Although I am not a big fan of the color yellow, this summer’s optimism has got me taking a second look. I acquired a couple of rough looking furniture pieces recently.
I’d like to start a series of highlighting some of my favorite things around my home. I hope that it might inspire you to see beauty in the old, to re-imagine what you already have or find, to motivate you to make your home more beautiful, and to show you how to do it rather inexpensively.
Being a parent means the window seat will never be yours again.
The Streets Are Alive I’ve pushed myself further still. I got to this street yesterday evening which seemed just a step too far, or, should I say, a street too far? I’ve come to feel that streets have personalities. They have moods. This is a neighborhood built in the 1970s; these streets are not empty
The clouds sit heavily under the hidden sky. The past two days have been on and off rain, sometimes a downpour, sometimes a drizzle. There have been few precious hours of dryness. It is, after all, the rainy season. Yesterday, Saturday, I missed my opportunity for a morning bike ride and I was bummed. Thankfully,
I want to scream. I’m standing in the kitchen next to my mom who’s fixing me a plate. She’s taking forever, as usual
I’m starting to believe that every hobby in the world is interesting. If I can just understand it, and the reasons behind it, I will find it interesting. I say this with such confidence because I’ve been proved wrong too often to ignore. Here is a short list of some of the activities that I
Saturday It starts with the announcement that my favorite bookstore is having it’s $2 sale. Every book, no matter how old and beautiful or how new and shiny, is on sale. Comfortable shoes. Check. My two children. Check. My life’s savings. Check. As you’d expect, we spend a good deal of time browsing the shelves
So, everyday since my post the other night, I have been bike riding around my neighborhood. In fact, that’s what I’m doing now. I just wanted to get down my impressions of the night before I forgot, so instead of passing my house I ran inside and grabbed my computer. Started typing. I’ll head back
There’s a part of me that likes to see a high number in my drafts folder. There’s something soothing about not having to start from scratch. Knowing that something is needing you in order to feel whole, quite frankly, feels good. You therapists out there can analyze me if you like.