Home in the Finger Lakes

05/25/2026

Every once in a while I am so in awe of the generosity and kindness of others, and what it means to come from a small community. When I lost the auction for the Sodus Center mill sign, I tried to accept it gracefully. I wrote about the sting of losing it, reasoning that sometimes losing a thing is how you find its true value. I thought the story ended when the virtual gavel came down.

I didn’t realize that what I wrote had set off a chain of events orchestrated by the community I once called home. I didn't know that the auction company owner had read my words, or that they had been forwarded to the winning bidder by five different people. I didn't know that when the winning bidder picked up the signs, he told them, "Someone else really wanted these. I only need one. If you can find the other bidder, I’d be willing to offer one to them." And I certainly didn't know that this buyer, a complete stranger, would understand exactly what that painted piece of wood meant to a girl who grew up in Sodus, and offer to put it in my hands.

When the auctioneer messaged me to tell me the news, she said something that still haunts me: “Things have a way of finding their way to where they belong.”

You think those who get to hold a piece of their town's history are the ones who have the money. You think it all comes down to who can hold their nerve and place the highest bid before the clock runs out. But sometimes, it's about the invisible community of stewards who recognize that an artifact isn't just an object. It's a memory, and it knows its way home.

I am humbled and incredibly thankful ❤️

05/25/2026

When I lost the auction for this Sodus Center mill sign, I thought the story was over. I wrote about losing it, reasoning that sometimes losing a thing is how you find its true value.

But I didn’t know my words were being forwarded to the winning bidder by five different people.

I didn't know this complete stranger would offer to put this painted piece of wood directly into my hands.

When the auctioneer told me the news, she said: “Things have a way of finding their way to where they belong.”

You think holding onto history is about who has the deepest pockets. But sometimes, it's an invisible community of stewards recognizing that an artifact is really a memory, and it knows its way home.

05/24/2026

Sometimes you cross a threshold and walk right into a story that consumes you.

Today on the Substack, I'm sharing an excerpt from the manuscript. I talk a bit about how the focus of this book has shifted away from the men whose deaths started the investigation, and toward the women who were left to clean up the wreckage.

Link to the new snippet is in the comments.

05/22/2026

"Running around like a chicken with its head cut off..."

We've all been there! But if you spend enough time with chickens, you start to realize that almost all of our best phrases about human nature actually come straight from the henhouse. 🐓🥚

From establishing the "pecking order" to waiting for the "chickens to come home to roost," our ancestors were paying close attention to the flock. I just published a new piece on the blog looking at the history behind these old farm sayings.

Read it here: https://homeinthefingerlakes.com/wisdom-from-the-flock-old-chicken-sayings-and-what-they-mean/

Which of these sayings do you find yourself using the most?

Discover the true farm origins of classic chicken sayings like 'Pecking Order' and 'Chickens Come Home to Roost.' Learn the timeless wisdom behind these expressions.

05/10/2026

I spent a few summer nights as a teenager on the bank of the mill pond in Sodus Center. At the time I didn't know anything about the mill. You don't think about that kind of thing at seventeen.

I found a pair of hand-painted telephone signs from an old Sodus Center mill on a online auction. Green background, yellow lettering. The hand-painted wood kind that doesn't turn up twice in a lifetime of looking.

I lost them, after blowing through every reasonable price limit I set for myself while the auction was live.

Sometimes losing a thing is how you find it. New essay on the blog.

[Link in comments]

05/10/2026

Happy Mother's Day to everyone out here doing the quiet, steady, unglamorous work of keeping things alive...whether that's a family, a garden, an animal, or just a household that keeps going. That's the real thing. Enjoy your day.

05/07/2026

My cousin kept milk goats for a few years, and watching her make fresh cheese on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon is the reason I started making it myself. Milk, vinegar, salt. That's it. Ready in about an hour, better than anything from the store, and somehow it tastes like spring every single time.

The full recipe is on the blog including the best kind of milk to use, you don't need a herd of milk goats!

There's a cheese you can make on a Tuesday afternoon with nothing but milk, vinegar, and salt, and eat that same night. Fresh homemade farmer's cheese, stirred with chives, pressed into a round, and served with crackers and whatever fruit looks good. No special skills. No fancy equipment. Just the o...

04/03/2026

My style leans much more primitive these days but there is something and a vintage vignette for Easter 🐣

03/29/2026

Our neighbor dropped off her grandfather's journals this week — every day accounted for from 1921 to 1991. Names I've always known as places on this farm are showing up as actual people. Neighbors. Men working together. I have no idea what I'm doing with this yet, but I wrote about where I'm starting.

03/22/2026

Spring is here, at least, that's what the calendar says. Winter seems unconvinced though.
I've been starting seeds for a while now. Tomatoes, peppers, asters, snapdragons. There's something about tending plants before the world outside has committed to being spring that feels exactly right for where I am this March.
New post is up on Substack. Come read if you're also stuck somewhere between winter and spring, link in the comments...