Summertime
I am trying to resurrect my seasonal newsletter. This month’s issue is about summer’s slow ripening, and features a recipe for cherry clafoutis, and thoughts
In search of silence
I have always loved silence. I am an only child who spent a lot of time at home alone. We’ll unpack the “why” of why
a word, please, about kitchens
We need to talk. About kitchens, and my obsession about them as the single most important room in a house. The kitchen is the pulse
ode to screen doors
There are some sounds that snap me back to childhood summers. The music from a passing ice cream truck. The song we used to play
ode to the front porch
It’s fashionable among urbanites to look upon the suburbs with disdain. Big city apologists snub their noses at two-car garages, lawns and expanses of empty
The energy of a place
When I am old and gray I want to have a house by the sea. And paint. With a lot of wonderful chums, good music,
a city awakening
I wake up like an old fluorescent light bulb hanging in a barn — a long, slow flicker until I reach full power. My best
our relationship to our spaces
I’ve always felt that a home is way more than our physical surroundings. It is more than a place to store your stuff and take
Gather friends and feed them
The following are words of wisdom from the writer Nora Ephron, quoted in this lovely article in The Atlantic on The Three Rules for Middle
Bury the dead. Feed the living.
On the morning of 1 November 1755, Lisbon suffered a massive earthquake that residents could feel as far away as North Africa. Seismologists today estimate the