Pampered on a hippie's budget

Pampered doesn't mean expensive, and it definitely doesn't mean fussy.

I'm a feral housewife and boy mom with dirt under my nails, a starter on the shelf, and a four-year-old inflatable hot tub that still holds heat. Everything on this site is something I actually own, bought with my own money and used long enough to know where it gives out.

You won't find a styled kitchen here. You'll find flour on the counter, a book that lives open at page 168, and a short list of things that do the job without asking much of you.

Start wherever you're curious (or wherever you're stuck). The bread gear runs deepest, the garden takes the mornings, and the evenings end up in a fifty-dollar pool — which is all a good evening ever really cost.

Honest, lived-in, and nothing here you can't afford.