John and I camped at a music festival in Pinnacle, North Carolina this weekend. Just the two of us. We sat in chairs for whole sets. We saw all the music we wanted to see. We drank cups of coffee to the bottom and held hands. I loved the workshop sets, Del McCourey, Keller Williams, and the Yonder Mountain String Band. I liked Patterson Hood from the Drive By Truckers. Our next and last festival of the season, Shakori Hills, is in two weeks, and we are hoping to sneak in a fall trip to Grayson Highland's State Park for the wild ponies and amazing vistas on the Appalachian trail at it's highest point in Virginia.
Now back at home we've had rain and cooler weather is setting in. I made delicious Concord grape jam a few days ago, and we may never buy jam again. I want to pick raspberries on Sunday, and I have a big bowl of apples ready to make applesauce. Last night I made my first fall inspired pot of soup with potatoes, carrots, porcini mushrooms, and cabbage.
I met the truck from Countryside out by the highway yesterday to pick up a hundred pounds of organic chicken feed. No one in town sells organic feed, but I met a group of people dedicated to feeding their chickens wholesome unprocessed food. It truly is "chicken granola".
I just discovered Whole Larder Love. For the first time in my life I thought I might want to hunt something, chop down some trees, and build a smokehouse. Or maybe go fishing.
Eight years ago we were living in Portland, Oregon and spending much of our meager paychecks at the Portland Farmer's Market. We could see it from our apartment. There we found Ken's Artisan Bakery, and from the farmer's market we followed him up to his bakery/ restaurant in northwest Portland. Last night I went to bed at eight o'clock with the kids, but my mother called to say that she was ordering me a copy of Ken Forkish's new book Flour Water Salt Yeast.