We live on what I think may be the windiest mountain in Montana, although some folks may think otherwise. Calling this place home has taught us about resilience, patience, and the beauty of small things done well that endure. Our the days are shaped by weather and work: tending the flock, the horses and chickens, chasing the dogs, drying wood by the stove, mending fences, and of course crocheting wool and carving spoons.

Our tiny workshop, once a Yellowstone National Park cabin, hums with the rhythm of our two passions. My wool comes from our sheep, turned into neckties meant for the people who live close to the land, and want to look good doing it while keeping warm. My husband’s woodwork comes from trees that once stood in places we love, carved into spoons and spatulas that tell quiet stories of their own.

Every piece we make is a keepsake of this place — handmade, heartfelt, and a little bit weathered by the wind.