It has been a very long time since I was last here. But let's not begin there. Let's begin right here, right now...

I am sitting on the floor in my new bedroom. I am sitting in a slant of light with a cup of creamy espresso and milk. I am looking out the sliding glass doors - a giant flood of glass which lets in the light - blue sky right now and two finches playing. I think I hear a whistle, but perhaps it's just my heart, shocked - not because I have allowed myself the chance to sit down and take pause, but because I have allowed myself the chance to remember my password - to log in - to write. I also dusted off the password to my photo account and uploaded this image I took of Theo this past weekend. December Morning. Or maybe I should title it: (not so simply) Theo, age 9, in love with reading novels, growing up way too fast for my heart to keep up with the beat of his, and what has this country come to, and oh - my heart aches when I think too far ahead these days, and oh....

What this really is, my people, is the start of something new. I am writing and self-publishing a book. I have had this idea for years. Now is the time. Coming here first to settle in felt right...

And let's just kitchen sink this post!

A few things I've been cooking and loving lately:

This soup. My boys love it.

This soup. We couldn't get enough.

This Pinterest board where I'm pinning inspiration for our new home, because I love a good design project (or 20).

And this book.  

Lastly, these words that resonate deeply with me these days.

This too shall pass.
Until then,
fetch wood,
carry water,
walk the earth.





I'm reeling the tape of summer memories backwards in my mind, slowly relishing each note in the now quiet September day. It is very possible that these past few months have been amongst the best of my life. Perhaps it's because the boys are getting older, and with that our day-to-day life is much lighter. I also believe I must note that their current ages: 9 and 7 are so stinking amazing and fun. You know I would push life's pause button, if only. Perhaps it is because my heart has shifted and changed so much this past year. And maybe, and maybe... 

If I'm learning anything it is to stop myself from breaking everything into a million pieces. To say with fine gratitude, it was delicious. All of it was just delicious. That is enough.

A list of reads I devoured and loved this summer:


The I's

I am a wanderer. I have always been. 

I covet being alone, or with a very select few. I always have.

My bones were shaped in the same way shells are made: washed over and over and over by waves and currents and tides. I am at home in the ocean, beneath the water. I surface and lick my lips. The crunch of salt, the brine in my hair, water dripping from my eyelashes is enough and enough and enough. 

If I could twist my wrist and fan out my soul it would be the pale coral of the hibiscus, the heavenly white of the plumeria, the waxy green-brown leaves of the magnolia. And these days there is the sharp-soft outline of the agave, the tease of the cactus's stark beauty. 

If I could grab my spirit and hold on for flight it would be on the wings of the swallowed-tail kite, the soft hollow between the eyes of the hawk, the underbelly of the owl, the grace of the blue heron.

I am a woman of water. I ache for the moon. I am an open road.

fill your lungs up 
with life and
repeat after me:

i am alive

i am alive

i am alive.

It's terribly easy to forget who you are.