I love giving handmade gifts. Not because it saves money (though sometimes it does), but because it feels real—like a small piece of time and thought wrapped up in something tangible. Lately, I’ve been diving into YouTube for fresh inspiration, and these makers have quickly become favorites. They teach with heart, work with simple materials, and remind me why I fell in love with making in the first place.

My first attempt at grinding sprouted spelt was... memorable. I’d read about the fresh flavor, but no one warned me it behaves like fairy dust. Within minutes, my kitchen sparkled like a snow globe — golden flecks everywhere, including the dog. Now I grind outdoors, feeling every bit the mountain homesteader as the wind carries away the extra flour.

Fabric scissors aren’t like garden shears or kitchen knives. They’re precision instruments meant to shear rather than slice, which means their edge needs a bit of “bite.” Too polished, and they’ll slide over fabric instead of cutting it.

Here’s what works—and what doesn’t.

This fall I finally faced the question every apartment or condominium gardener asks at least once: How do I make compost without a yard, without spending a fortune, and without making the neighbors hate me?

When someone crosses my threshold, I want them to know one thing right away: they are wanted here. Not tolerated, not managed—wanted. I want them to feel the calm in the room, smell something comforting in the air, and sense that I’ve made space not just for their belongings, but for them. My hope is that, for however long they’re here, they’ll exhale a little deeper and feel seen.

There was a time you could wander into your favorite fabric store, pull down a bolt, and tell everything you needed to know just by rubbing the cloth between your fingers. You could feel if it would drape like a dream or hold its shape through a dozen washings. But as more and more brick-and-mortar fabric stores close, most of us are now buying fabric online. And while that’s convenient, it means we’re often left guessing about one key thing we can’t feel through a screen: fabric weight.

I love using my Homestead Companion! I wanted to begin planning to use my small garden space efficiently, so I requested:

“I live in Zone 6B. I want to plan an apothecary herb garden in a raised garden bed with dimensions of 72 in. L x 25.28 in. W x 30 in. H (a total of 7.8 cubic feet). The design is shown. It is October 17. Plan the garden for me.” I uploaded a photo of my raised garden bed. Here are the results!

Every year, I’d tell myself I’d start winter prep early. And every year, I’d find myself knee-deep in old notes, chicken books, and too many tabs open on my laptop. Eight hens don’t sound like much—until you’re trying to remember whether you were supposed to add straw first or scrape the perches first, or what month to switch feed.

I opened The Modern Everyday Homestead Companion and made one simple request.

Hand embroidery doesn’t have to live only on heirloom linens or framed samplers. Some of the most delightful stitches can show up in the heart of the home—the kitchen. Everyday pieces like aprons, napkins, or even a jar wrap become more meaningful with just a bit of thread and imagination.

This post offers a baker’s dozen (thirteen!) small embroidery motifs designed especially for the kitchen, along with practical ways to use them and multiple methods for transferring your design to fabric.

Fall gatherings call for a table that feels abundant and welcoming. Whether you’re celebrating Thanksgiving, Sukkot, or simply sharing a meal with friends, the table becomes a place of story, memory, and gratitude. Here are five ways to bring warmth, tradition, and a handmade touch to your autumn table.

When Sukkot rolls around each fall, I always feel a deep sense of both homecoming and journey. This is the time when we remember how God sheltered His people in the wilderness, and also rejoice in the harvest He still provides today. Our homes and our hearts become little “booths” of thanksgiving.

One of my favorite ways to mark the season is with crafts that bring the story right into our hands. This year, I designed a Sukkot flag to hang in the sukkah, wave during celebration, or simply brighten up a window or wall.

Bring the beauty of the harvest and the Word of God to your table this fall. This project combines elegant scalloped edges, appliquéd pomegranates, and embroidered scripture to create a runner that’s as meaningful as it is beautiful.

Out here on the homestead, nothing goes to waste—not fabric scraps, not fence posts, not even a block of wood. And when it comes to sewing, the right seam makes the difference between “it’ll do” and “this will last.” Let’s walk through the most useful seam types, then I’ll show you the little block of hardwood that makes them look sharp: the tailor’s clapper.

Fall is the season of Sukkot, the Festival of Ingathering, and these block-printed tea towels are my nod to the harvest. Using hand-carved linoleum stamps, I press motifs of grapes, pomegranates, and wheat onto simple flour sack towels.

Life on the homestead is full of moving parts—gardens that need tending, meals to prepare, projects to track, and family rhythms to keep. Sometimes it feels like there just aren’t enough hours in the day. That’s where technology can lend a helping hand.

AI isn’t just a glorified list keeper or scheduler. It can actually help solve problems that come up on the homestead. Maybe your tomatoes look healthy but aren’t producing fruit—AI can walk you through possible causes like soil imbalance, pollination issues, or inconsistent watering. If your goat is suddenly in distress, AI can quickly suggest what to check before you call the vet.

On my homestead, bats are part of the evening rhythm. They swoop silently over the garden beds as fireflies begin to blink, reminding me that this little patch of earth is alive and interconnected. The fewer mosquitoes we have to swat and the fewer pests chewing up my crops, the more I can rest in gratitude for the quiet work these creatures do.

I love the feeling of bringing in a basket of fresh-picked vegetables from the garden—or grabbing a few bunches of organic produce at the market when I don’t have a garden going. Whether it’s just-washed lettuce or a bundle of carrots still speckled with earth, that freshness is something I want to hold onto.

A medicinal herb garden is more than just a collection of pretty plants—it’s a living apothecary. These herbs, often used for centuries in traditional healing systems, offer natural support for everything from headaches to coughs to sore muscles.

In our home, broth is no longer a once-in-a-while thing. It’s a constant presence—a quiet helper in nearly every meal. It stretches flavors. It boosts nutrition. It ties my small city kitchen to generations of cooks who saw broth not as a side task, but a cornerstone of nourishing home life.

Here’s how I use broth all week long—and how you can too.