Photo by Harry Cunningham on Unsplash
Mostly I’m happy for it. We just seeded our yard and it’s a perfect excuse to binge my latest: every Saturday Night Live bit I can find. I’m craving the laughs.
Between bouts of laughter, I look out my window. Bits of grass poke out here and there—it’s nearly to the point where there’s as much grass as there is mud pit. Nearly.
Photo by Phillip Lublasser on Unsplash
Before the rain started this morning, the birds were out in force. A group of 12 turkey vultures live in the trees next door, a pair of striking red birds flew into our maple tree carrying curly twigs in their beaks, and I can hear the hoots of the great horned owl nearby.
Photo by Caroline Ebinger on Unsplash
Signs of spring all around—including an increasing urge I have to eat outside, that is, once the rain dries up. It may be my Canadian upbringing, the second it warms, even slightly, I’m ready for outdoor dining. And I must say, I’m especially hopeful that this spring brings time together with my friends and family. I miss them. I’m already imagining the meals together.
Photo by Kate Hliznitsova on Unsplash
I see it now: grilling, kids playing in the (not so muddy) yard, rosé, friends, family, table set just so with a gorgeously simple linen tablecloth, our signature terracotta and white oxide dishes by Jinks and Grey, with il Buco Vita glasses. (All of which will soon be available to buy at the hōm market, when we open our doors in Hastings on Hudson, NY.)
the hōm market's signature dining set by Jinks & Grey
Simple. Elegant. Easy. That’s what I crave most: ease. Just to be together without worry. To gather. I tear up at the imagining of it, that gathering together is more a hope than a given these days. Something the pandemic has given us that I hope we remember to hold onto, is that nothing should be taken for granted. Not even the simplicity of our togetherness. It’s all sacred time that we hope to share again, soon.
Until then, stay cozy at hōm—Sandra