There comes a point in life when you look around and realize that you have entered a chapter you never quite imagined.

For me, this chapter began slowly.

It began back in 2003 when I lost my mom to pancreatic cancer at the age of 54. That loss stayed with me in a way I didn’t fully understand at the time. As I got older and closer to that age myself, it began to shape the way I looked at my own health, my habits, and the choices I was making every day. A lot of my early changes started quietly with ingredients, with food, with small shifts – rooted in a deep fear of dying young myself.

Then came my own health journey and a diagnosis of Hashimoto’s. Suddenly, I found myself paying much closer attention to what I was putting into my body, how I was caring for myself, and the choices I was making every day.

I didn’t change everything overnight.

Honestly, I’m still changing.

I’ve just been taking small steps.

I’ve become interested in growing some of my own food. I’ve learned about preserving food and started freezing vegetables and learning to can. I’ve started making gluten free sourdough bread. I want to start making more from scratch. And then, because apparently, I decided I needed one more thing to learn, I got chickens.

And I absolutely love it.

This year brought another big change with my youngest moving into her own place at college.

There is something strange about reaching a point in life where the house is quieter and the routines you’ve had for so many years begin to change. At first, I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do with all that extra space and time.

So, I decided to fill some of it with things that make me happy.

A garden.

Chickens.

A sourdough starter sitting on my counter.

Vegetables growing in the garden that I can eventually freeze or put into jars.

Recipes made from simple ingredients.

Learning skills that somehow feel both completely new and wonderfully familiar.

And maybe, in a small way, finding my way back to some of the things the generations before me understood so naturally.

I call this journey Rooted in This Chapter because that’s really what I’m trying to do.

I’m trying to become rooted in the life I have right now.

Not the life I had five years ago.

Not the life I thought I would have.

And not some perfectly curated version of life that you see on the internet.

Just this life.

My life.

And here’s the important part: I don’t have this figured out.

Not even close.

I’m going to make mistakes.

I’ve already made plenty.

I’ll probably plant things at the wrong time, kill a plant or two, make something that doesn’t turn out the way I expected, and learn lessons the hard way. My chickens will probably continue teaching me things I never knew I needed to know about chickens.

And that’s okay.

Because I don’t want Rooted in This Chapter to be a place where I pretend to have all the answers.

I want it to be a place where we can learn together.

I’ll share the things I’m trying—gardening, cooking, baking, preserving, making things from scratch, finding healthier ways to live, getting back to simpler things, books I’m reading, podcasts I’m listening to, things I’m learning, and the little discoveries that make everyday life feel meaningful.

Some things will work.

Some things won’t.

I’ll tell you about both.

And I hope you’ll share some of your knowledge with me, too.

Maybe you know the secret to growing the perfect tomatoes.

Maybe your grandmother taught you how to can something I’ve never tried.

Maybe you’ve been making sourdough for years and can save me from whatever mistake I’m currently making.

Maybe you’re starting over in your own way and simply need to know that you’re not the only one.

That’s what I hope this space can become.

A place where we can share what we know, learn from each other, try new things, and grow together.

Because I don’t think growing older means we stop becoming.

I think sometimes it means we finally have the opportunity to become more of who we were meant to be.

So, welcome to Rooted in This Chapter.

I’m glad you’re here.

I’m still figuring it out.

I’m still learning.

I’m still growing.

And I’m inviting you to grow alongside me.

Thanks for being here. I’m really glad you stopped by.