I'm not sure if you're ready to hear this, but there are only a few weeks left of summer. I know, technically the season goes well into September, but I'm talking about the flip flop wearing, ponytail donning, grab your favorite t-shirt dress summer. Speaking of, I've been loving the simple frocks this year. The white one I wore to the beach a few weeks ago is from J.Crew and also comes in pink and charcoal. I opted to dress it up for a morning out with fun sneakers and a go-to necklace, but was . . .
Call it fate or just beautiful coincidence, but I love that In Her Company is launching on National Girlfriends Day, though a space designed to build meaningful and lasting relationships among women didn’t need a national day to begin. Over the past year, my friendships have become lifelines. Maybe it was having another baby and feeling entirely vulnerable and unsettled (y’all, the OB said I was "advanced maternal age"), or choosing to step away from a career trajectory I had long planned in . . .
For the first decade or so of our marriage, my husband and I didn't have a designated vacation spot. Oh, we love to travel, but just couldn't seem to find one place that fit us. In the Army and as a contractor, Graham has seen a handful of deployments, and often, after he'd come home from a tour, we'd treat ourselves to an adventure: Italy, Brussels, a Caribbean cruise, The Farmhouse Inn in Sonoma. As our family grew, these long-distance trips became less conceivable, and, thankfully, Graham's . . .
Last month, a friend and I attended a lavender workshop at Pharsalia, an 1814 plantation in the foothills of Blue Ridge Mountains, near Roseland, Virginia. We explored the grounds for a while then sat down under century-old magnolia trees to learn more about growth and uses for one of my favorite plants. After taking home a bunch of lavender and drying it upside down in my kitchen window for a few weeks, I decided it was time to put it to good use. One thing I learned from our . . .
I've been camping twice in my life which is at least one time too many. Honestly, I love the idea but not the reality. Roasting marshmallows around the campfire and gazing up at the stars with your children really means repeatedly wiping sticky hands with baby wipes, managing sugar highs two hours after bedtime, and going to your (blowup) bed smelling like a bonfire. And that's after your children sneak into your tent because they "can't sleep." Hmm. Might have been the 14 marshmallows you . . .