A Quiet Commitment to the Image: Jacob Rossi

His relationship with photography didn’t begin with certainty—it began with hesitation. First drawn to the camera around 2015, he flirted with the idea before stepping away, unsure if the craft would truly take hold. It wasn’t until 2020, after years of restlessness and an unshakable pull toward making images, that photography became more than a passing interest. From that moment on, it became something deeper: a devotion.

His approach to image-making is both intentional and exploratory. Sometimes he arrives with a vision already formed; other times, the photograph reveals itself through subtle shifts—moving a few feet, changing perspective, waiting for the frame to settle. He believes small adjustments can dramatically alter the emotional weight of an image, and he values experimentation over imitation, always seeking a fresh angle rather than a familiar one.

Over time, the camera has taught him patience—not just in composition, but in presence. He’s learned that the act of photographing can easily pull you away from the very moment you’re trying to preserve. Now, he slows down, allowing himself to absorb the smell of the air, the weather, the feeling of place, understanding that the experience matters as much as the image itself.

At the heart of his work is a quiet reverence for craftsmanship. His photographs speak to a time when things were built to last—when care, detail, and intention were part of the process. Through his lens, he invites viewers to notice the small things, to appreciate effort, beauty, and the human hands behind what we create. Photography, for him, is more than documentation; it’s a way to honor work, place, and purpose.

And perhaps most telling of all—this is the first thing he has ever loved doing without question. Photography allows him to explore new places, but more importantly, it gives him the chance to give something back: an image that might move someone, comfort them, or change the way they see the world. That possibility is what keeps him pressing the shutter.

At home with Susan Marsh

Western Massachusetts is home to fertile soils, rolling hills, a seemingly endless string of centuries old small towns, and the Berkshire mountains. For years people have flocked to this area, be it to set up a homestead, to leaf peep in the autumn, or to enjoy the small town life. Many of these people often come from Boston, but for Susan Marsh the origin, along with her husband, was small midwestern towns. Their daughter, Jess, married a tenth generation farmer from the fertile valley of western Massachusetts and they soon felt the call to move from Michigan to Massachusetts themselves

“When we moved to be close to our daughter, I was determined to find a special place where my desire for authentic surroundings could flourish,” says Susan. Susan continues that the stars aligned and a house, with a barn and charming chicken coop set on a 28 acre wooded piece of hilltown heaven, presented itself like the best gift ever.” The home with handcrafted windows, doors, hardware along with plastered walls, ceilings and an abundance of hand planed wood walls, are some of the things that took their breath away. A walking tour of the rugged terrain was a magical “seal the deal” moment as they feel most comfortable in quiet natural places where they say they are entertained by owls having conversations with one another, and an occasional visit by bears. 

The home, a saltbox colonial era style design, was actually built in the 1980s by the previous homeowner who wanted to create a timepiece of the past. Using designs from the era she worked to bring the house together with details and craftsmanship that have long been lost by more practical and less decorative design trends and methods of the past two centuries. 

“The interior spaces of our house are a reflection of the serenity of the outdoors, its changing seasons, with a nod to historical interpretation. A calm color palette along with lots of texture keep a balance of peacefulness while being interesting. Light elements balance the darkness of wood, which has aged patina. The original owner rightfully boasts that there is not a single brushstroke of poly anything on the wood in the house. The presence of imperfection fits perfectly with the hand crafted history of our desire to make things rather than buy them. There are hints of a frustrated dog wanting into a space, claw graffiti and the most touching growth chart on an upright post, which we hope to carry on.” 

The home is one that feels timeless and comfortable, one that feels like living history, but still has its elements of modernity. With level floors, solar panels, and air conditioning throughout the home it is a house that feels like it could live on for centuries to come.

Merry Christmas

May your home hum with old songs and soft laughter,

your kitchen smell like butter and something baking just a minute too long,

and your heart feel full in that quiet, holy way Christmas brings.

Here’s to twinkling lights that stay up past January,

hands wrapped around warm mugs,

stories told for the hundredth time,

and love that feels handmade and well-worn.

May this Christmas be gentle, magical, and a little whimsical—

the kind you tuck away and remember on ordinary days.

A Muffin Born of Christmas Mornings

There’s something about Christmas mornings that feels softer than the rest of the year. The house is quiet, the light is pale and hopeful, and the kitchen smells like citrus peel and something sweet waiting in the oven. These muffins feel like they were born for that moment—bright with orange, tart with cranberry, and finished with a gentle drizzle of icing like fresh snow on the windowsill.

They’re the kind of muffin you bake while still in slippers, when the coffee is strong and the world hasn’t quite woken up yet.

These muffins taste like Christmas feels.

Like mornings when the house is still sleepy and the tree lights are the only thing awake. When the air smells like oranges and pine needles and something sweet baking in the oven. Cranberries burst like little holiday surprises, and the orange keeps everything bright—even on the grayest winter day.

I imagine these muffins being baked in an old kitchen, handwritten recipe card smudged with flour, someone humming softly while snow taps the window. They’re not fancy. They’re familiar. Comforting. The kind of recipe that gets passed down simply because it made people feel warm.

Best enjoyed with coffee, cozy socks, and nowhere you need to be.

Orange & Cranberry Christmas Muffins with Vanilla Snow Icing

Ingredients

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• ¾ cup sugar

• 2 teaspoons baking powder

• ½ teaspoon baking soda

• ½ teaspoon salt

• Zest of 1 large orange

• ½ cup fresh orange juice

• ½ cup milk

• ⅓ cup vegetable oil or melted butter

• 2 eggs

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

• 1½ cups fresh or frozen cranberries (roughly chopped if large)

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🤍 Vanilla Snow Icing

• 1 cup powdered sugar

• 2–3 tablespoons fresh orange juice

• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract

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How to Make Them

1. Preheat oven to 375°F and line a muffin tin with paper liners.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and orange zest.

3. In another bowl, mix orange juice, milk, oil, eggs, and vanilla until smooth.

4. Gently fold wet ingredients into dry—stir just until combined.

5. Fold in cranberries.

6. Divide batter evenly into muffin cups.

7. Bake for 18–22 minutes, until tops are lightly golden and a toothpick comes out clean.

8. Cool slightly.

For the icing, whisk powdered sugar, orange juice, and vanilla until silky. Drizzle over warm muffins and let it drip naturally—no need to be tidy.

DO IT YOURSELF: DRIED NATURALS

Fall and Winter are my favorite seasons to decorate. As a child I loved going through the seed catalogs each year to select which exotic varieties of pumpkins I would grow on the farm. Every year it became a thrill to decorate as much as possible with these pumpkins, the scarecrows, and the fodder-shocks around the farm. As I’ve grown older I’ve begun to bring these outdoor elements inside more and more. I love the way dried grasses, grapevines, gourds, and flowers compliment my collections of folk art and antiques throughout the season

When planning your harvest themed décor, go into the fields and fencerows, creeks, and even your yard. Never underestimate the value of a large grouping of dried hydrangeas or dried herbs. Goldenrod, the state flower of Kentucky, is my very favorite Fall flower. Cut them early in the season, when they have just reached their peak gold color and dry them upside down in a dark space to ensure the colors don’t turn to brown.

Inexpensive grapevine wreaths can easily be unwound and turned into bases for Autumn garlands. Fill with dried flowers, pinecones, nuts, or other elements that can be wired in. I personally love filling vintage jars and bottles with beautiful dried cattails, foxtails, and ornamental grasses for tall centerpieces that go vertical rather than horizontal. Naturally never forget pumpkins. I still love the blue Jarrahdale pumpkins as much today as I did when I found my first one nearly twenty years ago. To finish your look mix in candles in amber glasses, use flannel or wool blankets as table covers, and use tarnished silvers and brass elements.

Strawberry Jam Season

There is something special about strawberry jam—it is instantly nostalgic. Perhaps it is the red, perhaps it is the humble flavors of the jam, or the action of spreading it on toast, but whatever it is strawberry jam is undeniably nostalgic.

It is time for the annual jam making. Strawberry season has come and gone here in Kentucky, and it was savored for those fleeting weeks of daily pickings. The jam we make becomes the reward of the season, a reminder of how delicious life in season is.

This is our annual week of offering the farm fresh jam to you. Shipped from the farm, where the berries were grown (commercially “jammed” elsewhere of course) to your kitchen table, wherever that might be.

This year we made a smaller batch that usual as we are only offering this jam for a single week. If you would like the very best strawberry jam you’ll find, made just like your grandmother did, order today. It will ship the same day it is ordered.

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When I was a kid we grew strawberries here, just as we do now, all in the spirit of my grandmother growing them years before, long before I was born. The inspiration for the annual strawberry jam offering came from the deep-freezers full of freezer jam from my childhood, the stacks of wooden strawberry crates, and the stories of my grandmother growing strawberries with abundance during her house wife years.

These days the strawberries are grown the same way and in the same place. I wanted to create something that felt like it truly came from this farm and is a part of my own history. The jam is, in my opinion, the best strawberry jam you’ll find…because of how simple and classic the recipe is.

This year only one hundred jars were made. Order before these sell out.

ORDER HERE

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2011: Our First Magazine Signing

After this many years you have a lot of memories to look back on. Some are admittedly horrible memories, but many are absolutely wonderful and life changing. There is a profound beauty to savoring the journey. There are many things I wish I could go back and do differently, but that isn’t how life works. Every day must be treated as a day to do better, to celebrate better, and to grow ever forward. Lately I’ve been looking back at back issues as we’ve been reformatting them to be reprinted and I find myself waxing poetic about the journey from that first time a friend of mine told me I should start this business, to where we are today.

These images are from our first signing, a wonderful barn sale in eastern Kentucky. I wish I could remember more about it, but I honestly don’t even remember where it was. It was perhaps somewhere off Highway 23 north of Pikeville and south of Ashland. I remember the pumpkin soap, it was the best soap I’d ever come across. I remember our booth, it was a collection of things out of my apartment. A stack of magazines, that very first issue, gosh I loved that smell of freshly printed paper back then.

These photos are from that event, I know there are more, but these are all I could find. I know there is a photo of a bench that still haunts me in the “things I should have bought” dreams.

If you’d like a copy of that first issue, they’re available below.

A Visit to Farmhouse Pottery

I, like many of you, have a love for Farmhouse Pottery. I am not sure when or where I first discovered their beautiful pieces of hand thrown pottery, but I do know that for many years I dreamt of owning a piece or two myself. If you’ve seen any of my cooking videos you know I own a growing collection and it has become my go to kitchen brand.

Whenever I am in central Vermont I make a point to stop in to their Woodstock, Vermont studio and shop to see what I’m missing, what I need to dream of owning, and what is new. I think there is something special about being in a makers studio be it a single maker or a collective of creatives like Farmhouse Pottery has assembled to bring their works to life.

These are photos I created during an early spring visit to Woodstock. If you go for a visit you will see it much like this, the large windows between the shop and the studio allow everyone to watch what is being created.

In a world of fast fashion and over-seas-factory-made places like Farmhouse Pottery are a rare treat, a place where you can actually meet the hands that create the pieces you’ll likely be passing down to future generations. | FARMHOUSEPOTTERY.COM

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