Momofuku Muthafuken Ramen

Second week after Christmas break – I need a vacation!  Seriously, the kids are awesome and life is good but I am dog ass tired.  As a mom I’m re-assessing my “work performance”, and really want to make some changes.  As a wife – yeah I could do a better job.  As a boss/business owner – man do I have a lot to do!  Which brings me back to – I’m tired! Continue reading

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Grammie’s Birthday

My mother does so much for me, my kids, my sister, her kids, and my dad – it is the personification of love.  I will never be able to repay her for all she has done or will do for us all.  Often her special days are celebrated with a phone call or quick text, while our children’s days are weekend events. Continue reading

Holiday Hangover

 

All set and ready to go

Another holiday season come and gone.  The tree is down, stockings and a variety of chachkies are safely tucked away to a worn banker box in a  corner of attic storage until next year.  Aaaahh, peace and fucking quiet.  The silence is welcomed.  This year was a bit stressful – more so than years past.   Continue reading

Running Away From Home

The peaceful shores of Maine

The peaceful shores of Maine

Everyone’s had those weeks – the ones where you start out optimistic and positive and end dark and stormy. That’s the week we’ve had. In my 20s I was big on the pity party. You know – grab a bottle, grab a buddy, get shitty and moan about your life. In my 30s I realized acting like a complete hot mess in public wasn’t allowed so I usually hibernated at home with a bottle and a movie or a book. I’m 40ish and have 2 little kids, no time for a pity party. So, rather than be angry mommy I asked my hubby and sister-in-law to head to the ocean with me. A change of scenery always changes your perspective. So let’s run away from home! Continue reading

Spring in Vermont

Syrup grade samples from last year's draw.  Fancy.

Syrup grade samples from last year’s draw. Fancy!

Winter is still nipping at the heels of spring, holding its last bit of ground before releasing us into warmer weather and Vermont’s fifth season – mud season.  April is an odd month in Vermont. It can never seem to make up its mind whether it is winter or spring.  We have had flurries this along with rainy days that leave every inch of ground like a mud bog followed by clear, sunny days.  I, however, love these foggy, rainy spring days.   Continue reading

Big Swing’s Birthday!

This weekend is my husband’s 42nd birthday. It also happens to be Easter, so family meal is jam packed this weekend. About a year ago my sister-in-law’s boyfriend started called my husband “Big Swing” – cause he’s the “boss” or “El Heffe” or “HMFIC” and I’ve decided after 15 years that when you are the “boss” for long enough It’s hard to not be the “boss” 24/7. We like to make fun, it’s kind of our thing, and “Big Swing” is our tongue and cheek way of saying “yeah, you’re the HMFIC and we know it”. It’s not easy being married to Big Swing when he’s in full “boss man” role, but our lives would not be as fulfilling, secure, or exciting without him. He’s our chief executive officer and he makes all this better. I mean, we all do (just don’t tell Big Swing)… Continue reading

#FAMILYMEAL

Upper pasture at one of our farms.

Upper pasture at one of our farms.  What dreams are made of….and we are lucky enough to live here every day.

Family meal evokes a myriad of emotional reactions. It can mean joy. It can mean pain. For me, it evokes a feeling of comfort and safety – so I guess I’m one of those lucky bastards that doesn’t have deep emotional scars running through the middle of my universe. Yeah, I’m not – I have no inner demons. I’m basically an average 40 something married mom of two great kids with a fantastic network of family and friends. So when my husband suggested that we host a family meal once a week for our extended family friends, I thought sure. Then I thought about all the dishes I’d have to contend with – but I decided showing our kids what it means to be part of a larger family/community was worth some dishwater hands. Continue reading