stinky mornings.

i realize that some of you are currently debating the mental health of a woman so utterly enamored by her lackluster breakfasts, but i can't help myself. and besides, i think i might be letting you in on a secret that you don't know.

i eat stinky cheese for breakfast.

if james and i enjoy a triple-crème after dinner, you can bet your bottom dollar i will be sneaking downstairs in the morning to smear the remainders on a slice of toasty baguette. long before i ever set foot in france, my french godmother would make me stinky tartines for breakfast and i've been hooked ever since.

anyone else?

other things:
our favorite stinky cheese shop.
if thinking about tartines has gotten you wanderlusty, head here.

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the dumpster project.

this fantastic project caught my eye on a sunday stroll. the dumpster project: an archive of objects from one man's life, each catalogued with a story. couldn't be more up my alley. read more about the project here. and if you're in the neighborhood, take a peek yourself.

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a hard roll with butter.

i get it. it's just a roll. a white flour roll smothered in butter that's more than a few steps removed from the farm {i'm being generous here}where it was made. but to me, it's perfect. all wrapped up in that white paper, the feeling of the roll in my hand at 27 is the same as it was when i was 6. the anticipation of its chewy, salty perfection. it's a regional thing, i'm pretty sure. and for me at least, a special treat. the same now as then, only now rather than my dad placing the order and handing the package down from the height of the deli counter, i waltz in myself and order. a hard roll with butter, please and thank you.

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one hanson place

it's a funny habit: snapping pictures of beautiful things in faraway places and neglecting the spaces right under our noses. i used to be better about it, but lately i've gotten out of the habit. hoping having weekends off will change all that. in the meantime, a few photos of the old stones i found lovely at one hanson place, home of the brooklyn flea.

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office board & old souvenirs

we took a stroll through the met this weekend and stumbled upon these paintings in the new american wing. i'm sure i don't have to explain my love for them to all of you. you know it's true. and yes, it's worth the trip to the museum to see the real deal.

planning to find myself some pink ribbon and recreate my very own. i'm not very good at pinning things in a virtual space, anyhow.

paintings by John F. Peto (1854–1907).
images courtesy of the metropolitan museum of art.

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friday.

it's the end of my first workweek at home, and most importantly, the first friday in nine months when i have an entire weekend without work to look forward to.

i'm already jonesing for something drenched in maple syrup and a slow stroll through a museum. on sunday, james is treating me to my very first massage. two words: hot stone.

i'm as happy as a clam. whatever that means.

other things:
an exhibit.
a brunch spot.
i guess i need this.

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a job well done.

on valentine's day, while i was out, james ventured to our local florist and handpicked the blooms that would go into a sweet bouquet just for me.

full stop.

now, i don't mean to sound ungrateful for past flowery surprises, but suffice to say, we've have come a long way from the day of gerbera daisies in plastic straws. impressive, no?

also, james would like you all to know he did not pick out the dark purple sweet peas. apparently the florist went rogue with those guys.

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linzer hearts

yesterday, my friend carrie came over to make cookies. we filled the tiny space between these four walls with the smell of so much butter and sugar it was almost stifling. almost.

wishing each of you the happiest valentine's day. i hope you're all wearing red and eating sweet treats.

other things:
the cookie recipe {we made a few changes, but stuck mostly to it}.
inter-stellar space love {best between min 1:32-6:46}.

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deep dish and big news.

pizza last night to celebrate a pretty big change around here. a little bit more than a month ago i decided to leave my position on the farm, and saturday was my last day there. i'm gonna miss those pigs {and lots of other friendly faces}, but mostly i'm over the moon to be doing something that feels right for me. i'm ready for something new and giving myself a little bit of time to figure it out.

in the meantime, i'm hoping to be in this space a lot more; working on my storytelling and picture snapping. i hope you're all up for the adventure. and if you hear of anyone in search of a tea-leaf reader, send them my way.

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tiny, notes.

these tiny envelopes reminded my mom of last year's valentine's project, so she slipped them into a gift for me at christmas. i've been waiting for the perfect moment to use them and with valentine's day around the corner, i thought i'd test them out.

scoping out spots around this place where he's likely to notice something so, very tiny.

i think i found a few.

yes.

other things:
holes of happiness.
a valentine's flower shop.
red field notes. watch this.

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red hook.

there is this to know: all walks to the sea are not equal. in one place reaching the sea means scrambling over wooden wharfs and down along craggy rocks, skinning the bottoms of your bare feet on barnacles. in another place it means crossing a highway, wending your way down concrete sidewalks, past hollowed-out factories and quiet ports until the asphalt gives way to cobblestones and you know that you're on to something good. different, maybe, but good, still.

for me these walks to the sea have been a life-long habit. when there hasn't been the sea, there have been rivers and in those places the way the sun glints off the water has been enough to set things right.

on tuesday, my walk was to red hook, brooklyn. on that walk it was the air, mostly, that let me know i was close. that perfect glow of salty sunlight that only the sea can produce. along the way there was a dear friend and at the end of it, a brooklyn brew and the setting sun.

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