My Story

July 22, 2026

Hello, I’m Karen—and My Compass Has Never Pointed in a Straight Line

Welcome to The Twisted Compass.

I’m Karen—a daughter, sister, wife, momma, auntie, Grammy, Jesus girl, enthusiastic feeder of people, collector of stories, and firm believer that some of the best moments in life happen around a table.

My husband, Mike, and I lead a sweet little life here in Florida. It isn’t particularly fancy, but it is full—and I have learned that full is far better than fancy.

Wherever Our People Are

Although Florida is home and the Keys are where my soul exhales, two of our children live in Minnesota—so our hearts wander north as often as we can.

That means trading sunshine and sandbars for snow-covered woods, heavy coats, and the occasional reminder that Florida has left me completely unprepared for actual winter. 😂

But home has never been only an address.

Home is Mike beside me. It is our children and grandbabies, wherever they happen to be. It is the laughter, meals, stories, and ordinary moments we collect whenever we are together.

The compass may point south toward the water or north toward the snow—but it always leads us back to our people.

Our children are amazing, our grandbabies are life, and our Florida home is happily shared with a cast of furry characters who provide companionship, comedy, and enough material for an entire children’s book.

There is almost always something simmering on the stove, fermenting on the counter, growing in a jar, or being taste-tested by whichever friend or family member happens to walk through the door.

Around here, feeding people is rarely just about the food.

It is how I welcome.

How I care.

How I celebrate.

How I say, “There is a place for you here.”

The Life Behind the Compass

By day, I am the Accreditation Manager for the Martin County Sheriff’s Office. My job is important, highly detailed, extremely busy, and often stressful. It requires rules, standards, deadlines, documentation, inspections, and more moving pieces than anyone would reasonably choose to juggle without coffee.

The Twisted Compass is where my shoulders come down.

It is the place that beats to my own rhythm—a little sing-song, a little earthy, sometimes thoughtful, occasionally ridiculous, and always honest.

My style is mercantile meets industrial: warm wood, black iron, useful things made beautifully, a little history, and nothing so precious that people are afraid to touch it. I love the old ways—the way food, stories, skills, and faith were once passed from one generation to the next—but I also love finding fresh and practical ways to carry those things forward.

I suppose that is what a twisted compass does.

It honors where we have been while helping us find our way home.

My Favorite Kind of Table

I love Blue Zone–inspired cooking and the quiet wisdom found in bowls filled with beans, vegetables, whole grains, herbs, and good olive oil. But I also love food in all its wonderfully varied forms.

Give me the warmth of Mexican food, the bold flavors of Asian and Thai cooking, a rustic Italian meal that is more sauce-and-vegetables than a mountain of pasta, or a dish that tells the story of a place I have never been.

I am fascinated by different cultures—their traditions, their history, and especially the food they gather around.

I want dinner to feel like a little cultural experience without requiring anyone to dress formally, identify six forks, or pronounce every ingredient correctly.

Interesting, yes.

Fussy, no.

I want to learn why a dish matters, where it came from, and how families have made it their own through generations. Then I want to bring that inspiration into my Florida kitchen, put on Jesus Jams, and invite people over to try it.

Preferably with photographic evidence when Mike claims he cannot use chopsticks.

I am also wandering farther down the sourdough trail. Bread has already taught me patience, flexibility, and the importance of watching the dough instead of the clock. Next on my list is exploring sourdough pasta—because apparently keeping a living starter on the counter was not enough excitement for one kitchen.

A Cookbook Dream

For many years, one of my deepest desires has been to write a cookbook.

Not simply a collection of ingredients and instructions, but a book that feels like The Twisted Compass—well loved, useful, beautiful, and filled with stories from the tables, people, and places that inspired the food.

I dream of creating a cookbook with recipes that nourish without taking all the fun out of supper. There will be comforting bowls, food inspired by cultures around the world, sourdough adventures, family favorites, practical substitutions, and plenty of encouragement to make each recipe your own.

But I also want it to hold more than food.

I want it to carry the stories behind the recipes, gentle pieces of faith, room for handwritten notes, and the kind of kitchen wisdom that was once passed down while standing beside someone at the stove.

God willing, I hope that cookbook will someday soon be sitting right here on The Twisted Compass website—ready to find its way into your kitchen and onto your table.

Water on Both Sides

When life gets especially noisy, my heart points south.

The Florida Keys are my safe place. Something inside me settles when the road narrows and I can see water on both sides. The pace changes. I breathe differently. The world feels wide again.

Mike and I love boating, fishing, and those slow sandbar afternoons when the sun is warm, the water is clear, and nobody needs to be anywhere else.

Weekends on the water remind me that peace does not always require silence. Sometimes it sounds like laughter, splashing grandbabies, fishing stories, boat motors, and a cooler lid opening for the hundredth time.

Faith in Small, Tuck-It-in-Your-Pocket Pieces

My faith is not a separate section of my life or this space. It is woven through all of it—but I never want to use it to push someone into a corner.

God gave us free will, and I respect that deeply.

I simply want to leave people with small pieces of Jesus they can tuck into their pockets until they are ready: a little hope, a little truth, a little kindness, a meal delivered at the right time, or a reminder that they are seen and loved.

We all need Jesus eventually. Some of us realize it sooner than others.

I want people to look at my life and think, “She has something I want.”

And I do not mean a Lamborghini.

I don’t have a Lamborghini.

I want them to see a peace that does not make sense on hard days. A joy that survives disappointment. A home where imperfect people are welcome. A table where there is always room to pull up another chair.

If someone encounters Jesus through the way I notice them, love them, feed them, or make room for them, that is enough.

What You’ll Find Here

The Twisted Compass is a home for recipes, stories, devotionals, sourdough adventures, handcrafted goods, old-fashioned skills, apothecary creations, family life, and the occasional bit of beautiful chaos.

You will find food that nourishes without becoming joyless.

Recipes inspired by people and places around the world.

Stories from my kitchen, family, work, and wandering life.

Small, gentle devotionals.

Handcrafted goods made with purpose.

And plenty of reminders that a meaningful life does not need to be perfect, polished, or expensive.

I am also preparing to begin the Find Your Way Home podcast—a place for conversations about faith, food, family, hospitality, hard seasons, ordinary beauty, and the winding roads that bring us back to what matters.

And there is even more gathering around the bend.

I am developing a Twisted Compass subscription for those who want to pull their chairs a little closer to the table. I envision quarterly field journals, subscriber-only recipes and devotionals, insider access to the things being created behind the scenes, early peeks at new collections, and all sorts of thoughtful surprises we have not even dreamed up yet.

I want it to feel less like receiving “content” and more like opening a carefully prepared parcel from a friend—something worth slowing down for, using, writing in, and returning to throughout the season.

This space is for the human who loves their people fiercely but sometimes feel tired.

For the person trying to eat well without making food miserable.

For the imperfect baker, the weary caregiver, the curious cook, the story keeper, and anyone who suspects there must be something sacred hiding inside ordinary life.

There is.

Sometimes we simply have to slow down long enough to notice it.

So come as you are.