The Journal
Stories from the house, a little reflection and absolutely zero expertise. Just a friend thinking out loud.
The room we almost didn’t build
Above the laundry room there’s a loft that very nearly never happened. Now it’s the Lego loft.
Adults are just children waiting for permission
Why there’s a swing hanging in our house. Permission granted.
Remember when this was just dirt?
A field, a whole lot of sky, and a pile of rocks the dog decided was hers.
Let’s bring back showing up
At someone’s house, just because we missed them.
Three of the hardest things for people to say
Three of the hardest things for people to say: 1. I was wrong. 2. I need help. 3. Worcestershire sauce. We’re working on all three over here. Number three is going the worst.
Turn your sound on for this one.
Watch on Instagram
One day, you’ll laugh again
Life is beautiful and sometimes brutiful. If you’re in a brutiful stretch right now, pull up a chair. You don’t have to explain, and you don’t have to be fine. The highlights are never the whole story, here or anywhere.
Pull up a chair.
Every so often I’ll write you a letter. A recipe, a tradition we’re trying, whatever magic (or glorious mess) happened at our table that week. No lectures, nothing salesy, just a friend waving from the porch.
You’re in! Your seat on the porch is saved. Watch your inbox for a letter from Moxhaven.