Have you ever gotten lost…

…but not really lost? I mean, you know, generally, where you are–but you don’t know exactly where you are. And you don’t know how to get where it is you want to go. Somehow, in the last 6 months, I seem to have lost my way. I have worked hard, and blogged hard, and parented(…)

Or: Why pickles are as important as poems

Or: Why pickles are as important as poems

This week my FB feed has been hopping with reactions to Akin. I rarely get directly political there (and never here on this blog), but even I joined in on that commentary. While few topics will get me to engage in political discourse on FB, rape is one that will. My feed was also hopping(…)

Painting our front door Progress, not perfection

I need a 12-step meeting for perfectionists. “I’m Rita, and I have a compulsive need to do everything perfectly.” If I had such a meeting, I’d have a sponsor who would have helped me see that painting the front door as I’ve chosen to paint it is my version of crack. And she would have(…)

Our mini-staycation And some design inspiration from McMenamin's Edgefield Manor

Cane and I are not big travelers. We both hate airports. We hate packing. We hate sitting still in small seats with nothing to do. No travel this summer was no problem, as we wanted to dedicate ourselves to finishing (hah!) our two big on-going projects. If you’ve been following along with us this summer,(…)

A case against “updating”: My grandparents' well-preserved 1940s bungalow

Last week, on a trip visiting family, I realized that sometimes, “home” can be a house we’ve never actually lived in. Although I’ve never lived in my grandmother’s house, it is home to me. I have more than 40 years of memories stored within its walls. It is a place I have always felt welcomed,(…)

Happy Anniversary! Looking back at our first year in our new home

It’s been one year this week since Cane, our kids, and I moved together into the house that’s become our home. Time is always such a slippery thing. It feels as if the year has flown by—as if the time since then has moved so quickly—but when I think back to individual moments, they feel far(…)