I looked at her blankly. “No,” I told her, “they use heritage grains.” “Right,” said she, “mixed with bread flour.” Ugh. So the rabbit hole goes deeper. I won’t be making