I would identify as another blogger fixing up an adorable vintage trailer, if only the statement did not require such a flexible definition of “fixing up” that “sitting in the driveway under a… Read More
My kitchen floor is not that dirty. Instagram did that.
This is a phenomenal table. You may not think so the first time you look at it, but let it grow on you.
I spend a lot of time in bed during the day. The little babies, they like to snuggle and not a whole lot else.
That precious, precious time at the end of the week where someone else is around to hold your baby. And with two free hands and the growing menace of unpicked fruit in the yard, you understand what needs to be done.
Yesterday, Tamera got me thinking about jewelry. Not so much the whole drawer of goods, but the stuff you wear so often it hits a bedside dish overnight if it comes off at all.
The hen in question has dutifully adopted the pair but seems to know something is amiss. They don’t quite look, sound or behave like chickens, but she seems resigned to the fact that whatever they are, they’re hers to make the best of.
I don’t know how I ended up where I ended up on Etsy last night, but I’m glad.
Blankets knit from the center out are trying companions: they go lightning fast at first when you have only a handful of stitches in each round, and then slowly increase in size until it takes an hour or worse to finish a single row. Fair warning that during your third trimester, this will seem a cruelly parallel trajectory to the gestational process.