Vignette: short, impressionistic scenes.

I thought I'd take you around my place...

print via dearcolleen, Ikea frame

bar set: gift from wedding

whiskey glases: crate and barrel via sister-in-law, Julie

toasts book: gift via taddy porter

citrus press: thrifted

ice crusher: thrifted

birdcage: gift via sister, Teresa

bowl: thrifted and repainted white

tea towel: willliams/sonoma, gift via cousin, Erin

citrus: Trader Joe's

out the kitchen window

vase: repurposed Bulleit Bourbon bottle

flowers: mini calas via Trader Joe's

owl wind chime: gift via taddyporter

my very first tomato!
plant gifted via the saint


checking in on the zook.
also gifted via the saint


another one coming in!

The other day, while routinely examining my humble garden, I lifted this:

Oh how the fruits of my labor have paid off.

Grow Zucchini Grow!!!

I know winter has not finished his snail-speed course.

But that doesn't mean I cannot take advantage of you,

tempt you with my skirts,

hide from you my sultry stare with a tip of purple velvet,

and flirt right back.

This last week, I had some thought that simply would not stop harassing me.  They were just the kind of thoughts that annoy most, you know, the ones you thought were totally done with you.  All through my morning coffee, poached eggs, and prepping my menu for the week, I couldn't shake it.

I listened to these thoughts.

Some nagging news precipitated these musings which sent me reeling into a past that I had distanced myself from.  A past which carried the old familiar news of me being a shitty friend and distant female.  The news was nothing really shocking or surprising in and of itself...but it sent the stinging reminder to my soul that I no longer had a friend that I once had.

It's been a while since the first thing that came to mind when I screwed up or disliked my actions was a message of self-loathing.  Half of the pain from the week was the realization that mizz nasty still lurks somewhere down in those murky places my soul has yet to reveal to the light.  I hated myself with vehemence for a past version of me that I couldn't control.

So I sat at my desk.  Lighted a candle to help me find something sacred there and I wrote.  I threw down page after page of all the things you are never supposed to say.  It felt good, but wasn't enough.  I looked up and saw the road beckoning me.  I stashed Ariel into my pocket, hastily donned my hat and scarf, and tromped outside.

For some reason, this toying with paradox really helped give me some rest.  We cannot help what has been done, but I do believe we can do it justice by wrestling with it until it screams uncle.  I had to go into the forest because I had to honor that an old friendship with its old issues and old blood was not done with me, nor I with it.  So I jumped right back into the murk of it (one does not easily forget) and though I found absolutely no answers, I saw myself more clearly.

I saw myself more kindly.

I was home.

On Monday morning, perhaps the most commonly dreaded morning in human history, I was awakened at some unnoticed hour by the most gentle rain on my roof, the most fragrant coffee dripping into my carafe, and my husband gently encouraging me to awaken.  As I stumbled out into the living room to sit upon my chair and read my book, I heard that the saint had also turned on NPR for me and poured me my coffee.

I really am reveling in this time, fear not, oh jealous ones.  I am most certainly not used to people envying my life, hell...I even envy my life...this is quite surreal.  However, I must assure you all that I am doing all that I can to absorb it, to live it, to make it everything it could possibly be.  Well, at least I am for today.  Tomorrow, I'll probably get antsy, have an existential crisis, feel lazy, and complain...but that's what the gin's for...

This weekend, the saint and I made it into the city to shop and dine...my life is such a paradox of headed to the mailbox in my pjs and headed to the city in my knee socks. 

Also, look at our most revered visitors last week!! The saint snapped these shots while I was out gallivanting at the illustrious Costco.

I've been kind of waiting for it to go away but since it's lingering, I suppose I shall extract it thus.  This aforementioned it is this gnawing, annoyingly cold-sore-like discontent that keeps distracting me from enjoying my life.  The little bits, the big bits, they both seem to be growing and swirling in the balloon-sized wine glass of my psyche...and the sulfites are giving me a headache.  Ensue rant:

Directions:

Turn left out of driveway,

 Follow the road forever.

My husband said, "Grab your camera and boots.  Let's go explore."
I had no idea he meant explore my very own backyard.

Talk about space to stretch your wings...

I woke one morning this week and rather suddenly felt adjusted to this country life.  I no longer pine daily for Seattle or the pitter-patter of smoking pedestrians in skinny jeans.  I miss my old life, but graduatlly, I feel my colors changing.

Though my feet are cold and wet, my leaved face is brilliant from the nostalgic heat of summer.

You may be curious...what DOES Candace do all day?  Well, around here, we are reading, shooting photographs, cooking EVERY.SINGLE.MEAL (hell, I'm even making my own coffee...how bumpkin is that?! ), sleeping more, listeing to our thoughts, taking country drives, falling into occasional existential crisis, taking hot baths, playing games, seeing friends more, and stopping each other in the kitchen to steal a smooch.  I am writing, scouring craigslist, writing letters, planting succulents, seeing my family more,  and getting damn good at building my own fires.  It's not a bad life, not a bad life at all.

During the saint's lunch breaks, we've been trying to get out and stretch our legs.    Sadly, Missy Octavia cannot accompany us on these walks....

(just to add insult to injury, this trail is exactly 20 steps from our front door).

{I got a new lipstick, and I thought that instead of being disappointed that no one would actually see how fabulous it was, I would show it off to the trees instead.  They swooned.}