Wood-fired, wild-yeasted, whole grain
Imagine the promise of having a constant supply of homemade bread practically without lifting a finger! In the late 1990s, mixing and kneading bread dough seemed onerous to the 40-year-old me. Easy-to-make, inexpensive bread was too much to resist! So I bought a bread-making machine.
What could go wrong? Dump a few ingredients into the tub, shut the lid, press a button, and get on with your day.… Continue reading
The Greenangel Woodchoppers delivered a pile of firewood last week. After returning from a long day in Vancouver, Jennifer and I discovered the happy pile of chopped wood tumbled on the grass beside the woodshed. It was a great surprise and a relief.
We’d been running low on firewood.… Continue reading
A gale blew through Boundary Pass on Monday. It was a powerful storm that seemed lightweight initially but eventually packed a mean punch. The power went off around bedtime, branches fell on the roof. We huddled in bed as the storm raged outside, driving swarms of logs, smashing them into the rocks at the base of our cliff.… Continue reading
It’s interesting how a childhood experience can signify something entirely different decades later.
Perhaps your memory of a happy time turns out to be unsettling in later years. Or, as in this case, a frightening afternoon as a child turns out to be something wondrous and formative much later in life.
This happened to me on a snowy winter’s day, a Sunday in 1963, in West Vancouver.… Continue reading
The San Juans are obscured by mist and fog, and there’s a steady drizzle over the prow of the property. The ocean is grey, unsettled, and a cold wind breezes over the rocks at the base of the cliff. Waves lap the stones, too, of the Living Rock Island across the bay. A congregation of sea birds gather on the rock watching for feed out on the water.… Continue reading