Some things are the same, and some things are different. fava harvest towel entourage vintage dresses birth-day cake (as seen here, of course) as close to hands-free… …and as close to sle...
I don’t know how I ended up where I ended up on Etsy last night… …but I’m so glad. I was very tired, and I remember trying to figure out whether the cat or the barbie was for ...
How to make a baby burrito from scratch: 1. Start baby. (not pictured) 2. Find wool. Baby yarn is widely on offer, but don’t forget that proximity to the real stuff instills great virtue at a tender ...
Be curious no more. It has been quiet here, and one possible explanation is that we have new baby turkeys on the premises. They are a notoriously needy little subset of the animal kingdom. Time is co...
Things are a funny way to relate to people, especially in the absense of the people themselves. My little girl is so close now that I find I’m having trouble seeing her beyond the things I have...
Lemons: salted. All I needed was a little encouragement. Now that they’re gorgeous and ready to cook with, tell me what recipe will win hearts and minds and get Bill to stop looking at the jar like i...
If I started knitting this cardigan today… …I’d be finished in July. Maybe August. It’ll be so exactly what I wish to slip into between sunburned afternoons in the garden and ...
I was playing in the baby’s room after work on Thursday, and the clouds broke for five minutes of sunshine before the rain started in again. What with California trying to catch up on a winter&...
16 days before it’s official, but today felt like spring. I wore a sundress. Bill gardened and I roasted the first asparagus of the season, which immediately made me impatient for sweet peas. T...
The citrus genus. Especially the really easy to peel ones that are all over Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s this time of year, because you can rip through five or six of them in under a minute. Disco. P...
These days, I get up at 5am so I can have 45 minutes of time alone sitting at the kitchen table, knitting and wishing I were drinking coffee. Pictures from breakfasts past: There’s no sunrise in my 4...
Me: “Love, is this one still working out okay these days or am I a scandalously patched together pregnant hack?” Him: “I love you very much today.” Pregnant women who never ta...
Maurice Maeterlinck May, 1901 “But what have we to do, some will ask, with the intelligence of the bees? What concern is it of ours whether this be a little less or a little more? I hold, and e...
Apparently someone found these vintage curtains online, bought them, and talked my husband into hanging them in the laundry room. Apparently I did this. It’s clear there are whole periods of my...
Words out of my mouth this morning over breakfast. No joke. Pregnancy is not without its indignities. Some, apparently, just aren’t covered in the pamphlets. ————&# 8211;...
Baby-related imagery has infiltrated my camera roll, throwing off a previously dependable ratio of pets:kitchen:garden. It was difficult, a few months back, for me to picture a future where she’...
2011: winter, spring, summer, and fall. Another wonderful year. ——– Praying mantids, the carnivorous, ham-handed little things, eat what would eat your radishes and apricots and are...
More of the wonderful same around here lately. More pickles: I’m using a recipe by Lisa Krissoff, and there’s no going back. I cannot stop eating them, have given up completely on the tho...
Alternately titled: Thievery, low stakes The honey box was full today, so we masked our faces, distracted our colony with smoke and noise and stole it away. Not pictured: basement uncapping of those ...
We bought our little house three years ago in August. 2008: Today: 50 years from now, even if it’s from the other side of the world, I can’t imagine not thinking of this as one of the bes...
There’s something living in the crawlspace under our house. It’s pickles. Slow-fermenting jars need three weeks of solitude at cool temperatures to reflect properly on their evolution fro...
Today I took 216 pictures. And it was a workday. My hard drive is a house with piles from floor to ceiling. Bill with beer outdoors. Bill with beer indoors. Vegetable progress shots alone would consu...
Ever since moving to my Very First Apartment, I’ve tried at predictable intervals to make my own sourdough starter. It has the nerve to sound so simple: you mix flour and water in a jar, and then twi...
Summer tends to be the time of year when there’s the most to get done, and also the time of year when you feel least like getting out there in the heat and actually doing it. This partic...
The internet has a constant backlog of bizarre and fascinating discarded home artifacts. And here in the land of overly-imaginative home decor, we are nothing if not conscientious about working to re...
For a long time after I first mentioned it, I was really, really, really good. Ice cold calm and controlled good. I may have visited the auction now and then, but always with steely control over base...
To start, a note of caution. It is spring decidedly here– I have green tomatoes and Bill promises the first zucchini will be ready to pick before the weekend is over. There are apricots and run...
I would not move into just any crooked old house. But I would move into this one.
Woe be the rapid-cycle-change young homeowner who dares to googlemap her own house. Because especially if your fixer-upper is located in a sleepy, scrappy corner of suburbia not often traversed by th...
House oldification continues. Another ten light vintage door is salvaged and ours. It’s a slow process– old doors are tricky to install and need to fit the frame pretty exactly. It makes ...
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