Can I show you guys something? — Last spring, my friend Carly emailed me in a flurry of exclamation points: Style collaboration. We’re thinking scarf. Tassels! Monochromatic! You design it. Ethically made, of course. Want to come to India? Meet the makers? Send it out with CAUSEBOX this winter? Life offers no shortage of surprises,
A journal entry from months ago: April 30th, 12:04am. The laptop glows in our darkened kitchen and I hear only muffled sounds – small swells of laughter from the basement as Ken hosts a late-night birthday party for friends, Bernie re-positioning underneath my chair into the shape of a question mark, the dining room clock
When you get hacked on a Sunday morning, the Sunday of the week you’re officially announcing your book to your own little world, you feel a bit ill. I’m working to fix it, but for now, steer clear of my Twitter page, OK? I’ll meet you here (or here) instead. For fun, while I wait
I was talking to a girlfriend (hey hey, Voxer) last week about email discipline, specifically the art of not “checking in” throughout the day. It’s a slippery slope: you hop on your phone to peek at the weather, and then you find yourself “checking in” on Instagram, Twitter, your email account. You click on that
I’m still here. (Thank you for your kindness.) Still here with the scooping of formula, the rocking, the swaddling, the diaper-changing. The apple slicing for Bee, the tying of shoes, the playing of Uno. These hands haven’t made their way to a keyboard in a long while, and for that, I’m uncharacteristically content. But I
What did I do in India? you ask. A whole lot of unlearning. — The short of it is this: I traveled to Jaipur with my incredible friend Carly at Tribe Alive to check in on a design project with the fine folks at CAUSEBOX. (More on that front, obv.) The long of it is
When it’s late summer and the heat has passed, you find yourself deflating the pool floaties and moving the sunscreen to the back shelf of the medicine cabinet. You wash and fold swimsuits, beach towels; find storage for that massive sun hat. Sprinkler to the attic. You get to work. You meet deadlines, schedule meetings,
What have we been up to, you ask? This. Becoming grown-ups, of both the 4-year-old variety and the 34-year-old one. Trying not to yell at each other. Eating sweet potatoes and kale. Vet appointments, Squinkie towers, reading lessons. Nothing and everything. — Our days have been syrup slow, stretching and sticking into a clump of