Like most Fridays this summer, I woke up slowly. The sun slowly crept through the windows with the sounds of the world (and my little family) coming to life outside. It’s my favorite thing about mornings – the calm and quiet that permeates the early hours.
But I also woke up really excited. I planned to treat myself to a manicure and pedicure, knock out a few to-dos from our seemingly never-ending list and head to the rehearsal dinner of two of our favorite people at one of my favorite restaurants. And… I was going to make my very first galette.
I can’t say if it’s the crisp cool that has been slowly invading the foggy mornings around here, or if it’s just because fall has been on my mind a lot lately, but it’s definitely something. I can’t put my finger on why, but I have been completely consumed with the idea of baking a galette. (Truth be told, I’ve never even tasted a single bite of a galette, but still, I’ve been hellbent on making one of my own.)
The defining factor of a galette is that it’s a free-form pastry, baked without the stability of a pie pan or tart ring. The dough is rolled out flat, then folded around the filling. But the true appeal of a galette lies in its unsophistication. It can be anything you want, but as long as you’ve used good fruit or vegetables for the filling and real butter for the dough, it will bake up into something golden brown and utterly gorgeous, the kind of pastry you’re excited to whip up anytime.
We’ve almost been homeowners for almost an entire year! I feel so lucky to have our perfect little home with our perfect little family full of pets, but on some level, it also feels kind of crazy. Like, we’re real adults. With a mortgage.
Growing up, my mom had a distinct style in her home. If I had to name it, maybe I’d say it was a mix of rustic Americana and garden-inspired. But no matter where she lived, every square inch oozed with this stylized life that she would breathe into it. There were lots of trinkets filling the space, each with their own story, but it was never overbearing. In fact, it was a space that could make you feel like there was no other place in the entire home for that woven basket than exactly where it was. It was homey and inviting, unique to her personality and clean. Never a fleck of dust anywhere. And it always smelled sweet.
Now that we have a home of our own, my favorite part is the blank canvas I have for decorating and for making it my own, just like my mom always did. And it’s a space that’s completely ours! I’m not renting from a total stranger, or sharing common spaces with roommates. It’s our home, totally and completely. And that’s really freakin’ exciting.
Have you ever watched House Hunters or Fixer Upper or any other house hunting/home renovation show? (Of course you have, let’s be honest.) My favorite thing about these shows, aside from the interior design and my overrated love of shiplap, is the way that these home owners/house hunters walk into this process with a seemingly impossible laundry list of must-haves, and somehow, end up with everything that they wanted.
And yesterday, that’s exactly how I felt about lunch.
Inspiration comes in waves, and for me, a wave has not come crashing down in quite some time. To be fair, we’ve been pretty busy over the past six months — traveling, spending time with friends & family, and ya know, getting engaged and planning a wedding — so my hobbies, my me time, this blog have all fallen to the wayside. And to be honest? That’s totally okay.
Year after year, Valentine’s Day comes and goes, and after 26 years, it still makes me cringe a little bit. I guess I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with this holiday. The part of it that I love? The celebration of love – my love, as well as the love of those around me. The part that I hate? Everything else.
Sports and I don’t really go hand in hand. In high school, I played field hockey and I really enjoyed it. But I was terrible. I also tried my hand at track and field, and even basketball (and gymnastics and figure skating) when I was young. Again, terrible.
If you asked me, I’d tell you that we don’t have a dishwasher. If you asked Skyler, he’d point to me and say, “We sure do!” But the fact remains that we are dishwasher-less. While I certainly don’t mind cleaning our dishes by hand, to minimize the daily mess in our kitchen, I’ve recently been seeking out recipes that will allow me to make flavorful meals, while using as few pots and pans as possible.
Last Friday morning, Skyler’s alarm went off early. I dug deeper under the sheets and curled up tightly into the blankets. I had another hour before I even needed to think about getting out of bed. It’s Friday, finally, a day that I’ve been looking forward to since my alarm went off on Monday morning. I was not in the groove last week. I hadn’t been feeling very well, and despite it being an unseasonably warm week, I had been so chilly. And, just like every other winter, I felt so unenergized and frustrated that I rarely see the light of day. It’s usually dark when I wake up, and the sun is normally setting by the time I leave my mostly window-less office. I get into this funk every winter, it never fails.
Since buying our house, most of our spare time (and spare change) has gone into furnishing, finishing and improving our space. Skyler has been working tirelessly on finishing the basement, which will give us some much-needed additional square footage for entertaining, and I’ve been doing my best to make our house feel like a home and maximize said square footage. Say what you will, but choosing textiles and furniture and decor that will give you a beautiful and well-loved home isn’t as easy as it may seem! (If I see one more Live, Laugh, Love sign while searching for the perfect piece for an empty wall in our kitchen, I might lose my mind.)