And people think I'm extreme

Wanted to let you all know, first of all, that we’re taking next week off to spend a few days at an organic, biodynamic farm, known as Hawthorne Valley, in Ghent, New York. To quote my two-year-old Isabella, we’re going to see “worsies and cockadoodle doos and cows…and lions.”

It’ll be kind of a busman’s holiday because the idea is to learn a little about local farming. It also means I’ll be away from my computer for all of next week, so no new writing. Instead, I’m going to program the blog to serve up a few articles and blog posts written by other people, along with a couple of my own older posts that I particularly liked and feel like rehashing.

As for what I mean by today’s headline, I thought I’d leave you with an article someone sent me about a family who raised a couple of chickens in their Manhattan apartment (that’s their little girl, also called Isabella, in the picture). I think my own Isabella would like it. I wonder what Michelle would say…

PS We woke up this morning to find that Isabella's milk was sour. The pot in the pot isn't working so well. Does anybody have any ideas about keeping our food fresh without an electric fridge?