Married Traditions

Mostly I go to this coffee shop called Shenandoah Joe when I'm in a coffee shop sort of mood. It's my favorite cafe in Charlottesville. I come here to write, to meet friends, and when I just need to get out of the house. It's where I am writing today.

But sometimes I go to this other coffee shop which is a little less funky and a little more buttoned up. Think chairs and tables and laptops instead of vintage sofas and bespectacled customers reading paperbacks. I've gone to this other coffee shop several times in the past few months, both times on a Sunday (once because I was in the area and once because Shenandoah Joe is closed on Sundays). It's a nice, solid backup cafe. 

On the first Sunday there was this sweet middle-aged couple sitting at a table in the middle of the cafe drinking coffee and playing cards. The woman had this completely contented look on her face as she shuffled the deck. She wasn't wearing makeup and he had on an old sweatshirt and I remember thinking they looked so comfortable with each other and so happy to be sharing their Sunday afternoon over coffee and cards. It made me smile. 

The next Sunday I was there, so were they. Drinking coffee and playing their card game at the same table in the center of the cafe. I pointed them out to the friend I was with and said I'd seen them before. It seemed to be their Sunday afternoon ritual.

We gazed over at them for a minute and my newly married friend said that she had been thinking about traditions in marriage and that she'd like to start some with her husband. I said I thought that was a wonderful thing to do. But I added that some of the best traditions my husband and I share aren't the ones we thought out or intentionally planned but the ones that just were, that are. The ones that are a natural byproduct of who we are individually and together.

One of my favorites is our nightly routine. I'm a major early bird and my husband loves to stay up until the wee hours of the morning. If he came to bed with me he'd toss and turn for hours and if I came to bed with him I would become a zombie in a matter of days. Our compromise is that he "puts me to bed," as we call it--ha! Sounds funny but we think it's sweet and special. We will snuggle together and chat about our days in the dark as I get sleepy and he makes sure I have a glass of water and that my phone is charging on my nightstand before he tiptoes out. 

If I had to bet I'd say that the coffee-drinking card-playing couple didn't decide this would be their Sunday afternoon tradition. I bet they did it once or twice and it stuck and now it's as natural and established a part of their week together as Monday night Downton Abbey or Tuesday night tacos.

To me, this naturalness is as beautiful as the tradition itself. It reminds me that in its simplest form, a marriage is a shared life. A life in which you don't have to leave the warm bed to get your own glass of water and are never wanting for a Sunday afternoon card partner.

Banning Busy

busy

I'm sure you've heard of the campaign to ban the word "bossy," right? I don't have hugely strong opinions on this movement as I was never called "bossy" as a child and was actually the exact opposite of bossy most of the time. I was the spindly little girl frozen to her mom's leg avoiding eye contact. But that's another story altogether. What I wanted to write about was a different "b" word that I recently declared would henceforth be banned in our home: busy.

I didn't really mean to take a two-week break from writing this blog but it happened because I was preoccupied. Preoccupied with my work, preoccupied with a lovely girls getaway with my mom, preoccupied with trip planning for Japan. I had other things going on that took center stage and I wasn't feeling particularly inspired to write and that's how it happened. I refuse to say that I was too busy. (Cringe.)

You see, I think that the word "busy" has lost its meaning. The truth is that we all have full lives. Even if we're not busy in the traditional sense--taking 5-minute showers and gulping down coffee and eating chopped salads on the go and sprinting from meeting to meeting--we're all busy in our own ways. Perhaps today's calendar isn't full but there are looming pressures or self-imposed deadlines. Maybe an emotional problem is consuming you and your brain is filled with thoughts that tug and don't let go. Maybe your attention is tied up with a big life change and you schedule in deep breaths and prayer in your free time. Maybe you really are running between meetings.

We could all claim busyness and we do, including me. But I'm calling myself out on it. As the daughter of a writer/editor I was taught from a young age that overused words and expressions quickly lose their value, and I for one don't want to be a user of empty meaningless words.

One of the worst things (I think) is when the "busy" card is used to explain away an unanswered text message or email. We live in the age of easy communication--it's never been simpler or more user-friendly to stay in touch, to craft a quick response to a friend or family member who asks a question or writes just to say hello. I can understand being too busy to send a letter in the mail but I refuse to believe that anyone is too busy to send a text! (They don't even require proper punctuation!)

All of this said, I try to be understanding when I am presented with the "b" word which for me mostly happens in my piano studio. A lot of my students are adults with jobs and families and are studying music purely for the joy it brings them, which is a rare and wonderful thing. I feel privileged to have these kinds of students and when they tell me they've been too busy to practice as much as they'd like I tell them it's ok and that we can sightread duets or listen to recordings or talk about music theory or work on scales.

It's not that I don't hold them to high musical standards because I do. But I'm a reasonable person and I recognize that having a two-year old and a husband and a full time job can be demanding. When musical enrichment, not Carnegie Hall, is the goal, I believe it's my job to be kind and to teach something valuable every single lesson, regardless of how much time was spent at the piano during the week. (My younger students don't get off quite so easily but amazingly, all of them do practice without me having to prod them.) (Prod I will if that ever changes.)

So what do you say--will you ban busy with me? If for nothing else than to sharpen our usage of the English language. Say you've been preoccupied! Active! Engrossed in the pleasures and demands of your life!

Anything but busy.

(And please, let's not say any of these things as an excuse for not replying to a text. Everyone has time to at least shoot off an emoji.)

The Tea I Drink With Him

I just read the most beautiful tribute to marriage, Madeleine L'Engle's Two-Part Invention. Have you read it? L'Engle is probably most known for A Wrinkle in Time but I think her non-fiction writing is just exquisite. She brings the most honest, simple yet sublime insights into relationships, faith, art, the human condition.

Two-Part Invention got me thinking about those little things we do in marriage that can give us so much pleasure if we let them. In our house, I'm the hot drinks-drinker. I've gone through coffee phases but my main standby in the morning is strong black tea made from loose leaves and with a good splash of cream on top. I also have been known to drink a cup of jasmine green tea in the afternoon. And ever since I got a milk frother as a gift from my parents I love making steamed milk with cinnamon and sugar, often as an after-dinner treat.

But my husband, for the longest time, resisted the hot drinks habit (even in college?!) and so for the first part of our marriage I would always make a lonely pot of tea for one. A pot of tea for one can be nice, but a pot of tea for two is better. There's something sophisticated and cozy about starting the morning together with two steaming mugs--at the breakfast table during the week and in bed on the weekends, outside on the porch on mild summer days.

I don't know what eventually wore him down but I'm thinking it might have been my irresistible ability to produce a mean cup of Earl Grey. I got him to try it and he was hooked. It's still not an every morning thing for him as it is for me but on those mornings when I ask and he says, yes, he will take some tea, I find such pleasure in making it for him, brewing it to the right strength and adding a quarter inch of cream and letting it cool a bit the way he likes it.

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread.

This is the poem Madeleine L'Engle's husband read to her when he asked her to marry him and from what I can tell, the spirit of it infused their whole marriage. Making tea for my husband is a small thing, tiny even. But I think Conrad Aiken had it right. The tea I drink with him is more than tea. 

What a gift to live our lives together in this way, don't you think?

Homemade Christmas

Unsurprisingly, I like to decorate for Christmas the same way I like to decorate the rest of the time--simply, putting hand-me-downs to good use, re-purposing in creative ways, making instead of buying when I can.

For me, this is the most wholesome and refreshing and in-the-spirit way to approach Christmas. I've been very conscious this year, perhaps more so than in other years, of keeping my focus on Jesus, of nurturing peace in my heart and in my home, and making this most special holiday simple, lovely, and joyful.

As I look around our home the words "Homemade Christmas" jump into my mind. My brothers and I were raised on gluing together our own ornaments, baking and frosting warm sugar cookies, stockings that were sewn by Grandma. And I suppose I've now adapted that homemade spirit for adulthood.

Instead of purchasing an expensive garland for our mantel, we asked for the discarded evergreen trimmings we saw in a pile at a local Christmas tree farm. From those I had more than enough to fill our mantel and transform my fall wreath into a wintery one. I found some holly (holly look-alike maybe?) in our yard and stuck a few sprigs on the wreath, and I dotted the mantel greenery with some of the leftovers from this unexpected fall bouquet. I foraged for the red berries during a walk to the park.







Our advent wreath is a little on the makeshift side but I love its simplicity. These greens also came from this bouquet. We arranged them in a rustic circle and set out four white votives and a larger Christ candle in the middle.

Everything is so simple and wintery and the only thing we've purchased (other than gifts) is our mini live tree. I felt so content and peaceful as I unwrapped things we already had and found a place for them in our new home, as I snipped berries from the tree outside our window, as I positioned baby Jesus and Mary in the place of honor on the mantel.

So while it's certainly nice to have the traditional pink or purple Advent candles, I don't think Jesus minds that we've chosen to honor him with plain white votives instead. After all, Christmas isn't about acquiring things and it isn't about perfection. It's about love and joy and celebration and family and it's about a heart-bursting kind of hope.

In that spirit, a Homemade Christmas sounds just right to me.

Sweet Things

I didn't really mean to take such a big blogging break this week. Yikes! I had a bit of a funk going on early this week but it's turning out to have a sweet ending. So let's talk about sweet things....

Grandma's china (my wedding gift from her) gracing our Thanksgiving table in the prettiest possible way.

Our house filled up with my whole family. So. much. fun.

My Dad telling me I'm a calm and natural host (i.e. the best compliment, right?).

Tears from a sweet, sweet piano student who forgot one of her books--if only we were all so conscientious! (And the grateful smile from the dad that followed when I was able to cheer up his little gal.)

The ending of this book, which left me in awe of the goodness and bravery exhibited by so many early believers.

A holiday concert with a friend on the agenda for tonight.

Fun ideas for Christmas gifts buzzing around in my brain.

A certain sister-in-law who always knows what to say and how to say it and who loves her family fiercely. 

Being in our anniversary month. December is magical for me for so many reasons. 

An ever so kind Instagram comment from a reader who said she's been missing my writing. This post is for you, friend. :)

Oh and this, my new lock screen. It helps me remember what's most important in life. (From the She Reads Truth app.)

Have a great weekend, everyone! See you next week.

Homemade Virginia Applesauce

I grew up in apple country which means that the kids in my family were basically raised on apples. When we lived in Ithaca a trip to the Cornell Orchards was an almost daily thing (or at least it felt that way, we were there so often). I remember so clearly the huge barrels filled with just-made cider, pulling the lever and watching it travel down the clear tubes, foamy and fresh, filling a tiny paper cup with freezing cold, tangy juice.

Many of my most vivid childhood memories involve apples actually. I can close my eyes and picture exactly the way my Mom would slice apples for us. Quick and precise, she'd hold the apple in her hand and expertly cut it in half, slice and core the chunks, and that was what we ate all. the. time. There's this hilarious note I wrote as a kid that my parents saved and in it I asked my Mom for a treat if we behaved well, and I wrote, "But not an apple please?"

My brothers and I loved apples, but evidently we sometimes got sick of them.

As a result of all of this I have extremely high apple standards. I'm picky about crispness, I like them tart but not sour, just barely sweet. The ones we've been able to find in orchards this fall have been pretty good, for the most part, but we've also had a batch or two that were a little on the mealy side. We bought a basket of apples on Sunday when we were driving home from a wedding and to make room for them in the fridge, I decided to turn the rejects from the last bushel into a big batch of applesauce.

I've mentioned before that my parents gave us a ton of awesome hand-me-downs when we moved, and now that you know my family's proclivity toward apples you won't be surprised to know that a food mill was one of the things they passed on. This one is probably 20 years old and has made many a batch of applesauce. 

This was my first time using it though and I was so impressed. This tool is sort of magical. All I had to do was quarter a bunch of apples, boil them in just a bit of water, and once they turned mushy the food mill did all of the work. Not only does it separate the apple flesh from the skins and seeds and core but it also turns the cooked apples into this silky, perfect sauce. All at the same time. 

My favorite way to eat fresh, homemade applesauce is warm right after it's made. It's so incredibly delicious, like apple pie filling. (I should say that I didn't add any sugar to this sauce because the apples were naturally very sweet.) For an extra festive, warming flavor, you can sprinkle cinnamon on top. I also love eating it alongside plain Greek yogurt. (Another vivid childhood memory: my Mom spooning scoops of homemade applesauce and plain yogurt into my baby brother's ravenous mouth. It was his favorite thing.)

Homemade applesauce is one of those nostalgic, feel-good foods for me. I'll get in trouble with my Dad if I don't say that my Virginia applesauce isn't as good as the New York applesauce I was raised on. But between you and me, it's pretty darn close. 

Hand-Me-Downs From Mom

We're big on hand-me-downs in my family. I would say that more than half of what my husband and I own came from somebody else who used it first--parents, grandparents, friends, strangers (you know me and my thrift shops). I've never, as long as I can remember, resented hand-me-downs in the stereotypical way. I would even say I prefer them.

I'm sandwiched in between two brothers so as a kid I never had an older sister to bequeath me with all of her too-small clothes, but my mom always found a way to get me hand-me-downs despite this. I remember bags of clothes being dropped off by friends of the family who had slightly older girls, and this was always the most exciting thing. It helped that a lot of the clothes were totally stylish (my favorite were Gap hand-me-downs) and I loved sorting through everything and finding things I liked. It felt so special, like a big bag of presents had magically landed on my bedroom floor and it wasn't even Christmas or my birthday.

That feeling stuck with me and I remember a few years ago giving some tops and sweaters I no longer wore to a girl I babysat in New York. She didn't have any sisters either and her smile as she looked at the clothes and tried things on lit up the room. 

This tradition has carried me long into adulthood and some of my favorite things are hand-me-downs from my mom, things that she wore when she was my age. This Irish wool sweater is the warmest, most comforting sweater I own. My mom got it in the Aran Islands off the coast of Ireland when she was about 20 and wore it a ton throughout her 20s. It's still in the most beautiful shape and so classic--the warm beige wool, the knitted design, the leather cognac-colored buttons. I love getting it out each fall and winter (which I didn't do at all in Alabama, so I've missed it) and I love its comforting and meaningful history.

These adorable black leather mary janes were also my mom's and also from Ireland. They were handmade by a cobbler in Cork and my parents got them on a trip to Ireland when my brother and I were babies. My mom must have worn these a ton because I have the most vivid memories of her in them. When I wear them now, even the way they sound when I walk sometimes flashes me right back to my childhood. It's pretty amazing. The soles were quite worn so recently I took them to a cobbler and they put on new half-soles. The rest of the shoe is in pristine shape and I'm pretty sure they'll last long enough for me to pass them on to my daughter someday.

(Don't you just love that soft, crinkly aged leather?! I've always said it--old leather beats new leather every time.)

I just happened to be wearing both of these special heirlooms yesterday and I had my husband snap a photo so I could share these stories. Because what we wear really does tell a story and how wonderful is it to slip on a pair of shoes your mom wore when you were just a baby, or cozy up in a sweater that kept her warm on countless days? There's so much history wrapped up in these treasures and I'm a lucky gal to have them.

Thanks, Mom. :)

Pretty Dried Things

I'm not much of a seasonal decorator. I prefer to mark the shift from summer to fall with things like thicker comforters, extra cups of hot tea, glowy candles on the coffee table while I read, chili and cheese quesadillas, wool sweaters and my favorite pair of red leather boots.

But a few days ago as I enjoyed a crisp walk around the neighborhood, I was inspired by all of the cozy little changes I noticed on front stoops and in windowsills of the houses on and around our block. Plus nature herself was in absolutely lovely form, showing off orange berries on deep green bushes and golden leaves that danced through the air.

Homemade Pizza with Prosciutto, Arugula, and Caramelized Onions

My parents are on vacation out west and on the phone yesterday, my mom was telling me about this incredibly delicious prosciutto and arugula salad they'd had the night before. It was chilled and dressed in a lemony vinaigrette and my mom said it was delightful. 

It must have made an impact on me because I found myself later that day in the grocery store shopping for the supplies to make a homemade prosciutto and arugula pizza for dinner. (Except I forgot the prosciutto. The multitude of mozzarella choices distracted me. My husband saved the day and bought some on his way home.)

City Living

Phew! It feels like ages since I sat down to write. I arrived back home on Monday and the weekend in New York was really wonderful. I thought I'd type out some of the trip's highlights...

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The food. We ate some delicious food. Zucchini fritters with tzatziki sauce from a favorite Greek place. The best donut I've ever eaten--a light, and fluffy vanilla bean glazed exterior with a tart, homemade blackberry jam filling. Mussels and frites and haricots verts from my beloved French restaurant in my old neighborhood. Slices of plain cheese pizza from the best pizzeria in NYC. Grilled polenta with mushrooms from my sister-in-law's favorite restaurant in the West Village. A decadent treat I used to sometimes get back in my city days--Hungarian coffee (coffee with almond extract, whipped cream, and cinnamon) from the Hungarian Pastry Shop.

Everything was so yummy.

***

My brother and I went to one of the most awe-inspiring art exhibits I've ever seen. It's hard to explain really. Hanging from the ceiling of St. John the Divine Cathedral are two, 100-foot long sculptures made from debris the artist found at construction sites. One is a male phoenix and the other is a female phoenix and they are breathtakingly beautiful. This is modern art done extremely well and it would be worth a trip to NYC to see them before the exhibit is taken down.

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Meeting my brother's girlfriend was very fun. We all had a lovely meal together and it was great to finally meet her after hearing lots of bits and pieces about her from my brother. She's so sweet!

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Lots of gabbing and girl talk with my sister-in-law. I'm so thankful for her! She truly is the sister I never had and our conversations about life and love and family are so good for my soul.

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I got to go to Redeemer with my brother! Sadly, Tim Keller preached at the early service so we didn't get to hear him, but the service was very moving and rewarding all the same. The music was especially beautiful and whenever I go to Redeemer I always feel such sincerity and liveliness among the congregation. It's a very special church and we left refreshed.

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On Friday afternoon I had a total urge to play frisbee (college campuses on cool, fall days will do that to me) so we hunted around for awhile until we found one in a tiny, packed-to-the-gills hardware store near Columbia. It was actually really funny. The shopkeeper didn't know what a "frisbee" was so we described it as "a flying disc"...."you play catch with it?" He knowingly smiled and said "ahh" before climbing up on a ladder to reach a very, very high shelf, from which he pulled down a dusty, orange frisbee wrapped in cellophane. We payed $5 for it and walked to Morningside Park, as if this were a perfectly normal way to acquire a frisbee. It was all very weird and satisfying.



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The best part was time spent with two of my favorite people. I loved being back in "my" city, I loved smelling the familiar smells and getting around on the subway and ordering pricey coffee from cute cafes. But mostly it was so wonderful to see my brother and my sister-in-law in their home environments. I feel terrifically happy to be living on the East Coast again and nearer to the people I love!

My Favorite City

In a week from today I'm jumping on a train and heading up to...New York!!!

I'll be there for about four days visiting both my brother, who goes to school there, and my sister-in-law (two of my favorite people in the world!). I'm so very excited.

After college I lived in New York for two and a half years. I know that isn't a very long time but in those few years this city made such an imprint on my heart. I love New York. By the time I left I was ready, and of course there were crazy things about my life there (the great lengths you must go to for groceries!) that I wouldn't want to have to deal with again.

Good For The Soul

We had one of those good-for-the-soul weekends.

We met new people. We tapped our feet while listening to a local a capella group. We picked Mom and Dad up at the train station.

I played some Schubert, we heard some (wonderful) Beethoven.

We roasted a chicken, sampled Virginia sparkling cider, prayed in church.

I shopped with Mama, we drank lots of mugs of tea, we gulped in cool September air.

I locked my keys in the car. (Not good for the soul.)

I was rescued by a combination of Dad, Uber, and USAA Roadside Assistance. Mostly Dad. And he was repaid with more sparkling cider.

We told stories, we joked, we spit out our words during a rousing round of Catch Phrase.

I went to bed tired and thankful. Thankful that our new lives in our new home have plenty of room in them for weekends like this.

p.s. Also good for the soul--painting furniture. The above dresser is in our attic and I'm thinking of painting it in Miss Mustard Seed's "Grain Sack" and updating the hardware. What do you think?

House Tour: Living Room

Our living room is the beating heart of our petite little home. It's a fairly large room that you walk into as soon as you enter the front door. It's a lounging space, a writing area, an entryway, a waiting room for students and parents, a library, and a hangout/conversation space for guests and visitors. We love this room and its many purposes and the great light it gets (hard to tell from my photos, but it's been an overcast few days) and its overall comfort and coziness.

One thing that I'll mention only because it's something a lot of guests have noticed: there's no TV in this room or anywhere else in the Harvey household! A little known fact about me (on Something Ivory anyway) is that I grew up without a TV. My parents are not extremists and I had a very normal childhood, they just decided that they wanted to raise their kids sans TV and believed strongly that it was a healthier way for us to grow up.

As a result I've never had any interest in having a TV. Interestingly enough, while my husband did grow up with a TV he's never had one of his own in his adult life either, not in college or afterward when living by himself. We use our computers to watch shows and even have an awesome projector screen setup in our basement for movie nights. So while it might seem weird to some, we've both arrived at our TV-less state in a very natural and organic way and we never even needed to have much of a conversation about it (by that I mean that I didn't have to convince him of anything or lead him over to my side of the tracks). We both believe that our home is healthier and more wholesome without a TV, and our computers provide all the digital entertainment we need (thanks, Netflix!).

Because we didn't have to design around a TV we were able to put this room together in a way that really encourages conversation, intimacy, connection. We're lucky enough to have two couches and putting them opposite each other makes for a great chatting setup when friends, family, or potential students of mine come over. I love having our books displayed and within easy reach in the corner, and of course you know how I feel about my writing nook.

There are so many stories to the things in this room, so many personal and familiar elements and it would take far too long to talk about them all. Suffice it to say that everywhere I look in here I'm reminded of a family member, a friend, a memory, a fun project, a specific moment in our lives, a funny story, a loving gesture. This room makes me happy.

  

(As much as I love it I do have two small wishes for our living room: a working fireplace and white walls!)

Thanks for letting me share. What's your favorite element of your main living space?

House Tour: Bedroom

If I had three words to describe my ideal bedroom I would choose simple, luxurious, and calming. Simple because sleep and rest come easiest in uncluttered spaces. Luxurious because I learned early on that good sheets and down comforters last forever, never go out of style, and are worth the extra expense for the coziness they provide. Calming because we all need a safe haven in our home, a place to bring a cup of tea and a book on dreary Saturday afternoons, a place to get ready for the day in peace.

Living Room Gallery

At long last, I wanted to share some photos of the gallery wall in our living room. It took a lot of plotting and arranging and re-arranging to get it just right but we really wanted to make sure we loved the design before committing to it. And love it we do! I'm also happy to say that everything on this wall was something we already had, including all of the frames.

We're On The Map

I guess I'm still not quite used to living in a place that's "on the map," so to speak. I still think of Charlottesville as a hidden gem, a near-perfect combination of small town and bustling city, a place most people wouldn't necessarily think to live in but almost anybody would want to live in, if they only knew how awesome it is. Does that make sense?

So when I saw this Design Sponge post on things to do in Charlottesville I was surprised/excited in the way you'd be surprised/excited to see your name show up in the local paper. Other people--hip Brooklynites no less--know about/care about/have interest in Charlottesville?! I know that this viewpoint doesn't make sense because it's a college town, it's quite a good-sized little city, it's only 2.5 hours from D.C., it's become a huge destination wedding locale, the Blue Ridge Mountains are a big draw, and Dave Matthews is from here. People know about Charlottesville, Kate!

I suppose you could say I'm the opposite of jaded when it comes to our new town. I'm pretty proud of it, and it makes me proud that Design Sponge thinks CVille is worthy of its pages.

Anyway, I'm slowly coming up with my own list of "must do" things in the area and my brother's visit last week was a great chance to explore. One of the highlights was a trip to Castle Hill Cider. The drive alone, through fields and cow pastures and mountains and old estates, was worth it, and it was fascinating to learn about the cider-making process and we enjoyed our walk around the beautiful grounds. (These shots were captured by my brother, obviously!)

New Studio Website

Hi friends! I've been missing this blog over the last few days but I've had a great excuse for not writing: my little brother was visiting! He left this morning on the train to D.C., and while his visit felt too short it was oh so sweet. We had tons of fun and it was a blast having him here and showing him around our new town.

Becoming Un-Stuck

We've been in Charlottesville for just about two months now. When family members and friends ask how we like it, it's not an exaggeration to say that in so very many ways, living here has been one enormous upgrade. And it's made me think--would I have noticed all of these small but really, pretty huge, luxuries and beauties and wonders had I not spent two years struggling to find my way in a place that never felt like home, a place far from everything I knew and that I never really cared for?

Friday Musings

I had the best afternoon yesterday. Without saying too much (there will be a post coming on it next week) I spent about three hours cleaning, measuring, cutting, and assembling copper pipes. And then turned them into something I'm awfully proud of. As far as DIYs go it was a first for me, and it might be my favorite project yet.

*

I taught my first piano student this week! Hooray! It was a fantastic first lesson with a very interesting student and I feel so lucky to be able to do this job that I love. First lessons are a little nerve-wracking for me--it feels a bit intimidating to let strangers into your home, have them sit at your piano, and proceed to talk for 30 or 60 minutes about one of your deepest passions. It's a vulnerable business I'm in and anonymity and privacy aren't really available. But that's one of the reasons it's so rewarding. I ended the lesson really believing I'd passed on something valuable and important and enriching.

DIY Yellow Lamp Update

Remember this DIY lamp makeover I did for my parents last year? Well, happily, that cheery yellow lamp now lives with us!

My parents no longer had a need for it on their houseboat, and by that I mean that my Dad asserted his veto rights on the grounds that the lamp is mustard yellow. Totally a fair critique--mustard yellow is a color that appeals to a fairly limited audience. It's coming back into fashion but it's still a little too reminiscent of the 70s for some. Luckily for my Dad, he has a daughter who was more than willing to step up to the plate and take this not-to-his-taste lamp off his hands. Anything mustard yellow will always find a friend in me.

It's now sitting on this little hexagon side table and it's one of the first things you see when you walk in our door. I love how the angular shape of the lamp base and shade mirror the geometric lines of the table. And the yellow pulls peeking out get me every time--I think they're so sweet.

Life here isn't as exciting as life on a houseboat but we hope the lamp doesn't mind. It's such a sunny addition to our living room and we sure are happy to have it!