The baobab tree, with its ancient skin and root-like limbs, levitates above our landscape. To me it’s the n’anga of trees. The magical medicine man. The traditional healer.
I love learning. I especially love learning new things about ethnic food.
We make stock all the time, and we use stock all the time. In soups. In stews. In risotto. In quinoa or couscous.
Chris and I have started eating differently.
There’s an air of happy expectancy settling in among our fruit trees. Or maybe it’s just an air of happy expectancy around Chris and me.
Because of a crushing farming schedule, our friend Bruce was unable to attend my recent 50th birthday party.
