I can’t wait to show you guys! Getting sooo close.
House update: We’ve been fleeing the scene most days this week, escaping various handymen in the house. Big reveals planned for next week! Stay tuned. Also, we await the verdict on the flooded laundry room. The one with brand new, very expensive plumbing? Yeah, that one.
I love Barry Lopez — his wisdom sails above downtown, I was pleased to see. (I interviewed him once. I cried and it was totally embarrassing and he was so nice about it and signed my book.)
You’re making your story every day. Trust it. Unfold it. Tell it. Don’t forget to look up now and then.
Happy Friday, everybody.
I’ve never felt this way about a house before. Comfort. Nest. Nourish. Place. Those words come to mind.
There are doves in the back yard. Last night after dinner, the kid looked out the window at the slanting sunlight and cried, “It’s the magic hour!” In seconds, she’d pulled on her coat. I could watch her running across the grass from my kitchen window. Finally.
This morning, I cried. In a blink, over the growling of the coffee grinder, I went from sleep-bleary to weeping. Everything felt like a mess. Boxes. Dirty dishes in the beautiful, new sink. I have no idea where my saucepans are.
Those old, mean words, my harsh companions: always, never, why, won’t.
So I took a walk through the rooms and looked around. The key to this phase, I think, is making breathing space in small corners. Then let the breathing space grow. Give it time. Box by box. Switch plate by washer hookup by shelf bracket.
Ed. note: We’re all moved in and moving through our first day at the new house. So happy. Little visions of the future in every corner. No backsplash or range hood, no dining room light, no idea where the towels or forks are. But it’s home. Here’s a post I prepped for this week – a recipe appropriately named for the moment, below. Enjoy! ;)
I imagine it was a Christmas gift from a well-meaning aunt. A forgotten wedding gift, stuck in the back of the linen closet until long after the marriage ended, well past the time for party fondue or chicken for two.
Until we found it (truly, in the back of the linen closet). Barring any ugly research findings on vintage Teflon’s (?) effect on food, we might put it to work. It’s mint condition, never used, as evidenced by the cord still neatly coiled inside, the instruction manual intact, the metal rack shiny as the day it was born.
Please enjoy a serving of Chicken Booyah.