In this questionnaire, so so so many of you asked that I share a list of the sites and blogs everyone else recommended. And so, in the spirit of spreading the love and shedding a spotlight on some well-known friends, here’s an unofficial list for you: 10 blogs you love to love. (Fun fact: I’ve
Our conversation has taken a sharp turn to privilege. She is quoting Eleanor Roosevelt to me – I am familiar, I say – and she is twirling her locks in one hand, cupping an Americano in the other. She tells me that her daughter has gone off to college. A small liberal arts school out
Dear friends: If you’ve visited this space before, you’ll know I’m in Year 12 of professional blogging. A decade of hitting publish, hovering over delete, googling the correct usage of “past” and “passed” (still can’t nail it). Twelve years. This makes me an Internet teenager, and can I be frank here? I’m feeling it. I’ve
I’m a sauce girl, through and through. Take me to a fancy restaurant and I’m oft-tempted to order the kids’ chicken fingers as a means of tasting every condiment imaginable. Chipotle mayo? Extra, please. Your pumpkin ketchup? Yes a million. Aioli anything? 100%. Thus, marinades. I don’t use marinades as marinades in that I don’t
Bee is both collector and crafter, wildly imaginative and unsurprisingly resourceful (sounds not at all familiar). Her desk lives in Ken’s office, and often, the pair can be found whiling away the afternoon in tandem, fully immersed in their own respective projects. In Bee’s world, Q-tips become fishing rods. Pom-poms become hedgehogs. To say nothing
I was never much of an outdoor kid. Once, I was gifted a Little Mermaid tent for which to encourage many-an-adventure in the grassy terrain, but instead, I opted to pitch it right over my bed to cozy up in my floral comforter with a dogeared copy of Matilda. (Bless those parents of mine.) Even
Bee and Ken took a quick trip to Florida last week, and upon returning, I asked her what her favorite part of the trip was. The mid-day ocean frolics? The spotting of a sand dollar? Sunsets with Grandma? The airplane snacks! she says with certainty before launching into a full-on recitation of the contents/flavors/exactness of
I’ve got a soft spot in my soul for new mothers, the first-time kind. The bewildered, shaky, anxious-ridden variety who keep one vigilant eye on the clock (when did the baby last feed?) and one distracted eye on the conversation at hand (sorry, what was that?). The ones who fear the nail clippers. The ones
