Snow Lite

Spent the day brainstorming for the press' 2011 projects, test driving some new typefaces, and failing to patch my new jeans that were ripped on hog wire during a wood's walk.

Snuggling with the cat now and contemplating a midnight screening of The Bridges of Madison County (always a good idea or never a good idea depending on who you talk to).


Photos taken by Alexis Boling, my superhuman brother.

Ginger Kidding Around

Team 1 Submission: A Live-In Volkswagen Bus
Complete with Grateful Dead Bumper Sticker

Team 2 Submission: Edible Replica of the Mule Barn
Complete with Three Cent's Animal Friends

Team 3 Submission: Geometric/ Color Candy Land
aka, Josef Alber's Funhouse.

Any redneck sports cup series worth it's salt needs a good acronym (for example), and what you see before you are the end results of the first annual BFGBR (Boling/ Fowler Gingerbread Battle Royale). The Competition consists of three teams that are presented with the same amount of dough, icing, and toppings. Each team is charged with the task of creating a ginger structure that could be livable for any healthy gingerbread man, woman, or family. Each team gets a planning period and alternates baking rounds in the oven. The main problem we ran up against was impartial judging, so, I open it up to anyone who'd like to place their vote for the winning structure. Nothing wrong with a little healthy competition for the Holidays.

BFGBR doesn't roll off the tongue yet, but it will.

**Also, I can't help but mention, I woke up to a White Christmas. Thanks Santa, you're the best!

Pictures from the "Antique Tractors" 2011 Calendar

Before I moved to the farm I wasn't ignorant in the ways of country living, but I certainly wasn't an expert. I guess you could say the past eight months have been Country Education 101. I'm still learning the various social graces of this part of the world, but I think i'm making steady progress. Exhibit A: In the past week I have been "gifted" three 2011 calendars from two separate businesses, the G&S Gas Company and the Hill Farm Feed Store. I consider these calendars to be badges of my growing ability to navigate and feel comfortable in this part of the world. I think to understand why I'm proud of such an accomplishment you have to understand Hancock County and it's occupants.

The poorest county in Georgia, the population of Sparta and it's surrounding towns have been slowly diminishing over the past few decades. As jobs dried up here, the majority of financial opportunities went with it, and the people that live here seem to be committed to sticking it out because it's home, wish they could go somewhere else and can't, or wish they could go somewhere else and won't. What this means is that there are very few, as in no, girls below the age of twenty-five that show up in feed stores wearing muck boots that clearly "aren't from around here". If the moon pies and pork rinds behind the cash register at Hill Farm Store don't tell you, the picture of a toddler sitting on a dead deer with a caption below it that says, "Santa, if I don't get everything on my Christmas list Prancer and Dancer are next!" will. I believe I am somewhat of an anomaly in this town. To be clear, I don't at all confuse this with superiority, on the contrary, there's a lot I could learn from people around here, but every time I start to patronize a new business here I can almost predict how the initial interaction will go down; confusion, suspicion, reservation, and finally acceptance or ambivalence. I'd probably go through the same mental process if I were in their shoes, and it probably doesn't help that the Prius is the designated car for feed pick-up, but the phrase "Can I help you?" really seems to mean "Please explain" when it's coming in my direction.

In small towns, newcomers are an adjustment for everyone, but in time a newcomer becomes a neighbor. Take that Leave it to Beaver. In the meantime, i'm three calendars richer.

Flying Burrito/ Flying Biscuit

Good light in the pole barn.

A morning full of sausage n' gravy biscuits and the vocal stylings of Gram Parsons. Heading out for a run before a cold day in the studio.... Sadie ate the tongue off of one of my running shoes yesterday so here's to making do with what you've got.

I feel happy as a clam these days.... what's the secret you say? Take a deep breath, listen to the Flying Burrito Brothers cover of "Do Right Woman", eat a handful of salted peanuts, and call me in the morning.

Once is Good. Twice is Better.

Crunchy, nutty, and served with a beverage.... my kind of cookie. I've been wanting to try my hand at making biscotti for a good long while and finally a free moment presented itself for baking. Admittedly the recipe comes from a Martha Stewart Holiday Cookie Special I purchased at Target a few weeks ago in a moment of weakness. In my defense, Martha fills one with the illusion that giving away cookie care packages for the Holidays, each containing over a variety of 20 different beautiful and comfortably exotic cookies, is well within the reach of any lady (or gent) who can dream or bake big enough. And so, with Martha bolstering my confidence, I took my first crack at the world of biscotti (according to Wikipedia this word is derived from the Medieval Latin word biscoctus, meaning twice baked). The recipe's trademark ingredients are orange zest, fennel seed, and almonds.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that biscotti making is relatively forgiving. I'm almost positive I over mixed the dough, as the second car of the day pulled into the driveway to tell me the goats were out just as the final ingredient was being incorporated into the mixture. Because the cookies naturally share some qualities with hard tack and have a coarse crumb, the texture did not appear to be adversely affected by the goats unannounced vacation plans. My baking efforts resulted in a cookie that had a slightly savory edge to it, which I contributed to the fennel, and was delicious with my afternoon cup of tea. See recipe below.

Rolled into logs before going in the oven.

Slicing with our Appalachian Bow Saw before the 2nd bake

Fennel, Orange, and Nut Biscotti

3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons fennel seed
2 tablespoons finely grated orange zest (from 2 large oranges)
3 large whole eggs plus 1 large egg yolk
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup raw almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk to combine flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, fennel seed, and zest in a bowl.
In a separate bowl, whisk eggs and yolk with olive oil. With an electric mixer on low speed, gradually add flour mixture to egg mixture, raise speed to medium, and mix until well combined. Mix in nuts.

2. Transfer dough to a lightly floured surface and divide in half. Using you palms, shape each piece into a log about 10 inches long and 2 inches wide. Arrange logs on a parchment- lined baking sheet, spacing at least 2 inches apart. Flatten logs slightly.

3. Bake. rotating sheet halfway through, until firm to the touch, 30 to 35 minutes. Let cool on sheet on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Reduce oven heat to 325 degrees. Transfer logs to a cutting board. Using a serrated knife, cut into 1/2 inch thick slices on the diagonal.

4. Place slices, cut side down, on the sheet. Bake until firm when pressed in center and golden brown at edges.

Yield: 2 1/2 dozen

Wee Wee Wee, All the Way Home

The Tamworths

Finally, les cochons sont arrives! Brad and I have been gearing up for pigs for months now. We knew we wanted to find a heritage breed from a respectable source, hopefully within an hours distance, and at last all of our ducks are in a row. Our friends at Greendale mentioned a few months ago that they might have some weanlings that they would be willing to sell us, Tamworths. Known as a bacon pig for their leaner, longer bodies, Tamworths were the breed we had our hearts set on raising. They are known for their weather hardiness, their master foraging skills, and their relative friendliness. Who wouldn't want one, right?

So as of Sunday, Three Centuries Farm* is the proud owner of five three-month old Tamworths. These little guys really are cute as a button with their olive-y colored eyes and Irish red hair. I had my first pig adventure this morning while feeding up. One got a little spooked and somehow magically crossed the electric fence while I was looking right at him. I couldn't believe it, I had been assured and reassured that pigs were great respecters of the mystical white electric strings. Of course, on my first morning solo at the farm since getting the pigs one of them manages to do the impossible. But if I've learned anything in my life, it's that food is the great motivator, and with that as my mantra and a little patience I lured him back over to join his buddies. Crises averted.

Every time we add a new animal to the farm, I feel more and more assured that being out here is the right thing to do. It's been extremely cold here as of late and some mornings can be a little trying, but then I hear my mom's voice with her little French accent, "Megan, layers! Je vais donner une fessee!" (a warning that she'll give me a spanking if I don't put on warmer clothes.... I was the kid in elementary school who wore shorts in January) So with that reminder, I put on an extra layer and head out to do morning chores. We're all in it together now, me, Brad, my parents, the mules, the goats, the chickens, the donkeys, the dogs, the cat, and finally, the pigs. This is the good stuff.

The runt, our very own Wilbur. Bottle fed at the beginning, this Tamworth
is the most comfortable with us being around.

Still in the crate, on the truck.

One of pop's finds. This is the American breakdown of different pork cuts.
I also received the English version in my inbox.

I don't know if Brad has earned his fencing badge yet, but he's well on his way.

*After unanimous approval from the powers that be, Three Centuries Farm is the name of our farm.
It's official, we're on the map. Work on the website will begin soon, and we will be at farmer's markets
in Georgia this coming year!

Safety Gourds

Halloween is important to me. It always has been. I think it's because it means that Autumn is here for keeps. In the South, it often stays in the 80's all the way through October, but by the time November begins to open her eyes we're getting the crisp, cool air we're due, for putting up with all that hot, soupy summer air. Because I didn't grow any pumpkins or winter squash earlier this year, I had to purchase my seasonal stoop vegetables. I'm almost positive I bought the best Milledgeville had to offer, and here's why: 1) I got stopped three times before I even got to the checkout line by different people wondering what the hell was in my buggy. 2) They were so heavy they made my safety belt alarm beep continually so I had to strap them in on the drive home. I'm probably a little too proud of my blue gourd, my bumpy gourd, and my not so big pumpkin with the twisty stem.

Also, I know Halloween hasn't happened yet so I shouldn't even be mentioning Thanksgiving, but this year I already know what i'm thankful for: my friend Jess' pumpkin pie. It's definitely the best pie of it's kind, and it has made it's way into my top 20 favorite foods of all time. Speaking of Jess, we went apple picking with our Johnny Appleseeds this past weekend because we got it in our head that an event called the Ellijay Apple Festival would be fun. Apple picking = yes. Apple festival = not so much. Once I get the canner revved up i'll share the in's and out's of making apple sauce and butter from scratch.

Reaching for the stars, always.