I’m just getting back to the lodge after a day of adventure. I forgot the thrill of driving through mountain roads. The bends that come up on you a little too fast and ya gotta put your body into the turn, say a little prayer. Hold your breath for a full minute before you realize it.

Sigh when it’s over.

It was raining pretty heavily today, and a blanket of fog was sitting across the mountains right at road level, making my journey from the yoga studio to the lodge a little extra treacherous.

But I made it safely. I’m sitting at the bar now, about to enjoy some mezcal.

The towns that dot the Hudson River and the Catskills have become very dear to my heart. The area just feels like home, in a way. It’s very my speed. It’s why I keep coming back.

So when my friend Gabriella asked if I could make a trip up to Hunter, New York, it was an easy yes.

Gabriella runs a book club at Scribner’s Lodge, a stunning lodge with cabins that look beautiful against the mountain backdrop. The property is so insane. It’s one of those places that feels like you’re walking into a storybook. It’s just really idyllic.

Look at the gardens:

Idyllic.

Every few months, Gabriella picks a book, people come in from all over to join the discussion, and the author comes, too! It all takes place in the community spaces around the lodge, and it’s just so…

Idyllic?

August’s book was The Emilys by Heather Abel, a climate-fiction novel that was unlike anything I’d read before. It had family drama and friendship and illness and hope, and a complete lack of hope.

Here’s the blurb from the publisher, Penguin Random House, in case you want to know more:

“The residents of a New England town become obsessed with finding the cure for a mysterious ailment spreading through their community in this “kaleidoscopic and gorgeous” (People, Book of the Week) novel about love’s capacities in a changing world.”

I booked my flight, read the book, and showed up at Scribner’s ready to see Gabriella do her thing. I love my friends so much, and I love seeing the worlds they build.

The event was incredible. Gabriella moderated a discussion between readers and the author, and it was cool to hear a new point of view on a book I’d finished just the day before. I had a few questions of my own, like: What the fuck inspired Will’s character?

But… no spoilers.

I’m so glad I made the trip. I’ll be spending the rest of the week bopping around and enjoying upstate life, but I had such a lovely time that I wanted to let you know this book club exists, in case you’re in need of a calming, soothing, cultured little adventure.

And if you want to maximize your book time, Gabriella also hosts Booked In at Scribner’s, a two-night literary retreat that’s been written about by National Geographic, Conde Naste Traveler, and Elle. Stay in the know about future book clubs and Booked In experiences: The Book Club at Scribner’s Lodge.

Just had to brag on my friend for a sec :)

Thanks for joining today! I’m off to go explore the mountains. Love you and see you next week!

Beau

Thank you Helix Sleep for sponsoring today’s post!

Last call! The Helix Labor Day Sale ends soon. With more than 20 mattress options and a quick sleep quiz to help find your perfect match, now is the time to upgrade your bed. I took the quiz and landed on the Helix Moonlight Luxe, which I’m still happily sleeping on every night. Shop the sale & save up to 30% on select mattresses at helixsleep.com/beaufelix before it’s over!

My garden has given me a lot this summer.

It’s given me a place to stomp my feet while I moan and groan about the outside world. It’s given me a great vantage point for watching the butterflies. And, at times, it’s given me a feeling of purpose.

The plants need me. I’m daddy.

This week, it gave me twenty cups of fresh basil. Which is a lot of basil. I’m sure you knew that, but I wanted to emphasize it: it is so much basil.

2026 has been another stupid year full of dumb things and also great things and plenty of lessons. One of those lessons is that I need to keep my kitchen better stocked. There have been times when my kitchen has contained fewer calories than I need to eat in a day.

Not good.

I have recently formed a much closer relationship with my freezer, which I now keep extremely well-stocked at all times. Almost any unreasonable amount of food can become a reasonable amount of freezer inventory.

When I started my end-of-summer basil harvest, I quickly realized there was no moral or even dignified way to consume this much basil before it went bad. So my mind went to pesto.

So much pesto.

This is a basic pesto, but a particularly rich and hearty one, made with pine nuts, pistachios, pecorino, and Parmesan. The kind of pesto that will serve you well all fall and winter long.

Freeze it in extra-large ice cube trays and you’ll have neatly portioned blocks on hand. Take one out of the freezer, loosen it in a saucepan with a little pasta water or broth, and toss it into whatever needs pesto.

Then thank the version of yourself who spent an afternoon harvesting, cleaning, blending, grating, and pouring so that you could pull a block of pesto out of the freezer several months later.

Favorite kitchen tools from this post: the Vitamix & Silcone Ice Cube Trays

Recipe below, but first, a word from today’s sponsor.

Thank you Helix Sleep for sponsoring today’s post!

The Helix Labor Day Sale is in full swing! With more than 20 mattress options, the Helix Sleep Quiz makes it easy to find your match. As a hot sleeper who switches between my side and stomach, I landed on the Helix Moonlight Luxe and genuinely love it.

Save up to 30% on select mattresses at helixsleep.com/beaufelix. #helixpartner

Blend & Freeze Bulk Basil Pesto

takes: 20 minutes, | makes: a lot

Assuming you don’t have exactly 20 cups of fresh basil like I do, here’s the ratio to follow.

2 cups basil : 3 tablespoons pine nuts : 3 tablespoons pistachios : 1/4 cup Parmesan : 1/4 cup pecorino : 1/2 cup olive oil : 2 garlic cloves + salt to taste

• 5 cups olive oil

• 20 cups fresh basil

• 2 cups pine nuts

• 2 cups pistachios

• 2.5 cups grated Parmesan

• 2.5 cups grated Pecorino

• 20 cloves garlic

• Salt to taste

Note: If you’re making as much pesto as I did, you’ll need to work in batches. Divide the ingredients as evenly as possible between batches, then combine everything at the end.

1. Add some of the olive oil to a food processor or high-powered blender, followed by the basil first and then remaining ingredients. Blend until mostly smooth but still slightly textured, adding more oil as needed. Try not to overblend it into complete oblivion.

2. Transfer the pesto to a large mixing bowl and repeat until you’ve used all of the ingredients.

3. Stir all of the batches together thoroughly so the ingredients are evenly distributed. Taste and add more salt if needed.

4. Spoon or pour the pesto into large silicone ice cube trays and freeze until solid. Transfer the frozen blocks to a freezer bag or airtight container.

The best way to loosen the pesto when you’re ready to use it is in a small saucepan over low heat with a few tablespoons of reserved pasta water if you’re making pasta, or chicken broth if you’re not. Stir often just until warmed through, then toss with pasta or spoon over meat, vegetables, and whatever else could use a little pesto.

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Helllllooooo.

My bathroom… she’s done!

I have been bathing nightly. I have been letting myself use more epsom salt than the package says I need because it feels like a luxurious treat. I think it is drying out my skin. Nevertheless, I soak!

I have lain in the tub and thought about nothing. At times, I have thought about everything. But one thought comes to me more often than the others:

I am so grateful to have a tub again.

I love this bathroom so much. It is absurd. It feels extremely me in this specific stage of my life. Maybe more me than any project ever has.

It feels masculine and grounded, but also feminine and whimsical. When I look around, my eyes float from thing to thing, landing on each one as I think:

“I love that.”

“And that.”

“Really love that, too.”

“I love you,” I would say out loud, if it could hear me.

This is also my first major renovation in the new house. I’ve done many projects, alterations, and paint jobs, but this is the first time I’ve really torn a room apart and put it back together so differently.

There are several other rooms in my home that will eventually receive this treatment: the kitchen, my bedroom, the guesthouse bathroom, and the laundry room. Those, too, will have the hands of God (Arnold, my general contractor) tear out their innards and flick each piece back into place.

I’m excited for them all, but after three weeks of living in a construction site, I can confidently say I am in no hurry to do them.

For now, I will simply enjoy the bliss of having this project completed: a candle lit while I soak, muscles eased, mind as empty as my particular psychiatric situation will allow.

More photos and all of the sources and pieces used below, but first, a word from today’s sponsor.

Thank you Helix Sleep for sponsoring today’s post!

A couple of months ago I shared my progress in the garden cottage, including how I got the best mattress I’ve ever had for it from Helix Sleep. Good news: they’re having a huge sale right now.

Visit https://helixsleep.com/beaufelix to take advantage of their Labor Day Sale and save up to 30% off on select mattresses.

I sleep hot, usually on my side or stomach. The Helix Sleep Quiz matched me with the Helix Moonlight Luxe. It’s perfect for me. They’ve got over 20 mattress models, so you’ll get paired with the right one for you. Check out the sale while they’ve still got it going on: Helix Labor Day Sale. #helixpartner

For this project, I used several pieces from the new Pierce & Ward collection for West Elm. I’d worked with West Elm to capture some of the collection for Instagram, and I was so excited to bring a few of the pieces into this renovation.

Here’s the full list of items I used from the collection:

• Wood Vanity with Claro & Red Marble

• Wood Sconces

• Wild Garden Shower Curtain

• Geo Hand Towel

And beyond that, here are links to the other pieces of this bathroom puzzle:

• Shower tile

• Wall tile

• Floor tile

• Ceiling light

• Unlacquered Brass Deck-Mounted Sink Faucet

• Unlacquered Brass Shower System

• Wyndham Collection Soaking Tub

• Holy Smoke candle from Hazeltine Scent Co.

That’s all for today. I am very tired and extremely clean.

Love you, bye! See you next week!

Beau

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I’ve only been in love twice in my life. They were such different feelings... it’s hard to actually categorize them both as love, but I’m sure they were. I think they were.

The first time felt like a morning stretch in clean sheets. Slow and refreshing and familiar. A constant.

The second was a volcano. Hot and consuming, flowing and flowing and flowing like there was no end to the source. It’s rock now. There’s no undoing what happened, and time keeps moving.

God I’m glad I had the clean sheets before the volcano, or else I’d probably be wrecked forever.

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I haven’t talked much about my love and dating life since my, you know, public divorce last year. I don’t really plan to now. Not in detail, at least. It’s been an interesting, mostly alarmingly negative experience, and I don’t have much to add to the “dating in 2026 is a dumpster fire” narrative that is already readily available elsewhere on your little screen.

But what do the people with sticky hearts do when moving on is hard and attachments form easily? When you can look into someone’s eyes after a fourth date and see the entire world beneath the surface? And when, well, maybe it took you 33 years to learn it, but you probably shouldn’t look at anyone like that so quickly. I think.

I’ve been giving my sticky heart somewhere else to go. This summer has been full of new friends who open my mind and old friends who open my heart.

Some of my most loving moments of the year have happened with them.

Love Stories from July

I.

We sat on the wooden bench beneath the weeping willow late on a Friday. I kept pulling back a branch that was brushing your face. Your hair was different than usual, slicked back a little. I loved it. You told me I needed more levity in my life. “Maybe we could play mini golf again one day.” You were right. I trusted your love on this one.

II.

You met me at a café in New York at noon. It’d been a year since I’d last seen you, and eighteen years since I’d first seen you. We had 45 minutes together. It had only been a week since everything happened.

I ordered two pastries, one with squiggly frosting and the other just a twelve-dollar brownie, but I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t eat anything. I hadn’t in days, and I looked like it.

You told me you couldn’t follow my train of thought. I said I couldn’t either. I cried. I realized how much I was asking of you in those 45 minutes, and I felt guilty.

You had your own life to tend to. Five weeks passed before we spoke again, and I thought the silence might kill me. Eighteen years is long enough to know five weeks isn’t forever, though. The other day you called, and we got right back to it.

III.

All my friends sat between us, talking over piles of sushi and carafes of sake. Your voice was muffled. “You just had an exceptionally bad pull. Absolutely insane. That’s gotta be a one-in-a-million,” you told me. I’d only just met you, but I knew you were right.

You left, and the rest of us stayed while our friend, the owner, closed up the restaurant for the night. The scent of floor cleaner and the taste of sake mix in a way that makes 1 a.m. feel floral and electric. To be fair, I did try mushrooms for the first time that night.

I can’t remember your name.

IV.

I could feel my skin burning under the sun, but I didn’t want to move. Not even to get the sunscreen. It was one of the first times in almost a year that I’d felt totally content doing nothing at all. The waves crashed nearby, sweat ran down my face, and the sun’s reflection off the sand made me squint.

The three of us hadn’t said a word in almost ten minutes. Sitting in silence is so intimate.

That night we watched a movie together, one I’d just seen a few days before. I couldn’t wait to hear what you both thought of it. The two of you see the world so differently from me. It’s one of my favorite things about our friendship.

V.

You met me at the wine bar where I’m always perched. The bar is nice, but it’s not fancy. You’d never been, and when you arrived, you told me you hadn’t realized it was uptown or you would’ve dressed differently. I thought you looked beautiful.

We shared a bottle of wine before walking over to the karaoke club.

The phrase “I’m serious” became an inside joke. You looked me right in the eyes when you laughed. I felt so connected.

You sang Chaka Khan’s “Ain’t Nobody” to me. You sounded amazing. We both woke up hungover, alone in our own beds on opposite sides of town.

*****
Maybe I’ve been in love more than twice.

And maybe letting the heart remain sticky is fine. If it’s going to stick, give it something worth sticking to.

See you next week.

Beau

It’s a busy week for me, so I’m coming at you today with a quick look at the bathroom renovation in progress. Right now, it looks like we’ll be wrapping up this weekend.

I’m so grateful to get to do this project and create my dream bathroom, no matter how little it may be. After ten months of hating the bathroom in my home, I feel like this is going to be such an improvement to my daily life.

On Instagram this week, I shared how I found the perfect window for this bathroom on Facebook Marketplace. It might seem like a bad call to shrink the window and reduce the amount of natural light, but I felt like this new style and size better fit my cottage-inspired vision for the room. The old window was actually a bit oversized anyway, with the trim butting right up against the shower tile. In this case, I think smaller just makes more sense.

And I mean, look at her! I love it.

Seeing the soaking tub installed was very exciting.

It was hard for me not to use a freestanding tub in my design. I love them so much, and I often find alcove tubs to be just… blah.

But because I’m working with a smaller footprint, I had to let go of both my love of freestanding tubs and my compulsion for every bathroom I renovate to look like it belongs in Paris, or in a boutique hotel inspired by Paris, or some other permutation of fancy derivative things. I needed to embrace functionality.

And I use the hell out of bathtubs. If I’m spending the night alone, I hardly ever watch TV or a movie. I’m usually in the tub reading. It’s my favorite way to decompress, so having a deep, comfortable tub was nonnegotiable.

The tile installation has started, and it’s got me very excited. I think the whole thing will take about two days.

I got all of the tile from Fireclay. I’ve always been a fan of their pieces, and for this bathroom they had the exact shade of aubergine I wanted. It leans heavily into brown territory, with just the slightest purple undertone. It’s beautiful and understated, and it’s going to look perfect with the sink’s marble vanity top.

I’ll share that very soon. Stay tuned!

See you next week!

Beau

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“You chose to live life on ‘extremely difficult’ mode.”

One of my best friends was lovingly fussing at me a couple of months ago while I complained about a not-so-great predicament I’d found myself in.

It was the beginning of summer. It’s been the kind of summer that sneaks up on you, mild at first, with sweaty armpits and rainy afternoons. And then harsh all at once. Blistering car seats. Night air that sits stagnant.

We were standing outside what used to be a bank in my neighborhood. It’s supposedly a restaurant now, though it only has service on weekends and still looks entirely like a bank. I don’t know what’s going on with it.

Anyway, it’s true that I sometimes pick the path of most resistance in life. I don’t know why. Maybe to prove to myself that I’m capable, or worthy? Work harder, get more, feel better about yourself.

Since that conversation, I’ve noticed how often I make things more complicated or more fraught than they need to be. In my “year of coasting,” no less. I’ve been trying to embrace the opportunities and people that walk toward me instead.

I promise this is a post about a bathroom renovation.

I hadn’t planned to renovate my bathroom so soon, but a brand I love asked to partner on it, and their timeline meant getting started… like right now.

Was this choosing life on easy mode? Or does an unplanned, sped-up bathroom renovation still constitute living life on extremely difficult mode?

There was a flurry of calls to my contractor and selections to make for tile, hardware, and lighting. Demolition started this past weekend. In just a day, the bathroom was reduced to exposed studs, pipes, and a pile of debris. I’m hoping to have it all put back together within the next two weeks.

It has, in fact, been a little hard. But I think I’ve landed on the lesson: life on easy mode doesn’t mean avoiding hard work. It means noticing what’s walking toward me and accepting it without turning every relationship or project or task into another test of my worth.

And so far, everything has fallen into place.

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Truthfully, I’ve hated this bathroom since day one. It’s made me so sad. Maybe it’s the support bars throughout the entire thing, reminding me that we all turn into fragile beings before turning into dust.

Or maybe it’s just ugly.

The wall tile is charming, in a way, but it’s also very damaged. The subfloor is rotted from an old leak, and there’s kind of an… odor? I’m not exactly sure of what. But it does not smell like a spa, and I want my bathroom to smell like a spa.

And, of course, there’s been no tub. I am so excited for my tub.

I shared a bit of my inspiration a couple of weeks ago. The colors and materials lean earthy and worn and slightly whimsical. Wood. Unlacquered brass. Browns and aubergine. It will lean a little cottagey, which is where I’ve found myself returning again and again in home design these past few years.

I’m hopeful that, even with the aubergines and whimsy, it still feels grounded and masculine.

Take a closer look at where I’m starting from below.

I’ll share the rest of this renovation as it unfolds. Fingers crossed that everything continues to fall into place and, in a few weeks, I’m writing to you from my new bathtub.

Life on easy mode still involves a lot of dust.

See you next week!

Beau

With all the talk of parasitic d******a, I have never been happier to have a garden. I grew some crunchy cucumbers, made this salad, and let me tell you: it is divine and, to my knowledge, parasite-free!

My garden has been thriving in the wet, hot New Orleans summer we’re having. Everything is overgrown. The okra, eggplants, and cucumbers have formed an amorphous blob of vegetation, each crop pushing far past the boundaries of its garden bed.

Here and there, you’ll spot a Japanese eggplant hiding in the foliage, twisting and skinny and ready to harvest. The okra grows comically fast and has proven difficult to keep up with. The cucumbers? They’re sneaky. They hide in the shadows beneath the leaves, and every time I find one, it’s on its last good day and needs to be picked and used immediately.

That’s not a problem.

I’ve been a little slow on the ’Stack lately. The heat and pace of summer have been urging me to keep my days as easy as possible. But there’s a recipe for you below, and I’ll be back with more soon. Love you dearly.

Smashed Cucumber Salad

• 3 cucumbers

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 2 tablespoons toasted sesame oil

• 3 tablespoons mirin

• 1 teaspoon soy sauce

• 1 shallot, minced

• Chili crisp, to taste

• Black sesame seeds, for garnish

Slice the cucumbers in half lengthwise, then gently smash them with the back of a knife until they crack slightly. Cut them into bite-sized pieces, toss with the salt, and let them rest on paper towels for 10 minutes to draw out excess moisture.

In a small bowl, whisk together the sesame oil, mirin, and soy sauce.

Transfer the cucumbers to a serving bowl and toss with the dressing, shallot, and chili crisp until evenly coated. Finish with a sprinkle of black sesame seeds and enjoy!

See you next week,
Beau

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See you next week,

Beau

I’ve gotten weirdly bad at detecting A.I. content on the internet. Six months ago it was easy enough. Now? I get duped pretty easily. There’s a strange shame in being fooled. Every time it happens, I feel silly, old, confused. Less trusting of myself than I once was. That’s been a theme.

Why can’t it just be real? What’s real? Who gets to define my reality and, well, why does it so often feel like it’s not me?

I’ve found myself zooming in on photographs looking for six fingers. But A.I. has finally gotten good at fingers. I’ve pretty much stopped reading Instagram captions by anyone who isn’t a close personal friend. So much mass-produced short-form copy has the same line breaks and emoji placement. Obvious ChatGPT energy.

What happens to us when we stop trusting our own senses? When we live with the suspicion that something isn't what it seems? There’s a constant, low-grade uncertainty I bring to every one of the hundreds of pieces of online content I consume each day. I can’t think of something more unsettling than being denied the agency that comes with knowing something is real.

It feels... bad. I have a low threshold for uncertainty.

Which brings me to my bathroom. Ha!

I’m about to renovate it, and more than anything, I want it to feel real. Grounding. Deeply calming. The irony is that I’m pretty sure half of the images on my inspiration mood board are at least partially A.I.

What are ya gonna do?

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The mood board is filled with browns, aubergine, plum, wood, unlacquered brass, and natural stone. Colors that remind me of every garden I've ever loved, old leather furniture, and the last kiss of daylight after the sun has already set.

Materials that scratch, patina, fade, and soften with time instead of pretending they never age. There’s comfort in things that age. They’re honest.

I’ve already ordered a big soaking tub. I am so excited to have a tub again. Much like yoga and massage, bathing is often a salve for my overactive nervous system, allowing me to feel grounded again.

Over the next month or two, I’ll be choosing grout colors for the shower tile. Deciding on wood stain. Watering my peppers and pulling up the elephant ears that just won’t stop popping up. Making meals from my garden and enjoying the hot, humid hell of a New Orleans summer with my best friends. And, hopefully, taking the best baths of my life.

At least I’ll know those are real.

See you next week,

Beau

Without the usual flood of AI-generated Instagram memes, peptide ads, GLP-1 ads, and ads for meal delivery services targeting people with tiny appetites (because of all the GLP-1s), my eyes picked up on a lot more.

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My own reflection (gearing up for Leo season, so sue me)

I do not like how I look right now. I especially do not like how I look in the reflection of J’s Cleaners in Downtown Brooklyn at dusk after a day of sweating. Soft dusk lighting should’ve given my features the benefit of the doubt, but instead I just looked flat and dull. I also look older than I remember. I'm used to seeing myself in my little Instagram videos, but that's such a controlled version of me with perfect lighting, familiar angles, and years of learning exactly where to place the camera.

A surprise reflection? No thanks. I look tired. I am tired. I think it will pass. I got a massage yesterday, so we're off to a great start.

The cottagecore studio apartment in Manhattan

Through the window of a fourth-floor apartment, I caught a glimpse of a tiny studio filled with cottage-inspired decor. Inside: soft gingham, linen, warm lighting flooding each corner. Outside: the smell of urine, a woman screaming at her child, a city bus that almost hit me. It was a striking comparison.

I think lovers of cottagecore decor, myself included, are really just looking for peace. Maybe this person knew exactly what they were doing when they decorated. We create our interior worlds for us, not for strangers. I’m not sure I was supposed to see it at all, but I did.

The biggest rat (complimentary) (unoriginal New York experience)

Holy hell, the rats are big. Of course they are. But when I tell you I saw the biggest rat I’ve ever seen in my entire life, scurrying across the steps of a brownstone before jumping into a hydrange bush covered in balls of bright purple hydrangeas. It looked like a dog.

I wonder what it has been eating?

The couple arguing outside of the Two Hands Cafe on Bleecker Street (they were both wrong)

I met a childhood friend for breakfast at Two Hands in NoHo. Two Hands kind of feels like it was made for Instagram, which has started to feel vintage, which is terrifying.

You guys are putting that much effort into piping rippled frosting onto each piece of banana bread? What would Ballerina Farms have to say about that? I don’t want my hearty banana bread to be so delicately decorated. Give me a shmear. It feels more real.

Ok, sorry, the couple. She wanted to go to the fragrance store on the corner, and he wanted to go somewhere else (I couldn’t make out what he said).

They started arguing about it?

He thought it was a bad idea to spend money on perfume, and she thought his destination was too far. My advice from a failed marriage and other relationship catastrophes? Do both, for Christ’s sake, before you end up hating one another over nothing.

But at least they were being honest with each other. Honesty is important!

I went to New York to feel better. It worked! I think I will start turning my phone off more.

See you next week!

Beau

I got thrown out of a raft on Saturday.

I was a little behind the rest of the group a few hours into our trip down the Hiwassee, a river in East Tennessee with gentle rapids and long calm stretches where everyone gets their own raft. Most of the day is spent drifting, admiring the mountains, and tossing each other drinks and snacks.

On the last rapid, after we were all sun-dazed and sleepy, I wasn’t paying attention and my raft hit a rock at a strange angle and tossed me right into the water. I didn’t even realize I’d been tossed out until I realized I couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly I was doing a spin cycle a few inches below the surface. I did one flip, then two, hitting my back and legs on the rocks while the current turned me around. I kept waiting for my head to hit, but it didn’t.

Right when I started to get turned over a third time, the water released me. I gasped for air, spotted my raft a little downriver, and swam for it. Once I’d pulled myself back up and my friends gave me a once-over, I was pretty happy with the price I paid: a bloody hand, legs that were going to be covered in bruises, and my eyeglasses.

It could’ve been worse.

Still, on the car ride home, I did grab the seat a few times to make sure I was, in fact, in my body. The Sixth Sense instilled a fear in me of dying and not knowing it. What a rough existence.

It didn’t shift my love for the river. I’d go down it again tomorrow if I could. The Hiwassee River is my favorite thing to do in East Tennessee. It’s what made me fall in love with the state. I’ve gone down it many times since moving there, and at this point it’s woven into some of my favorite memories.

It’s where I’ve brought most of the people who made the trek to Tennessee for a visit. Friends, family, people I love. The river has held a lot over the years.

Whenever I think about that place I can feel all of the love I’ve shared there.

It’s also where my favorite shirt, the blue one that’s falling apart and says “Tennessee” in orange embroidery, went overboard in 2022 and lodged between rocks beneath the surface. It was eventually retrieved for me in an act of love and care that still makes me smile when I think about it.

The river means a lot to me. There’s some metaphor to be made here. Something, something, having fun, something, being tossed into the rapids and lowkey almost dying, etc.

Anyway.

Now I’m back home in New Orleans, with new eyeglasses currently being prepared for me.

Last night I hosted a goodbye dinner for my friend Gabrielle before she left for New York for the rest of the year. She does this every year. Leaves in June. It’s always hard, but I’ve gotten better at goodbyes over the years. Loving with open palms, no strong grip. Or at least I’ve tried.

I made meatballs, of course, and we all had wine. There was a Dubai chocolate cake from our friend Morgan. We talked through some favorite memories from this past year of her living here, including our trip to the Black Pot Festival where we were mistaken for a couple.

That happens to us a good bit.

“As long as I don’t talk too much,” I added.

“And sometimes you don’t!” she said.

When we’re in a group setting together, Gabrielle is skilled at filling the conversation when I get overwhelmed and disappear into my head for a bit and need someone else to carry the words. New York gets her for half the year. New York has always been a bit greedy. I was sad to say goodbye, but excited for her adventure.

What’s the quote?

“Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

David Foster Wallace.

That’s stupid!!! A terrible way to go through life. Everything I’ve ever let go of gets a dinner party and a kiss on the way out.

Life happens whether you’re ready for it or not. All you can really do is hope it spits you back up to the surface eventually.

Oh, look at that, I found the metaphor! Nice.

Time for me to go, but first I want to share some photos from my garden. I have eggplants and a cucumber and peppers and okra I just love it.

See you next week.

Beau

I have driven the same truck for nine years.

It’s a 2012 Nissan Frontier and, if you’ve ever heard me describe it, you would think it was barely hanging on. When I park at Home Depot it’s not uncommon for a strange man to holler from across the lot something like “I can fix those dents, $500!”

The paint isn’t in great shape and the seats have seen better days and the dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. “Engine!” “Tires!” “Oil!”

And yet, it just keeps going. I promise I get regular maintenance, but within a month all of my little lights are back on blinking at me. I have taken a liking to them, my little dashboard charms.

The radio doesn’t work well and the aux port broke so if I want to play music I pop in one of the 3 CDs that were gifted to me by the person who said putting my phone on the dashboard to play music was “sad.” He was right.

That truck has hauled lumber, furniture, plants, moving boxes, child seats, groceries for blow out parties, and just about every version of my adult life. It has driven between Louisiana and Tennessee more times than I can count. It towed Rosie the Trailer through the Redwood Forest in Northern California and back, crossing through the Rocky Mountains. It has survived multiple houses, multiple careers, four pets, a marriage and a divorce.

I've thought about replacing it for years and probably will one day soon. But every month that goes by without a car payment makes it a little harder to part with. That, and, of course, the emotional ties.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with money. Ever since I started accumulating debt, even the reasonable kinds, I carried around this low-level sense of dread. Mortgages and student loans and credit cards. Nothing unusual. It’s just always felt like a portion of my future had already been spoken for by the people who were due my earnings.

This week, I paid off pretty much all of it.

The student loans. The credit cards. My tiny hundred-year-old house. The remaining debts that followed me through my twenties and into my thirties. I imagine that isn’t the most common outcome during a divorce year, but with assets liquidated and a very major downsize, I was able to do it.

I don’t really feel different yet.

I guess I expected a deeper sense of relief. Instead, I’ve mostly been going about my week as usual.

But if the last few years have taught me anything, it’s that feelings are non-linear. They come about when they want.

Grief, acceptance, and, I guess, relief.

One unexpected benefit of this whole chapter has been figuring out what I actually want from life. The things that genuinely make me happy.

For example, it turns out I still need my house to be adorable. This should not come as a surprise to anyone.

Not luxurious or grand or over a thousand square feet, even. Just cute as a button. A little hundred-year-old house with character and charm and a yard full of plants. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last year separating things I genuinely care about from things I thought I was supposed to care about. That’s incredibly hard to do for me. Especially given I have built a living that requires people to want to watch that life unfold.

Travel has landed firmly on the list of things I actually care about. The older I get, travel feels less like a chance to escape my life and more like an opportunity to better appreciate it, more clearly. Without my rose-colored lenses or my depression fog blurring the view.

I want to see new places, sure. But mostly I want to come home with a better understanding of myself and how I want to spend my time back here in this small city the swamp is slowly, well, rapidly, consuming.

I am not going to tell you, again, that this is finally the year I make it to Italy.

I’ve been saying that for at least three years now and I’m beginning to wonder if I actually want to go to Italy or if I just enjoy talking about going to Italy.

Maybe next year.

For now, New York is on the list. Los Angeles too. Maybe Mexico.

Financially appropriate destinations for someone who just paid off all of his debt.

:)

Speaking of travel, I head up to Tennessee today. Which feels less like vacation and more like going home. Home away from home, at least. I’m lucky to have my heart stretched across state lines and I’m excited to breathe in some mountain air with a few people who hold my heart.

While the relief of paying everything off hasn’t fully set in, it does feel like a little more of my future is, well, mine.

Time to pack.

Talk soon,

Beau

When I was a kid, my grandma sometimes hosted Easter egg hunts in her backyard. I don’t remember how many eggs there were, but I remember there being a lot of plants. The yard felt huge back then. Big shrubs and lots of foliage. Statues of Mary and St. Joseph tucked into garden beds. I haven’t seen that yard in many, many years and I’m sure it wasn’t nearly as big as I remember it being. But what’s the fun in that? In my mind it will always be ginormous.

I was one of the younger cousins, so I was glad to get anything at all in the hunts. The older kids were faster and found the eggs pretty easily. I remember wandering around hoping I’d spot one behind a shrub or under a branch before somebody else did.

And every once in a while I would! The excitement! If I could bottle that feeling, I’d probably be able to go off my Wellbutrin.

I’ve thought about that yard a good bit recently. I’ve spent the last few weeks turning part of my own yard into a shade garden. Big shrubs. Lots of foliage. I bought a dozen or so plants and have been slowly figuring out how they all fit together in one big corner that doesn’t get that much sunlight. I’ve even considered getting Catholic statues to place throughout the greenery like my grandma had.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve really been leaning into my old joys and comforts in this new chapter.

Working in the garden is one of them. Every time I spend an evening planting, watering, or moving things around, I end up feeling better than when I started. I wish I could tell you it’s more complicated than that, but it really isn’t.

Perino’s is another. It’s a plant nursery in Metairie, a suburb of New Orleans. The kind of place you can find Lowe’s and Home Depot and Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s all within a few minutes of each other. And the mall! And Perino’s. Sweet Perino’s.

It’s another piece of comfort I have found in this new chapter of life. A chapter that has contained a lot of feelings. Excitement and grief and joy and loneliness…sometimes all before lunch! Wild ride.

But one thing I’ve enjoyed is how many surprises there have been.

I’ve met a lot of new people, and have had a lot of new experiences. I guess I’ve just been more open to it. All of it has been a nice reminder that life still has a way of handing you things you weren’t expecting to find.

Kinda like an Easter egg hunt! And there are still a lot of places left to look.

I’m on a work trip in Denver right now, but I’ll be back before the weekend and will have a couple of days to get my hands dirty again in the backyard. I’m very excited about that.

Talk soon.

Beau

Hi you

I’m just coming in from a few hours in the garden. I’m so glad I can say that again.

Something is eating the eggplant each time a new fruit is set. I noticed it after it happened for a second time. One missing eggplant? A fluke, maybe. Two? We’ve got a problem. It’s not a bird or bugs. It’s something that can chomp.

Chomp. Chomp.

I thought back to an organic vegetable gardening Facebook group I belonged to in a past life, the one where the sun disappeared behind the mountains each evening, set to a soundtrack of quacks and chirps. I miss that version of my life sometimes.

Like most Facebook groups, it was full of characters. Hippies smearing chili oil on their vegetables. Country folks saying they’d resorted to shooting the animals snacking on their produce.

An eclectic bunch!

I tried to remember what they’d say to do in this scenario. Cages, maybe. Or a gun. I’m pretty sure the culprit is an opossum, and they’re cute enough to be worthy of my vegetables. I’ll just let it be their buffet.

I planted some flowers this week. I’m not much of a flower person, but they’re sweet to have. The outdoor dining table and chairs I’d been waiting on finally arrived, so it’s really time to kick it into gear and get the backyard looking dinner-party ready. Flowers felt like a nice touch.

Soon I’ll plant lots of shade-loving greenery to fill out the sparse parts of the yard. There’s an old brick wall behind the dining patio covered in vines and aged with algae, and probably mold, or something, I don’t know. You can kind of see it in the first photo. I thought about pressure washing it. Clearing off the invasive vines. Making it clean and correct. But it’s so charming. So quintessentially New Orleans. Aged, eroded, full of life. I think I’ll leave it how it is. I may even tuck some fern plugs into the nooks and crannies for a more dramatic overgrowth effect.

I’m so excited to make my vision come to life.

The vision, if you’re curious, is lush. And hidden. Raised garden beds spilling over with whatever’s in season, tropical plants jumping out from shady corners. The hardscaping is all natural: the old brick wall, a winding pea gravel path. At night, string lights will make the whole thing glow.

It’s very tucked away back there, private and quiet behind the guest house, which makes it feel like a little secret just for me. The dining table seats eight and sits just a few feet from the raised beds, so when people come for dinner, they’ll eat what grew right beside them. That’s the dream, anyway. Farm to table, with nowhere to be and no reason to go inside. Except for the mosquitoes.

That’s all I’ve got for you this week. Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll see you on Wednesday!

xoxo
Beau

The garden cottage is slowly becoming my cozy hideaway from the world. Well, the physical world. Digitally, it’s been pretty exposed, I guess. But still. It’s my tiny little quiet spot tucked away in the most private part of the property.

And I’m gonna do my best to make sure it is as cozy as possible.

Here are five cozy favorites I’ve been loving lately that are definitely making their way into the cottage too:

Flat Pillows

Everything is so firm these days! Sometimes you just want a nice, flat pillow. I sleep on my side, so these keep my neck from ending up in some bizarre position all night. I got mine a couple of months ago, and now they’re all I sleep with. I do still keep a few regular pillows on the bed when I make it, though, just so it looks nice and not completely deflated.

shop the pillows

My Favorite Eye Mask

I am extremely light-sensitive. The tiniest sliver of sunlight or even the little glow from a charging device and suddenly I’m awake and ready to start the day. I bought my first MZOO sleep mask a couple of years ago, and now it’s the only one I use. I love it so much. It has cushioned padding around the eyes, so it kinda feels like you’re wearing nothing at all, while also delivering a level of darkness that allows for full visual deprivation.

shop the mask

Lavender Sleep Spray with Melatonin

In case you can’t tell by now, I take my sleep very seriously. I usually have an herbal tea before bed and take magnesium, and between that and my sleep mask, you’d think I’d be out cold. But no. Most nights I do a spritz of sleep spray to help me calm down, get cozy, and go to sleep.

shop the sleep spray

Low-Watt Amber Sleep Bulbs

I know we’ve all moved past using overhead lighting in the bedroom, but have you swapped the bulbs in your lamps for something softer and more relaxing? Amber bulbs give off the dreamiest warm glow. Everything feels calmer, cozier, and a little sleepier in the best way.

shop the bulbs

The Helix Moonlight Luxe

The Helix Moonlight Luxe is the best mattress I’ve ever owned, and I think it’s mostly due to the supportive but not too-firm feel. After I took the Helix Sleep Quiz I got paired with the Moonlight Luxe, and it’s given me so much great rest already. It’s one of over 20 mattresses Helix has for you to choose from. I’m planning to live in the garden cottage while my main house is being renovated, and I’m feeling way more confident about that decision now that I know I’ll have such a great mattress to sleep on! Their Memorial Day Sale ends soon and offers 27% off site-wide. Check it out! The mattresses ship right to your door for free in the US, and there’s a 120 day trial to make sure ya like it. Can’t lose!

shop the mattress

xoxo
Beau

As a reminder…

Here’s where we were like a month ago! Yikes!

The garden cottage is my cozy hidden gem. It’s tucked away behind my house, and opens up to my new garden. It’s filled with light and, until this month, was in major need of a renovation. Now that I’ve reframed the walls, installed new floors, painted, and set up my bed with the best mattress I’ve ever slept on… it’s one of the coziest projects I’ve done in a while. And it’s not finished yet! I need lamps and art and a few more decorative pieces, but oh my goodness gracious it is such a sweet spot.

Remember how just a couple of weeks ago I wrote to you about how I’ve become really particular about what I welcome into my life in this new chapter? When it was time to pick out a mattress for this room, I applied the same mindset. What does Beau need in a mattress?

Well, everyone I’ve ever shared a bed with has told me I’m a “furnace.” So it needed to be cooling. And I also needed something soft. Sometimes I find memory foam mattresses to be a little too firm for me, like I can’t get fully comfy.

I took the Helix Sleep Quiz and it gave me my destiny: the Helix Moonlight Luxe mattress. Apparently it’s great for side and stomach sleepers, another win.

I’m a side sleeper who sometimes flops onto my stomach, and after years of trying to become someone who sleeps on my back, I’ve accepted that’s just not me. Not for now.

It shipped for free right to my little tiny house here in New Orleans. I set it up and immediately laid down in it.

This is the text I sent one minute after my body hit the mattress:

Extremely important side note: I did not intend to publicly share my use of the phrase “holy mackerel,” but here we are…

And then I got back to setting up the rest of the room. I laid out the rug and brought in a side table, lit a candle, put on the bed linens and even brought in a plant. The room felt ready for me.

I went to bed at 10 p.m. and the next thing I knew I was waking up at 6 a.m. feeling like I’d just spent the night in a cloud. And so I sent this text:

Yes, I update the people in my life on every detail. I think it’s what you’re supposed to do when you live alone?

I’m going to be wrapping up this bedroom project in the coming weeks with the last few remaining items, and then it’s time to get started on the garden cottage living room! You know, the room with those funky terracotta floors. That one might be a bit more challenging. Talk soon!

Thank you Helix Sleep for sponsoring this newsletter and giving me the best sleep I’ve had in while. Get 27% off sitewide during their Memorial Day Sale and choose from the 20+ mattress options Helix offers! Head to https://helixsleep.com/beaufelix :) #HelixPartner #BestMattress #BedMattressSale #HelixSleep

xoxo
Beau

I did paint samples in the garden cottage. Does it feel like this project is taking forever? It has been taking forever.

I was so excited to start working on it in April, and then work got busy and life got busy and then I needed to do my backyard garden right this minute. And so it was pushed to the side.

If you’ve already forgotten all about it, here’s the refresher: First Look at The Garden Cottage Renovation Plans.

It’s a 325-square-foot cottage with a bedroom, tiny living area, tiny bathroom, tiny laundry room. It would be the perfect size for a squirrel or an art student in New York. It is so little! But it is precious, as are so many tiny things.

The walls and ceiling will be a creamy white called Gardenia, and the wood floors and trim will be a garden green called Leaflet. I can’t think of a better color combo for a garden cottage.

I’ve never painted wood floors before. It feels like kind of a deranged choice after having spent lots of money removing paint from floors to put down a beautiful stain. However, this space is very humble, and I think paint will actually feel more appropriate in this tiny little shack of a cottage than stain would.

The older I’ve gotten, the more appreciation I have come to have for context and scale. A humble home does not suddenly become grand because you put down gorgeous stained oak flooring. Things are allowed to be humble and still be perfect.

I think the green floors will be so pretty, especially with a worn vintage Persian rug on top. Lived in and loved on, just like I hope this space will feel.

I am pretty positive painting will be done by this time next week, so I hope I can show you by the next email.

The reason I’m calling the project the “Garden Cottage” is because it opens directly out onto my new backyard garden. It’s so quaint to open the double doors and see the rows of beds now very very full with plants that are growing so fast in this hot and rainy New Orleans spring weather.

Oh, and I have already have made something using the herbs from my garden!

Roasted potatoes tossed in the herbiest green goddess dressing. It is so good. I put a good bit of mint in it, along with tarragon, dill, parsley, and chives. It’s so bright and delicious. I think I’ll be sharing that recipe with you next week, too.

Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll see you on Wednesday!

xoxo
Beau

In high school, I had a year or so where everything I ate made my stomach hurt and contort. It led me down some bizarre dietary paths as I tried to find the foods that my body was happy with. White rice and chicken felt fine, so I did that for a while. I tried being vegan, and also paleo, I think, in the same year.

Eventually, I did something resembling an elimination diet, a process of removing all allergens and irritants for a few weeks before slowly adding them back in one by one to see what your body likes and what it doesn’t. The results were inconclusive. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason. In retrospect, I think I was just having anxiety.

In a lot of ways, last year felt like an elimination diet, but for my life. Not so much about removing specific things forever, but about shaking everything up enough to finally notice what actually makes me feel good. I moved houses and states and upheaved everything, starting over not quite from scratch but certainly in a much different kitchen.

This year has been about taking inventory of what actually makes me feel good.

A couple of months ago, I took a bath on vacation and realized how much I had missed my weekly Epsom salt bath ritual. My muscles were soft, my mind was clear, and I had forgotten how much I needed that feeling. Since my new home doesn’t have a tub, it’s been added to my future renovation plans.

I recently began thinking about how I wanted to use my backyard. What would make me happiest?

I scanned my mind for all of my favorite memories from backyards of the past. The old New Orleans house, the Tennessee homestead, the tiny balcony of an apartment before COVID. My favorite memories all included planting and harvesting and watering vegetable gardens. It’s always been my thing. And in this new chapter, I hadn’t yet done the work to make a garden happen. It sounded daunting, but I knew it would be worth the effort.

I found cute enough, sturdy metal garden beds online. I ordered a soil delivery from a local hardscaping yard and spent a few afternoons and evenings putting the beds together and hauling soil into them. A friend and I spent this past weekend shopping for plants, seedlings, and herbs to fill the beds with, and now I have a vegetable garden!

We planted tomatoes, lots of peppers, probably too much eggplant, cucumbers, fennel, okra, several herbs, and shiso. The other evening, I was watering it all after the last of the sunlight died down and felt so grounded and at peace.

I am growing again! What a gift. It feels like I just fit another puzzle piece into the life I’m building.

Maybe my new garden will inspire a recipe or two to share with you this summer.

Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll see you next week!

xoxo
Beau

Which is a massive improvement from the “Kill yourself!” messages of last August, but a little sadder than the “Your life is inspiring!” messages from a year prior.

I have had such a weird life, you guys.

Even on this weekly email, I have shared less of my personal life. I’m not depressed or struggling! I’m just, like, living! I spent so much of my 20s and early 30s documenting everything, and I truly was often having a great time doing it, but that itch to post isn’t there like it was then. I still take a lot of photos, I just rarely ever share them.

Sometimes I scroll through my camera feed to see what I’ve done that month, and that’s the only exposure they get. For someone who built so much of my life around sharing it, learning that I can still exist fully offline has been comforting. It’s not some mystery to me why my interest has waned. I mean, I probably have some kind of PTSD from last year.

When I come across the feeds of people I follow who have stopped posting as much, or entirely, it makes me sad. I get this heavy sense of dread, almost. Like this thing that was once so full of life is now empty. It feels almost like grief, actually. Like a micro, digital… death. Does a person become less alive when they stop being perceived? Is that really what I’ve thought all this time? Or maybe I just feel abandoned, like this parasocial relationship has suddenly ended without my consent.

Now that I’ve done my own, albeit less extreme, version of that, I wonder if I’ll feel better next time I see someone’s account go a little slower or stagnant.

I wonder if instead of grief, I’ll imagine them doing something they love without posting about it. An afternoon on the beach with friends and wine. Maybe a hot date night. A quiet afternoon reading while the rain pours outside.

I hope so. Because, at least for me, less posting hasn’t meant less living. If anything, maybe the opposite. I’ve been having such a fulfilling time, asking myself almost constantly, “Am I enjoying myself in this moment?” and if the answer is no, making whatever adjustments I can.

My days, when not working, have been filled with hot yoga and time outside and time in the gym and time with friends and fancy dinners out and quick dinners in and, most notably, spending as little time on screens as possible.

What a journey this has been, and I’m still excited to share here as that journey changes, week after week, as always!

There’s no update on house stuff this week as I’ve been too busy with work to really do anything. Which is a bummer. But hopefully this weekend brings some progress.

Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll see you next Wednesday!

xoxo,
Beau

I gave my bedroom a little facelift. After months of living with makeshift furniture and white walls that left me feeling blah, I painted the walls, bought a bed I actually wanted, got new linens, swapped out the overhead light, and installed Roman shades. It was a pretty small project, but now it feels like a proper sanctuary to rest my head at night.

Here’s the deal, though… it’s all temporary. This room is going to get a major renovation by the end of the year, basically a full gut, but I didn’t want to wait several more months to have a bedroom that feels comfortable.

I’m glad I took the time to do it. On my first night sleeping in the new room, I felt way more at home. No surprise there, I guess.

Here’s everything I used to make this room come together:

After being relentlessly targeted with ads for the Roseland Bed in Cherry, I broke down and bought it. It’s such a sweet, timeless piece made with quality wood here in America. I’ve only slept on it for a week or so but I am very happy with my purchase so far!

For bedding, I went with the Percale Bundle from Brooklinen with sheets in “Cream,” duvet in “Fresh Moss,” and pillow cases in “Storm.” I worked with Brooklinen on a partnership on Instagram, full disclaimer, but they really are such high quality. I’ve been a Brooklinen fan for years and I think my favorite thing about ther bedding is how cooling it is. I am a hot hot hot sleeper, so they really help out.

I traded out the chandelier for the Boutique AiO Pendant from Color Cord in “Pine.” My design direction for this home is old charm meets modern silhouettes, with lots of color. This was the perfect replacement for the chandelier that was, in my opinion, pretty stuffy.

For my window treatments I used Striped Roman Shades from Select Blinds in “Twill Stripe Blush.” I’m a Select Blinds lover because they have great pricing, and it’s easy to custom the sizes to your windows.

For the wall color, I made a custom paint color using 3 parts Celery SW 6421 & 1 part Ryegrass SW 6423. I struggled to find a green that was perfect, so mixing together two colors became the obvious solution. I’m really happy with it! The baseboards and trim are Relentless Olive SW 6425, which has this gorgeous deep warmth that I love.

And that’s really all I’ve got going on in this room. I’ll be updating and adding more here and there, but I’m happy with where it’s at and definitely think it’ll do until I move forward with my bigger renovation plans later this year.

Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll see you next week!

xoxo
Beau

I spent the weekend in Tennessee doing some maintenance on the land and the cottage. I weeded. I mowed. I watered. All the things that used to be a weekly ritual for me.

While I was there, I kept thinking about how much of my days used to revolve around caring for that property. It’s such a contrast to life now, in my small home with its tiny but charming backyard.

A big part of me misses the way I’d zone out in nature. I used to get sidetracked and have hours just fly by. That’s less common now. It was grounding in a way that’s hard to replicate. Maybe it’s just a good reminder that I need to make more space in my daily life to step outside and just… observe.

The landscape here in New Orleans is different. The only rolling hills are the levees holding back the Mississippi. There aren’t pine trees stretching up into the sky, but there are old oaks with thick trunks and limbs draped in Spanish moss. It’s a different kind of beauty that my eyes might have stopped appreciating after seeing it all for a lifetime. I intend to get better at noticing it.

Aside from my tasks around the property, I spent my Tennessee weekend seeing friends and had three very sweet dinners with them. Saying goodbye was hard.

But now I’m back home and staring down two projects: the guest house and my bedroom.

The renovation crew just wrapped the guest house, which means it’s my turn to get to painting, installing fixtures, and decorating. I’m really excited about this one. I love the idea of having a thoughtful, comfortable space for friends when they visit.

And my bedroom is finally coming together. I painted the walls a soft pistachio and the trim a rich olive. I found a simple wood bed, new bedding, and my window treatments finally came in. It’s amazing how different it feels now. For the first few months, I was just making do with cheapo furniture I had in storage and white walls. Now it actually feels like mine, and I feel more at home. And I’m even sleeping better!

I’ll be sharing more on both of those projects soon :)

Thanks for being here. See you next week.

xoxo
Beau