Our Story

Welcome to The Fox and The Ferns at Lizzy Lane Farm Apothecary

Lizzy Lane Farm Apothecary began as a quiet return — to the stillroom, to seasonal work, and to the kind of making that values care over speed.

From our mountain house in New England, we blend powders, dry herbs, and gather stories rooted in domestic tradition and everyday ritual.

This work now continues as The Fox and the Ferns, a smaller mountain house chapter shaped by a more intimate pace. It carries forward the knowledge and care first tended on a larger farm, now distilled into a stillroom where attention is given to fewer things, made with greater intention.

This is a place shaped by weather, gardens, old drawers, and the steady rhythm of handwork.

The Stillroom

The stillroom is both a room and a practice. Here, herbs are dried, powders are milled, scrolls are tied, and labels are tucked into wooden drawers worn smooth by use. The work changes with the seasons, but the intention does not: to make useful, beautiful things meant to be lived with.

The scent of lavender and sage hangs in the air, the labels are made one at a time by hand. Everything begins here.

The Old Arm Chair Perfume bottle with silver cap and botanical elements in a decorative box

What We Make

Our offerings include talc-free dusting powders, herbs, sachets, perfume oils, and seasonal stillroom goods. Each piece is made in small batches, guided by tradition rather than trend, and meant for daily use — tucked into drawers, folded into linens, or kept close at hand.

Nothing here is rushed. Nothing is made without reason. ❧

a peek out the stillroom window, where stained glass and merigold garlands hang along side drying herbs.

How We Work

We work slowly and seasonally. Gardens are tended, herbs are gathered, and each parcel is packed by hand. Vintage pieces carry the marks of their long lives; botanicals are chosen for their character as much as their scent.

This is not a factory. It is a working stillroom.

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Thank you for being here.

This work isn’t shaped by algorithms or urgency, but by care, the turning of the seasons, and the quiet belief that beauty still matters. Whether you’ve been here for years or have only just wandered in, you’re part of the rhythm now.