I use the word becoming because it’s important. Because, as in anything at all, there is no being a better writer. No arriving as a better writer, certainly no tricks to staying a better writer. There is only becoming, both on the page and off.
Blog
Other
Currently
I haven’t written anything in a long stretch. It wasn’t intended, never is, the blinking cursor abandoned for house projects like clean garages and a re-carpeted bedroom. Yesterday, I gave up an attempt to patch a hole in the rubber hose in favor of a water balloon toss. This, the beat of our summer –
Read More
Style + Beauty
Ethical Fashion Q&A
When I lived in L.A., pre-HGTV.com days, I worked as a fashion stylist and production assistant for a series of high-end sample sales. We’d phone our carefully-culled list of independent designers and rescue their leftover garments from end-of-season demise, then rent out a boutique hotel ballroom to display the gathered merchandise over the course of
Read More
Food + Drink
5 New Recipes to Try
You can tell I’m in a cooking rut if you visit my kitchen at 5pm on any given weekday and find us all dining on salami and apples, a handful of walnuts straight from the bag. It’s my unofficial back-up meal, swooping in to save the eve for my other unofficial back-up meal (breakfast for
Read More
Food + Drink
A Color-Changing Slushie
If we’re paying attention long enough, and if our ears are bent low enough, it’s easy to find the magic in summer. The smallest caterpillar gliding effortlessly on the shivering edge of a paper thin leaf. The cool shock of a juicy watermelon, pink swimming down your chin, your elbows, a seed to spit into
Read More
Style + Beauty
6 Summer Basics
The dog days are here. Yesterday, I passed a trio of towheads sitting cross-legged on a grassy front lawn, electric blue popsicles dripping down their chin, elbows, knees. Bikes piled haphazardly in the driveway, garden sprinkler a flurry.
Read More
Travel + Adventure
An Outdoor Guide for the Indoor Mom
My 10-year-old self loved many a summer days – air slick with freedom, elbows slick from cherry popsicles. An entire universe whirling by from the banana seat of my lustrous purple Huffy. Cicada symphonies. Gingham feasts. Chlorinated hair. And then, I grew. From inches higher, the neighborhood creek seemed far less adventurous than the latest
