*tap, tap*


Hum, well, there has been radio silence here while much moves through behind the scenes. This has come up before, several times, but I’ve never quite let go. It’s well past time to move on from The Spun Monkey. This home has served me well, but in order to be more true to what is happening in my life on the daily, a new home needed to be found.


I haven’t quite moved in yet, but piece-by-piece, I’m getting there. It already feels like a place I can move about in more freely, and you’ll find more there on the topics of homesteading, honoring the seasons in food and feasting, recipes, tutorials, VT life, and more. Fiber and crafting is still a huge part of my life, but my focus now is on building the Woodland Kitchen and the Lettered Rabbit (more on those projects soon, if you want to follow me over to the new digs).

I appreciate you all so very much, and hope you’ll join me over at Woodland Temple!


And March, it came in…

…with bird song, duck eggs (for the first time in months), and tiny, glittering snowflakes. I didn’t even mind that last bit, because they were backlit by a rising sun.

I’ll be honest; I was starting to feel a bit like this knitting project:


Tired. Broken. And with only the potential to be a warm thing.

It’s still not warm, by any stretch, but there’s something about the way the word March sounds coming out of my mouth, and the way it feels like hope. It stokes an inner fire I thought I’d let go out.


We lost too many of our girls to bitter cold temps this winter, and will be collecting some eggs to hatch. Looking out at this thick blanket of snow, I can hardly imagine duckling feet padding around, but the thought makes me smile. With ducklings will be soil and seeds and digging and barn-raising and all the goodness of warm, bright days ahead. Bring it.

In the meantime, audio books and neon knitting are keeping me sane.


Happy March!

Errata and: How to Put Five Pounds of Vegetables Into a Half Gallon Jar


Well, that was a bit longer of a hiatus than I had planned. I’ll be changing things up a bit here; doing some housekeeping. In the meantime, if you found your way here via the Hibernate workshop with the lovely Heather, I’m afraid I have some errata to report on the Bee Comforted hot water bottle cozy! It’s just one line:


The eyelet round should read:

*k2tog, k1, yo, p1* repeat from * to end of row.

It was there in my notes all along. Sorry if I confuzzled you!


In sweater-land, I just started the fun part on my Enchanted Mesa pullover. I’m using sportweight, which feels like a slog since playing with a bulky project, but it’s interesting enough to keep me going. I’ve lost steam on the body of my fingering weight sweater, so hoping to complete the Mesa as a “break” from that. Knit, knit, knit. For so many more inches. Couldn’t handle the tiny, tiny yarn any longer.


In other news, there are still vegetables at the farmer’s market in January in Vermont. I plan on purchasing cabbage each weekend until there isn’t any, and doing up a batch of new kraut every Sunday. It’s insurance, like successive plantings in the garden. Hopefully, I forget what they all are and have lovely surprises months from now. Because C has been on me to start processing the garlic we harvested back in August (yeah, yeah, let’s talk about this later), Garlic Kraut is what happened last night.

In the half-hour it took to whip this up, the sky went from sparkling, icy afternoon to dim and dusky, so here is the result, complete with dramatic lighting:


In three weeks, I’ll put it in the fridge, and try not to touch it for another couple of months. It will be challenging, but I probably have enough purple kimchi and gingered kohlrabi to see me through. Here’s what I did:

Garlic Kraut

5 heads cabbage, shredded

3 oz. garlic, peeled and crushed with the side of a knife (for me, this was 5 heads)

enough carrots, sliced, to bring the total weight of vegetables, after prep, up to 5 pounds (weighing is important here!)

3 tablespoons Real Salt

Aaaaah, the simplicity is stunning!

Mix thoroughly in a large (very large) bowl or a food-grade bucket, with your hands. Once thoroughly combined, I like to let the mixture sit for about 15 minutes or so before I start to pack it. This time, I didn’t bother pounding it in the bucket, but rather just added small amounts to the jar at a time, and then really packed it in with a wooden pounder after each addition. By the time it was packed to the neck, there was a good inch of brine over the top when pressed. I placed one full cabbage leaf over the mixture and then weighed it down with an itty bitty pyrex bowl (the kind that comes with a set of nesting bowls like this), but you can use any glass weight. Stay away from metal and plastic in your ferments.

This is the magic formula for me: 5 pounds vegetation, 3 tablespoons salt. Works every time and fits perfectly in a half-gallon jar. I should probably do something more scientific, but why mess with it? We had maybe two cups of unsquished mix leftover, so I threw it into the soup that was simmering on the stove, and all was well. The worms in our little worm composter are currently enjoying the cabbage cores and carrot skin. Life is beautiful.

promises, promises (Fermented Cocoa Granola of Awesomeness: a recipe)


Yes, this is the stuff. Several batches were tested and devoured in record time, so I thought it best to trial the cocoa/maple ratio at double volume before presenting the recipe to you. You really do need to go for quantity here, people. Please, just trust me on this point.


I’ve been making riffs on this fantastic recipe for quite some time, and while we love it with all manner of hearts and rainbows, there was just something missing. One day, as we were at the Co-op doing the usual bulk bin rounds, I realized that we, somewhat absently, tend to get a little chocolate granola for the road on a fairly regular basis. It’s locally made, and it’s delicious, but in my opinion, it’s an out-of-hand treat that is far too sweet for the breakfast table. Also, the price of ready made granola, even out of the bulk bin, can be prohibitive from, say, actually buying in bulk.


Okay, so don’t cry when you see the list of ingredients. It’s not cheap to make it this way, either. It is, however, far more bioavailable and nutritionally satisfying, not to mention delicious, and I find those benefits to outweigh the initial investment in quality ingredients (which turn out to cost less per pound of finished product than the unfermented bulk bin version, anyway). You should end up with at least 2 gallons of finished product, which you are likely to consume at a slower rate than it’s non-fermented cousin, as this is dense with healthy fat and sustaining calories.

Things you need:

16 cups rolled oats
1 cup butter (I prefer salted) and 1 cup coconut oil, melted together and cooled slightly
3 cups whole yogurt
4 cups water

Things you need to do:

Mix the oats, butter, coconut oil, yogurt, and water together in a large bowl. Cover with a clean towel or cloth and let sit at room temperature for 24-36 hours.

More things you need:

2 cups maple syrup (or a combination of maple syrup and honey…maple flavor compliments the chocolate more favorably than using all honey)
1 1/2 cups raw cacao powder
3 teaspoons sea salt
2+ (to taste) teaspoons cinnamon

More things to do:

Mix the maple syrup, cacao powder, salt, and cinnamon. You made want to heat the sweetener a bit to thin it out for mixing. It takes some doing with a whisk, but perseverance will get all the cocoa powder incorporated and smooth. Add this to your oats and mix well. I mean really well. This is the hardest part and takes some serious elbow grease. Your soaked oats well be a heavy, glommed up mess. Use a wooded spoon to force the sweetener mixture into the oat mixture. You will exhaust your mixing arm, but remind yourself that it will be worth it.

Spread the mixture evenly onto the trays of a dehydrator (my preferred method), or onto parchment-lined baking sheets. Only do this with an oven if you can set it to a really low temperature and you’re around to keep an eye on it.

In the dehydrator, I give it about 24 hours on 115 degrees. In the oven, you’ll have to monitor closely and timing will vary greatly. Report back, if you will, and I can incorporate that info here. You know it’s done when it’s thoroughly dry and will snap apart.

And lastly (also, optionally):

I don’t find this step to be optional, because I think to play with one’s food is an act of virtue, especially when you’re upping the delight factor in consuming said food. Here is where your personal tastes and artistic flair get in on the action…don’t cage that creative beast! I like to add the following:

2 cups shredded coconut, lightly toasted
3 cups sliced “crispy” almonds
2 cups currants, raisins, or juice-sweetened dried cranberries

Pecans and/or walnuts are a fantastic replacement for/addition to the almonds. Goji berries, dried blueberries or cherries, um…apples? Use what you like!

Other flavor options we’ve tried are adding vanilla and/or almond extract, or chili powder in the sweetening step. Oh, and more cinnamon. One time, I had recently dehydrated mint leaves in the dehydrator and didn’t want to deal with cleaning it thoroughly and ended up with a mint-infused cocoa granola, which was quite delicious. Tell me your favorites!


Beezer likes it, too.

I’m a day late, but can I play in the This Week in My Kitchen blog hop? Why yes, yes I can.


the circle game


It’s been a wild ride into autumn, life in a constant state of flux-y turmoil sprinkled with the odd joyful moment. The photo above illustrates finding one of those odd joyful moments in a sweet golden hour of the last week of summer, reminding ourselves that we live in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

Do you remember the 52 Project? It fell off the face of my blog, but not because I’m a slacker. It’s just that this happened, a while back:


…and The Boy said he didn’t want me to post so many portraits of him in this space anymore.

So, I stopped.

These days, I ask his permission before I publish any posts with his image. He is old enough now to require that consideration and I do my best to respect it. Well, except for right at this moment while he’s in bed, but if he wants me to remove his gleeful splashing face in the morning, I will do so without hesitation. I have a feeling, though, that he’ll really get a kick out of it.

And, remember the One Shot Project? I didn’t discontinue that on account of being a slacker, either. My lens experienced a sudden recovery from its mysterious illness and stopped crapping out after only one shot. Simple as that. I suppose I could have continued with the project, anyway, but it seemed a little…I don’t know…contrived, I guess.

All that said, the only reason I haven’t shared my now-well-tested and ridiculously delicious recipe for fermented cocoa granola is because I’m a slacker. Stay tuned.




Yo. We’re in our final week of Summer on the Luminous Traces Collective, and I find some relief in our theme of Letting Go. Summer and I, we’re okay and all, but Autumn…well, we’re tight. I’m really looking forward to continuing to host this project through my favorite season in New England, and we’ve got a few spots to fill. If you’re interested in sparking your creative work with a weekly prompt, and sharing your images, please be in touch either here or there! There’s also a FB page, of course, with a magical “Message” button. Use it.

cheese by night (or This Week In My Kitchen, minus the hopping)


Thank goodness, we finally have a batch of cheese that is not palloumi (what we call our kinda sorta paneer/halloumi hybrid that keeps happening by accident). It’s just delicious, soft goat cheese. Simple. Not perfect. But hey, pretty darn good, anyway.


It’s the nighttime routine these days: kid goes to bed, we (he) make cheese or some sort of ferment from our CSA pick up. This week, it’s a bread and butter pickle, but I’m trying a new method.


Ferment first, with just salt and pickling spices, and then jar it up, replacing the brine with a 50/50 solution of raw honey and apple cider vinegar. After a week or so in the fridge on a slower ferment, they should be ready to eat. Hopefully, this will result in pickles less cloyingly sweet, with the added bonus of not inhibiting fermentation with the raw honey. Stay tuned…


Aaaaaaaand, I might finally be done with the pesto. Maybe. We lost all of our basil plants, so I’ve had to buy basil from the market. Usually, our crop is ridiculously robust, but the plants all turned brown and crispy before getting productive. This time of year, though, it’s cheap enough at the farmer’s market that I easily filled three ice cube trays with concentrated pesto (I’ll add the parm and more oil when I thaw for use) with a $9 bouquet of six bunches.

Heather’s blog hop isn’t hopping this week, but you know, my kitchen just doesn’t stop.

What’s happening in your kitchen?

late summer


river swim

the coolness of yellow painted lines on coal-hot pavement

a red leaf

maybe two, but we pretend not to see them

not yet

one more late morning with no place to be


and one more afternoon to stop and appreciate the randomness of bales in a field


Pick a Color, Any Color

my post on Luminous Traces Collective this week…


I had something completely different in mind…a hue lively and bright, to help me pretend summer has not yet begun its exit while my tomatoes are still young and green (hint, hint)…but then, this guy paid a visit to my workplace and changed everything.

I spend so many of my waking hours adding color to whiteness, that it only seemed fitting and, perhaps, necessary, to celebrate a blank canvas.

And then we dyed him teal. KIDDING.

Anyway, full set of images here.