Basically, I’m a wacky jill-of-all-trades. I seem to know *just* enough to be dangerous, and feisty.
I have four kids (currently 12yo, 10yo, 8yo, 6yo).
I started on the slippery slope of all things hippie/alternative/crunchy many moons ago when I was looking into cloth diapers for my oldest child. That just started an unstoppable snowball, resulting in me having three homebirths, nursing for seemingly forever (hey, you nurse through a few pregnancies and tell me how you fare!), homeschooling for a number of years, and having a little suburban homestead. It’s not a giant piece of acreage, but it’s mine, it’s cute, and I have really great neighbors.
Currently I am working on extra income streams. Selling seedlings, excess produce, homemade tinctures, extracts, salves, and hand sewn goods (felt food, cute holiday ornaments, among others) for starters. So far, who knows what else I may add in the future, possibly even treehouse or shed construction or a Lego store, the future is wide open. Until then, there are lots of flavored extracts steeping away in the basement, salves to be concocted, and seeds to be saved.
As for where the name came from?
More than a few years ago, our family was up huckleberry picking in the forest. I could swear I heard rustling in the woods behind us. A ways away, but I still heard it. Was told it was nothing by the kids’ dad, so we kept picking huckleberries. After we were done, got the kids buckled into the car, we went a little farther up the hill to a switchback to turn around, and to scout for some firewood. Lo and behold, on the backside of the mountain where we’d been picking, across the forest service road saunters a moose. So it then became a family joke that it was an angry moose, that we’d been stealing his huckleberries. Plus, you know, it’s a fun, memorable name. A very North Idaho story, from what I’ve been told as I regale others with said tale.