Skip to main content


I am a firm believer in Saturdays. Even though my dad often worked on Saturdays when I was a kid, I always thought that they should be special. I have tried my whole life to establish a Saturday Morning Pancake Breakfast Tradition, but no one else has embraced it with my level of enthusiasm or dedication - so when I have any amount of say, I always try to seek out special adventures for myself.

For example, the summer I was in Cleveland for an internship, I made it a point to walk to a Papa John's a few miles away and order a large pizza (which also became my breakfast for the rest of the week...) then get a couple of movies from the video rental store next door while I waited for my pizza, on the Saturdays that I wasn't working (on the Saturdays I did work, I made sure to leave in enough time to stop by the Vine and Bean Cafe for a chai). 

The summer I spent in New York, I would get up early on Saturdays and after a breakfast of pancakes I would explore the city. The Brooklyn botanic garden is free before noon on Saturdays and there is a wonderful farmers market in Grand Army Plaza, and those were both just a few blocks away. Sometimes I would walk down Union Street to a knit shop my roommate had taken me to, or she and I would have adventures together. Anything that couldn't be done on a week day after work (although, some pretty awesome stuff happened then, too) or on a Sunday after church (partly because that's when I did laundry, which was a three hour quest that needed to be finished before dark).

While I'm driven by a thirst for adventure, Adam prefers to answer the siren call of sleeping in. He's up early and working late so much, it's reasonable - so sometimes we three go have Saturday adventures that he wouldn't find particularly enjoyable (I can make getting coffee a production, and relish doing so) so that he can sleep in in peace, without Brooklyn coming in for periodic wellness checks.

Not that he doesn't like adventures - he'd just prefer that they not involve an alarm clock. Since I have two small alarm clocks, neither of which possess a snooze button, I can face my day much more cheerfully if I have some sort of plan for all the extra time I've been gifted.

I have a very broad definition of adventure. This past Saturday, Adam had Drill so we three went to Dempsey Bakery for cookies then swung by Hobby Lobby because I needed elastic to finish a design - and I found a grown-up coloring book while we were there that I gleefully spent part of the afternoon with. Sometimes we hunt down Beast (a paleo food truck with amazing breakfast tacos), visit the zoo or the Museum of Discovery, walk somewhere, or go for a drive. Pretty much anything that isn't staying home or going grocery shopping counts.

Now, I have the utmost respect for the ordinary moment (more on that later), but I also believe that sometimes a celebration should be more than the momentary acknowledgement of grace, sunrises, and a cup of tea. Some days just need be set aside as different - besides, why should birthdays be the only thing worth noting with cupcakes?

Beautiful dwelling is celebrating the small as well as the big - and recognizing that our attention to it is what determines the size of a moment.


Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…