Friends, I’m absolutely giddy! Can’t wait to tell you about the treasure I hauled home from our Wyoming trip this summer. If you’ve read my post “Decorating with Memories,” you know I’m passionate about infusing my home with artifacts that hold special memories of people and places I love. Well, I just added the crown jewel! Our Wyoming road trip…
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The Homestead Door
Finding Wesley Bloom
I’ve been down the rabbit hole for weeks. This year I set a goal to begin digitizing my mother’s photo albums and creating family history books for my grandchildren. More than just a family tree with names and dates, I want my grandchildren to really KNOW their ancestors — how they lived, what they accomplished, where they failed, what they…
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Heart of Texas
A place I have never lived somehow feels like home. Halfway between Houston and San Antonio lies a land suspended in time. It’s a land where wild vines wend relentlessly up trees and fence posts, soon to hang heavy with Mustang grapes. Where cattle slowly dodge mesquite and cactus, tails swishing, to find shade beneath the low branches of a…
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Decorating with Memories
Everyday items add charm and warmth to any room when they connect to your story. | My home decorating philosophy is simple — I surround myself with personal artifacts that evoke memories of people and times I cherish. These artifacts have little or no monetary value, but they are priceless to me. They connect me to my roots. Come on,…
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Black Tuesday: 7 Sustaining Truths
These seven truths helped me survive a life detour. | If you live long enough, you’re bound to have at least one or two “what-the-heck-just-happened” life detours. You’re humming along, minding your own business, when something suddenly and permanently changes your course. It happened to me on Sept 8, 2015, a day I call Black Tuesday. My recovery from Black…
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On Holiness
Do you remember your first encounter with God? I do. There must have been a priest, of course, and solemn words, but I was trying to get the standing, sitting, kneeling drill right. When we were sitting, I carefully smoothed the skirt of the dress my mother had made for me. If I scootched forward in the pew just a…
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