
The vibration plate I still use after a year
A year later I am still on it every day, usually in socks, and I still cannot call myself a gym person. The machine does not seem to mind.
Finding joy in the everyday
This is where I write down the ordinary parts of our life: the corner I spent three years getting right, the Tuesday nights that saved my marriage, the five things I put on my face, and the shoes that live in the mudroom cabinet.
Real life, real home, real happiness in my 40s. Come sit down.
Lately
The newest things from the journal — mostly written early in the morning, before anyone else is up.

A year later I am still on it every day, usually in socks, and I still cannot call myself a gym person. The machine does not seem to mind.

Rey stood on a chair and watched the chicken brown through the glass. That is the moment I knew I was not going back to a coated basket.

My face could be greasy and peeling at the same time. These are the moisturizers I actually kept using with tretinoin — and the ones I would buy again.

No ten-step ritual, no fridge full of serums. Five things, five minutes, most mornings — and the one I would keep if I could only keep one.
Five things I write about
I don’t keep the parts of my life in separate boxes, so the blog doesn’t either. But if you’d like a place to start, here they are.
8 posts
Rooms that get used, not staged. Slow changes, secondhand finds, and the small things that make a house feel like ours.
3 postsDean is eight, Rey is six, and there is one very loud dog. No advice, just what it actually looks like here.
3 postsThe long middle of a marriage. The unglamorous, steady, funny work of staying close to the same person for a long time.
5 postsWhat I actually put on my face at 44, and the small rituals that keep me feeling like a person.
4 postsGetting dressed for the life I have — school runs, grocery runs, and the occasional dinner out.
2 postsThe unglamorous stuff that actually makes me feel better: sleep, movement, and the habits I keep.
A letter on Sundays
Once a week, on Sunday morning, I send one email: what’s on the table, what I’m reading, what I got wrong, and whatever small thing made me happy. That’s all it is.
No selling, no spam, and you can leave any time — I won’t take it personally.