Central Market

     In preparation for Easter, my mom and I took a morning trip down to the city of Lancaster, where we browsed the vibrant and busy isles of Central Market for some hosting necessities. I have found my new favorite place. This food filled destination has been around for 275 years, and is the oldest continuously operated farmer's market in the country!  It's located in a massive building downtown near the art galleries. And hosts nearly sixty different vendors. If you are ever visiting the area, I highly recommend stopping in the market.

Buying flowers!

Lovely Lettuce

Happy Holy Week!



Physics Project

    I'm sorry I was absent last week and Yesterday. I got the stomach bug and then had a very difficult time with homework. Anyway, today I thought I would share a video that I made for my Physics class a couple months back. I had a lot of fun creating it.

Have a lovely week!

Veronica A.


Doves in Our Windows

 "And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light 'day,' and the darkness he called 'night.' And there was evening, and there was morning-- the first day." ~Genesis 1:3-5
"What is your favorite part about your new home?" It is a frequent question I am asked. My first reply is the sunset. The glowing warmth that beams through our windows in the evening is simply majestic. I'm no less busy in Quarryville than I was in New York City, but sometimes I wish I had time to just sit and soak up the finishing hours of the day. Light is a blessing.

~ A daughter of God


Oat Farls

     The fondest memories from my younger years often concern food and eating. I used to sit on the kitchen floor, in a particular corner, eating crackers with my little brother. Sometimes I would wake up to the delightful sound of sizzling pancakes and my mother bustling around the kitchen.  Oat farls played a not so small role in my childhood happiness.
      They are essentially moist oat cakes, probably created to use up old oatmeal. The recipe comes from a little Celtic cook book, in which I have found some of the most delectable tastes. Thankfully, this mixture is incredibly forgiving and very easy. I had neither buttermilk nor baking soda and the farls turned out fine. Instead of buttermilk I simply used regular milk.

Oat Farls

2 cups of rolled oats (not instant)
1 1/4 to 2 1/4 cups buttermilk
2 1/2 cups unbleached flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda

{1} The day before serving, mix the oats with 1 1/4 cups buttermilk. Cover with plastic wrap or plate and let stand overnight at room temperature (I made oatmeal the night before instead of this step.)
{2} Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease a baking sheet and set aside.
{3} Stir together the flour, salt, and baking soda. Gradually beating flour mixture into the oat mixture to form a soft dough. Add more buttermilk if necessary.
{4} On pan shape dough into circles about 4 in. across.
{5} Bake for about 40 minutes, until browned.

      These might seem a little plain on first taste, but slap some butter on them and you won't be able to stop eating them. When we were younger, my siblings and I, would eat them right out of the oven with butter and honey, so delicious. Oat farls are also good with jam or molasses.
      I wasn't too into oatmeal as a little girl, but these won me over.

Have a lovely day!



Another Year of Existence

    As I look back over my sixteenth year of life, I realize it was an exciting one. So much happened, our church came to a close, we took a three week road trip to the Grand Canyon, and we moved to Quarryville. Although it was probably the strangest and most confusing time of my life, I wouldn't trade it for anything. God blessed me in the most mysterious ways. For this next period of my existence, I pray and hope that the Lord will make himself known to me in even more layers of my crazy life.

Have a blessed day!



Veronica has been abducted by aliens who only speak Greek. They took her 20,000 leagues under the sea and then back in time to Rome around 55 A.D. In order to get home she must rhetor her way out of the Senate, and use her knowledge of Trigonometry and Electromagnetism to return to her time. After which she'll have to take her driver's test to obtain her license.

She'll be back next Wednesday.



      This place used to be my timeless, wonder abode. I would tramp behind the house to dive into my imagination, teaming with fairies and knights. And Aslan, that faceless friend who would give his hand for me to step on. Among the white clover flowers my little, bare feet tenderly, trod. Whispering, I renewed my adventures. That place was my playground.
      It wasn't the front yard that the sunlight attacked with its heat and cooked the patio stones. Not where my brother's rackets rose and rumbled. Not where cars and neighbors could see my meanderings. Not where time passed.
      This place was where the sun was held back, and only the softest beams were allowed to shine. Where time was held still. Where silence reigned. I knew that place well.

     Now it's a forgotten room. A place I no longer pace. When cities took my green glade away, I learned to walk in wonder among people. My feet on concrete taught me the way of remembering dreams and growing new ones. Yet I no longer wore crowns.
    The country restored the key to me. A new room with old feelings echo the yearnings of my littler heart. Its grass is different and trees don't hold its rim. But I see the river of the flowing dream world. It's in every backyard. Time to dive back in.