This House We Have

Every year around this time, I feel the house start to shift. Summer has a way of making everything feel a little looser. The mornings are slower, the windows stay open later, there are usually swimsuits or towels somewhere they shouldn't be, and somehow dinner happens whenever we get around to it. I love that about summer. But then August starts winding down, and I can feel myself wanting a little more structure again. Back-to-school shopping starts. Calendars come out. Bedtimes slowly move earlier. Work starts feeling a little more serious again. There are places to be and things to remember, and suddenly the relaxed rhythm we've had for the past couple of months doesn't quite fit anymore. I'm not ready for summer to be over, but I am ready for our house to feel a little more grounded. I'm Not Decorating for Fall Yet This is probably the part where I'm supposed to tell you to bring out the pumpkins, switch everything to rust and amber, and make your house smel...

​ There is something beautiful about an ordinary day. Not every day needs to be a celebration or filled with plans. Sometimes the days I remember most are the quiet ones. Morning coffee. A favorite song playing in the kitchen. Fresh flowers on the table. Dinner that was made a little more thoughtfully than usual. I don't think making everyday life feel special has to mean spending more money or making everything look perfect. Most of the time, I think it is just about paying attention to the little things that make you feel good. Start with the way your home feels in the morning. Open the curtains and let the light in. Make the bed. Put on some music while you get ready for the day. Even something small can make a familiar morning feel a little different. There is also something to be said for actually using the things you normally save for special occasions. Light the candle you've been keeping in a drawer. Use the pretty glasses on a Tuesday night. Put flowers in the vase in...

There’s a certain feeling that comes with being on Cape Cod in the summer. It’s not just the water or the boats or the little weathered houses along the shore. It’s the feeling that everything has slowed down just a little. Windows are open. Towels are hanging over chairs. There’s sand everywhere. Dinner doesn’t need to be complicated, and nobody seems to mind taking the long way home. That’s what I love about Cape Cod. We spend so much of the year rushing from one thing to the next that summer feels like a pretty good excuse to stop trying to make everything productive. Go sit by the water. Take the scenic road. Buy flowers at a farm stand. Stay outside until the sun goes down. There doesn't always need to be an itinerary. One of the things I always notice around Cape Cod is how much character comes from things simply being old and well-loved. Weathered shingles, faded paint, old boats, buoys hanging from a building, and gardens that look like they’ve been growing there for years....