It’s been nearly two years in the planning and design phase, and in a few short weeks, demo will finally be underway.

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.

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.

Two burly days, heaved with heat, came out of nowhere and broke the back of winter. From knee-deep to bare ground over a handful of following days, the landscape collapsed in a time lapse of melting snow.

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. 

Mostly, it seemed complicated. Daunting. Tedious. Many steps required, in a certain order, over several days. Specific tools, too, must be used. And the terminology? There was a whole new language to be learned. 

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

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

The beach was gray and windswept. The outgoing tide had left the sand soaked and milling about, miniature rivers running

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

I’m still layering on the wool, still walking through knee-deep snow, but my mind is on this summer’s garden