Blog Rss

A Fresh Start with the Turning of the Year

Tue, 23 Sep 2025 18:02:51 -0400

Dear Friends,

This year has been one of many changes. After many years of struggling to recover from the damage the Pandemic did to the farm business, I decided that it was time to more fully embrace my herbal practice and grow my own medicines here on the farm. Sometimes the obvious eludes me until I get a good spiritual knock over the head. I got one of those Mother's Day 2024. I took about 9 months to recover from that shock and then got real clear about my path ahead.

Several years ago, after a different traumatic event, I reconnected with spiritual practices that were life-giving to me as a child. Those practices weren't socially acceptable among my peers and so in order to fit in, I took up a different path. That path served me for a time, and I honour that. But it was no longer supporting me, and I needed it to support and nourish me. I felt it was actively harming me. So I let that go and turned to something more ancient and natural. And doors opened for me to go more deeply into folk practices of my ancestors, which has brought me around to a more syncretic practice.

As I’ve walked this new path, it’s only natural that the farm and the shop have grown and changed alongside me. I’ve been working behind the scenes this year to make this online space feel more inviting, easier to browse, and more reflective of where I am with life, farming, and practice.

Throughout the next year, I will be regularly introducing new products - and even whole new collections. All will be rooted in the values of preservation, regeneration, and education in all things medicinal, magical, and mundane.

✨ Here’s how YOU can be part of it:

Subscribe to the newsletter — it’s the best way to know what’s new, what’s coming, and what’s stirring under the surface.
Share with a friend — word of mouth is the heartbeat of this community. If you enjoy the shop or the blog, please pass it along to someone who might love it too.
Join the conversation — your ideas, wishes, and feedback help guide what I create next.

This is more than a shop; it’s a reflection of a life in progress — a growing commonplace book of stories, skills, and soulful living. I’m so grateful you’re here, walking it with me.

With love and gratitude,

Nissa/Nyx

(Some of you know me by my given name, others by my practice name. Both are true, both are me — and I’m grateful you’re walking with me as I grow into this wholeness.)

A Quiet Life | Girls' Day In

Wed, 24 Sep 2025 15:59:47 -0400

This past Sunday, three of my five girlies were home, and we finally dove into a project we’ve been dreaming about for ages. Out came the box of dyestuffs, and together we hand-dyed yarns. There was winding (and rewinding) of mini hanks, soaking and mordanting, heating and dyeing—all accompanied by chatter, laughter, and side-by-side needlework. One of the girls even worked on fragrance making, and our noses were happily recruited.

We shared a hearty stew with bread and butter, talked books (we’re BIG readers here), savored locally made apple dumplings, and tended the dye pots by the fire pit until the sun slipped behind the horizon.

Behold, the fruits of our labours:

These little experiments are just the beginning. Keep an eye on the shop in the weeks ahead… dyestuffs are on their way, and perhaps even some tiny skeins—perfect for making something special as we enter the dark half of the year.

Be sure to join our newsletter below so you don't miss the updates!

Harvesting Sweet Fern (Comptonia peregrina): A Native Healer of Soil and Spirit

Sat, 18 Oct 2025 14:25:20 -0400

This morning, I grabbed a pair of garden scissors and a basket, and stepped out of the back door to harvest sweet fern. There isn't as much of it this year as in years past. That's actually a good thing. It means that it's doing its job of restoring nitrogen to the soil.

It's a treat to be in a patch of these when the sun warms the oils in the leaves. Gorgeous, resinous aroma envelopes you. It's a scent that I find both calms and lifts the mood. Contentment. That's what it is.

Sweet Fern, Comptonia peregrina is native to our area. It shows up in places where the soil is bereft of nutrients. We often find it wherever there are also autumn olive (Elaeagnus umbellata) shrubs (non native). They're both trying to restore soil. When the job is done, they die off and other things can begin to grow.

In the autumn, we can go and harvest some of the leaves. These can be used to make incense and saining sticks to purify the air. In folk practice, they are believed to bring us into greater communion with the natural world. Who couldn't use more of that?

Tea made from the leaves can be used to support recovery from too-high fever as well as stomach upset. As an external wash, it is used to quell itchiness in the skin (not for mucus membranes, though, friends).

Watch the shop in the coming weeks for what we make from it! In the meantime, be well!

Not the News I Was Expecting to Share

Fri, 24 Oct 2025 16:16:19 -0400

This spring, after a challenging attempt to revive my farm operation — complete with a few hard lessons and a big crop loss — I decided it was time to pivot and open an apothecary shop here in town.

I looked at a couple of possible locations, but options are limited in our little community. Then I found one that felt absolutely right — perfect location, just the right size, affordable rent, and a landlord willing to roll the renovation costs into the lease. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

Then… delays. Weeks stretched into months, with small updates but no real progress. My Mabon opening date slipped by, and then my new goal of Samhain. Still, I stayed hopeful — and even after a meeting that ended with, “I’m excited to work with you,” I believed we were on track.

But when new management came on board in October, things changed. After reviewing my plans, they told me that the landlord had decided to convert the space into a residential unit instead.

It took a few days for that to sink in. I had already started sourcing inventory, fixtures, and event plans. I had lighting picked out, paint colors chosen — even the scent I wanted people to experience when they walked in the door.

Once I caught my breath, I sat down with myself and asked the hard question: what now? Do I try for the other available property in town (which feels far less suited), or do I create something right here on the farm?

In the end, I chose to move forward with what’s in front of me. The old carriage house and attached barn have been waiting for new life — and while it’s not perfect, it’s ours. We’d already started work there over a year ago, so it makes sense to keep going and finish it out as a proper shop, at least for now.

So yes — I’m opening a bricks-and-mortar apothecary, right here at home. It won’t have the foot traffic or polish of the downtown space, but it will have heart. And I’ve seen people create beautiful things with far less.

Thank you for all your kind words and encouragement through this whole journey. Here’s to making something magical right where we stand. Let’s see what we can build together.

Featured Photo: Milkweed wishes — reminders that what drifts away may still seed new beginnings. Sometimes dreams take root in unexpected soil.

To Everything There Is a Season

Tue, 21 Apr 2026 07:55:36 -0400

There are seasons on the farm where everything feels like it’s quietly building—and then there are seasons where things start to take shape in a way you can actually see.

This is one of those seasons.

Over the past 15 years, my family and I have been working toward something that isn’t always easy to explain in a single sentence. It’s not just a farm. It’s not just a business. It’s a way of living that we’ve been slowly, stubbornly building—piece by piece, completely behind the scenes.

And right now, a few of those pieces are finally coming together.

The kitchen has arrived—what we’re calling The Bowery Kitchen—and with it, the ability to expand what we make and how we share it. The Bowery Row Market is taking shape as a place to gather other makers and merchants for a delightful European-style market day every Saturday. The Mercantile is a way to make local food and more easily accessible for both the community and fellow farmers.

And? I'm offering farm shares again—starting with salad greens, bakery, and a Mercantile membership for local community members. There will also be new subscription options for those of you who aren’t nearby.

On the surface, it might look like I'm just adding new offerings.

But it’s something much bigger than that.

For a long time, we’ve poured everything into building this farm—often putting our own home and basic needs last. We started renovating the house 15 years ago, and like so many things, it never got finished.

There are still parts of it that are in dire need of repair. And in all that time—we’ve never had a shower here. Just one tub, shared by a family of 12 at our fullest. We made it work. That's the truth of what it has taken to keep this going.

So when I talk about this next season—about the kitchen, the market, the shares, the subscriptions—it isn’t just about growth for the sake of growth.

It’s about building something that is finally sustainable.

It’s about creating a life where the farm can support not just itself, but the people behind it. It’s about restoring what’s been worn down—both the land and the buildings, and honestly, parts of our own lives too. And it’s about building a real sense of community around all of it.

That’s where you come in.

Whether you’re local and joining a farm share, picking up bakery each week, or becoming part of the Mercantile—or you’re farther away and signing up for a subscription box—you’re not just making a purchase.

You’re helping make this way of life possible.

You’re helping us move toward a kind of independence that’s been a long time coming. You’re helping us restore a place that still has so much life left in it.
And you’re becoming part of something that that I hope feels meaningful on your end too.

This season, more than anything, feels like a turning point.

And I’m really glad you’re here for it.