Notes from the Farm
Autumn winds whirl about outside the farmhouse and I’m cooking as usual. The kitchen’s well worn, my apron’s splattered and the temperature begins to rise as the cooking stove, oven and woodstove…simmer, roast and pop respectively. Before long my 4 year old is stripped down to her unders and the windows are too steamed to see out. Night comes quickly and there’s never enough time to cook everything you’d like to on a cooking day.