Busy Hands Homestead

The Northside of Missoula is my neighborhood. My slice of American Pie This is where I have chosen to live with the ones I love. This is where we work, where we recreate, where we dig in the ground to grow gardens, where our children play and where we have found home. Who made the mess? And yes - Huttig Building Products Inc. still exists, and yes - they have money.  What did they leave behind? The current Montana Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ) proposed "Final" Cleanup Plan defines the boundary of my neighborhood, including 20 undeveloped acres in a prime location, as commericial/light industrial. As a result Our neighborhood is NOT satisfied with this clean up plan.   There is no reason - no technical, no logistical, no financial - no reason that a residential clean up can not be attained.  There are 10 days left in the public comment period.   I vacillate between a sure feeling that the bureaucrats in Helena have ...

I have been wanting to make homemade pop-tarts for what seems like an eternity. There is nothing like being confined by freezing wind and driving snow to bring out the baker in me.  "Lets warm up the kitchen and make pop-tarts." To this Ivory promptly responded: "What are pop-tarts?" To this moment it had never occurred to me that she has not experienced a pop-tart, which means that I have no pressure to meet the expectations set by the pop-tarts sold on grocery store shelves. So we started mixing, rolling and cutting. We spread filling into the center of the hears: strawberry butter I canned last summer, slowly caramelized apples that were a bit mealy for eating out of hand and finally a dark purple plum butter that is a reminder of the last warm sunny days of fall.    While snow piled up outside, we ate warm pop-tarts with a side of scrambled eggs and a good strong cup of coffee for breakfast.  It was delicious. To be honest, I don't ...

The raindrops are hanging from the flower buds on the maple tree. The snow is still collected in patches on the mountains that are disappearing into the clouds. Suddenly the chill of winter is gone and the promise of a new season is everywhere. Remember when our entire world covered in snow? When we spent the after school afternoons sledding? Was it really just last weekend that temperatures dipped low?  That schools shut down and traffic was suspended? That wind made our floors creak and blew snow into the cracks of our home? A winter storm, fierce and quick, that moved mountains, changed lives and made us hold our loved ones just a little tighter.  A feat of weather that magnified fears as well as joys. A winter storm that changed the parameters of our yard into a winter wonderland, leaving in its wake giant drifts needing to be dug, explored and conquered  We dug trails and a snow cave, shaped slides and benche...

I have been trying to spend as much time in the studio as possible.  (Does that explain the lack of blog posts? It should.) I have week or two until Adam is back at work and I no longer have the luxury of spending long day time hours at the studio.  I feel like I am constantly behind.  The list of things I want to make never getting shorter...  but a few nights ago I trudged through the snow carrying a backpack with a tripod and a camera and a giant box of mugs and bowls.  I had attempted to drive down the road to The Clay Studio of Missoula and promptly got stuck.  After a few tried I got unstuck and I parked on a main road that was getting plowed and walked.  My arms ached by the time I got inside. First learning how to use the wonderful camera I borrowed and then moving one piece at a time through three small boxes of new work. I snapped pictures for hours. By the time I was done, there were eight additional powdery inches of snow on the ...

A gift arrived in this giant box....  and the box is just as awesome as the new sleds.  While Adam took the kids on a cold and windy sled ride. I finally finished our present for Sylvan...  and yes, it is late, very late!   Here is his very own fort kit.  At dinner every night Sylvan takes one look at his food and screams: "I don't like that!  I don't like that food!  I don't like that!"  The rest of the family is almost done before he takes his first bite of his pinto bean, onion, spaghetti squash and cheese quesadilla...  and....  a big grin spreads across his face.  He does like the food.  As a reward for trying his first bite Sylvan snapped this picture of his sister.  (She ate all her food, and half of his.)