hump day nuggets: bits of the season in photos and words

If you start writing a Hump Day Nuggets on hump day but do not post it then, can it still be called Hump Day Nuggets? Yes.

Not football fourth quarter, the fiscal year. I’d come up with some great sporty metaphors if I knew anything about football. Wait: it was less like a tight end and more like a loose end. Har! I think I’m still a bit wobbly after the Cline / Dig fourth quarter. It absolutely was the fullest, most energized, exhausting, invigorating, stressful three months.

It started with my choice to lean into my business in a big way and outsource my blanket production at the Portland Garment Factory, which seemed like it’d be pretty straightforward (and thrilling, terrifying) hike-to-summit but instead it was more like a 50 false summits before I reached the top and I ran out of food and water. And lost my shoes and forgot a rain jacket. That whole story can be told some time that is much later than now. The guts: we did it! And I learned a ton and even paid my giant bills on time. And now we’re excited to work with PGF on many more things.

The choice to make a big leap with my business, to entrust a factory to make the work I’ve held close to my heart for years, to hire two new employees, to work like a sleepless machine making all the things happen was bigger than blankets.

Last year I said out loud that I wanted my work to place people, the planet and profitability on the same mantle. This was a big mindset shift for me as, for years, I’d valued people and the planet over profitability. In fact, I avoided thinking about or talking about P&L because I was rich in all the ways that mattered and grateful for my creative work with a flexible schedule that allowed me to be with my daughters. And, while all that is absolutely true, it is also true that I needed to shit or get off the pot with my business. It was limping along.

I’m learning: if your business is more profitable, you can support your employees bigger, buoy your family’s expenses braver and give back to people and the planet better. So this leap with the blankets is just the beginning of courageous choices, expansive thinking and stepping into my charge.

Onward.

Nuggets.

:: We had an Incredible and a Raccoon accompany us around the hood on Halloween.

:: My kids were incredibly helpful and understanding of my sudden bananas work schedule. We had many afternoons with them with me in my little studio, working on their projects and helping with packaging and tagging. And, of course, dogs always underfoot and ready for an ear scritch.

:: Ruby turned 10.

:: Margot turned 12.

:: Things Andy has recently acquired from the dump pile on job sites: a new television, a beautiful piece of marble, three rad old outdoor light fixtures and a neon tattoo parlor sign (currently hanging and functional on the side of our home)

:: We spent Thanksgiving at my parents house and I made a pumpkin pie even though I don’t like pumpkin pie.

:: Are you acutely connected with and affected by our changing climate? We sure are. And doing everything we can to try harder. And then to try more than that. As with all big things it can feel like, “what difference can I make?” Here’s the truth there: we own this mess and we must make a difference. No effort is insignificant and we can all do more.

:: One thing we do is to constantly evaluate our way of doing and consuming. And, one way we’ve reduced our waste is by making our own household products (a few recipes here). Everything from bathroom spray to dishwasher detergent. I have shared many recipes here, years ago, but have since improved our formulas and grown our DIY hygiene and cleaning arsenal.

:: My friend Erika (remember Erika?) and I will be did a Facebook live today sharing a few recipes. Here’s a PDF with four healthy, plant-based recipes if you’d like just go for it! Buh bye paper towels and plastic bottles. (And, hey, same shirt twice in one post!)

:: Wilma still likes to roll in all the poop. And we love her in spite of it.

:: We went to the Nutcracker with my parents. I am just so grateful they live here.

There ya have a bit of our last few months. I’d love to share here more this year and I’d love to hear from you! Tell me about your last few months. And, tell me what you’d like to see more of in this space.

with love,
Nici

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July 17, 2019

hump day nuggets: field of dreams

June 5, 2019

nuggets: summer

June 22, 2018

Dear 2020 Garden Nici:

Less kale, chard and parsley. Your onions need more sun. Brassicas love you so much. Don’t grow potatoes (you’ve proven many times that you’re pretty bad at it). It’ll be painful but your soil needs a break from tomatoes. Let’s give the mosaic virus a chance to die a legit death. Make pesto more often. Cut back the rhubarb religiously and get harvests into fall.

Require your daughters be in the garden more often, especially when they don’t wait to. It’s always good for everyone and everyone always agrees on that.

Spray pyrethrins on the brussels sprouts way before little baby aphids even exist. Grow more basil and cucumbers. Plant your cutting flower seeds as soon as you’re able.

Don’t sweat the weeks you neglect all the things — surprise and life getting in the “way” is fun. You love growing food and a celebration of the successes is a better use of your time than a bemoaning of the failures.

In February you’ll struggle to remember sun-warmed skin, non-depressing carrots and dinner plucked from the earth. You should plan a vacation in February. And know an awakened, ready plot awaits your return.

I wrote this a few weeks back, when we hurried to collect all the things, attempting to outwit the bananas early first frost. And that hungry bear that ate ALL my plums. It was September 28.

Today marks one month later:

I still have brussels sprouts and beets to contend with but, otherwise, that’s a wrap. Well, and pears and apples and peaches and garlic. But, it’s a wrap with the active growing and yielding. Now, it’s about harvest, storage and tucking in.

As I made my kids’ lunch this morning, chopping and adding kale as I do every day, to every meal since the Forest of Kale grew into our lives, Ruby announced she “is over kale.” And then Margot backed her up and they formed a unified front against kale until 2020.

Last night I minced the kale so fine it looked like tender parsley. I added it to the rice and lentils, just for Andy and me. One look and my love said, “I feel like this year’s kale is aggressive. How about kale chips for the rest of the harvest?”

I get it. But I will still sneak it into your smoothies and soups, my loves.

Also, hey: I made a little garden tuck-in checklist for you. Click here to download.

We just had our annual camping trip in a valleys few hours east of our home. We go every October with a pile of Andy’s childhood friends and their families. It’s always cold and dirty and the greatest, most heartening display of life when there are no screens and no wifi and just friends who have known you since before you remember.

We are the last tent hold-out. Everyone else has graduated to campers. And when we woke to 27ºF on the first morning I’ll admit I wished for a little elevated house with a heater instead of a frost-crusted tent. But we were warm, wrapped up in our bags and each other. As soon as that sun blazed over the mountains and through every wall of our fabric abode, I felt so grateful.

We drove home and I felt excited for 1) a HOT shower 2) cooking food without a headlamp 3) washing all our summer-funky camp gear 4) my bed

I made soup, natch. It’s that time of year when produce crowds every inch of our kitchen. Margot said of the soup, “Mom can you please make this at least once a week?”

I even remembered to write down what was in it so I get to share with you. Here ya go. Bonus: a great way to use up all that canned applesauce. Want to learn how to can?

I hope you enjoy the heck outta it, buddies.

with love,

Nici

I love these days. The ones where the sun feels a bit lazier than it did for the last few months, all low slung and syrupy, ready for a nap. The kale is taller than my kids and our counters are piled with tomatoes threatening to split from ripeness.

My kids are in 6th and 4th grades. The change we are experiencing as a family unit is dimensional and holistic. Like we’re all hanging onto the end of kite string in a furious and glorious storm with intermittent, affirming breathloss at the sight of rainbows. This phase of growth feels rapid and important, just like the other phases. But more earnest. And taller.

I let the chickens into the garden yesterday and I have to admit I felt a bit of relief when they dug up my pepper plants. As much as I year for the harvest season, I also have a theshold — a point when I’m just ready for a break from the relentless production and management of garden things. I’ll read that sentence in February and gasp incredulously at my September self.

My kids took the dogs for a walk and were a bit tardy getting back home. Ruby said,

Sorry mom, we lost the track of time.

And I find that sentence expansively more relevant than the saying people say.

Yesterday there were three teeth lost in our home. One required a careful twist while watching in the bathroom mirror, one required a fingernail leverage-pluck and the last required mama grabbing and pulling to put us all out of the misery of The Perpetual Dangler.

With fall coming on like a down comforter in a hammock in the branch-dancing sunlight, I’ve been thinking about our family’s favorite ways to honor and celebrate the seasonal transition. Putting the garden to bed, canning all the things like it’s Y2K, listening to Joni Mitchell while scraping dried chicken poop off the living room floor.

I put together a wee collection of my favorite things to share with you in a little buddy called the Fall Fête. Click here to get it right in your inbox. What the heck is it? I created a Fall Favorites PDF (a collection of recipes, rituals and activities — in the garden, at home and in the wild), pulled together my favorite autumn DIG+CO. items (all at 15% off with coupon code) and moved past my podcast fear and recorded one all about canning. You can gain access to all of these things, including the promo code for the sale HERE.

In the Maiden Podcast, I mention a variety of resources, which you can check out below. 

*Listen Here*

podcast: a conversation about canning food

Resources mentioned in the podcast:

• Join the fall fete (includes 15% promo code for DIG+CO. fall favorites items, fall favorites PDF and access to the podcast series) 
• Get my mom’s pickle recipe here 
• Preserved roasted tomato recipe here 
• Farm Girl Susan’s green tomato relish here
• pH chart for fruits and veggies here 

I must admit the podcast wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I thought it’d be. Like so many things in life, you just need to try, to begin, to give it a good ol’ college try. Or, middle school try. Or 41-year-old-mom try.

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July 17, 2019

Spring Break: Utah Desert

April 18, 2017

rock paper scissors shoot!

May 6, 2015

There was a day last March when I couldn’t imagine the snow would ever fully melt. Our home was surrounded by giant drifts that felt like formidable glaciers. But, our fortress of snow did give in to spring’s urging.

I got a good start in my garden this year, which I find makes all the difference when the July heat shows up and brassica greens showboat, the arugula erupts into a floral parade and that lacey weed I’ve never been able to identify tries to strangle the carrots. As much as I don’t love the look of weedmat, it’s become my green thumbed bff, keeping the soil warm, keeping the weeds down and keeping my garden enthusiasm at a clip of enjoyment instead of overwhelm. 

Margot is officially done with elementary school and while sending her to kindergarten felt really hard, this feels way harder. I wish I could redo just a few of our slow morning walks across the creek to our neighborhood school. But that’s not the way it works and I’ll surely savor every step for the next two years when it’s just Ruby and me on that walk. And I’ll enjoy watching my eldest explore a new life outside the one she’s known, the one where she’s been with the same kids in the same hood since before she can remember.

I forgot what year it was this morning. I wrote down 2010 and moved on. A few minutes later I deduced that couldn’t be right because Ruby was born in 2009 and only then did 2019 pop into my head. Later in the day I googled memory loss and, like most things in an interweb search, that was a worrisome and slippery slope. A friend shrugged and said she sometimes gets things scrambled too and I allowed that information to negate anything I read on google. Totally normal 41 year old stuff. Right?

We’ve been camping as much as possible this year, urged on by the looming likelihood of forest fires. The kids are so capable now — building fires, pitching tents, packing all their own stuff. Well, the packing could use a little backup as on our last adventure we were readying for a hike above the snow line when Ruby announced she’d only brought flip flops.

Last month the girls and I flew to Orlando for USA Jump Rope Nationals where Margot was competing. I don’t know the word for how I feel about her hard work and accomplishment but proud feels too small. She exceeded her own hopes and exhibited strength, gratitude, determination and love. Ruby was so excited to go and I was thoughtful about the fact that she might feel outside of the energy around her spotlit sister but homegirl just brings her own light wherever she goes. 

On this trip, I really felt how much I love this stage of mothering. It’s big and important and I’m all in. It’s reciprocal in a new way. We cheer each other on, feel each other’s feelings. We hold hands to cannonball into the pool, we find our way through the Denver airport at 2am after 13 hours of delays and missed connections, we laugh about the sketchy car rental place with the shot out window.

Being their mom is tops.

Our Uber driver in Denver asked my daughters such great questions about their travels and lives. In their conversation, they both confessed total confusion with the airport. They didn’t understand the signs. It felt like a mystery that only a parent could understand and therefore they felt afraid of being lost in airport more than anywhere. It’s a foreign language: terminal, gate, concourse. So much hurrying. And those giant screens with the times and numbers. So Hayelom told them of the time he came to Washington DC from Ethiopia 12 years prior. Alone. Not having ever flown and not speaking English. “And so you know that people are good and you just ask questions. You are both good at asking questions. You rely on others and you get through. And you learn so you know next time. That is your job! The next time you don’t know, you ask questions and you learn. Starting at the airport today.”

And so they did. They decoded our boarding passes and signs and led us to our gate. They asked questions and we found our way.

And I’m thinking Hayelom’s advice is good for a great many things. Like starting middle school. Or like parenting a kid who is starting middle school when you did not thrive in middle school and you don’t want to burden your kid’s experience with your own baggage. Rely on others. Ask questions. Learn. Grow confidence. Find your way.

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January 10, 2020

We lost the track of time.

September 12, 2019

camp

July 9, 2018

nuggets: bits of the season in photos and words

My kids had their last softball game tonight. Well, the last before the championship games. By some miracle, they landed on the same team. So Andy and I have spent many many days sitting on tinny, shiny bleachers rooting earnestly for number 1 and number 6. They like the team dugout cheers, sunflower seeds in the shells and that heart-thumping hope of bat to ball.

The season began with puffy coats, woolen hats and down blankets and recently, suddenly gave into flip flops, bare arms and sunglasses. Summer announced herself about as subtly as my Ruby announces her distaste for olives. But we’re Montanans. We know there are a few sneaky cold snaps coming up. And we know olives are an acquired taste.

nuggets.

:: Someone has to keep a watchful eye on all those pregnant does out there. Willie Bear is happy to take the job.

:: We hiked and searched for morels with no luck. But the lack of luck was not do to a lack of effort.

:: We went to Red Lodge over Memorial Day Weekend. To visit Andy’s mom, to ski with friends. At the last moment the kids and I didn’t grab our gear because it looked like Beartooth Pass wouldn’t open. But then it did. It was a bummer because I really wanted the kids to experience skiing up there but we made the best of it by putzing around in all that snow.

:: I’ll never ever not be gobsmacked by wildflower season in Montana.

:: A little sale in the shop for the dads. Through June 9: Use code PAPA for BOGO 50% off everything in the Father’s Day section. Custom GEO work: order by June 7, everything else order by June 11 for Father’s Day delivery.

:: I peeled off from the family to go for a quick run and Ruby asked to come with me. Four miles later, I concluded she’s the best running partner ever. We stopped for wildflower spottings, to dip our head in the creek, to hold plank for a minute. We chatted about baby elk, 3rd grade tests and thrift store shopping. There are things I miss about having babies and this right now is my next new favorite. My pals, growing up and stretching their legs and hearts.

:: We are getting ready to travel to Orlando for USA Jump Rope Nationals. Margot has worked hard for this for years now as well as worked to earn money to pay for this expensive trip. Goodness Thank you to all of you who purchased her dog toys! She earned enough to pay for her plane ticket. Here’s a peak at her singles routine during Regionals. She was bummed about a few mistakes but it still earned her first and a spot to compete at Nationals.

:: We got four new chicks: Squash, Tina, Mindy and Apricot. Thankfully the puppy has chilled out since this photo was taken.

We’re practicing for summer’s honeyed pace. And it will take some practice as we’ve pushed ourselves to understand our limit this spring. We need more down time than we’ve had, less places to be. It gets harder as the kids get older and have their own things that are, well, their own things. But we all agree that DIY boredom is our favorite way to be together.

Happy Hump Day out there.

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June 22, 2018

nuggets: put together/not put together

May 18, 2017

As I mentioned a few posts back, a few years ago Andy and I decided to prioritize one-on-one, multi-day adventures with our kids and each other. It’s simple in concept but harder than I thought it’d be to execute. It takes planning and intention. It takes recognizing an open window and flying on out even when there’s a million reasons to stay put (psa: there’ll always be a million reasons.)

When I grow up I want to love animals like Jane Goodall, be an author and a part-time photographer.

Getting away (without cell service a major bonus) opens up time to just Be. Together. Talking on the drive, planning the day, problem-solving, sharing the chores. We’ve found taking a full few days with one daughter opens up listening and communicating in a heartlove, foundational way.

Mama, has Margot always been more independent than me? Was she ever nervous to do things without you? I just always want to be with you.

This weekend Andy and Margot adventured in Seattle for a jump rope comp / to see family. Ruby and I went camping. I am pretty good at walking out the door of a messy home in favor of adventuring but I still had to dig deep to make this one happen. A full load of clean dishes in the dishwasher with a full load of dirties on the counter, a garden that needs attention, chicken coop that needs mending, so many half-baked projects languishing and I always have work to do (one of the pitfalls of working from home…it’s always just right there.)

But I know this to be true: getting out into nature with my kids never, ever disappoints. Ever. Always a huge payoff. So when Ruby told me she really wanted to go camping with me (even though it was raining and a predicted low of 36ºF) I looked into those oceanic eyes and said yes before I could even think about why not.

Do you ever think about if you were a fish or a bird or a dog? I feel most like a llama. Or a penguin.

I love camping so much. Tomorrow can I have tea while you do two french braids in my hair?

We did her favorite things: dog cuddling, writing, reading, hammocking, biking, dreaming of what-ifs, popcorn eating, fire building and laying in our sleeping bags as long as we felt like it in the morning. It was tops.

Click to see a few favorite camp tools.

I wrote this paragraph a few weeks ago:

We all have tools in our belt for stress reduction, mental clarity and grounded goodness. We know. It’s in our guts. When our days are full, it’s hard to reach for the belt or remember where the hell it is even located (languishing under the leaves that needed to be raked up last fall? buried in the email inbox? in the false-promise of having energy after the kids are asleep? why does everyone need dinner *every* night?) My two sturdiest tools are Exercise and Gardening. And, after a helluva week where my charge as CEO of Homestead and CEO of Dig this Chick stretched me in exhausting and satisfying ways, I am feeling pretty accomplished at the small, important truths I found moving my body and digging in the dirt today. I even broke my cultivator clean in two while turning earth.

I loved the conversation that ensued. People shared all the places we can leave our Busy behind and fall into the holy rhythm of nurturing ourselves. A theme I noticed is handwork. We all enjoy working with our hands, allowing our breath to break even with our movement. It’s about creating, turning one thing into another thing. Knife to onion, hoe to dirt, hot glue gun to pinecone, pen to paper, flower to vase, brush to canvas. We all have it in us. I better never hear you say you don’t have a creative bone in your body. You were born a Maker.

My interest in gardening began when I was in middle school. My mom let me turn a small piece of lawn into a little vegetable garden and I was mesmerized at the magic of a seed the size of a comma turning into a gorgeous carrot. In college, I crammed vegetables into pots on apartment windowsills and turned tiny yards into jungles of squash and beets.

In 2001 I got a part time job picking tomatoes on a farm. I aspired to be like farmer Connie: to possess a deep intuition in the garden. She just knew things; she knew everything. What the soil needed, how to attract the right bugs, what plants like to be next to each other, when to water, the date of the last and first frosts, how to read the sky’s mood, what was a weed and what wasn’t. I became her eager student asking about everything, absorbing as much as I could.

A few years later I managed the tomatoes. I was in charge of 3000 seeds from sowing to harvest. I took the Master Gardening Class through my county’s extension office. I couldn’t get enough, certain I’d be a farmer. I started my own gardening business and when I couldn’t come up with a name my friend John and I tossed words around, brainstorming. Dirt, Turn, Soil, Grow, Nurture, Harvest, Dig.

How about Dig This Chick? he said. That was it.

I worked in other people’s yards, studying symptoms and using my tools to diagnose pests, malnutrition and disease. I planned and planted and maintained and helped plants grow. I absolutely loved becoming an expert on gardening, in particular food.

I used to write a lot more about my trials and triumphs in the garden. Remember Virgin Harvest? And those digital plot maps I used to make? I recognize an increasing desire to grow food, at least among the people I bump into online. It seems folks want that connection to food. Or maybe just to witness the pure miracle of crawling around on your hands and knees pushing seeds into dirt and feeding your family nutritious food 56 days later. Or maybe the delight of dirty handwork. Or maybe they aspire to be a Garden Intuitive like I did when I met Connie.

Anywhichway, I asked people what they want to know and am super motivated to dedicate my time to interacting with you and answering your questions. At first I was working to organize the questions and answers but eventually realized this would all be better as a conversation. I didn’t know what that would look like (I mean, I’d LOVE to have you all over to my plot for coffee among the radish seedlings…).

Here’s what we came up with! The next best thing. My friend Corinne is helping me to produce a live video workshop! Folks can log in from all over and talk with me in my garden. I’ll instruct, answering your questions along the way. Whether you want to plant a few things in containers or plan to dig up some lawn and go big, I’m here to help. You can send in questions in advance or ask them live. And, if you can’t make it to the live piece, you’ll still get the full video, resource materials and printable PDFs sent right to your inbox.

Some questions I’ll address:

When do I start? How do I start? How much time will it take? What vegetables should I plant? How do I time the planting of all the things? How do I make the most of my space? Do I fertilize or amend the soil? What are the easiest things to grow? What is companion planting? How do I use mulch? How can I keep up with weeds? How much should I water? What about thinning plants? How can I keep plants from bolting? When do I know it’s time to harvest? 

I’ve never done anything like this before and hope you’ll join me as a student in the garden. I promise you’ll leave the few hours we spend together with knowledge, increased understanding, less overwhelm and lots of green thumbed enthusiasm! I do hope you’ll sign up.

with love,

Nici

My mom loves to cook. Or, more so, she loves to feed people. She’s famous for stirring a pot of something and requiring everyone who is within shouting distance to come “have a little bite.”

We often ate some variation of noodles with a meaty red sauce or a casserole. Always with a side salad with homemade ranch. Every meal was square: protein, vegetable and starch. Cloth napkins. Milk.

The kitchen belonged to my mom. She loved to putz in there, humming exactly like my grandma. Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy…she was and still is highly organized and prepared. My brother and I hung around her and helped with things like setting the table, handwashing grandmother’s sterling silver spoon, adding carrots atop the salad, opening the oven door so she could put the turkey in. She was the boss, the Camp Director (that’s how her spice and herb blend got it’s name).

I remember wanting to make cookies all by myself. Not all-by-myself in a sweet 7 year-old way but all-by-myself in a sassy 7th grader way. My mom happily obliged, stepping away from the kitchen. I played music and made a huge mess. I mixed the wet ingredients in one bowl and the dry in another and I was stumped. I held the bag of brown sugar reading the back over and over again, looking for a clue. I wasn’t sure if this brown sugar we had was packed or not.

I really, really didn’t want to ask for help. But I eventually choked down my angsty pride and called for my mom who was pleased to help (and now that I’m a mom to growing girls, I bet she was downplaying how pleased she was that I needed her help).

“Mom, is this the only brown sugar we have? I need packed brown sugar.”

“Here, sweetie. Packed just means you pack it in the cup. Like this.”

I spend a lot of time in the kitchen with my kids. Always have. Our kitchen is out home’s Motherboard. Our days start and end in the kitchen. It takes constant work: resupply, make, clean. Repeat. It requires all our effort and in that effort we talk, connect and grow up. In our home the kitchen is well-used, often messy, a whirl of creative frenzy. All hands on deck. I sometimes wish I had my mom’s organized and prepared gene. But, more so, I appreciate that I inherited her way of expressing love through food and gathering but made it my own.

As my girls grow (and GROW), that’s all I can hope for: that my influence create a foundation of love and attention on which they can build their own home.

Happy Mother’s Day out there. We made a sweet little fill-in-the-blank form for kids to complete for the moms. It’s free and you can get it here.

p.s. we have some pretty great Mother’s Day gifts at DIG + CO. in case you want to give a little handcrafted love. xo

Magpies are cackling over the perfect nest sticks, rivers swell against and spill over against the bank’s confines, the earth is burping up fat and lethargic worms. My daughters and the dandelions are leggier by the day. Our front yard maple tree is always the first to bud out and we wait for the day it is alive with the buzzing of bees. It happened yesterday.

The snow didn’t allow me to get the garden until recently. I am successfully resisting the pull to feel behind in my plot. In my opinion, nothing beats digging in the dirt. Especially when my kids are with me and the dogs are rolling around. I still think I’ll be a farmer one day.

It’s Earth Day today and maybe you’re like me and want to do more than we’re already doing and not feel shamed/paralyzed by what ELSE we should be doing. Or maybe you’re like me and lay in bed sweating about the warming earth and the fact that our children are inheriting a giant problem we don’t seem to do much about. Or maybe you’re like me and ponder the weird reality that environmental stewardship has somehow become elitist, leftist and exclusive. Or maybe you’re like me and have moments of what the heck can I REALLY do for this planet when everything in every aisle everywhere (and at checkout) is plastic.

Hey. Let’s do things! Let’s talk about it. Let’s start in the place that feels good and doable and appreciate the heck out of the reality that our small efforts on the homefront make a difference. Let’s learn. Let’s care a lot.

Starting Monday, April 22 (today!) we’re kicking off HONOR THE MOTHER week at DIG+CO.& dig this chick.

We’ve cooked up daily challenges, giveaways and deals that’ll inspire you and loved ones to nurture the earth and mamas everywhere (it’s nearly Mother’s Day!).

The challenges will include my favorite tips on simple shifts that make a big difference for the planet (and “bring massive joy on a daily basis” — that’s a quote from someone who took the no-bag-ever initiative (see below) I shared on instagram and ran it with it). I’ve made small changes each year and with each one I feel such satisfaction—I want to help anyone out there looking for the same feeling. Everything will be simple, affordable, and manageable!

Giveaways will be hosted daily at my instagram and facebook pages. And the deals will change each day.

All this goodness will revolve around a daily theme, including: Appreciate, Create, Nourish, Tend, Gather, Feed and Nest. Ready? Go.

SATURDAY, APRIL 27 / GATHER.

☆ Document sweet memories with kids & create  a snapshot of this season of life with ‘My Mom: A questionnaire for kids about Mom’. Click here download this charmed PDF keepsake that we designed in-house (Amanda’s genius!)

FRIDAY, APRIL 26 / TEND.

☆ We are excited about the garden journals we are now carrying in the shop! Through the weekend: buy one, get one 50% off. Use code TEND.

☆ Challenge: Lend Pollinators a helping hand by making sure that your garden is free of pesticides that contain neonicotinoids, a bee-killing compound found on plants, seeds and pest killing agents.  Check with your local garden center or hardware store, most of the larger retailers are now phasing out products containing neonicotinoids. Learn more.

THURSDAY, APRIL 25 / FEED.

☆ For a limited time, sign up for our online canning course and get my FREE Four Seasons of Canning recipe book (8 recipes / printable PDF). This offer available until the end of the Honor the Mother week, and then it will be for sale in our shop.

☆Challenge: Cut down on food waste by keeping scrap bags in your freezer.  Veggie scraps and bones make nutritious broths, fruit scraps can be saved for use in smoothies, and coffee grounds and eggshells can go right into your garden soil. Visit the EPA’s website for more information and helpful tips. Scroll down for Amanda’s Use All The Parts Stock Recipe.

☆ Yesterday’s Deal has been extended! 10% off the Nourish section in our shop, DIG+CO with code TREATYOURSELF

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 24 / NOURISH.

☆ Challenge: Turn it off!  Nourish the air, save gas and save money by turning off your car anytime you will be idling more than 10 seconds.  Visit turnitoff.com to learn more about the myths surrounding warming up cars (All you need is one minute. Even in Montana) and startup waste and spread the word on social media with their handy infographics.
☆ Giveaway: You could win a $20 Gift Certificate for our Nourish Section on DIG +CO. To enter, go to @digthischick on Instagram and comment for a chance to win!
☆ Deal: 10% off the Nourish section in our shop, DIG+CO with code TREATYOURSELF

TUESDAY, APRIL 23 / CREATE.

☆ Challenge: make your own all-purpose cleaner
☆ Giveaway: have a chance to win a Nikki McClure print Winners: Facebook: Melody Clark, Insta: @bryfam Yay!
☆ Deal: $4.22 flat rate shipping continues

You’ll need an empty spray bottle (reuse one you’ve got or I buy our amber glass spray bottlesHERE).

And, THESEare our favorite cleaning cloths. They last a long, long time (just throw them in the washing machine!), work so well and don’t get stinky.

MONDAY, APRIL 22 / EARTH DAY. APPRECIATE.

☆ Challenge: no bags ever. Join the bag free revolution! Forget your totes? Just place your groceries or merch in the trunk and unload at home
☆ Giveaway: Win a linen bento bag! Winner is @katiedej! Congrats!
☆ Deal: $4.22 flat rate shipping shop-wide

Want to join in? Here’s how:

1. Check out @digthischick on instagram and/or dig this chick on facebook for the daily giveaway post and throw your hat in the ring for a chance to win something from the shop.
3. Check back here in this post for an update on the daily tips and challenges so that you can deepen or modify your everyday practices at home and out in the world.

*If you participate in this week with us, please share on Instagram and tag us (@digthischick)! We’d love to reshare and celebrate your good work.

We can’t see the earth below but it just feels like we were flying over frigid waters. It is dark outside and we sit wedged into our seats, going on the 7th hour. I keep doing the math. It’s 4am which means it’s 10pm our time. Try as I might, I just can’t sleep. And neither can the Scottish woman I’ve been bumping elbows with. She is traveling from China to Germany for her mother’s birthday. So we order red wine and watch Life of the Party until Iceland.

Our pane lands at 6am and the sun is still several hours away from showing herself. Andy and I hadn’t planned much for our trip except for Iceland. Months back we had made a list of possible vacation rentals and when we checked back in a while later, they were all booked up. I searched and found a little bed and breakfast that we reserved. We also reserved a 4wd car with studded tires. Two things I feel really grateful to not need to figure out right now.

We can’t check into our place until 4pm and decide to push through and stay awake until the evening. I did quite a bit of research on Icelandic hot springs and narrowed it down to a few I hope to check out. Online information for Iceland is scarce and conflicting so we aren’t even sure if the roads we want to drive on will be passable this time of year. Nothing to do but open ourselves to adventure and go for it. We drive into the dark toward the rising sun, watching the surreal landscape light up pink.

I am over the moon for this adventure with my love. It’s been a few years of planning and saving to make this happen and here we are, on a frozen volcanic island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean driving into whatever comes next, together.

There aren’t signs and cell service is spotty but we find what looks like a trailhead. In the parking area is one compact car with five suitcases tossed in the ice next to it and five people sleeping in it. We consider napping as well (again, the math…it’s 8am which means it’s 1am my time…) but it is pretty dang cold out there and we are pretty dang amped up. Instead we eat almonds, strip down and layer up with bathing suits, thermals, down and wind barriers. By now the sun has revealed a cloudless sky and we see plumes of steam pouring from the snowy hills all around.

We begin walking up. We walk fast and steady, completely unsure how long it will take us to get to this mystical river as most online estimations are in the green summer months. The snow is windblown and there is no way we could do this if visibility were compromised. We are so grateful for bluebird skies. The trail is barely perceptible in places, boiling water pushes up through neon green moss. Everything is snowy and the rocks that poke through are ancient black lava.

The sun is up now and the wind is damp and freezing. We are bundled up and ascending toward a promising steamy horizon. We bump into a few groups and most are turning around. It is a pretty easy hike, although quite technical in the winter — definitely a place for some good gear you trust. Our essentials include mittens, sunglasses, warm and windproof layers, sturdy shoes. The steam pouring out of the earth makes contact with the snow creating a gleaming slick of steep ice. Our snow cleats make us confident in our steps up the slippery hillside.

there are wooden structures that help immensely when it’s windy

We come to the river and it flows slow and shallow. All I want is to lay in hot water and I am beginning to think it may not happen. There is no way we are getting into water that isn’t HOT. It is too chilly outside to risk hiking back out while wet and cold. We walk along the river stopping often to check the temperature and finally find the perfect spot. It is brutal undressing but the promise of the hot, healing water? We are giddy and perhaps a bit slaphappy tired.

And here we lay for hours, our bodies supported by a pebbled riverbed and rocks as perfect pillows. A few other groups come and go while we are there. People from all over the world seeking a wild bath in this wild place.

We didn’t bring enough drinking water. The hike out goes fast, sun hugging the earth as it moves across the sky. We drive along the black sand-beached ocean toward Keflavik stopping in Selfoss for a seafood stew I will dream about.

We have one of three sweet and simple rooms at the bnb, operated by Andi and Yuki. We check in and Andi warns us to not give into sleep. Take an hour nap he suggests. He also asks if we want him to let us know if the Northern Lights show up. We say yes, of course and quickly drift off for our one hour nap. Shortly after waking he throws open the common room door and shouts, “Northern Lights!” We leap up, layer up and head out into the ink black, wind gusty night driving away from the little bit of light pollution on the island.

And it is life changing.

I’ve seen green glows in Montana before but this is another universe. It moves slowly and imperceptibly and I can’t tell if it is far away or up close. I feel like I am being lifted off the ground. We listen to Bjork and totally GET her music.

The next morning is my birthday and we have the lovliest spread from Andi and Yuki. Homemade breads, jams and butter. Local fish, cheese and eggs. Fantastic espresso and great conversation. Everyone in Iceland is gentle, sincere, kind and strong. There is a deep appreciation of culture and landscape. The country holds only 300,000 people and the native language is abundant and treasured.

We set out to drive a different part of the Golden Circle than we drove yesterday, this time aiming at another hot spring. One that is on private land with public access. We return to a beach access we saw yesterday and discover an ice-bejewled black sand beach. The ocean is aggressive and the wind whips up a biting spray into the bright sunlight. It truly is like another planet.

This is Iceland. Rugged and gentle. Harsh and lulling. Brutal and tender. Cautioning and inviting. A land of beautiful, artful, harmonious tension. It’s irresistible.

The hot spring is in the middle of nowhere and pure magic. I imagine elfin gatherings and viking festivals. Reindeer and narwhals dancing in the moonlight. The wind is still relentless. It nearly ripped my car door clean off. And, then the sheltered spaces are serenely still.

small changing hut built into the hill

We drive back to our bnb after dark, my bikini drying on the dash. We listen to Sigur Ros and the cadence perfectly matches what we see. Again, the Northern Lights shaking the sky. Our eyes are now trained to notice the subtle beginning. On this night, the night I am 41 years old, the sky throbs with energy. If last night was ballet, tonight is hip hop.

Tomorrow we leave for The Netherlands.

TRIP DETAILS

Read Part 1: Intentional Adventure

Video of our time in Iceland

Bed and Breakfast in Keflavik: Guesthouse 1×6

Day 1 Hot Spring: Reykjadalur

Restaurant in Selfoss: Kaffi Krus

Day 2 Hot Spring: Hrunalaug

Golden Circle Tour