A simpler, more creative life on a tenth of an acre
“It’s like you’ve been magically transported back to 1995.” So my sister says, after my new job at Jenny Jack Farm began back in March. Three days a week, I’m in the field or greenhouse, with intermittent phone coverage and no internet access. And the last thing I want to do in the evening is clear spam out of the inbox, which means I typically log on only two days a week.
I’ve repaired Adirondack chairs that were rotting and turned shipping pallets into adorable porch swings. But for my money (or lack thereof), peapod wine is the ultimate trash-to-treasure. We literally are turning shells that were bound to be thrown in with hog slop into quite drinkable table wine.
It takes a lot to make this grown man cry. When our party of five watched the (Mister) Fred Rogers documentary “Won’t You Be…
Eighty-seven pictures of medallions, set in stone, hammered in metal, or painted in fresco. It didn’t matter if they were on the streets of…
Food can bring us together. This much I know. But in our neighborhood and many others like it, there’s an inexcusable divide that needs…
If the deck at our house were a little taller, we’d be able to see the top of the North Highlands Dam from it,…
Scouring secondhand stores is nothing new for me. One day last week I realized that I was clothed entirely in used gear, excepting my…
A smiling Brad gives the thumbs-up. What could possibly go wrong? It’s just supposed to be a quick trip. Three hours tops. Instead, it…
Opening a can of hearth-be-gone in this room. If there were any questions about my latent adolescence, they’ve been pounded away with the mallet…
It started off so innocently. Which is, I know, what Prince Paris and Helen of Troy thought when they met for some spanakopita, and…
When you buy a bottle of Richland Rum – and you should – there are several things you should know: It was bottled by…
Faithful readers may have noticed there’s been a lot more talk of goodlifery than homesteading lately. There’s a good reason. Two reasons, actually. My…
