Common Sense Home Good News Letter 11/1/25


Baskets, boxes, buckets, bottles, bins...the harvest season was drawing to a close, and the fruits of months of labor were carefully stored around the home, waiting to carry the family to the next harvest, and perhaps a bit beyond. It was a lifestyle that required dedication and determination, but the rewards were enjoyed daily with a bountiful table.

We were gifted with empty canning jars from two different friends this year. One friend is elderly, and decided to stop canning because it's a bit much for her to tackle, and she and her husband are light eaters. The other is about my age, and purchased jars in anticipation of doing a fair amount of canning. Then she tried it, and found out that it wasn't for her - and that's okay. (She's one heck of an accountant - an activity that I tackle only under duress.)

So often were sold the idea that you "have to" do this project, or "must learn" this skill to be a homesteader or prepper or whatever the label of the day is. The reality is that not everyone has the same skills or interests. Not everyone is at a time in their lives where certain activities make sense for them. What a boring world it would be if we were all the same.

We can and preserve a lot of food, but if I didn't have supportive family members, I would do a lot less. Even if you don't do much preserving, fall is a good time to stock up on vegetables that store well with very little preparation.

Onions, potatoes, and winter squash (and pumpkins) keep well at cool room temps. You don't want them to freeze, but an unheated porch or garage may be a perfect spot to store them for months. (You can learn more about above ground storage options here.) Cabbage holds pretty well, too, and you can turn it into kraut for longer storage.

Between Abundance and Stillness

As autumn deepens and frost silvers the mornings, the old Celtic festival of Samhain (October 31st to November 1st) marked more than the end of harvest — it was a time to pause between the abundance of summer and the stillness of winter. Families gathered around bonfires, shared a portion of the season’s bounty, and gave thanks for the stores that would see them through the cold months ahead.

Samhain reminds us that resilience isn’t just about holding on — it’s also about letting go. The land rests so it can renew. We can do the same. The quiet season gives us space to reflect on what worked, release what didn’t, and prepare for the next cycle of growth.

Small Ways to Celebrate the Season

  • Light a candle as the days shorten, symbolizing warmth and continuity through dark months.
  • Give thanks for this year’s harvest — in food, experiences, and lessons learned.
  • Share a meal made from stored or preserved foods, connecting with the old rhythm of eating from the year’s work.
  • Set intentions for winter — not resolutions, but small ways to rest, learn, and grow while the soil sleeps. Think about how you can nurture and restore your body, mind, and spirit.

Resilience means trusting the cycle — knowing that even in dormancy, life is preparing to bloom again.

All our best to you and yours,

Laurie (and August IV, August V, and Duncan)

This week's featured articles...

Want a fun seasonal coffee drink without shelling out big bucks? Check out this pumpkin pie sauce recipe made with real pumpkin and common pantry ingredients. Just blend it into your coffee, top with a little whipped cream and cinnamon, and snuggle in with a favorite book or craft project.

If you need something more in the tonic category, try some elderberry tea instead.

Like everything else, the price of seasoned croutons keeps creeping up, but you can whip them up at home with leftover bread. Use fresh for salad toppers, or if you want to make them up ahead for Thanksgiving, store them in the freezer to keep them fresh and ready for your favorite homemade stuffing recipe.

It's been a relatively mild start to fall (at least in our area), but I know it's only a matter of time until the snow arrives, and with it, the risk of power lines going down in winter storms.

Use this article to get a some simple preps in place now to make sure you and those you care about stay warm when the grid goes down.

Recommended reading for reflection...

The Four Agreements - It's an easy read, and a good reminder that if you focus on the basics, the rest sorts itself out.

Laurie Neverman @ Common Sense Home

Nearly 20 years ago, we set out to create a self-reliant homestead. Now we produce our own food and our own power, and can tackle whatever craziness this wild world throws at us. If you’re ready take back control from Big Pharma and Big Food and feel confident facing Everyday Emergencies, join us.

Read more from Laurie Neverman @ Common Sense Home
easy pumpkin dip

Frost clung to the ground most mornings now, making early chores rather chilly, especially when the long, half-frozen grass soaked your socks through the holes of your garden clogs. (Note to self - it may be time for closed toe shoes.) Oddly, the trellised tomato plants still lingered, not thriving, but greeting each day with hope of returning warmth. The squash vines perished weeks ago, but the tomatoes are a stubborn lot this year. We've cleared the tomato plants twice now, anticipating...

simmering potpourri for natural air freshening

Scarlett swaths of color caught my eyes in the morning light, erupting on the south hill - the sugar maples! Planted years ago, we'd used the autumn olive bushes as nursery plants to protect them from the scouring winds. Now there was no missing how they had outgrown their protectors, spreading their canopies on the hillside. It'll be at least another decade before they're ready for tapping (likely longer), but someday homemade maple syrup will be a part of the bounty of our land. The fall...

banana bread

"Look at that! How did that get there?" My husband was pointing to a Grandpa Ott's morning glory flower, which had planted itself at the base of an autumberry bush, that had planted itself in the raised beds that made up the retaining walls near our front door. Nary a sprinkle of rain had fallen in some days, and the bed was filled with gravel and a thin topping of soil, but that volunteer flower was tenaciously clinging to that volunteer plant like it was climbing up the finest trellis in a...