Hearth Notes - 3 — Farai Harreld

Summer of 2023 by far has been the oddest summer in my time in America. It’s July, but I just put a beanie and wool vest on my soon to be 1 year old this morning as we play in the garden because there is a blustery wind keeping us company right now. The lettuce, instead of bolting, is thriving. And we will find a way to do the same regardless of the circumstances.

So now I find myself planning trips to the creek and local municipal pool, making popsicles, cutting up watermelon, and dreaming of sweet corn all while simultaneously winter window shopping for clothes for the kids. I reached out to the mama’s in my life with kids a smidgen older than mine seeking cool weather hand me downs and will begin gathering our pile for other kiddos in our lives.

I even stayed up last night studying knitting patterns trying to imagine how they would come together. I really want to get good at knitting, but youtube videos do not do it for me. I need to watch someone do in person so I can ask questions / cuss / squeal in real time. This is an ancestral skill for me and when I was bummed that I feel so intimidated by it, my friend reminded me that knitting was typically a social endeavor where folks gathered together in groups and learned and shared the skill. For now, she is my community. I park myself on her porch swing with tea or a sparkling shrub while our kids play and she answers my questions.

I am getting by however, finally finishing up a sledding scarf project for me. I’ve knit this pattern before for my daughter and will attempt to make several more before heading into dreaded sock / mitten territory. I love crafting, but its even more meaniful to me when I’m using up thrifted and second items vs purchasing new ones. So im on the hunt for worsted yarn yardage for my upcoming projects.

Before we moved our chickens into their enclosed run, they had free range of front and back yard. We have surprise plants popping up all over thanks to their industriousness. The most exiciting one being this porch stoop squash which was probably a gift from the two hens that loved to next right by the front door.

I hope you are sustained wherever you are.

Peace,

Farai