Welcome, dear friend!

My name is Kaylee, and I wear many hats—Beekeeper, Herbalist, Homemaker, and a gatherer of skills and passions that don’t always fit neatly into one box. And truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I grew up a little feral in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Linden, Virginia—where I drank from the coldest mountain springs and learned to forage pawpaw, mushrooms, wild ginseng, and the herbs that grew along the forest floor. Those hills gave me more than a childhood playground; they rooted in me a deep connection to the land, one that continues to shape everything I do today.

Now, my husband and I have created a multigenerational homestead, a place where our family lives and learns together. On this land we raise livestock, tend our gardens, forage, craft with our hands, make remedies, and cook nourishing meals from the food we grow. It’s a lifestyle that brings the past forward—our children don’t just hear about these traditions, they live them.

This way of life has also shaped the work I share beyond our homestead. The Beekeeper’s Apothecary, my book, was born from quiet hours in the apothecary and the lessons I’ve learned from honey bees about resilience, foundation, and community. I also created Bee Attuned, a mushroom blend that reminds me daily of the beautiful way food and medicine overlap. Both the book and the blend grew from this life of tending, observing, and listening—to bees, to plants, to the stewarding the land.

But I’ll be the first to tell you—this path isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. You don’t need mountains or acres of land to live in a grounded way. You can begin small: one herb, one meal, one seed, one skill at a time. This is not a race—it’s a lifelong gift we’ve been given, to keep learning and keep growing.

Every day, I make it a point to “learn something old”—a practice, remedy, or recipe passed down through generations. That commitment is part of what makes our homestead multigenerational: the wisdom of the past lived out in the present and carried forward into the future. These threads of tradition give strength to new beginnings and remind us that progress doesn’t have to be fast to be meaningful.

That’s what I want to share with you here: encouragement to try, space to learn, and the reminder that you can do this. You can build your own version of a homestead life—whether on acres of farmland or in a small backyard—slowly, intentionally, one step at a time.