It’s taken a while for me to realize it, but inherently I’m a maker. My whole live I’ve created things with my hands. Woodworking, painting, ceramics, fiber arts, baking, gardening, weaving, etc. I found willow at one of the hardest points in my life. I was unhappily married with three young kids and slowing shrinking inside myself. While touring gardens in the Cotswolds of Great Britain on a much needed getaway with my mom, I had the privilege of learning willow basket weaving with Norah Kennedy, an incredible basketmaker who inspired a new love of the craft and reignited a spark within me.

Once home I tried to get my hands on basketry willow to continue my weaving journey. It turns out, that’s much easier said than done. You can’t just order dried willow on Amazon (I tried). You can’t trust the willow people randomly sell on Etsy (tried that too). You can forage for willow growing naturally, but you don’t know what you’re getting. And even if you’re friendly with other weavers, they typically won’t sell you their stock. There just isn’t enough quality basketry willow to go around. But the amazing thing about the weaving community in the Northwest is that you can get cuttings. You can ask questions. You can take classes, and you can meet some incredible people. So that’s what I did. All while sorting through a divorce and helping three little guys understand big changes in their world. I packed everything up, bought an old cow field property near a truck stop and started the farm. With help from my incredible parents, my three very energetic boys, and our trusty sidekick Maggie (dog) things are growing.  I’m happily moving into the third year on the farm and things are starting to look like we mean business.

It sounds ridiculous to say, but willow weaving pulled me out of a 15 year fog of an unhealthy marriage. It reignited a slowing fading spirit inside me and I honestly think it helped me blow up my life. Now I’m working to become true to myself and get back to my roots. My boys are more free and are gaining the benefit of working to build something with their (much happier) mom. I could never have predicted that a week-long trip to the Cotswolds would have led to this future, but I’m grateful for it every day.