Vivid When I think back to my most vivid memories of the homestead — those not triggered by the 2 dimensional aid of a photograph — I can almost feel the goosebumps. There were moments (ok, hours) of intense cold. That second winter when Joel and I crawled around under the log cabin in February…
Continue ReadingWhen I see a Chicken…
I walk to the fridge, pull out a chicken. Do what I’ve at least 47 times since I learned how to roast a chicken. I rinse it (habit), throw out the giblets (gross) and dab it dry with paper towels. Next comes butter, smeared liberally over the breast, and plenty of salt and pepper –…
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