Welcome to Life in the Making.
“The initial mystery that attends any journey is: how did the traveller reach his starting point in the first place? How did I reach the window, the walls, the fireplace, the room itself; how do I happen to be beneath this ceiling and above this floor? Oh, that is a matter for conjecture, for argument pro and con, for research, supposition, dialectic! I can hardly remember how. … I have no maps to hand, no globe of the terrestrial or the celestial spheres, no chart of mountains, lakes, no sextant, no artificial horizon. If ever I possessed a compass, it has long since disappeared. There must be, however, some reasonable explanation for my presence here. Some step started me toward this point, as opposed to all other points on the habitable globe. ”
Louise Bogan, Journey Around My Room
Hi, I'm Kat.
I’m an Iowan turned smallholder, living at the edge of the Scottish Highlands where the wind is fierce, the goats are escape artists, and the to-do list is endless. I make things—mostly food, sometimes messes, occasionally questionable fashion choices—and I write about it all here.
This newsletter is a behind-the-scenes look at my life as a grower, maker, writer, and co-founder of Goat Rodeo Goods, a small-batch preserving company tackling food waste and celebrating the messy, seasonal beauty of British produce. It’s part journal, part field notes, part dispatch from the front lines of building a startup while living off kale and stubborn optimism.
Before launching a preserving company, I spent over 15 years teaching and writing about food and craft, publishing zines, running events, and working with community groups to share practical skills—from beekeeping and composting to breadmaking and garden design. That work continues today, both on our seven-acre tenancy and through our collaborations with local food networks and grassroots organisations.
In another part of Scotland, this place might be called a croft. We grow food (some years more than others), keep goats, chickens, ducks, bees, and a pig named Loretta, who contributes nothing but glamour. Our focus is on soil-first growing—regenerative in principle if not in jargon—and on finding low-tech, collective ways to live well and leave things better than we found them.
This newsletter is not a highlight reel. It's a place for long-form writing, half-finished ideas, small triumphs, and honest failures. I believe in transparency, messy kitchens, community over competition, and singing voice notes off-key. If that sounds like your kind of thing, pull up a chair.
