Matt and I had our annual winter getaway in Texas and Louisiana for the past two weeks. It was a great vacation, full of family, old friends, and new perspectives, but I found myself missing the Farmhouse quite a bit. The room we stayed in was nice, but there was no wood stove to curl up next to; the bed had luxurious sheets, but there was no fat cat to warm my feet; the grocery stores were filled with beautiful food, but it didn’t taste as good as our own home-grown goodies; the restaurants were fun and different, but we didn’t know any of the people working or eating there; the landscape was beautiful and green, but there were no omnipresent mountains.
Levi was ecstatic when we arrived home, but the house felt strangely cold and empty. Well, it was cold because we turned the heat down while we were gone, but I mean lifeless, even with Levi and Jack-Jack running around. We set to work breathing life back into it… we turned lights on, started a fire in the wood stove, poured a glass of wine, and put some snacks out. I pulled some red salmon and a package of kale out of the freezer, scrubbed some beets, carrots and potatoes. As the aromas of the cooking food began to fill the house, it finally started to feel like home again. It was the most simple, delicious meal. In every bite I could taste the goodness of the earth and soil from which the food came.
Matt and I looked at each other and said…”It’s good to be home!”