Where the Wild Things Are

Last Wednesday, when I picked Hazel up from school, she got in the car and immediately burst into tears.

I had to pick her up right at dismissal time, because Jason was out of town and I had a dinner to cater that evening. Normally we let her stay after school for 30 – 45 minutes to play with her friends, and I thought she was just angry at missing that time.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

The floodgates opened. “Well, Quinn was going to marry a bicycle and I really needed to be there because Rosemary was going to be the priest but she has a hard time keeping her face serious so I was going to be the backup priest and now I’ve missed the whole wedding.” Sniff.

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond – You would’ve made a lovely backup priest? Sorry you missed the fake bonkers wedding? How does one marry a bicycle? In the time it took me to process her tale, she composed herself and pulled out a book.

And then it occurred to me – this is what free play looks like.

I’ve been a parent for almost 20 years, and I can confidently say that no book has impacted my parenting more than The Coddling of the American Mind, by Jonathan Haidt and Greg Lukianoff. Published in 2018, it made me recognize some of the mistakes we made as Jason and I raised our three older kids, and gave me a roadmap to raise Hazel differently. While the book is written about college students, it looks back at the ways in which their phone-based, free-play avoidant childhoods resulted in helpless, safety-obsessed young adults. As I wrote earlier, I have been persuaded that children need more privacy in real life and less privacy online. And the time Hazel spends with her friends, running around the field behind the school, dreaming up frankly ridiculous situations to play-act – that’s free play. It’s not directed or supervised by an adult. It doesn’t come in a monthly subscription box. It is the opposite of orchestrated.

It’s wild, and it’s creative, and it’s completely baffling to adults – as it should be.

I remember being her age, when the whole neighborhood was my kingdom. We tied ropes to our bike handles so they could serve as our noble steeds. We formed clubs, met in the hollow spaces under bushes, set quests for ourselves. We captured crawfish, skinks, and lizards. We skinned our knees, our elbows, our pride.

It wasn’t perfect – we never wore sunscreen or helmets – but it was filled with feral magic.

Just five days after the bicycle wedding, on the day of the eclipse, I again found myself picking Hazel up at dismissal (which occurs just after 3 pm, exactly the time of partial totality here). As the children began to emerge from the building, I noticed that they were walking with their heads down, hands over their brows like visors. They shuffled slowly to the waiting cars, nervously peeking from beneath their fingers to make sure they were headed in the right direction. Hazel told me that school personnel had directed the children to walk like so they wouldn’t accidentally stare directly into the sun.

They looked like superstitious medieval peasants. I wanted to laugh.

Just as the bicycle wedding is a good example of free play, this is an excellent example of safetyism at work. Safetyism is the term used by Haidt and Lukianoff to describe the idea that physical and emotional safety is the most important concern in any situation – no matter how small the actual risk is, and no matter what the tradeoffs are. The adults – teachers and administrators – used the specter of a real-but-rare outcome (eye damage caused by staring at the sun) to scare children into behaving like sheep. In doing so, they replaced the wonder of a once-in-a-generation event with fear of a one-in-a-million injury. Even NPR urged people to chill out.

As I said before, after lots of reading, I am persuaded that giving kids opportunities to be wild is better for them than constant supervision, direction, and management. I am also persuaded that letting kids explore mostly-safe spaces is better than trying to create absolutely-safe fortresses. Your mileage may vary. All kids are different. The vast majority will end up okay.

I have obtained a copy of Haidt’s follow-up book, The Anxious Generation, and look forward to reading it this month.

A Little Nookie.

The first time we looked at our house, I fell in love with the breakfast nook. It was spacious, light-filled, and had a view down to the river.

At the time, it was also full of furniture and wall art – to the point where the view was all but lost.

As you may recall, on the day we bought the house, the ceiling in the breakfast nook fell in. The area was off-limits for many weeks until we could get it repaired. But all the while, I was planning.

My first step was replacing the ceiling fan, which had been damaged by falling plaster, with a big dome pendant. I also picked up a great tulip table on Facebook Marketplace. Since we have so much antique (read: brown) furniture, I thought this sleek version would be like a breath of fresh midcentury air. I also took down the curtains and curtain rod.

While the kitchen work was being done, we removed the thin beadboard panels from the side walls and replaced it with more period-appropriate tongue and groove paneling, which we installed horizontally for funsies. Jason did all the cutting and nailing, and my job was priming, spackling, caulking, and painting. Teamwork!

This wallpaper from Spoonflower caught my eye, but I was not sure I was bold enough to splash out on such a statement pattern. Our wallpaper hanger took us on a field trip to a to-the-trade fabric and wallpaper emporium, where I was completely overwhelmed. After looking through dozens of books, and hundreds of samples, I continued to be drawn to the oranges. Thanks to an end-of-the-year sale, I did get 20% off, which made it slightly less painful. The cost of the wallpaper also informed our decision to add the wainscoting to the lower half of the walls, which cut the project price by about 40%.

Our experience with Spoonflower was not great, to be quite honest. The paper we picked has a large repeat (or drop), and usually in that situation the rolls you purchase alternate between normal and “half drop” so that the pattern matches up with a minimum of waste. Not Spoonflower. Each roll we received started in the same place in the pattern, so to match up the pattern we had to buy almost 30 extra feet of wallpaper. Even at that, the pattern does not match up perfectly – our hanger did her best to match the rolls at eye level, but at the ceiling the pattern is off by more than 1/4 inch. It’s the kind of thing that feels like a big deal at the time but ultimately I’ll stop noticing.

We’d left the top board of the wainscoting off so that the paper could run behind it, so when the papering was finished we installed the final boards and I painted the wood in Sherwin Williams Cucuzza Verde, which I pulled from the wallpaper. Incidentally, the dark green in the paper is almost a perfect match to the green in the foyer, which creates a nice visual through-line between the two spaces.

And here’s the finished product:

It’s so pleasant to be in this room – it’s cheerful and cozy.

And here’s the view from the main part of the kitchen:

We eat breakfast and dinner here almost every day, so it’s a space that gets a lot of use. I realize it looks a little plain, but I want to live with it for a while before layering on anything else. We created a picture ledge at the top of the wainscoting, as I am loathe to punch holes in the brand new wallpaper, so I may add art. I will swap out two of the chairs for a short church pew, and may also add bamboo blinds to the window to make it look more finished, and possibly something in the corners – plant stand? IKEA rolling cart for homework supplies? sculpture? Who knows? Plenty of space to grow into.

To wrap up, here is the space as we first saw it:

And now:

March Lessons

Humility

Hazel doesn’t get sick often, but she was stricken with the flu in March. For a full week, we battled her high fever, lethargy, and sniffles. I keep a few cans of chicken noodle soup on hand for such events, and when I pulled one out (while patting myself on the back for thinking ahead), I noticed that it was expired. Worse, it expired in July 2023 – a month before we packed up our kitchen to move to this house. I moved expired soup. Three cans of it. Now, every time my ego threatens to get inflated, I remind myself that, no matter how smart I seem, I am an expired soup-mover.

Spring Break

We again traveled to New York for Spring Break. Like last year, it was very cold. Unlike last year, I planned a gentle itinerary that focused on indoor activities and was padded with some down time, instead of trying to See All The Things. We visited two museums and saw two shows, with some side quests (Strand Bookstore! Meeting friends! Cooking with my brother! Soup dumplings!) thrown in for fun.

Fort Lauderdale

At the end of our New York trip, I flew to North Carolina to attend a celebration of life, while Jason and Hazel returned to Jacksonville by way of Fort Lauderdale. Or, at least, that was the plan. Their flight out of LaGuardia was delayed by three hours, and their flight from Fort Lauderdale was simply canceled. Funny enough, this is not the first time Jason has found himself being forced to rent a car to drive home from that particular airport. In 2017, Jason was waiting to fly home when there was a mass shooting in the baggage claim area. He had to walk out the back of the airport, across the tarmac and runways, to get away.

I think we are all done with the Fort Lauderdale airport.

Lent

It may sound strange, but I had a really meaningful Lent this year. Our church used the Little Way Chapel’s Family Lent Guide to help children (and adults!) engage more fully with Lenten themes, and it was just lovely. I gave up social media, which was easier than I expected – although I found myself filling down time with Solitaire instead of Instagram. Is that better? Probably. Is it good? Probably not.

ACOTAR

A friend bought the A Court of Thorns and Roses box set, and promptly delivered it to me to read ahead of her (what a pal!). Given the hype, and the genre, I did not expect to be impressed. And yet, as I approached the final third of the first book, I found myself reluctant to put it down. I absolutely love being pulled into a good story, and these books made the rest of the world fade. I was wrong to turn my nose up at the spicy fairy novels, and I look forward to reading the next one.

February Lessons

I love it when a plan comes together.

Last year, I failed to get Hazel’s class Valentines until February 13. It was mortifying and stressful and I absolutely hate being caught flat-footed like that. So I set myself a recurring task for February 1 that says “Order Hazel’s Valentines.” This year, the reminder popped up as scheduled, I created a cute and simple Valentine for her, and we printed and cut them out. No stress, no worry, no last-minute dive into the discount Valentine bin.

Let it go.

I am a fidgety TV watcher, so during football season I like to have something to occupy my hands while I sob at the Jaguars once again breaking my heart. This past season, I embarked on a mid-level cross-stitch project and got roughly halfway through when I realized I’d used the wrong color for a large chunk of it (in my defense, the colors are matched with symbols on the pattern, but there’s nothing to identify which threads are “apricot” versus “light peach” versus “blush”). I hung onto the kit through the playoffs, but finally said farewell.

Night-Night Scroll Time

For Lent, I have given up social media. I am pretty good at avoiding those apps during the day, but found myself increasingly sucked into the pre-bedtime session best described as “night-night scroll time.” I’d hop into bed at 10:00 and suddenly it was 11:30 and I’d found the end of the internet. Now the lights are out by 10:30 and I’m making progress on my reading goals for the year.

The Bone Bag

I have always been a fan of using bone-in meats – I find them to be cheaper and tastier. I also enjoy making my own chicken stock whenever I roast a whole chicken. It finally dawned on me that I didn’t have to wait for a whole chicken – and behold, the Bone Bag was born. Now, every time we have bone-in chicken, the bones go in a bag in the freezer. When the bag is full, it’s time to make stock. As a bonus, whispering “put it in the bone bag” sounds vaguely ominous.

Foy-yeay

My father loved a dramatic entrance. Whether it was him swanning into a party with bon mots and good cheer, or a well-designed foyer, he was all about the first impression.

My parents added on the foyer at my childhood home, which in retrospect seems a bit nutty. Most people would consider that to be useless square footage – but for my father, it was his personal playroom. He put in big double doors, topped with a fan light salvaged from a local restaurant, and added dentil molding and chair rail over the tomato-red paint and checkerboard marble flooring.

Then he filled the room with some of his favorite objects, knowing that the space would largely be untouched by his unruly children.

All of this is to say, none of my subsequent houses has had a foyer so dramatic. They’ve all been functional, and attractive, but ultimately boring.

But the Extremely Extra Foyer is my platonic ideal of foyers, and with this house, I decided to throw caution, and neutrals, to the wind.

Here’s where we started:

The very first thing we did was replace that chandelier, which I sold on Facebook Marketplace to help offset the cost of the new fixture. (OK, so it only minimally offset the cost, but every little bit helps!) I snagged this Death-Star-esque light from Ballard Designs on sale, and up it went.

As I recounted earlier, one of my first DIY adventures in our home was removing the wallpaper from the foyer. Originally I’d flirted with the idea of installing a different, dramatic wallpaper in the space, but ultimately decided against it – I plan to hang paper in the breakfast nook and possibly the dining room, and trying to coordinate all three of those was exhausting.

During the kitchen renovation, the coat closet (above, to the left) was eliminated to make more room for the fridge, so we had to wait to paint until that door was replaced with drywall. I chose Sherwin Williams Vogue Green, from their midcentury collection. It’s a moody, but warm, green.

With the basics covered, it was time to add some finishing touches. I put down a Ruggable rug that lived in the kitchen at our previous house, and found some amazing art at – of all places – REI.

Local artist Kathy Stark created a series of posters for Jacksonville-area state parks and historical sites, in the style of the National Park Service’s WPA-era posters.

I picked three that I’ve visited, and hung them in oversized acrylic float frames.

We’re not completely done with the foyer – the front door needs to be repainted, and there’s a small corner opposite the art that needs attention – but it finally feels like a finished space.

I think my dad would like it.

January Lessons

Adventures in Breakfast

A Dutch baby is easy to make, delicious to eat, and visually stunning. After being completely sucked in to an Instagram series on savory versions of this breakfast dish, I made my very first Dutch baby, topped with sharp white cheddar and some leftover bacon. This got rave reviews from Jason and Hazel.

Old Chicken, New Tricks

Spatchcock chicken has been on my radar for years, but I finally got around to trying it myself. Naturally, I did it incorrectly, cutting out the breastbone instead of the backbone, but whatever. The chicken flopped open and cooked beautifully. I used my 2D chicken to make a Jewish Iraqui dish called T’Beet, which I will 1000% be making again. I probably should have left this under the broiler for another minute, but it tasted absolutely fantastic. The crispy rice crust was amazing.

Caulk ALL THE THINGS

I spackled every nail hole in the kitchen (dear reader, there were lots) and caulked the seams on the wainscoting and baseboards. Unwilling to part with my caulk gun, I decided to re-caulk the tub in the primary bathroom. I fortified myself with coffee and YouTube videos, then got to work. I scraped, picked, and peeled out many feet of old, mildewed grossness. Ew. But now the tub sports a thin, neat, clean line of caulk. Hooray!

Shame. SHAAAAAME.

As I unpacked boxes, I started piling all my TBR (to be read) books on a bookcase in our bedroom. The result is a humbling reminder that I don’t need to buy any more books in 2024.

Oh, who am I kidding? I will never stop buying books – it supports writers and local bookstores. But I do need to make a dent in this hoard.

Go on, get out.

Nights of Lights in St. Augustine continues to be one of my favorite North Florida traditions. We went after New Year’s, and the crowds/lines/vibe was greatly improved. I am a natural hermit; it takes a lot of mental wrangling to get me out of the house, but I am (almost) always glad when I get out there and take advantage of my surroundings.

The Home Stretch

Work in the kitchen slowed to a crawl after Thanksgiving, but since everything was functional, we didn’t complain too much.

That is, until everything ceased to be functional.

We had noticed some water in the basement (every homeowner’s nightmare situation) and assumed that it was the result of recent heavy rains. We were wrong.

We were so, so wrong.

The culprit, as it turned out, was a cast iron vent pipe running from the disposal/dishwasher. It had completely corroded and broken into pieces. This unfortunate situation was compounded by a large grease clog in the drain line, creating a perfect storm of awfulness that struck on an otherwise peaceful Saturday morning. The plumbers had to create yet another gaping hole in our kitchen wall above the counters – fortunately, they caught this problem before the backsplash was installed. Hours before, as it turned out.

One brand-new vent pipe later, we were back in action.

In the meantime, Vlad the cabinetmaker delivered the surround for the refrigerator.

Before:

After:

Any doubts I may have harbored about eliminating the coat closet are gone. The cabinetry is stunning and matches the existing woodwork very well. It looks like it was original to the kitchen, and I cannot wait to utilize the extra storage.

While he was at it, I asked Vlad to trim the scrollwork from the long valance over the sink. It was distractingly country in a kitchen that was otherwise attempting to be sleek.

This was child’s play to Vlad, who had it down, trimmed, stained, and re-installed in about an hour.

After the Brief Plumbing Interlude, the tile setter got to work.

And behold, it was very good.

My favorite detail is this run around the big window. We spent more than a few minutes deciding whether to wrap the tile up from the bottom, or around from the side.

I would love to say that this completes the kitchen remodel, but I would be lying to you. Jason and I will be responsible for caulking and painting the baseboards and doors, as well as overhauling the existing pantry, which is in grim shape.

I had planned to get much of that work done over the Christmas break, but (waves hands in an ambiguous but frantic manner). So final, FINAL photos will be coming soon, but not today.

Looking Back, Looking Forward

2023 felt like it passed in an instant, like ripping off a band-aid or running a 40-yard dash. I wouldn’t say I limped across the finish line, but it was close.

Now that I have a full year of my job under my belt, I find it much less daunting. (For those just tuning in, I am the fellowship director at a big-ish Presbyterian church.) I took some time to really plan out 2024, making sure that the months are evenly loaded with events. I hope this will help me to maintain a semblance of sanity during the busy parts of the liturgical year. Due to the way this year’s calendar fell, Advent 2023 was very compressed, and I felt compressed right along with it.

We also moved this year, to a house that continues to break in new and inventive ways. I feel like we have been waging a five-month-long battle against water intrusion – from the roof, the windows, the pipes, and the basement. After January we will have eliminated every known source of water, which means that in February the house will find some new way to leak.

While the house has been a logistical and financial challenge, it is a delight that has slowly unfolded over those months. It is just the right size for the three of us. It feels spacious, not cavernous; graceful, not gaudy. It’s a good little house, and we are deriving a lot of enjoyment in improving it.

Books

I read an absolutely dismal 46 books in 2023, far off my goal of 65. I did read 11 non-fiction books, and some truly outstanding fiction. I don’t exactly know why I read so much less this year, but most of it has to do with an unhealthy attachment to the devil’s rectangle, my phone.

My top reads of 2023 were:

• Cloud Cuckoo Land, Anthony Doerr
• The Ink Black Heart, Robert Galbraith
• The Mother Tongue: English and How it Got That Way, Bill Bryson
• A Fatal Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Emma Southon
• We Own the Sky, Luke Allnut
• Strange the Dreamer / Muse of Nightmares, Laini Taylor
• The Running Grave, Robert Galbraith

I would like to read 65 books in 2024.

Hazel continues to read as though it’s a competitive sport. She received four books for Christmas, and finished them within days – along with two additional books. She’s joined a book club of kids her age, and it’s been good for her to read books that she may not otherwise choose. The group is adorable – one child picks the book, another brings the snack, and a third comes up with a book-themed activity. I am more than a little jealous.

Food

The highlight of our year was a trip to Italy, and the highlight of our Italy trip was learning about the food there. I did some cooking while in Rome and Florence, and have tried to copy some of the culinary experiences we had over there. I’ve improved my pizza-making skills, can make reasonable versions of classic Roman pasta dishes, and even attempted to re-create the life-altering sandwiches we had in Florence. Jason and I brought home a Moka pot, which we use regularly, and I received a milk frother for Christmas so I can master the cappuccino. Look for 2024 to be over-caffeinated and carbtastic.

Travel

In retrospect, it may have been ambitious to squeeze in so much travel and move in the same year. But to be fair, the travel was planned long before the move was contemplated.

In January I chaperoned a group of college students at a conference in Montreat, North Carolina. In March, we visited my brother in New York City.

Over the summer, we traveled to Italy, the mountains of North Carolina, and spent a week at St. Augustine Beach. And in the fall, Jason and I celebrated our fourteenth anniversary in Savannah, and took a multi-family mini-vacation in Seaside.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Hollyn graduated college and started her career as a high school history teacher. We bought Jason his dream car, a little red Mazda Miata. We bought ourselves a gorgeous view (house included free of charge!). Tyler spent part of the summer working for my brother in New York and then moved to Tallahassee.

Self-Improvement

The word of the year for 2023 was self-improvement. I failed in an abject fashion to improve myself. I am ending the year heavier – in body and in spirit – than I began it. I spent too much of the year irritated, overwhelmed, and frustrated. Everything hurts. I feel old.

Embrace Your Inner Winifred

For 2024, I would like to channel my grandmother, who was also a Winifred. She was poised, prepared, and punctual. Too many things snuck up on me this year – especially holidays. Nothing ever snuck up on her.

Despite the bleakness in the above paragraphs, I am actually looking forward to 2024. 2023 was not a bad year by any measure, but I have high hopes that 2024 will be better.

Functional is the new Finished

Welcome back! I hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving.

November was a month of steady progress in the kitchen. At the last update, we were waiting on flooring (and everything else). During the downtime, Jason and I primed and painted the walls and ceiling.

The flooring was installed just in time for my birthday on the 10th. Happy birthday to me!

When the countertops were pulled out, we discovered more wallpaper – this time in a bonkers old-timey pattern. Can you imagine this on all the walls of your kitchen?

I’m going to go ahead and call it – after midcentury modern has its moment, it will be dill pickle barrel’s time to shine.

We were extremely lucky that our time without countertops (and therefore a sink) was minimal. During those couple of days, our contractor added strips to the tops of the cabinets to raise the counter height to a standard 36 inches.

The countertop installation went off without a hitch, in one afternoon, and lo, it was very good.

By the end of that week, we had a fully functional kitchen. And there was much rejoicing.

Jason popped the rest of the stainless steel backsplash tiles off, which he found vaguely satisfying. That meant we celebrated Thanksgiving with a backsplash that resembled smears of gravy. Fun!

I am still getting used to the induction cooktop, but so far I absolutely love it. It’s completely flat, without knobs, so I can lock the controls and – voila! – an extra 36 inches of counter space. It’s also easy to clean and the controls are super precise.

Other than the backsplash, we have to complete the breakfast nook (which will get its own post) and do some other decorative finishing. We’re also waiting on the fabrication of open shelving to the right of the fridge.

The room already feels so much brighter, more spacious, and happier. I think the old countertop and floors were like sponges, absorbing all the natural light. The new surfaces are much more reflective, plus we’ve upgraded the existing lights and added a few more.

I could not be happier with the way this kitchen is turning out! It’s a very pleasant place to work, and it gets better every day.

And This Time I Mean It.

The time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things. Of tiles and quartz and induction cooktops, and cabbages and kings.

That’s right, it’s kitchen time.

This is the state of the kitchen when we moved in:

Everything worked, except the ovens, but everything was in need of updating. My first instinct was to gut the whole thing, but the more I lived with the kitchen, the more I fell in love with the cabinets. Sure, they were festooned with stickers and worn from use, but they were solid wood (even the cabinet boxes) and in a once-again-fabulous midcentury style.

Plus, keeping the cabinets would save us many thousands of dollars and many weeks of reno time, which was no small consideration.

The plan was to replace the appliances, countertops, sink/faucet, and flooring, and modify the existing cabinetry to do so. The breakfast nook would also be updated with new wainscoting and lighting.

Jason Taylor, world’s best human, personally cleaned and polished all the cabinets. They went from this:

To this:

Next, we replaced the 24-inch ovens with 27-inch ovens that actually worked. This improved our quality of life tremendously. The new ovens were much taller than the old ovens, so we had to replace a lower cabinet with a drawer. This work was done by the same husband-and-wife team that wrapped our air conditioning ducts. They’re fantastic!

Old and busted:

New hotness:

They even fabricated the drawer front from salvaged wood, so it matches perfectly.

Next up, we replaced the elderly and dim florescent tube light with a super-bright LED panel, which does feel like a skylight into the room.

To help with the bigger chunks of the project, I enlisted the help of Chris Pizzolorusso at Modform Designs. He understood my desire to honor the kitchen’s midcentury roots without turning it into a novelty room.

And then, dear reader, choices were made.

Since the cabinets are such a strong color, I wanted to keep the rest of the room pretty neutral, in shades of cream and gold.

I picked quartz for the countertops, because it is my favorite countertop material ever. I loved the subtle veining of this one:

To replace the aged linoleum, I picked a tile that brings to mind terrazzo.

For the backsplash, I chose an elongated hex tile in off-white, which we’ll run horizontally with oyster grout. Here it is with the countertop:

In the breakfast nook, I decided to replace the beadboard wainscot with tongue-and-groove, again run horizontally, with this absolutely fantastic wallpaper on the upper walls:

Demolition began October 9. We decided to eliminate a coat closet that opened into the foyer to make room for a wider, counter-depth refrigerator.

This made the room feel so much more spacious. The leftover space to the right of the new fridge will be open shelving.

While all that was going on, the linoleum was pulled up. For a few days, the floor was literally lava:

After the rest of the flooring was removed, fresh plywood was installed over the subfloor.

And that brings us to the present. The drywall work was completed today. The tile is supposed to be installed Monday (fingers crossed!), and then countertop templates will be taken. Fabrication will take about two weeks, and then the counters – along with the sink and cooktop – will be installed.

We’ve definitely turned the corner from destruction to rebuilding, and it’s been a relatively low-stress process so far. We’ve continued to cook at home, even though our fridge is in the back hall, the kitchen table is in the foyer, and I am engaged in a never-ending battle against drywall dust.