It’s really simple.  We bought a wreck of an 160 year old Victorian farm.

We moved into it, and we’re renovating it while we live in it.  A little over a year into tearing it apart, replacing old knob and tube wiring, running new duct work (the previous owner allowed renters to have cats, who decided the registers were a good place to pee), cutting down trees, tearing out brush, fixing up the barn so the animals had a place to live, and trying to establish my gardens, I’m finally beginning to feel like myself again.

I think I may be ready to attempt some blogging again.  I did write a few articles for an herb magazine in the last year, so I’m going to add those over the next few weeks, and then I’ll try to work on some new material.

This is what the place looked like in 1899.  I wish it still looked like that, but alas, it never will again. With our boys grown and moved away, we needed something to do.  I suspect we’re going to be working on the place till the day we die. We’re taking it one project at a time, saving and paying for each project as we go.  I have been taking pictures since we started working on it, and will eventually get around to sharing.

For now, I just wanted to come out of hiding, offer my excuses, and let you know I’m not gone forever.