I'm joining Amanda this week with This Moment. Because oh, my did we have a surprise waiting for us in the barn this morning! (Two actually.)

Feel free to link to your own moment in the comments!

Love,
Rachel

We spent the weekend in Minneapolis peddling soap and meeting a few of you lovely people at No Coast Craft.

Good times were had and we've only just rolled into town to snuggle our pets, unpack our bags, and shovel some snow. (Snow!)

It was cold and snowy in the Cities, too. While in Minneapolis Sage said, "It's feels warm out today. I wonder what the temp is." And it was 6 F. Because 6 F is warm after a day spent around ten-below.

And so, for now, this.

Some goat goodness to get us by, from the day we left.

Because, well, because they're adorable.

That's why.

Oh, sweet goaty girls.

I thought I was a sheep person until we met.

But now I know different.

Now I know that yes, sheep are lovely. (that wool! that fuzzy cuteness on the hillside!)

I don't expect we'll ever question that decision. Sheep! What's not to love?

(Hey – where are you going? Did I startle you? Sheep, come back!)

But goats are something all together different.

Goats are magic.

Like a golden retriever that gives milk.

(That sounds really strange. But I think you get the gist.)

I didn't get the goat magic until we met them.

But they are something special.

Goats are loving and sweet and sort of needy.

They are snuggly and bossy and hilarious.

Goats. Are. Fabulous.

And these two?

Well, they've simply stolen our hearts.

With each season come new rhythms.

New tasks, new projects, new goals, new needs.

This autumn has had more of each than I ever expected.

From butchering our own chickens to our first clumsy efforts at milking a goat.

From planting ten pounds of garlic to filling our freezer and cellar with more food than we've ever even thought of putting by.

And at the same time stepping up to bat on some big and beautiful projects at LüSa Organics all while finding our homeschooling and family groove.

And then last week some friends offered us their entire flock of sheep.

Their life has changed and after a decade shepherding this flock they are ready for the next chapter.

They offered us six (pregnant) ewes and a ram.

And we said yes.

So a new seasons of learning begins.

Like lambing. In the snow. Like combining two flocks and preparing them for winter.

This weekend, though, is Lupine's birthday.

She'll be seven. Seven!

And so our singular focus will be celebrating this magical girl that sprinkles fairy dust on our lives each and every day.

Blessings to you all this weekend.

Be present.

Even when it's tempting to slip away.

Be you.

Even when you feel alone.

Be real.

Even when you're not sure what that means.

Drink deep of all that you have.

Because it's more than you might imagine, if you can just take a moment to look.

Love,
Rachel

Joining Amanda today with {this moment}.

Feel free to link to your own "moment" in the comments.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends.

Love,

Rachel

Saturday chores out in the cold, crisp, September air.

Happy weekending, everyone!

Love,
Rachel

I'm joining Amanda again this week with This Moment.

Feel free to link to your own in the comments.

Wishing you a sweet and magical weekend!

Love,
Rachel

Oh, sweet and overwhelming September.

You my dear are the month of "more".

More of everything.

More messes more projects more planning more doing.

More moving more working more dreaming more running.

September.

Bringing more tomatoes than we dreamed of when we planted those 24 heirlooms, cherries, and pastes in the spring.

More tomatoes than a few of our homemade cages can hold. (Two of them were laying on the ground this morning, exhausted and overwhelmed by the poundage of tomatoes hanging from the vines.)

More peppers than we can roast and freeze or can or turn into homemade sriracha before the sun dips behind the hills tonight.

More full beautiful jars in the basement than we have shelves for – slowly filling the root cellar from floor to ceiling. Our winter food. Or a bit of it anyway.

More zucchini than we could ever eat, so we fill the freezer, one bag at a time. For ratatouille. Soups. Stews. Sautes. For saving just a bit of summer into the deep cold winter.

More potatoes than we thought our overgrown and weedy patch would ever provide. Enough to be a winter treat if we dig them and tuck them away now, in September.

And there are more eggs in the hen house than we know what to do with. Eggs to give away and eat at every meal. Eggs, eggs, everywhere.

Even some beneath a broody little hen.

And yes, more chickens than we ever intended. Because that broody little hen, Lupine's favorite (Sweetie Pie), hatched out a clutch of six wee chicks.

And a few more hot summer days, that beg us to drop our harvest baskets and slip down to the creek for one more swim.

And more intention.

Homeschooling. Knitting. Sewing. Foraging. Preserving. Fermenting. Farming. Planting.

With the changing season that September brings, there is more looking ahead. Dreaming. Planning. Sketching. Growing.

Tomorrow our farm will also grow. Yes, more animals! (More on that later in the week.)

But today? Today we'll face the tomatoes. And can what we're able.

Oh, September.

If only you also came with a few more hours in each of your bursting days.

I've wanted to keep bees since I was a child, standing a few feet behind my dad, wearing his beekeeping veil.

 I was around Lupine's age.

In my young mind was the knowledge that someday I would be a beekeeper, too.

I've spent years imagining and romanticizing what it would be like to have my very own bees. On my very own farm.

When I started making body care in my 20's, I even named my company – now LuSa Organics – "Queen Bee's Earthly Delights". In honor of the bees my dad once kept in our backyard, and the bees I hoped someday
to have.

But I never really considered what it would actually be like to keep bees.

The hope that everything goes according to plan. The maternal-like need to protect them from pesticide spray and winter hunger.

If we spoke the same language I would tell the bees this:

You are amazing creatures. You pollinate. You make honey. Goodness, you make your own glue from the sap of the trees that surround our farm.

You creatures are nothing short of amazing.

And, well, I really hope you know what you're doing.

Because we're still pretty green. Completely green. We're learning from books and from some words on the phone or at the coop or through email of more experienced beekeepers.

We're learning as we go by getting in the mix and seeing how things work in your world.

And for now, harvesting your honey for our own use is only a dream.

But it's enough.

Someday. 

In my morning tea. Our weekly ice cream. And special baked goods.

And next summer I will harvest great hand-fulls of lemon balm from the garden and slice up some ginger and stuff it all in a mason jar. I will cover it with your honey and I will delight each time I stir that magic into a cup of tea. 

And then we'll dig elecampane and make cough syrup.

Medicine. Treats. Magic. Nourishment.

But for that to happen, we need you to make it through the winter.

So hang in there, won't you?

We'll feed you some local honey we bought this season in hopes of preparing you for the cold months to come. And next summer I promise you a new, nectar-rich field of flowers, just beyond the garden.

Oh, and bees? Thanks for all you do.

You're awesome.

Because, quite simply, kids don't need toys after all.

 ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

And because it's exceptionally hard for me to not talk more that just that, here are some follow-up thoughts!

1. Purchased toys are overrated.

Yes, we all have them. But no, we don't need any more.

Our kids have all they need right in their own amazing minds, if only we can support them and get out of the way.

2. When Minecraft or movies or games are not an option, magic happens.

Yes, we do screen time. But no, not a lot.

I think that's good for everyone involed.

3. You don't need giant feral zucchini and a spring-fed creek to let such goodness bloom.

Yes, I grew crazy squash. But no, you don't have to.

What do you have? Some mud? A bin of rice and some food coloring? Yarn and twigs? You get the idea. More inspiration in this department here and here.

4. Yes, I let my kids use knives.

Even when they were small.

Wondering why on earth that would be a good idea? I talk about it here.

That is all.

Love,
Rachel