Forage & Gather
The Book Foreword
On May 1st, as the grapevines outside my window unfurled their soft pink and green leaves, I stepped back onto a long-forgotten path. The sun rose softly, tracing gold across the garden, and I opened my notebook — finally ready to write the book I’d been carrying for years.
In that quiet moment, with the earth waking beneath me, I knew I was not just beginning to write. I was beginning to remember.
Over a decade ago, I published Stirring the Senses — a book that whispered of the life I longed to live. At the time, I was still deeply immersed in a world I had helped build: I ran a beautiful, successful family business devoted to elegance, luxury, and entertaining. My days were filled with china and crystal, schedules and spreadsheets, clients and commitments. I was good at it. I loved the beauty of it. I designed table settings for the likes of Julia Child, Jacques Pepin and Todd English.
But there was a hunger beneath the glitter. A quiet ache.
I had a thousand things to do and no time to savor any of them.
I kept telling myself I’d rest “when things slowed down.”
But things never slowed down.
So I did something radical. I stopped waiting.
I stepped away from what I knew.
And I began to remember the woman I was before the world told me who I should be.
That’s when the real journey began.
Since then, I’ve made a life rooted in the rhythms of the garden, the kitchen, and the stillroom. I’ve become a grandmother — a title sweeter than any I’ve ever known. I raise chickens, who greet the morning with their soft, chuckling gossip. I grow a lot of what I eat — tomatoes warm from the vine, fragrant herbs that brush my hands with scent as I gather them. I tend to my health with herbs, food, and love — not with fear, but with reverence.
Along the way, I deepened my work as an herbalist and began guiding others on their own healing paths — through food, ritual, presence, and care. My coaching isn’t about fixing what’s broken but about helping people remember what’s whole.
Because I know now: We are already whole. We have always been.
Most days, I wake up with gratitude and go to sleep with peace. Not because life is perfect, but because I have learned how to tend it.
Forage & Gather is not a sequel. It’s a re-rooting. A reweaving.
It is part memoir, part field guide, part blessing bowl.
A spiral, not a straight line.
A garden path, not a table of contents.
It is written in season and in rhythm — alive to the energy of the day.
You’ll find stories, recipes, rituals, and the quiet wonder of a life well-tended.
You’ll find wisdom from my years in herbalism and functional healing, folded gently into soup pots, wildflower walks, and softly lit moments at the stillroom table.
We are, I believe, returning to something essential.
There are herbs on windowsills again.
We’re baking bread and making broth.
We are remembering how to tend — not just to others, but to ourselves.
And I still believe this:
As long as there is music to dance to, food to share, hands to hold, and stories to tell around the table, there is hope.
There is joy, and there is magic.
There is beauty, waiting to be made again.
This is not just my story — it is an invitation.
A reminder that we can begin again, at any moment.
All it takes is a garden, a stillroom, and a quiet courage to step back onto the path that was always waiting for us.
With love,
Beth
Meet Rowan and Frodo
This book foreword is shared through The Garden Gate—my open space for anyone who feels called to live closer to the earth, the seasons, and their own good heart.
Beyond the gate is the circle of paid subscribers where Forage & Gather will continue to unfold. You’ll still find sprigs and sips in the free space—enough to scent the air and stir your curiosity—but the fuller servings will be lovingly prepared within the members-only space. This is a book that’s being written in real time, one chapter at a time, with you beside me. There will also be a private chat for my paid subscribers where we can discuss the newest chapters if you like!
If this stirs something in you, I invite you to walk with me.
We’ll step gently through the garden gate,
the cats winding between our ankles,
the scent of thyme and rose guiding the way.
We’ll sit with a cup of tea,
stories tucked into our aprons,
and begin.
To my dear paid subscribers: thank you.
You keep the kettle warm and the candle lit.
You make this work possible, and I carry your presence in every word I write.
With my heart, my hands, and always a warm cup nearby,
Beth
