Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday

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Monday

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Tuesday

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Wednesday

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Thursday

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Friday

This spring, we’ve had the most strawberries we’ve ever had. It’s both a blessing and a curse; there’s a strange, sick game of keep-it-up with the berries that feels a lot like trying to do magic with a broken wand (Ron Weasley reference? Anyone?). Every day I find berries that have tucked themselves down into the dark damp centers of the plants, beneath the straw. Berries that I had just the day before lifted and placed onto nice dry straw. How is this happening?! 

Well, they’re growing and shifting constantly, daily, hourly. Those berries that make their way down to the wet soil ruin themselves with mold, slugs, and snails so fast it’s infuriating. For each big handful of berries I salvaged each day, another handful was tossed away into the compost (or the yard, let’s be honest, the yard). If I had to do it all over again, I would have planted these strawberry plants along the tops of a high row and covered the earth with burlap right up to the hilt of the plant. But hindsight…

A couple of weeks ago, a good neighbor friend hung out and chatted with me in our back yard while I worked in the garden and our kiddos played together. How do you know how to do all this? she asked, nodding toward the garden and my filthy hands. I have no idea, I had replied. I guess I just grew up doing it? 

And that’s half true. But much of it just comes from doing it. Year after year, figuring it out as I go along. Doing what seems like the right thing to do. I mess up all the time. I miss pests that I should have anticipated. I plant in the wrong places. I find an entire carrot patch growing behind a tomato plant that I did not plant (my boys must have dumped a while packet of seeds there!). I make so many mistakes in the garden, it’s hilarious. But I also learn from them. Year after year, I’m figuring it out.

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But this place is my happy place. It’s where I can calm my mind, feel the breeze, hear the hawks calling overhead, nibble mint, parsley, and baby kale as I work. It’s the place I feel most centered and connected. I spend hours in the garden without if feeling like 10 minutes have passed. I may not know just what I’m doing all the time, but this place is my place.

So, sorry strawberries.

House Tour: Living Room

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Here is our living room — the place we gather to read and relax. It has taken us awhile to properly finish this room because it is an oddly-shaped room, quite long and difficult to figure out! We used to have some gaudy 90’s-style stained glass windows on either side of the mantle, which made it difficult to hang art next to. Once we replaced them with regular 9-pane windows, we chose a piece of art that we both loved (an Ed Freeman print). Choosing art was not easy, as apparently Andrew and I have very different taste in art! I wanted a painting, he wanted something less textured, so we finally agreed that a photograph was the way to go.

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I love the colors in this print — they bring out the blues of the couch and our deep blue dining room, and also compliment the pinks of the pottery and pillows we have lying around.

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The console table holds blocks and Pokemon cards on the bottom, prettier items and photography on the top.

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It took so many years to come to terms with our space! We were all trying to squeeze onto one beautiful antique couch (which I loved, but became terribly uncomfortable over the years). We finally ordered one we would all fit onto. Having the space for all of us to sprawl out together has made such a huge difference! Plus, the back and arms of this couch are wide enough (and sturdy enough) for the boys to lie down on. Milo often reads along the long edge under the windows, and there’s still room for everyone to sit under him!

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Andrew chose some artwork from the amazing tattoo artists who did his floral chest piece. I think it fits beautifully in our living room!

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Pillowcase came from Turkey. I found it on Etsy. The Mongolian sheep fur pillow behind that is extraordinarily soft and plush. It’s nice to cuddle up with when it’s cold out!

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My friend Elisha gave me the above hanging globe planter for my last birthday. I had a beautiful air plant in it, but we don’t get enough light in our living room, so it did not make it. I decided to try some of these vines instead, which can handle little light. They seem to like it there, as they have grown quite a bit over the past few weeks! DSC_0056

On the console table, we have a collection of found wood from various trips, plus our fun “come hither” hand, a gift from Andrew’s brother Billy. It makes me smile every time I see it.

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The vintage wooden oval mirror I snagged at a local antique shop is one focal point of the room. I have always been searching for one, and finally found it for a real steal. I love the delicate carvings along the top.

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Fresh flowers make a huge difference, and we almost always have some flowers or greenery in here. My friend Maggie dropped by and brought me these beautiful peonies from her garden. They cheer up the whole room, and I love how the pink looks with our navy couch!DSC_0011DSC_0021

This fiddle leaf fig plant is only making a temporary appearance during the summertime. I had just given it a shower before moving it downstairs (yes, a literal shower, in the tub). I will move it outside onto our front porch for a month or so before it becomes too hot, then it will go back upstairs where the light is best.

Lighting in this room is immensely important; though we have west-facing windows and south-facing windows, the south-facing side is met with a large overhang for our front porch, meaning a lot of that lovely light is blocked. Our living room can become quite dark during the winter and on rainy days. I found this large arc floor lamp to arch up and over the back corner of our couch and I love it. It provides a warm, bright light perfect for reading (the drum shade has a bottom to it which helps diffuse the light gently).

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And there you have it! Have a wonderful weekend. I’m so excited to have my boys home for the summer with me. Bring on the adventures!

Mother

SallyMann"FallingChild"

The exhaustion pours from her in waves; I can feel them wash over me just watching her move. Her body, impossibly thin, propelled forward as though the grass is deep, dry sand. Honey. Molasses. Quicksand. Each footstep a visible effort — she walks across the school grounds as though she were tackling her 73rd mile, a chubby, cherub-cheeked baby balanced on her bony hip. A sigh leaves her. I can see it but not hear it.

Everything about this pulls me to her, my heart is cracked wide open like a wound I risk exposing to open air. It is like this every day, a product of motherhood, no doubt, a product of being open and feeling it all — all the wonder and sadness of the world, all of the beauty and vulnerability and fear from loving someone with all your might and setting him, setting them, out into this world…

I fight the urge to gently pull the heavy baby from her arms, take the load, give her a place to sit in the shade of the giant old oak that looms overhead. I want to make it easier, tell her I’m here. We are not close, it would be strange, the moment passes. She walks on.

photo credit: Sally Mann, Falling Child, 1989