Hello my lovely friends!

It has been several years since my last post here, and I am thrilled to be stepping back into the world of sharing again.

I know that many of you subscribed when I was posting primarily homestead and food related content. I thought I would share an update and some of the exciting new things on the horizon.

I am still finding joy with my hands in the soil, growing food alongside my local Plenty Heirloom Farms community, however the last 10 years of my life has also included plenty of transition and change. Our daughters are now 15, 17, 19 and 21, (one - almost two are out of the nest!)

In 2020 I dipped my toes back into sharing about my transformative trip to Italy, which changed me deeply. My Italian heritage continues to enrich my life, and at the start of this year, my brother and I created a Youtube channel sharing our travels and our journey towards gaining Italian Dual Citizenship. It’s been a blast digging into our heritage, traveling together, researching - and I’ve even got my brother studying some Italian with me - go Luke! We would love to have you follow our page - Half Italian, if you’re interested.

With the support and help of a group of board members, we are in the process of turning Plenty Farms into a Non-profit organization, allowing for others to join in and share in the work and the learning. In stepping aside a bit and allowing others to help co-ordinate, lead and organize, I hope to create more space for what is calling to me - my art, writing and sharing. I plan on staying actively involved in our growing project, but will enjoy sharing the weight with others.

I will continue to use Instagram as a platform to share about sustainability, gardening, spirituality, my art, videos, interviews and discussions in the future. If you don’t already follow me there, please do! @livinginplenty I am thrilled to have some amazing thought leaders, inspiring artists and authors to share with you in the upcoming months.

This website will also host my artwork for sale. I have fallen in love with hand-carved block printing, a printmaking method that was once used for textiles in the 1940’s. I love the imperfection and uniqueness of this style of art. It teaches me to let go of perfectionism, to slow down and to trust my intuition. After many hours of love and craftsmanship by my husband, I recently moved all of my creative tools out to a new studio in our backyard. I’m thrilled to have a space for myself, to create, write and I plan on sharing the stories and inspiration behind each piece of art here, and on Instagram. Although the shopping cart is not complete, you can view a sampling of my art at the tab on this site.

A gift for you

As a start to this new season of life for me, and a small mother’s day gift, I’d like to share a free pdf download with you, that features a quote by an author I deeply admire and have followed for years. Beth Berry is an inspiring author, activist and life coach who is passionate about supporting mothers.

5 years ago, deep in my own journey of mothering my four daughters, I came across a post of hers that made me stop in my tracks. In reading her words, I felt so seen in my challenging circumstances, supported and reminded that this mothering journey is far deeper than I could have ever imagined when it began. Her words were just what I needed for the season of life I was in.

With her permission, I’m sharing those beautiful words with you, paired with an image I carved of a Chrysanthemum. A mum for all of the mamas out there.

The file is formatted to be printed on an 11x17 size piece of paper - as a small poster, but it will fit on a standard sheet of paper as well. I hope you enjoy it, and share with any other mothers in your life! Follow this link to get yours.

I am also VERY excited to say that I will be scheduling an Instagram live call with Beth to discuss her wonderful book, Motherwhelmed, at some point in the near future. I was so impacted by her story, and know that you will want to be connected to her work in the world! You can find her online at revolutionfromhome.com

Thank you for taking the time to follow my journey. I look forward to connecting soon!

The end-of-summer-harvest-time is unique.

It's the time of year when all of the previous months have built to their climax.

All of the winter planning and dreaming,

the speaking tenderly to spring seedlings,

the transplanting and summertime tending,

now offers back a shower of colorful, weighty goodness one is never quite prepared for.

This season offers the juiciest flavors, the most eye-popping colors and the inspiration to cook, create and preserve. It is a time that overwhelms the senses.

At the same time - with all this abundance, the garden itself seems to shift and begin to take on a different look. These strong, generous plants are no longer at their peak. As the fruits and vegetables fill up baskets and buckets and fall off the scales, the plants themselves begin to look tired. They are well into their own second half of life. Branches heavy with fruit have been munched by insects, leaves once glossy have been browned and yellowed in places by the sun. Dots of powdery mildew appear as winter squash and melon ripen on the vine. They are at their most productive - yet past being admired for their own beauty.

These plant friends of mine remind me of myself. They have mothered their young to the point of being plucked from their leafy arms in all of their glorious ripeness.

Do these vines feel the pride swelling within them as their offspring head off onto adventures of their own?

Do they feel the catch in their voice - the pain of separation from that which they fed and nourished?

Do they wonder sometimes - late at night, how it can be that their own youth so quickly faded?

As the garden's luminous green shifts into fall's muted tones, my counter tops are aglow with these bright jewels of the season - a rainbow of sustenance waiting to become the most incredible meals we will taste all year.

Their glory is in full display on our platters, garnished with bright green herbs and glistening olive oil. The evidence of their magnificent flavor echoes off the dining room walls as "mmm"s escape lips between bites.

When we circle our table mid-winter as the snow covers the ground, we will think back to these days with longing.

In the springtime, green salads and asparagus will grace our forks, yet we will long for the ripe tomato and the crisp cucumber. Jars of pickles and tomato sauce will hint at summer’s freshness, but they can never deliver exactly what this season does.

The end-of-summer-harvest-time is unique.

Only now can I feel the soft fuzz of a cherry tomato melt on my tongue, the bite releasing that shocking burst of sweetness.

Only now can I bury my face deep into a bouquet of freshly picked basil.

Only now do I sigh, overwhelmed at the mountains of cucumbers I intend to turn into relish and pickles.

This is a fleeting season.

Today I will remind myself how precious it is.

I will try to sit with the awareness of its lavish gifts.

I will try to temper my exhaustion, my dirt stained fingernails and my itching skin with appropriate awe for this generous, beautiful harvest time.

I'll do my best to honor the offering my garden has given. To bow in wonder and reverence for her dried out leaves, her chewed up stems and her strong, deep roots.

I'll think of what it cost her.

I'll bring my gratitude with me and let it overflow like my harvest basket does, as I walk the paths of my garden.