Seeds of Peace

Everyone needs to be able to plant, care for, and harvest vegetables from their own garden.  Whether your neighbors are above, below, and all around you, or a mile down the  road, gardening is transforming.  Imagine. You’re an unpretentious, hard shell and packed inside of you no bigger than a head on needle, is a tiny bit of matter that has the potential to grow into a plant that can help feed a hungry child.  Even after that wonderful task your job is not done yet.  As you, a minuscule seed grows and feeds, you are also preparing your own offspring for the hungry bellies of tomorrow.  Take a squash for example.  Cut open a butternut and what bears testimony to life?   Seeds.  Lots of big, beautiful seeds.  One squash can bear 25 to 100 seeds! That’s a lot of plants, and a great hope for the future. Last but not least, you, as a fully mature plant are about to give one more thing.  You.  Back into the soil to nourish those that  follow tomorrow.

To be able to place one’s hands deep into life-giving soil, to tend the seeds, to water and protect, and partake and share, is a great and wonderful privilege.

I believe that we would all be a happier, healthier people if we came together in our communities, wherever they may be, and grew food to eat and food to give away.  If we shared the earth, seeds, and time we would realize we are much more alike than different.  And maybe. . .just maybe. . . our harvest would be ever so much more.  Peace.


Am I a writer?  A farmer?  A homesteader?  What about a mom, a wife, a home school teacher?  I could go on but it might get boring.  I would rather my first entrance into the writers world not bore you.  I am all of those and more.

This is not my first blog post. In the past, I have started a few websites and a few blogs, and have not been able to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together very well, the thoughts I want to express. Am I a round peg trying to fit in a square hole?  I don’t think so.  If I put the lens of my life up to my eye and peer into the magic of being alive, I see a kaleidoscope of  color, music, textures, and shapes.

Hence, my new blog.  A little bit of everything.  My life on our small five-acre homestead, basking in the New England summer heat, surrounded by fields, trees, gardens, goats, and lots of dreams.  Today, I weave a new thread into the tapestry of life on our farm.  Once I used to dream of when I was younger, much younger.  Today, I wash off the dirt from the garden, leave the milk in the fridge that needs to be turned into cheese, and ignore the dog hair piling up on the floor.

Today, I write.