Rooted in the Earth: A Personal Journey Through Gardening, Good Food, and the Heart of Small Farms
My journey with plants didn’t start in a classroom or a business plan. It began in the quiet corners of my early twenties, digging into the dirt with my bare hands, coaxing herbs and vegetables from sun-warmed soil. I didn’t know then what it would become—I just knew that something inside me came alive when I grew something with care and watched it nourish others.
That small garden, tucked behind a rental home and surrounded by mismatched pots, taught me more than how to grow basil or coax tomatoes onto a vine. It planted the seeds of something much deeper: a love of whole, organic food and a reverence for what it takes to bring it from soil to plate.
As I learned to cook with the things I grew, I fell in love with ingredients. I wanted to know where they came from, how they were grown, and how what we eat affects not only our health but the land we rely on. That curiosity led me to explore organic farming, traditional foodways, and the science of flavor—eventually taking me into the delicious rabbit hole of small-batch ice cream and alternative frozen treats. Yes, ice cream. There’s real chemistry in it! I taught myself the balance of fat and sugar, the impact of air and temperature, how to infuse herbs or fruits for depth and texture. It was a joyfully nerdy, sensory-rich process—and it taught me that good food is an art rooted in science and love.
Later, my curiosity expanded beyond my own kitchen and garden. I started studying viniculture and viticulture, learning how soil composition, climate, and even vineyard elevation shape the grapes we drink. I became fascinated by the stories wine could tell about the land it came from. Different wine regions—each with their unique minerals and histories—mirror what I’ve always loved about small farms: a sense of place, a relationship to the earth, and the quiet pride of craftsmanship.
Today, my hands are more experienced in the garden. I still grow much of our food and guide others to do the same. I shop at local farm markets, and I make it a point to support the small growers whose produce, eggs, meat, and flowers nourish our bodies and our soil. Because what we buy—and who we buy it from—matters. It matters for our health, for our communities, and for the resilience of our environment.
Clean eating, organic choices, and sustainable products are more than just lifestyle preferences. They are acts of stewardship. Of responsibility. Of love. And behind every small farm, every hand-picked bouquet or just-laid egg, is a family or a farmer whose labor deserves our respect and our support.
That’s why Cedar & Stone exists. I’ve walked both the rows of raised beds and the corridors of financial planning. I know what it’s like to nurture something from seed to harvest—whether it’s a tomato or a business. My goal is simple: to use my experience in finance and deep love of small agriculture to help our farmers and small business owners not just survive, but succeed—for this generation and the next.
Supporting our growers and makers isn’t just good economics. It’s how we keep our communities strong, our land healthy, and our children well-fed.
From seed to spreadsheet, I’m here for all of it.
