The truth is, we forgot her birthday. Oh my.

For all my minimalist tendencies, I do get carried away when it comes to fresh flowers in the house in summer.

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.

We found him way down there in the sea of capped and tasseled graduates waiting for the ceremony to begin; waved wildly so he could see us, too.

I open the bin that holds my off season clothes and there lies my summer wardrobe. Hello, old friends. I’ve miss you. Can’t wait to wear you again.

Sleeping with the windows open, waking to the twitter of birds, watching as green slowly colors the land

Tasteful, timeless, quality, always. More/Less is a primer on design choices, because it’s helpful to know where we might spend and how we might save.

It’s been a diary of memories and mental notes, of my grandmother’s gardens, and my mother’s gardens, the gardens of family friends

On the dining table is a large, round, brass and silver dish full of blooming hydrangea and muscari bulbs. On the kitchen counter is a Mason jar with soaked fenugreek seeds inside

Sometimes, the smallest shift can be the key that changes everything.

In the small, quiet bedroom nestled under a seven foot, beaded plank ceiling at the back of the house, there’s a bed on one wall, with nightstands carved out of flanking floor-to-ceiling cabinetry.

It was the color that first caught my eye. A shade somewhere between mustard and honey, it’s the color of the water in high mountain streams, the color of ochre, of kelp…