I’m going to try and return the Unstyled Life posts to the format I originally intended: unstyled images of beauty around the house and home with little accompanying text. It started as a way for me to not fret so much about the “work in progress” status of our home. Over time, the posts morphed into essays on life, both serious and frivolous. I will continue to write, I couldn’t possibly stop if I tried, but I won’t do it on Fridays. Right now, my heart says I am pushing myself too hard. Not the way professional working mothers must push themselves, since I bring it on myself as my own commandante. I don’t pretend to shoulder your demands, but I feel a hard shove from behind nonetheless. My hat’s off to you. I need to slow down and think and hear and see without attaching to it a to-do list. I’m doing a wonderful job at creating an intentional home. Now I need to be a little more intentional about how I live within those walls. It is possible to drown in a glass of water.
Yes, that is the new table. I took this from the sofa while I gave Mikey a practice spelling test. I thought the light was pretty, and it was only after I took the picture that I noticed I never put the candlestick back after lunch or shelved my 30 year-old copy of Jane Eyre after finding it the laundry room. I didn’t feel bad about it, either. I closed my eyes and dozed instead, for just a few minutes, before I got up to make dinner.