There is something about the first Fall festival of the season that makes Fall feel official.

This weekend, we made our way to the Prairie Peddler Festival, an annual event tucked away in the woods with more than 200 vendors. Even the drive there feels like part of the experience. It’s about an hour down country roads, with beautiful views along the way, and this weekend, the scenery was beginning to show those first hints of Fall color.

The weather couldn’t have been better.

It was cool enough that a sweatshirt felt good in the shade, but warm enough for short sleeves when we stepped back into the sunshine. Exactly the kind of Fall day I love.

We spent the day walking through the woods, browsing vendor booths, enjoying some good food and spending time with friends and some of our kids.

And, of course, we ate.

There was sausage and gravy, French fries, potato chips, apple dumplings and ice cream. Some of us enjoyed fresh lemonade, while I chose a warm spiced cider because, well… it’s Fall.

And it was delicious.

But as much as I enjoyed the food, it was the handmade things that really caught my attention.

There was such a great mix of vendors. Wooden items. Metalwork. Clothing. Blankets. Candles. Food. So many things made by someone’s hands rather than mass-produced and shipped from who-knows-where.

We even brought a little piece of the festival home with us—a wooden Ohio State Buckeyes “O” that we’re going to use for a project in the man cave.

And then there was the fudge.

Pumpkin cheesecake, chocolate cheesecake, turtle and Payday.

Let’s just say the fudge did not disappoint.

But somewhere between the handmade crafts, the food and all the people wandering through the woods, I found myself thinking about something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

We’re starting to go back,Not backward.

Back to some of the things that feel simpler.

I’ve been noticing how many people are drawn to handmade and homemade things. And it’s not just the people making them. People are buying them. They’re looking for them. They’re choosing them.

And I think there’s something really special about that.

When you buy something handmade, you can often see the person behind it. You can talk to the person who made it. You can ask questions. You know that someone put time and thought into creating it.

There’s a connection there that can be missing when everything we need can be ordered with the click of a button.

Maybe that’s part of why these festivals feel so good to me.

They remind me of a simpler time.

When I was growing up, we didn’t think nearly as much about what was in the things we ate or used every day.

We ran outside all day.

We ate fruit right off the tree.

We drank from the garden hose.

We played until someone called us home.

We didn’t stand in the grocery store reading ingredient labels or wonder what was in the soap we washed our hands with.

We just lived.

Of course, we know more now.

And sometimes I’m not sure whether that’s a blessing or a curse.

Because once you start learning about what’s in our food, our water, our household products and the things we use every day, it’s hard not to start looking at things differently.

I’ve been doing more of that lately.

I’m trying to be more intentional about what we bring into our home. What we eat. What we cook with. What we clean with. What we use on our bodies.

And ultimately, I think the reason behind all of it is pretty simple: we want to be here for a long time.

We want more years.

More ordinary days and special occasions.

More dinners around the table.

More afternoons spent with friends.

More time watching our children grow into the people they’re becoming.

And, if we’re lucky, someday we’ll have grandchildren running around and making memories with us, too.

I want to be around for those chapters.

I want more time to make memories with the people I love.

So, for me, these healthier changes aren’t about trying to create a perfect life or becoming afraid of everything around us. They’re about doing what we can, where we can, to take better care of the life we’ve been given.

I’m not trying to change everything overnight. I’m not throwing away everything I own and starting over.

I’m learning.

And sometimes the changes come from the most unexpected places.

While walking through the festival, I remembered seeing posts about handmade dish soap that comes in a bar with a little brush for washing your dishes. It caught my attention because finding less complicated, more intentional products is exactly what I’ve been looking for lately.

And there it was.

A vendor selling exactly what I’d been seeing online.

So, of course, I bought some.

I have no idea yet if I’m going to love it or wonder what I was thinking. That’s part of the fun of trying new things.

I’ll give it a try and see what I think.

And maybe that’s what this chapter of life is about for me.

Trying.

Learning.

Paying attention.

Making small changes when something feels right.

I don’t think we need to go completely back to the way things were when we were kids. And honestly, I’m not sure we could even if we wanted to.

But I do think there are pieces of that simpler life worth bringing with us.

Growing something in the garden.

Making something from scratch.

Buying from someone who made it themselves.

Paying attention to what’s in the food we eat.

Choosing more intentionally what we bring into our homes.

Maybe going back doesn’t always mean going backward.

Sometimes it means remembering what was good about where we came from—and carrying a little of it forward with us.

Our first Fall festival of the season was a pretty perfect way to start.

Good weather. Beautiful scenery. Handmade things. Way too much fudge. Warm cider. Good food.

And, most importantly, time spent together.

I’ll take that kind of Fall day any time.

And I’m already looking forward to the next festival.

Until next Sunday,

Kristen

Rooted in This Chapter