Healing Her

08/03/2026

08/03/2026

I still have a pretty good stock of my Magnesium Sprays available, and I’d love to get them into the hands of people who can use them.

💚 Sale Price: $18 (regularly $20)

So many people have told me these have become part of their bedtime routine, helping them wind down after long days, easing sore muscles, and bringing a little more calm to busy lives.

Right now I’m taking a tiny break from making products while I focus on this new chapter of life, so I thought it would be the perfect time to offer my magnesium sprays at a special price.

If you’ve been meaning to try one, or you’d like to stock up, send me a message. Local pickup only.

Thank you for supporting this little dream over the years. I appreciate every single order, and I’m looking forward to creating again when the time feels right. 🩷

08/03/2026

Since my post yesterday about grieving the farm and wondering if, somehow, I could ever make my way back there, I’ve been asked a question several times in messages.

If you could go back what would your plan actually be? What was your vision?

It’s a really good question. And honestly, I had to sit with it and I’m shocked anyone even asked me. Over the years, that vision changed as I changed.

When I first arrived at the farm, I wasn’t dreaming about businesses or flower fields. I was a single mom just trying to survive. I was learning how to figure out plowing snow so I could get to work in the am, figuring out why my lawn mower was broken again and again, hauling feed, caring for chickens, and eventually a couple pigs and goats. and learning lesson after lesson through trial and error. There were days I questioned what I had gotten myself into, but little by little, that land taught me things I never could have learned anywhere else.

The farm taught me confidence long before it taught me how to grow flowers. As the years went on, the vision became much bigger. Especially when my mama was leaving this earth, I imagined a place where people could slow down. A little farm stand with fresh sourdough, flowers in mason jars, pumpkins in the fall, herbs hanging to dry, homemade soups and preserves. Chickens wandering the yard ( I miss my ladies) , and eventually Fruit trees planted not just for me, but for my children and maybe even their children one day.

I dreamed of offering workshops, welcoming people onto the land, creating a space where families could reconnect with nature and leave feeling just a little lighter than when they arrived. I think I succeeded in this a little bit when people came for their mini sessions with photographers, but somewhere along the way the dream became about much more than flowers and bread.

I started imagining the farm as a sanctuary.

A place where women who had experienced trauma, abuse, grief, addiction, or simply the weight of life could come and breathe. Maybe that looked like a simple yurt tucked away in the back field. Maybe it was simply inviting women to spend a few quiet hours surrounded by flowers, gardens, animals, and open sky. Maybe it was a workshop, a cup of tea on the porch, fresh sourdough still warm from the oven, or simply permission to sit in silence and listen to the wind through the trees.

Maybe a women grieving loudly like I am makes people uncomfortable? I know I have a few people reading this that watch me from far wanting me to fail or say something I shouldn’t Maybe I make them uncomfortable too. Maybe grieving out loud helps other women speak their truth? But I never had every detail figured out. just knew I wanted to create a place where people felt safe.

Not a huge commercial operation. Just something honest and simple, full life. The farm was where I discovered that I could build something from nothing. It showed me that healing sometimes looks like planting seeds, mending fences, feeding animals before yourself, and believing in next season even when this one is hard.

So being asked today what my dream would be, It wouldn’t necessarily be to recreate exactly what I lost.
It would be to create that feeling again. Whether that’s on 34 acres, 3 acres, or a tiny piece of land with a little farmhouse, a farm stand, fruit trees, flowers, sourdough cooling on the counter, and a handful of chickens wandering the yard.

There are 34 acres and two barns. Truthfully, I’d be content with the house, the back field, and one barn.
Maybe someone else dreams of farming those other 30 some acres. Maybe their vision is completely different from mine, and somehow those dreams could exist side by side. It’s also a gorgeous space for a wedding venue, just never for me again 😂

It’s a lovely space for tiny houses, air b b ect

Who knows?

If you don’t put your dreams out into the universe, you’ll never know what’s possible. Most of the meaningful things I’ve done in my life felt impossible when I first started them. And if it isn’t meant to be, I trust that another dream will find me. But if it is , maybe one day we’ll get to tell the miraculous story of how a woman found her way back to the farm.

And if that story is meant for me, I’ll be here planting seeds until it finds me.

08/03/2026

If I could by some miracle go back to the farm, or somehow have those years over again, I wouldn’t spend so much time waiting for a man to show up and complete me.

Before I got married, I spent years there as a single mom, quietly believing my own Hope Floats ending would eventually arrive. I thought if I just kept working hard, loved deeply enough, and stayed patient, eventually someone would come along and we’d build the beautiful life together.

But if I’m honest, I was waiting for someone else to give me the feeling I needed to give myself. I think that’s why so many women relate to my words.

So many of us were raised on fairy tales. We were taught that one day we’d be chosen. That the happy ending arrived when someone fell in love with us. We dreamed about weddings, not nervous system regulation. We dreamed about finding the one, not finding ourselves. We learned how to take care of everyone else before we ever learned how to take care of ourselves. So we overgave, people pleased and made excuses, carrying relationships on our backs
because we’re afraid that if we stop, we’ll lose them.

We wondered if we’re asking for too much, when really we’ve been accepting too little. If I could go back, I’d spend more evenings painting the railings. I’d mend the fences. I’d plant more flowers. I’d sit on the porch with my coffee and watch the sunset without feeling like something or someone was missing, because nothing ever was.

I’d invest more in becoming the woman I wanted to be than searching for the person I hoped would complete me. Because healing doesn’t usually happen when someone rescues you. It happens when you create a life that feels safe enough to become yourself, I’ve learned that by leaving.

Looking back, I don’t think I needed a fairy tale. I needed space, space to heal, space to grow. I needed to love my own company.

Space to discover that I was already enough.

Love Kelly Mae

08/02/2026

The *** cat 🐱 , I mean the lovely little gem of a kitten knocked over my sourdough starter I’ve had for a few years. Ya, fun fun.

Anyhow, we are on day 3 with a new one, help me name it ⤵️

08/02/2026

Some people keep telling me, You need to move forward. And I am, I’m trying every single day. I daydream about what’s next. I picture little houses by the water, new businesses, new chapters, and a life that feels peaceful again. I really do try.

But I don’t know why I’m so deeply attached to that farm. From the very first moment I drove up that lane, it felt like home. I had been running for a very long time, and somehow that place made my nervous system exhale. It felt like I had finally found where I belonged.

Then I noticed the blue civic number (2801)

My grandmother’s birthday.

She died in childbirth at just 38 years old. My mom helped raise the newborn baby, her own little siste while she herself was pregnant with my oldest sister. She was only 18. It’s a story that has always stayed with me.

Seeing that number felt like the first little wink from the universe. A coincidence, maybe. A synchronicity. Whatever you choose to call it, it made me pause. And over the years, there were many more moments like that. So when people tell me to just let it go, I wish it were that simple.

I am trying.

But it’s hard to untangle yourself from a place where you poured your heart, your time, your dreams, and so much of your identity. I planted flowers there, birthed my daughter and raised my children and my animaIs I cared for that land the way you care for something you believe you’ll grow old with. Eventually, the dynamic changed, and the farm didn’t feel like mine anymore.

That part hurts.

I’ve been to two mortgage brokers. Both told me the same thing, simply don’t earn enough to buy it on my own without a co signer even though I pay more monthly here than the cost of the farm monthly.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering, if my mom and dad were still here, would they have helped me?

But I still wonder if they would have wanted to help keep that farm in our family for Noah and River. I always imagined that one day it would become theirs. Not because I expected them to become farmers, but because I loved the idea of handing them a place with roots. A place that held stories. Maybe that’s where all of this comes from.

My grandparents owned the general store and post office in Jasper, Ontario. My dad built and owned Jones Fuels. My mom owned Carolanne’s He and She Hair Salon in Smiths Falls.

I come from a long line of people who built things. People who took chances and people who created businesses with their own hands. Maybe that’s why I always need a little project on the go. Ive realized it’s not really about staying busy, it’s aabout creating.

Building something from nothing is woven into who I am. It connects me to the people who came before me. So yes, I’m moving forward. But moving forward doesn’t always mean forgetting. And I’m having a hard time with it again.

Love Kelly Mae

08/02/2026

Aww fb memories 🩷