



It was about food, mostly.
Food. Wine. The Earth. Men. Food. Money. Our girls. Motherhood. Love. Food.
We both agreed that we were probably nomads in our past lives. Perhaps sisters of a traveling tribe. Although we live quite different lives from one another now, neither one of us quite fits into the mold of our very sedentary modern world. At least Amy lives in a yurt, a constant reminder of the nomadic existence that feels so true to our blood. Even so, it is a struggle for her to live within
walls day in and day out. The Mongolians at least packed up camp from time to time. As for me, trips like this are exactly what keeps my ancient spirit alive. Without being able to reach out and immerse myself into the fabric of the greater world, I don't know who I would be. Something inside me needs to go out there and connect and feel the thread that runs through each of us. So much mystery, so much beauty. Everywhere.
After loading up with fresh veggies at the Saturday Market in Eugene, we headed home for an onslaught of amazing food experiences. Her garden had produced quite an abundant crop which made it delightful for me to prepare meal after meal of incredible food. I sliced homegrown potatoes, onions, and fresh cauliflower into a cheesy gratin. I cracked fresh eggs from her chickens into a spinach, feta, and olive Greek fritata. There was a fried apple number with apples from my dad's orchard that I carmelized over ice cream. Oh, yes and the unbelievable green salad with the candied walnuts...Let's not forget the buffalo tacos or the chicken, red pepper, & cauliflower curry I whipped up just before leaving. All we did was eat! After we ate, we made a few batches of huckleberry jam and crabapple butter. It was our own celebration of food we had planted together months ago on my last visit. Food Amy had cultivated all summer long. Food grown on my family farm. Tastes that I've tasted each fall of my life. The planting, watering, harvesting, preparing, eating, and preserving of FOOD!