This is my French friend Robert. Doesn't he look like Ernest Hemingway? For many weeks we spent Saturdays together at the french farmers market where he tended to his pot of rice. The rice was his priority, second only to the box of wine he carefully unloaded from the truck along with a portable refrigerator…
Just finished the summer honey harvest at Tulipwood! I'd like your list of things that are better that a piece of raw honeycomb. Especially when paired with a cheese plate. The honey is making its way from a big metal vat that uses centrifugal force to extract honey, into charming little hexagonal jars.
At Tulipwood, everyone since my great-grandfather has left their mark. This is the summer of birds -- wild Guinea hens with their keets, domesticated keets a day old that we picked up from a lady in Pennsylvania, so small and fuzzy, they fit into the palm of your hand... rapidly growing chicks, turkeys that loiter…
The post office was highly amused.
There is nothing like a box of fuzzy chicks to ring in the Spring.
There are a few rare breeds here. We ordered them for our neighbor who wants hens that lay green eggs. Maybe she wants green eggs and ham in the mornings?
I can't blame her.
I would like green eggs…