This. Every morning, this. I could wake up seventy thousand more times, roll out of bed, scramble to find a mismatched pair of socks, and throw on an oversized, overworn sweatshirt before hobbling out to the thrift store couch (where no less than four little ones will soon find me) and never tire of it.
I’m a work from home Mom. Every stitch of our business is built right from within these walls. Blog posts are created while I’m lying in bed – books are written at my kitchen counter – emails are answered while I’m out in the garden. This life is our work and this cottage is our
I don’t know when it happened. But it happened. And as much as I hate to admit it – well, here I am. Admitting it. Lettin’ it loose. Slippin’ the lips. Confessing to the world… …friends, I’m a coffee snob. I remember back in college, sipping on my pre-ground Folgers, thinkin’ I’d hit the good