The amateur potter, and what she keeps.
A column on returning to clay after seventeen years, a kiln in a converted dairy barn, and the surprisingly small number of bowls one actually needs.
In a Montana drainage outside Hamilton, the carpenter Soren Beck has spent fourteen years rebuilding the same 600-square-foot cabin — first by hand, then with help, then alone again. A meditation on the slow work of staying put.
Read the feature, in twelve partsA column on returning to clay after seventeen years, a kiln in a converted dairy barn, and the surprisingly small number of bowls one actually needs.
"Larder" was the room. "Stores" were what you put in it. Notes from the cellar of a 1908 farmhouse, and what a year's pantry can teach you about time.
The author walks State Route 22 from beginning to end across two days in March. A meditation on the difference between scenery and a place.
Slow agriculture, foraging, woodcraft, and the practical knowledge of staying outdoors longer than you'd planned.
Edited by — Marit Jensen · 47 entriesA column on making things by hand — clay, wood, fiber, leather — and the surprisingly old technologies behind contemporary craft.
Edited by — Lars Petersen · 62 entriesRecipes from the seasons, the home as a place to gather, and the rooms that hold a year's worth of weather.
Edited by — Petra Hoyt · 84 entriesEssays on the books we keep close — old field guides, novels of place, almanacs, and the quiet shelves nobody else is curating.
Edited by — Henry Ashford · 38 entriesThe Hamilton, Montana woodworker on the difference between finishing a house and being done with it, working alone for a decade, and what he learned the second time he tore the cabin down.
"You don't finish a place. You become a thing the place can keep."
A field journal of the eight-week thaw, between the last frost and the first leaf, when most of the work is just watching.
An argument for treating the Old Farmer's Almanac as a literary form, not a piece of folk superstition.
A practical column on the seven hand-tools you actually need, and why the rest can sit on the wall and look at you.
A practical no-knead sourdough that fits a working week. Recipe, troubleshooting, and twelve months of reader photos.
A short essay on the strange interior weather of the second week of April, when nothing is yet happening.
An essay on Sibley, Peterson, and the form of the regional field guide — a kind of writing that asks you to look back up.
The Your Business newsletter is a folded eight-page letter, mailed in March, June, September, and December — plus a midsummer recipe broadside and a winter-solstice book list. No drip emails. No tracking pixels. Just paper.