This essay originally aired on Feb. 1, 2018.
I believe in the small joy of washing with carrot-ginger soap.
I believe in baking five-grain rye bread with cracked rye berries, naturally leavened with sourdough and baked on a hot stone. Taking baths in the dark with candlelight. Canning dill green beans and pickling beets.
I believe in picnicking by wooded streams while waiting for my wife and friends to finish hiking, which I don’t believe in.