My Handmade Home

I make a lot of stuff. But this past year as I stepped back from work and suddenly found myself parenting kids rather than toddlers and babies, I’ve made more than ever.

All of a sudden it seems that my home is starting to overflow with handmade and, I’ll be honest, it couldn’t make me happier.

This is exactly what I want for our family home. I want a home filled with objects that are beautiful and imperfect all at the same time.

I want a home filled with objects that remind us of time and stories past.

I want a home that is a true reflection of who we are and how we live.

A home that has character and that evokes emotion.

The bits and pieces of handmade that grace the walls and the shelves and the beds come together to do just that.

They tell stories.

It’s not just a pair of curtains, it’s a pair of curtains that I made with my youngest babe on my back, desperate to keep the light out of our bedroom in hopes that he might sleep just a little bit better.

It’s not just a stack of clothes, but rather the stack of clothes I made for myself as I worked to learn to sew garments.

It’s not just a set of wooden houses, but rather a set that I made with my boys on a rare rainy day in California.

While my home will never win any interior design awards, it makes my heart go pitter pat. And that’s all I need it to do.

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