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Some days it is hard to see the importance of cleaning up the blocks for the tenth time or kneeling on the kitchen tile cleaning up Puffs, leaking blueberries and smashed up string cheese for the fifth time, but then the mailman brings my copy of Seeing the Everyday and I open it up and I read this:

"The home is the place where our names are first uttered with love and therefore where we first discover that we mean something. It is the site where both human beings and human values first make their appearance in the world. It is the center from which we define and understand the nature of everything we encounter in the world." (by David Patterson)

This is why every choice we make matters. This is why I am home.

picking up the pace

{written may 30}

I see the irony here, being such a proponent of slowing down but there are times when it is time to simply slap it in the *%@.

Today is one of those days. Okay, May 30th was actually one of those days and now it is over two months later and if I don't start now, I may never.

I have been waiting. Waiting for the right blog name and the right image. Waiting for the time to go back and write: about giving birth at home or learning the difference between pain and suffering, about what the first 4 weeks of parenthood are really like, about all the magical and mind blowing things that happen on a daily basis, about the boredom that sets in mid-day when you have had no other adult human contact.

But as I sit and wait for the time to write about what has already passed, I am missing the opportunity to write about what is happening now. And what I have learned is that writing in the now is juicier to read and more healing to write.

So, today I am picking up the pace and looking ahead. Every so often I will glimpse into the rear view mirror, and perhaps share a bit about what I see there.

2 + 1 = 3

For now, I am writing daily about the first year of motherhood. Everyonce in while I post here about things that make me happy. Be back in April 2010

Come visit me at maus + nugget...

Yes, I think she is great. I do.

And she has done it again - this time with GOOP, a lifestyle site for everything from hotels in Barcelona to adrenal fatigue.

And it's just really fun to read.

I've always wanted to buy an old truck and cross the United States - visiting every possible local flea market that I could find. In preparation for this "trip", I have this pile of magazine clippings about the best flea markets, and instead of keeping more paper, I am just going to start a list here...

Illinois

Kane County Flea Market

Massachuettes

Brimfield Antiques + Collectibles Show

New York

The Antiques Garage

Pennsylvania

Rennigers

Texas

First Monday Trade Days

US Flea Market Directory: A Guide to the Best Flea Markets in All 50 Statesby Albert LaFarge

Pictures from a very old Lucky magazine

It's Sunday morning - the first Sunday of the month and that means the Alameda Flea Market is taking place. All week I was thinking of right now - walking through the stalls, searching for treasures. But yesterday, as the rain was streaming from the heavens and I was cleaning up, I realized how many unfinished "projects" are sitting all around me - the paint chipped dresser, the dresser for baby in the trunk of our car, the box of "needs sewing", unframed artwork. So, instead of adding, which inevitably happens when I go to Alameda, I stayed put. But I am dreaming of the first Sunday of December...

Don't underestimate the power of space that is all your own.

Whether it's a corner altar, a closet or a whole room - find a nook that is yours for inspiration, rejuvenation, introspection or creation.

Perhaps inspired by Virgina Woolf's A Room of One's Own, designer Chris Madden's book showcases the intimate and private spaces of several women and helps to inspire others to create something for themselves. It is part how-to and part beautiful inspiration and is one of my favorite books to encourage authenticity and individuality.

from Organic Style, May 2005 : photos by Robert Lyons

I am always curious how people live. So when I recently re-read this article about a couple living completely sustainably on their self-built floating home, I decided to do some digging.

And sure enough, there is a video on U-tube video about the Freedom Cove Floating House, close to Tofino, Canada.

Catherine and Wayne Adams, the artist couple who built to pink and teal home themselves, grow their own food and live in the quiet serenity of this wilderness.

From Tofino you can take a boat to visit them and see how simply and intentionally one can live.

photo by marisol villaneuva

I have never really paid that much attention to my undergarments, to tell the truth. I am a hige fan of Old Navy cotton panties and do love my Hanky Panky thongs (if you don't know these - find them and you will never by anything else.) But I love this line of organic lovelies from loup charmant.

Perhaps its the styling that is so dreamy and the modern rusticness of it all.

Regardless, I might have to start thinking about lingerie in a whole new way.

Einstein said "Few real problems can be solved with the same consciousness from which they arose."

Where could you use some out of the box thinking?

Eloise at the Plaza, New York taken by me, 1998

There is a picture somewhere of me sitting on that marble and gold leaf table, at age 8, during my first visit to New York. How many 8 year olds who grew up in California know what the Plaza Hotel in New York City is?

"I am Eloise. I am six. I am a city child. I live at the Plaza."

That's how it started. Every time.

On Fridays I usually write about a woman who inspires me, but somehow today I was compelled to talk about a 6 year old who is so firmly rooted in my childhood memories and perhaps even the development of my personality. If you know the story of Eloise and you know, you might be smiling now.

It was before Hollywood made her into a movie princess and before she went off on adventures to Paris and Moscow. It was just Eloise, just at the Plaza. My tattered copy is one of my prized possessions because attached to it is not only the story of this precocious child but the very fond memories of my dad reading every single word to me. And he did it every time. If I close my eyes, I can feel him next to me and almost feel the rhythmic movement of his chest as he read the punctuationless text - in a steady stream, with all the right accents and intonations. I have tried in my adulthood to recreate this but it is impossible.

This post and this little girl and the memories of my dad are even more profound now because I am going to be a mother and I can't imagine how to do this without him.

String, plain and simple

image borrowed from nibsblog.wordpress.com

Creativity doesn't half to cost a lot.

Neither does good design - and if I have any kind of soap box, this is it. So when I see fancy people making beauty with simple every day things, I get excited.

String for example. Have you ever thought of using string for more than tying bundles of newspaper together or making sure that your latest IKEA purchase doesn't fly out of your car? I really hadn't, though I love the organic color and texture of string. So I was excited to see this article in the NY Times about out of the box design with simple and basic materials.

Enjoy the slideshow