Kneading Love:
A certain kind of magic happens in our primitive outdoor kitchen. The daily rhythm of gathering, creating, and sharing feels as natural as the wind through the trees. Cooking with our Wildlings is, without a doubt, one of my favorite parts of the day.
(And yes, I’ve said that about nearly every part of our day. But hear me out—each moment in our farm and forest school holds its magic, and my favorite depends on which one I’m dreaming about now.)
There’s just something about the overflowing baskets of freshly harvested and foraged ingredients, the troupe of eager Wildlings, and the zany forest school guides (who may or may not add a little extra chaos to the process) that makes time in the kitchen feel like an outpouring of love.
As we begin food prep together, that love rises, much like our dough. Mr. Scott, ever the entertainer, flumps it onto the worktable in front of a captivated audience—sometimes from three feet above if he’s feeling theatrical. Tiny hands reach in, pressing, stretching, folding, and massaging, working love into each kneaded movement.
We shape it into something beautiful that nourishes both body and soul. We carry it to the wood-fired oven, where the heat of nature’s flame completes the transformation. The Wildlings watch in awe as something so simple—flour, water, time, and love—becomes glorious—warm bread slathered in sweet farm butter, shared with smiles and gratitude.
Mr. Scott’s bread routine has always been a labor of love, and sharing it with our Wildlings each day weaves us closer together. Through baking and breaking bread, we love each other in the purest, most straightforward way.
This morning, as I sit bundled up against the last stretch of winter, I find myself longing for the warmth of our outdoor kitchen, for the time when my hands can work dough on the breadboard without mittens. But soon—so very soon—in less than a month, Mr. Scott and I will stand behind the workbench once more, surrounded by our eager spring session Wildlings, sharing an outpouring of love through soups, sips, and homemade bread.
And I can’t wait.
-Miss Erin
