Sometimes, you need a landing place. A surface nearby to hold what needs holding.

I’m ready to get away. Planned, or not at all, I’m ready to grab my get-away kit (picnic kit, almost-but-not-quite-camping-kit, whatever you’d like to call it), throw my weekender in the car, and hit the road.

A stack of Picardie tumblers. A Bormioli Rocco carafe. Pewter salt & pepper shakers. Clamp-lid jars. A cribbage set. A cot. A wooden bangle bracelet. A shell necklace. Bright yellow Hunter boots. There’s something about finding treasure in the heap.

I woke up on the sofa, the morning light slowly gathering through the windows, the sound of the creek, of birdsong, of another day spilling in.

Loves! I’m waving from here as I gather my bags to depart for more multi-day, multi-stop travel across Montana

At the bend in the creek, the naked dirt bank reached high and steep, topped by a tall fence. Unprotected and vulnerable, the bank’s soft earth was no match for spring’s mad water.

It snowed again last night, but aside from sweeping the porch, I’m not going to do a single thing about it. Because I blinked and it’s past eleven o’clock already, and I just know: this is going to be a where-did-the-day-go day.

Quite simply, it’s hyacinth and grape hyacinth bulbs, jumbled together and forced to life in a tray of watery pebbles. Quite remarkably, it’s an experience that’s changed my life. 

There’s a bank of drawers in the kitchen. Four drawers to keep the flow flowing and the working kitchen working.

It’s near noon on a weekday and I’m in the kitchen making a salad lunch. Tumbled together in the bowl are locally grown greenhouse lettuces, sprouts, a shave of red onion

How deeply thrilling it was for me to have had so many of you join me virtually in our home last night for the first Holiday Table!

It’s snowing today. Flakes are floating, dancing, tumbling through the air as wind gusts catch them.