How to Write a Note: With Mr. Boddington

I am a note writer by nature, it comes so easily to me. I have reams of bullet-pointed paper, scratched out and rewritten, all throughout my office. I write notes for myself. I write notes to Nolan. I've written notes throughout my childhood--too nervous for the confrontation, delaying the inevitable response for when they read my folded-up note at their leisure.

I have my current job due to a card I had written. In October of 2014, I had interviewed for a job as an executive assistant to the then-President of my company. I did not get the job. But, understanding that there was always opportunity in the future, I had written to the President and given my appreciation for her time all the same. December of that year, I moved to Texas for work with another company. It was not a good fit for me, but I did it all the same. The promise of an amorphous "career" loomed with the move and so I took the bait and drove to my new apartment in San Antonio. 

In May, the person they hired instead of me was fired. And I got a call from the President. She asked if I would move back to California and work for her. She said she was holding my thank-you note in her hand. She hired me on the spot, offered me a generous salary to move back. Ten days later, I started.

The power of a notecard, a personal touch. It makes all the difference in the world. A card or letter is more than a pleasantry, a necessity, a routine; it's the artifact, the symbol, the proof that the recipient was on your mind for more than the transient interaction itself. I believe in the imbued quality of gentility that goes into a handwritten note. I believe in its ability to give the recipient a pause in their otherwise routine. 

Because of this, I've put together a small guide for writing notes. It's not much, but it includes a few rules I follow. With the help of Mr. Boddington, I hope that it inspires others to continue to cherish the small instances of care that one forgets these days.

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Thank You Notes: A Primer

If you remember, I received a couple writing sets from Mr. Boddington. Since then, I have been dying to find ways in which I could incorporate this stationery into my daily life. Thankfully, it was easy, considering that, between work and family/friends, I send a note to someone about once a week.

The cards in both the Tulum writing set and the Leopards desk set both are flat cards, meaning they do not need to be folded. In the above examples, I lined out the various parts of a correspondence card. I'm sure these seem pretty basic--and they are. But in the notes below, I lay out examples, tips from Mr. Boddington's book, and some of my own personal recommendations on writing an impactful note on the real estate of a notecard.

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Parts of a Note.

A. Date

None of the the following notes should be considered dogma. In fact, most--if not all--can be construed as personal preference. The date is one such instance. For me, I prefer to write date in the European format. This is simply for aesthetic reasons, meaning that I like the numerical balance, enveloping the month in the middle. It always goes on the right.

B. Salutations/Greeting

I think that the greeting sets the tone of the entire note; but I also think that it's often overlooked. As Mr. Boddington put it, "Using the classic Dear Frida, is completely acceptable. Other favorites are Dearest, Good Morning (or Afternoon), My friend." I've been known to simply put the recipient's name for more formal notes, or a few pleasant adjectives ("To the wonderful, amazing Atlanta team") for informal and ingratiating notes.

C. Body

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I've stared at this section for a while. How does one try to encapsulate such a personal, malleable, and vague portion of the note into a bullet point? The best advice I can give is to keep it to the point. 

In the example, please find an example that Deborah Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire ("Debo") wrote to her sister, Lady Diana Moseley ("Honks"). What I liked about this example is its brevity, its directness in its questioning, and how it ends with a story. This was all done in 8 lines of copy. For most notes, I don't think you need to worry about expending any real estate on, "What's up?" or, "How are you?" In fact, I think it's counterproductive, considering it's not an immediate conversation and when the recipient replies, he or she won't answer, "While reading your note I was cutting flowers" or whatever else was "up".

Further, whether the note is a thank-you, a congratulations, a sympathy card - all should follow the similar rule of keeping it to the point. Here are a few rules I follow:

For thank-you: Give your appreciation in the very first line. Then, somewhere in the copy, say one reason why you love it, then the enthusiastic "We can't wait to use X". (Eg, Thank you so much for the new china set. We absolutely love the pattern. I can't wait to use it this summer for our picnics in the garden).

For congratulations: I think the hardest thing about this one is making sure you're not overly sentimental, but respectfully prideful of one's accomplishments. For this, again, keep it direct, then leave with a compliment (You always were great at equestrian). I think we tend to want to flourish the language to really let someone know our enthusiasm at their success, that we overdo it on occasion.

Sympathy: Purposefully vague but genuinely sorry is the best way I can describe these types of cards. In my current role, I've had to write eight (too many!) condolences cards for my coworkers losing their parents. Not wanting to take away from their grieving through my own letterwriting, I try to keep it non-denominational, understated, and meaningful. Using cliches here may not be a bad thing - you are truly sorry for their loss! But, noncommittal terms such as "He's in a better place" doesn't always have the same gratification, in my opinion. 

For any and all of these types of correspondence, I think we need to do more of them. In the current book I am reading, The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters by Charlotte Moseley, the six Mitford sisters wrote to one another for over 70 years, compiling hundreds of thousands of letters detailing every part of their lives. I was inspired by their letters' oftentimes banality, but also their wit, sympathy, excitement, and hope that jumped off the pages. Why can't we do this, too? What has stopped us, other than the advancing immediacy of technology? Increase in instant gratification (texts, emails, Facebook) should not preclude the human touch we all of us are losing. I implore more letter writing out of each of you, for small victories and large deaths and promotions and birthdays and thank-you-for-dinners. All of it.

D. Closing and Signature

How funny that the formality and occasion of a note dictate how it should close. Due to the alliteration of my name, I'm fond of using "Best" for most scenarios. But a quick "XOXO" will do for my loved ones. It's hard to be creative when there are the standard-bearers of typical closing words ("Sincerely", "Yours", "Always", "Regards"), so perhaps try to be a bit creative here. But not too much so that it comes off as sophomoric. One co-worker of uses the closing "Forever attentively" and I roll my eyes at this self-congratulating.

The signature need not be anything but your first name in whatever style you sign it. I like to do it a tad differently in script than my note (larger, or more flourished). As Mr. Boddington points out, for more formal or new acquaintances, use first and last.

Celebrating the Ordinary

For me, as I've already said, writing notes is completely natural to me. And while I do not receive the amount of notes I send, I do not expect to. 

Mr. Boddington's memorandum notepad is the absolute perfect medium for these everyday notes for me, especially to Nolan. Usually tucked under his keys before work, you'll find a note of some sort for him to read. Working from home affords me a certain knowledge of the house, our chores, etc that I like to keep him informed, too. These I keep simple, a quick jot with an XO scribbled for good measure.

I think what notes like this do better than texting is that one can now look back to it. We receive so many messages on our phones a day, it's hard to keep track. This way, it's a physical reminder of something you may not want to forget. Alternatively, a small love note (like the one I had waiting for Nolan after Iceland) still hangs on our refrigerator, reminding us of relaxed days when things may be a little stressful.

Closing Remarks

Nothing I've said here should be mind-blowing. It really shouldn't be. We naturally know how to form a letter. I remember most of these steps in the 6th grade for a composition class. But, it's the recalling each components' individual meaning that matters. I'm a huge advocate for taking five minutes and a 49 cent stamp to make someone else's day a little brighter. I'm so fortunate to have found Mr. Boddington to share in this missive with me.

Weekly Edit: Four

As you may have seen on Instagram this week, I am in a sort of Royal Wedding come-down. To be honest, since doing my family tree in a 3-month-free-trial frenzy on Ancestry last year, I have been into a lot of aspects of British life (I can trace my family back to the Norman Conquest). Having had finals during Kate and Will's wedding, this is the first one I felt invested in.  All it did was make me even more ready for my own wedding. We are officially at the 166 day mark.

And now it is Sunday and I am a little late getting to this week's edit. And while it hasn't had as much traction as some food posts, I don't mind. I'm enjoying letting you into another side of me.

Bon Voyage. 
Without much notice, I have to go to Nashville this week for work. I've never been. Unfortunately, I will be sequestered to my hotel room or the office, with just business dinners to look forward to. I'm already missing the dogs, chickens, and Nolan, but I'm excited at the prospect of room service and perhaps an hour to myself in the pool (...and then even more room service). I'm even more excited to use my Delsey luggage, as it's deceptively roomy. Last time I packed two suits, a travel steamer, two pairs of dress shoes, and usual sleepwear.

But, if I am lucky enough to snag a lunch by myself, I'm hoping I find a vegetarian restaurant, as I've been meat-free for three solid months now.

Aw. 
As mentioned above, this was the first Royal Wedding I've really gotten to watch and, to an extent, care about. I won't wax poetically about Meghan and Harry, but I love their love and I love how truly happy they both seem. I think after months and months of only reading about the horror of Trump, it's been a nice oasis to see some good in the news.

Snack. 
Since seeing some cute little heart-shaped spongecakes from Emma Thynn, Viscountess Weymouth, I've had it in mind to make my own. Here, I've made some tea cakes with jam and buttercream. The recipe is so easy, I've thought I'd share it here instead of in my blog today.

Ingredients
6 eggs, room temperature
1 cup white sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 cup buttercream
1/2 cup jam of your choice

Directions. 

1. Preheat oven to 350*F and line a half-sized baking sheet with parchment paper
2. In your stand mixer, fitted with a paddle attachment, beat eggs on high for 6 minutes
3. Add sugar, beat for 2 minutes until light and foamy
4. Fold in flour and baking powder
5. Pour onto your prepared sheet
6. Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown
7. Allow to cool and cut into desired shapes
8. Pipe buttercream around perimeter of cakes
9. Spoon middle with jam
10. Press top cake over buttercream and jam
11. Enjoy!

Relieved. 
This is my baby, Murphy. He's the most gentle boy in the entire world, who loves with his whole heart, can find even the smallest corner of your arm to cuddle in, and loves to sit out int the sun for hours and hours and hours. Today, we found ourselves in the emergency vet clinic with Murphy. On a walk, Nolan found a bump on his tail. We remained calm for the dogs, but internally, I was sick to my stomach. 

It turns out that it's a benign tumor that will need removed, but is nothing to worry about. We'll schedule it for the next couple of weeks, and he'll get a teeth cleaning for good measure. I love him more than anything in the entire world, so I am especially relieved today. And, because he was such a good boy, he got some McDonald's on the way home.

Inspired. 
Since buying our home, I've slowly but surely been leaning towards following more home interior Instagrams and blogs. I also follow a few children's toy companies, because they're always just so...precious. I found this baby room by Dina Bandman to be just so perfectly inviting with just the tiiiiiniest bit of whimsy that I adore (those sheep!). 

Between this and Alice Naylor-Leyland's touch on Stibbington House, I think we know what's inspiring me this year as we have a little more budgeted towards the house compared to last year.

I'm finishing this post early so I can do my face mask, finish packing, and watch Westworld. If you haven't started it, I highly recommend. I love a series with good world-building. And if you're like me and can't get enough Thandie Newton (a goddess), then I recommend her TED Talk to tide you over.

And last but not least...check to see if you vote this week (Arkansas, Georgia, Kentucky, Texas)!

It's Too Hot to Bake: Caramel Banana Tiramisu!

I am fair-weather in the literal sense. My loyalty to the seasons changes, dependent on my comfort and mine alone. Right now, it is muggy. The storm has not broken and I am miserable. My office desk is pushed up, adjacent to the window and the sun makes a glare on my computer screen. And yet, I still wear layers. And yet, I still drink hot tea. And yet, I do not pull the blinds down to avoid the glare. I do not adapt to the world easily. I ask only that it adapts to me.

I thought about my inability to accept the truth, the change, the innate malleability of time and people and seasons. I thought about it just this morning, in fact. And I came to the conclusion that I ignore its responsibility to my life, its stewardship to my own decision-making at all costs. Like pneumonia, like a hangnail, I learn to live with the idea that all efforts to understand and adapt to the seasonality of people fail me. I live with the pain and ignore its presence. Its roots, to my knowledge, to my incessant ignorance, are not that deep.

But I know this is not true. I know there are signs to change all around. My dogs are not puppies, but instead they have white tips to their chins now. I ignore it. I did not recognize myself in a photo earlier this week and the achingly stiff reflection of myself in an asana during yoga. I would ignore a continental drift it it meant a few more minutes with even the idea of a Pangea.

And I thought about Italy this morning. How naive I was. How I thought I would conquer the world, but in reality I was scared to take the bus by myself. I was a young 18. I didn't know much. I never learned the language. I ignored the signs of losing my friend while there. I ached for all the ways in which it was How It Used To Be. I did not understand the power of the mind, how a cavity can feel like headache and glass in your heel can just be the shoes you have on. I let the friendship atrophy and that overshadows all other memories of Italy now.

But there is a Renaissance within me. I want to look back on that time and think about other things, now. The first time I got hungover was on Limoncello. How I lost my contacts in Florence. The wine from the chalice, the wine from the bottle, the wine from the glass of a stranger that got switched at the bar. The time I cried when I saw the David. The time I cried when I missed my family. The sweating windowpane on the overcrowded train to Ostia Antica and the cat that greeted me in the ruins. And the small cafe next to the old Jewish Ghetto that served tiramisu with fruit in it.

And now I remember it well, the flavors of a city I never loved. And how I regret my distractions now more than ever. But I'm rebuilding those memories now in the dessert below.

Caramel Banana Tiramisu

To be frank, this dessert is easy. It's that way on purpose. Partly because I didn't make it in the traditional route and partly because all the ingredients were either in my pantry or on sale. But that's the beauty of it - it's adaptable. It's your own, so use any dish you want, add a different liquor...hell, even dip it in tea and make the cream spiked with Earl Grey. I'm a blogger, not a cop!

Ingredients:

• 2 cups heavy whipping cream
• 1 TB vanilla extract, divided (see below)
• 3 TB sugar
• 1/2 cup caramel sauce
• 8 oz mascarpone
• 2 overripe bananas
• 24 ladyfingers
• 1 cup strong coffee or espresso
• 1 TB brandy (or even 1/4 teaspoon almond extract with 1/2 teaspoon vanilla from above)
• Cocoa powder or chocolate sprinkles and a banana, sliced, for decoration

Directions:

1. In a stand mixer, whip heavy cream until peaks form, add 1/2 TB vanilla and sugar, continue beating
2. Add caramel, mascarpone, and bananas. Beat until incorporated
3. Chill in refrigerator while prepping ladyfingers
4. In any dish you may want (I used a 12" pyrex pie dish), assemble your first layer of ladyfingers
5. Mix brandy or extracts into coffee
6. Slowly pour coffee over each individual finger (I prefer doing it this way than dipping directly into the coffee so they don't get too soggy, but to each his own)
7. Take cream mixture out of fridge and cover ladyfinger layer with cream
8. Repeat with remaining ladyfingers and cream mixture
9. Top with decoration listed, return to fridge for at least 3 hours prior to serving

Weekly Edit: Three

I'm currently writing this newsletter with the door open, my third cup of coffee in hand, and the sound of the dogs panting on the deck. I just texted Nolan than I want to take a vacation (I text this just about weekly, though). It's officially been in the high 70's for the better part of the week, which means I am itching to (finally) start my garden project.

But I'm sequestered to my office for 8 hours for work, so I might as well stay busy with some (light) online shopping and some (not-so-light) daydreaming. 

Adore. 
I am a huge Hugo Guinness fan and I stumbled upon his newest prints, an author-inspired series of block prints. It runs the gamut of classic writers, from Poe to Balzac to Twain. My personal favorite right now is the Baudelaire print (shown above), but that may be because I just finished the second season of A Series of Unfortunate Events on Netflix.

And while I haven't read Les Fleurs du Mal since freshman year, but maybe with a little help from Rosetta Stone* I can read it in its original text.

*I am currently on currently on Level 1, Unit 1, Lesson 3 and just learned the difference between the French pronounciation of "o" and "-eau", so maybe this is a goal pour l'année prochaine.

Sip.
And while we're on the topic of home decorations, how absolutely lovely is this china pattern from a set my mother gave me this week? It's a full service set that she picked up in North Carolina. It's a brand called Lynn's and the pattern is Bennington. I love its bit of gold and its overall simplicity. Our good china is a little busy, filled with pheasants and larks and maroons and grapevines. So I'm hoping to make this more of an everyday sort of set, even if it's just for a picnic in our soon-to-be garden. But, for now, I've been enjoying a bit of Salada in these cups, because I think it's all about mixing high and low, right?

Adopt. 
Nolan and I both follow all the local animal shelters in our area. While we're perfectly happy with our three (well, two out of the three we have, as Milo is having some behavioral problems right now!), we can't help but look at all the beautiful dogs still in need of a home. 

I'd like to introduce you to Sugar and Spice, two 6-year-old pug sisters who are currently up for adoption at the Washington Area Humane Society. I know any family would be blessed to have these two gorgeous bubs!

Sweat. 
I'm 26, so I'm on the verge of losing my metabolism. And considering the amount of junk food I eat and how many naps I take, I'm probably never going to have it back once I lose it. Which is why I'm now a regular at the local YMCA. The horror.

Luckily, there are classes included in the membership, including yoga 4x a week (which means I can finally justify buying these, especially since they're on sale). 

And while the smell of the pool tempts me every time I walk into the gym, I don't think anyone wants to see me doggy-paddle for 20 minutes to avoid the treadmill. 

Cleanse. 
I'm the first to admit that I do not have the best skin. "Combination" is what I think you'd call it. Difficult is what I call it. 

I regularly see a dermatologist, so I'm lucky in that regard. But occasionally I'll have a stubborn problem that won't go away. In desperation and on a whim, I picked this mask up at the local dollar store. I'm very impressed with it so far and have used it three times this week (okay, mostly just for a reason to have 15 minutes away from the dogs and to sit in the tub a bit longer). 

Mom. 
When my parents dropped off the china this week, they also brought along a photo album. I'm so glad they did. It's full of unposed, unpretentious images of love between my mom and me. And while the decades may have changed us (including the big hair, big glasses, and high-waisted shorts), I don't believe any of that love has diminished over the last 25 years between us. If anything, it has transformed into my mother being my best friend, the person I call for everything, and the strongest person I know.

And last but not least...check to see if you vote this week!

Weekly Edit: Two

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. Well, it's been 8 days since my last Weekly Edit, so by June I'm hoping I keep up with this additional newsletter. 

Truth be told, I've been busy.  Between housework, blog posts, partnership opportunities, and going to the gym (a surprise even to myself), it's been a bit of a blur. Not a lot of Instagram or internet rabbit holes. And while I did finish And Then There Were None and the first season ofBreaking Bad, I don't have much to say for other accomplishments of the week.

And yet, still, quite easily, I found a few things I want to share with you this morning.

Upgrade. 

Let's start big and go from there. Until last Sunday, I drove a 2011 Mercedes GLK350. We got a great deal on it while we still lived in California; but it's done terrible in snow since moving back to Pennsylvania. It was time to upgrade (and stress-call my mom hours before signing the contract to talk me off the ledge). I am in no way a car person, but I'm loving two things about this new ML 350: it syncs to my iPhone easily and that it's just really pretty. 

Relax. 

I'm not particularly fond of Summer, but I'm craving the sun right now. And so are the dogs. Murphy and Elsa are both from California (Milo's a Texan), so they enjoy relaxing on the deck when it's 80 degrees. Truth be told, it's the main reason we got a sofa out there now. Here's a picture of a sleepy Elsa and a sleepy me after finishing up my workday on said sofa.

Read (...and then Doze Off). 

I'm in a bit of a Wes Anderson renaissance right now. I recently housesat for my parents and watched The Darjeeling Limited and The Fantastic Mr. Fox. Still waiting for the opportune time to settle down for The Grand Budapest Hotel, I thought I would download one of the film's inspirations, The Post Office Girl by Stefan Zweig, to my Kindle. Zweig's biography of Balzac is currently being used as a coaster on my nightstand, so I'm hoping this one keeps my interest a bit more. I just started it last night. Stay tuned. 

Covet.

The "Covet" section may just be a staple for me, as I tend to usually find a minimum of 5 things I want throughout the week. 

This little matching silk number by Charlie (shirt and pants sold separately) has me looking at flights to Greece for our honeymoon. Bonus for me, it's like looking in the mirror at the model above, of course.

At $500 for the set, it's a little (a lot) more than I can spare on clothes, but here's hoping someone remembers to add this to my Christmas list in case I forget.

Snack. 

I've been a vegetarian now since February, but I'm not tired of it yet. I keep my palate keen on new flavors so I'm never bored for long. And with warm days, we're keeping the oven off as much as humanly possible.

Enter cheeseboards. With Vermont Creamery's newest smoky pepper jelly goat cheese, a little smear on a cracker and I'm satisfied. Add an ice cold Guinness Nitro IPA and I'm in heaven.

Bake. 

Of course, how can I not mention the lovely pink lemonade poundcake that I made in this week's blog post? Tangy and moist, thanks to the addition of yogurt and olive oil, this cake was devoured by us and the dogs in one day. Topped with a lemon-spiked crème fraîche frosting, it never felt dense like some cakes can. Make this today - you have all the ingredients already, so what's stopping you?

Summer's just around the corner, but will any of us ever be as beautiful as Lucille Ball or her dogs?

Ready for Summer: Pink Lemonade Poundcake

It's well in the 80's now. The transition from Winter to Summer with no in-between. I took a call outside yesterday. I muted myself between the birdsong and the small panting of Milo, waiting patiently next to me so he could sit on my lap. It's hot - not warm. It's uncomfortably hot in my office, in the foyer. It's hot, uncomfortable in bed. We slept on top of the covers, did not touch. Murphy sidled up to me; he always needs to be cuddling one of us when he sleeps. 

It seems that gradual changes are a luxury now. The weather patterns are a little extreme. The definition of a season is a little more fluid, but it's become the exaggerated version of itself. Perhaps it's the same with us, with me especially. I am more an exaggeration of an adult than a gradual transition into one. It was not a slow transition - it seems as though one day I woke up and I had a house and a fiancé and 3 dogs and 10 chickens and a car payment and a loan payment and dishes in the sink and a part-time job so I didn't lose my mind.

But I never said no to it all. And that's okay. I do not mind. I am happy here with the dogs and the dishes and the bills. It was not a transition, but I am not uncomfortable with it all the same. 

And so I sit outside and I am proud that the shaggy grass I see is my own. Two weeks ago, it was so stunted and now it stretches to the sky and competes with its neighbors. I sit and make a mental list of all the work that still remains on the house - a new fence for the dogs, cleaning up from a flood last year, mowing the pasture and tilling it for our garden. But it can all wait; there's still so much summer left.

But I'm ready for it, even if it wasn't all that gradual. Even if my day is eaten away with the mundane. Even if I can't hold Milo or it's too hot to cuddle with Murphy. And I think of sipping an ice cold lemonade and add those flavors to the below cake. Just for the hell of it. Just to add a little bit of commonplace luxury to my otherwise gradually changing life.

Pink Lemonade Poundcake

Ingredients:

• 1/2 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt (or vanilla, if you want!)
• 3 eggs, room temperature
• 1/2 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
• 1 1/2 cup AP flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350*F and line/grease a standard loaf pan
2. In a stand mixer, cream together butter, oil, and sugar (oil will not make this a beautiful, fluffy cream, but it should be light and slightly green)
3. Add yogurt, eggs, and extracts; beat. It will appear slightly curdled looking
4. While mixer is on low, add dry ingredients
5. When all is incorporated, mix on high for 30 seconds to aerate
6. Pour into loaf pan
7. Bake for 1 hour (at 50 minutes, mine was browning a lot, so I covered with foil then)
8. Remove from oven, allow to cool completely before decorating (see note below)

Decorating: You can, of course, go the simple glazed route, but I went a little fancy here. The icing is 4 oz creme fraiche, 1 3/4 cup confectioner's sugar, juice of one lemon, 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract, 2 TB softened butter, and 2 TB shortening. I beat all ingredients in a stand mixer on high until fluffy. Then, I divided this

Weekly Edit: One

I'm am a consummate screenshotter. As I scroll Instagram, I find myself down rabbit holes, for which I have to leave a trail of screenshot breadcrumbs along the way. Eventually, between selfies, foods, dogs, and chickens, my photo library gets muddled. Not being a fan of Pinterest's grid system, there aren't many options for me to tell the masses of what I'm lusting over this week. Hopefully, this weekly (maybe) newsletter will do just that, while also helping me keep track of what I'm reading, wanting, stalking, and wearing. 

You can sign up for my newsletter, The Yolk, here to receive these Edits automatically.

See. 

I've worn glasses since I was five. Having already gone through my giant 90's phase, my $13 frames phase, my I-don't-care-I'll-take-whatever phase, and (yes, of course) my Warby Parker phase, I was looking for something I would actually like to wear. I know it sounds silly, but having worn glasses for four-fifths of my life, glasses are just a part of who I am, but not necessarily something I consider as an accessory. 

But after seeing Shuron's Freeway model, I started to think of the possibilities of not wearing contacts for 14 hours a day, 7 days a week. I bet my optometrist (and my corneas) will be relieved. I ordered my pair this week and can't wait the 10-14 business days for their delivery.

Wear. 

I didn't buy this, but do I love it. I've been following Howlin' on Instagram for months (years?) now and always find a new thing to daydream about. This graphic turtleneck looks cozy, effortless, and a little fun. Warmer days have finally hit Pennsylvania, but that doesn't mean I'm not dreaming of this winter's turtleneck collection.

Listen. 

The patron saint of third shift, truck drivers, powerhouses, strong women, small towns, and the maudlin reality of the almost-real, almost-ready, almost-loved. Neko Case has, with no hyperbole, been my absolute favorite singer for a decade. The emotion she brings out of me is immediate. With an upcoming new album, I'm excited to see her concert later this summer. In the meantime, I will be belting "Bad Luck" while I drive to the YMCA tomorrow.

Favorite lyrics: "My heart could break for a one-legged seagull and still afford nothing to you"(THIS IS VERY ME)

Bake. 

Maybe my 2018 resolution should have been "Eat more s'mores." I've been dipping a spoon into a jar of marshmallow fluff this week, and finally decided to manifest it into a little more...elegant of a dessert. With an adorable chicken cookie cutter Nolan got me in Austin, I came up with these s'mores animal crackers. The recipe's right here for you.

Read. 

Wow. Does this book take me back. I checked this book out from the library maybe 40 times between the ages of 8 and 12. These were pre-Amazon days for us, so we went as far as to ask the school library if we could just buy it. They said no.

So I was especially happy that, after a glass of wine and a trip down memory lane, I found my local library carried D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths. The pages, the drawings, the myths themselves...I wonder how much of this book shaped me over the years. And yet, I was able to forget about it so easily. I'm sure there's a moral in there somewhere. In the meantime, I'll be spending my weekend reading about Io, Europa, Orpheus, and many others.

If your library doesn't carry it, buy it tonight. You won't be disappointed.

Covet. 

With my rekindled love of ancient Greek art, I am beyond in love with these Neptune rings. The Salacia collection, designed by Luke Edward Hall for Lucy Folk, focuses on the Roman goddess of the sea and Neptune's consort. This signet ring, featuring the sea deity himself, is available in Yellow, Rose, and White gold. Its design is both illustrious and ascetic, making it a piece I can see worn for a million reasons--or for no reason at all. With a $1,000 pricetag, this is definitely on the "When I get that promotion" list...or perhaps the "Would it be crazy to put this on a credit card" list if I have a second glass of wine tonight.

Sit Tight. 

I saw this bath mat and had to have it. I have big plans to put her in front of the back doors instead of the bathroom, so she is on full display in the dining room. At $50, I think it's a steal; but, unfortunately, I have to wait until June 20th for it to ship. No fair.

A look inside the beautiful illustrations of D'Aulaires *heart-eye emoji*

Summertime and Animal Cracker S'mores

Now that it's warm, I'm already thinking of the summer. I look out to see the chickens, their legs already in tall grass. I wonder if they'll enjoy the smell of a campfire as much as I do.

A holly bush stretches out right in front of the deck out back. Elsa hides there and Milo hops over low branches instead of ducking under them. I saw a cardinal rest at the top most brand. It flew away. I won't see another one in months. They're so easily spotted in the snow.

New routines now revolve around this newfound sunshine. I have more energy in the morning, but still beg Nolan to make the coffee. I can still get away with wearing sweaters most days, but other days I stay in my pajamas and wait until I can take an evening bath. We're eating later, less hungry. Bored. Tired. We nap. We run outside. We walk the dogs and feed them eggs from the coop. I'm drawing to keep my hands busy and trying to draw the perfect silhouette of our otherwise calm life.

And I play no records these days. I want to only hear the wind shuffling through the house right now. 

But my mind goes back to campfires. To cold beer. To smelling Nolan's cigarette smoke on his fingertips and my shirt collar. This year we will start a garden and not just watch summer from the closed window.

And I can't wait.

Animal Cracker S'mores

In the spirit of anticipation, I used a new cookie cutter to make these chicken-shaped s'mores animal crackers. Think of it as an update from last year's--but so treacly sweet you'll only want just one...or two...or three.

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup wheat flour (I used Bob's Red Mill, as shown below)
• 1/2 cup AP flour
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 stick unsalted butter, softened
• 1/4 cup brown sugar, pacled
• 1 TB molasses
• 2 TB honey
• 1 egg  yolk
• 2 TB milk

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350*F
2. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper
3. Sift together flours, cinnamon, and salt
4. In a stand mixer, cream butter, sugar, molasses, and honey until light and fluffy
5. Add yolk, mix for a few seconds
6. On low, add dry ingredients and continue to mix until a ball forms
7. Add milk (you may need a little more to the mixture if your flour is very dry or you are in a higher elevation than li'l ol' me)
8. Roll out onto a floured work surface to about 1/4 inch thick
9. Cut out desired shapes and transfer to baking sheet
10. Bake for 20 minutes, but begin checking at about 16 minutes (as you can see, a couple of mine were a little burnt due to thin cookies and uneven oven!)
11. Allow to cool
12. Cover in marshmallow fluff
13. Torch to toast top
14. Add chocolate chips as eyes to finish (alternatively, you can dip in chocolate, but I did not have enough to do so!)

Letter Writing with Mr. Boddington

I've always been a letter writer. I think it's in my genes. My mother is, too. When I was in high school, I'd find cards, ripped off pieces of paper, the occasional back of an envelope with messages on them. All from my mother. All saying, "Thinking of you" or "Have a good day". I wish I'd kept them. In reality, I'm sure they were lost in the trash of a teenager's car--folded and then out of sight among water bottles, old tests, and the odd fast food bag. 

And there is a drawer in an old chest somewhere in my parents' house that hold yellowed construction paper with misspelled notes of love written in crayon. They did a better job at keeping those things than me.

And when I was younger, I could not always face things well. I'd write a note to say I was angry, sad, frustrated. I would wait for the response and in that interim, I would cool down or forget what I was even upset about. There was a time when my mother would go to work at four in the morning. Every night I would lay a piece of paper in the sink. The message was the same, a lilting plea to see her in the illumination from my clock radio light:

"Wake me up when you get up". 

Writing has always been something I loved to do. To have a few minutes dedicated to someone else. To scrawl or chicken scratch or scribble. To emote, to congratulate, to beg for forgiveness. To say there's leftovers in the fridge. To warm my hand around an envelope before I leave it in the sink, on a countertop, in the mailbox, under a door. Sometimes I misspell a word. Sometimes it's illegible because I have so much to say I want to hurry through it all. 

I thought about this all as April rolled around, as it's National Letter Writing Month. I thought about this as we took our Save the Date photos this week. I thought about this as I went to work on Saturday, where I work once or twice a month at a stationery store in town to surround myself with beautiful paper. And I thought about my history with letters when I reached out to Mr. Boddington and told them how beautiful their products are.

For me, I first knew about Mr. Boddington from their custom silhouettes for dogs and children. I had these bookmarked for months, before finally buying them for Nolan's Valentine's Day present this year. After supplying probably dozens of photos, notes, and pedigrees of the dogs, I received their likenesses right there, in lustered archival ink--Murphy Ann, Elsa June, and Milo Bug. I wrapped them up, but couldn't keep them a secret. I think I was so excited, I gave them to Nolan on the 11th of the month.

Their portraits now hang on a wall opposite some Hugo Guinness prints of dogs we have. Because the more dogs the better, in my opinion. Along with a papier-mâché mouse that rests on our doorframe. And an unobtrusive buffalo just around the corner. (And they all complement the cast iron stag that we hang our bathrobes on.)

And stuffed in drawers all around the house are varieties of notecards, stationery, journals, and postcards. All blank, all waiting to be filled with correspondences. And how excited am I to add Mr. Boddington's collection to the mix. 

Here, in this first post of my new site, I'd love to share with you the products I adored from their online shop and why they so perfectly fit with my domestic philosophy: to take the duty very seriously, but a touch of whimsy and refinement only give it the attention it deserves.

Mr. Boddington Studios

The online store has both a section for adults and children. The democratic set-up means that there is truly something for anyone who loves jotting a note to someone. I adored the prints of in the children's section, and so, sheepishly, I ordered the children's writing set. And, to round out my age group, I got an adult writing set as well.

Every detail was accounted for in the packages. From a handwritten note to royal blue ribbon tied around the sets to a wax stamp to seal it all together, I was smitten by the beauty of it all and couldn't wait to dive into a few of the products.

Below, I've outlined a few of my favorite products from their current collections and give a little insight into how I've used these products in the last few days. In the upcoming weeks, I'm excited to share some writing tips that I follow, as well as my approach to writing. These will be found here, but also in my newsletter (sign up using the form to the left).

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(Clock-wise from left: Leopard Desk Set (including a funny little stickerbook at 6 o'clock; a variety of greeting cards for upcoming holidays and "just because" occasions; and the pièce de résistance, the gorgeous Heritage Writing Kit in "Tulum", especially appropriate as that is where I proposed to Nolan.)

The morning after I received my package, I found myself already finding ways I could use the in my daily life. Each morning, one of us makes coffee for the other. Groggily, I scribbled there was coffee before heading out before Nolan. I came back to blurred ink and coffee rings and a well-loved note that's been our tradition for a couple years now.

The same day, I remembered that I had not written to thank my mother for having us over for Easter. Knowing what it was like to spend so many holidays alone when we lived in California, I always make sure to show my gratitude to my family now. I wrote my note of thanks on the leopard card and popped it in the mail.

And in the afternoon, when I got home, I changed into more comfortable pyjamas and stretched out on my bed, surrounded by library books, the dogs, and an iced Americano. And there I wrote out a note to my best friend, telling her how much I missed her and loved her and was proud of her recently-finished marathon.

A secret look into my bed-top desk drawer: a recipe card, matches, chapstick, and a few stray jelly beans

New Site, Who Dis?

Hey, hi, hello! And since I usually put that I am ~proficient~ in Spanish and French on my resume, I'll add hola and bonjour here for kicks.

I began my blog, Fig+Bleu, three years ago. In those three years, I have only been able to show you one part of myself. One that centered around food, the camera never veering away from the flat lays that I'd post on instagram. The past couple of months, I've began hinting at my desire to step back a bit, as writing was becoming less and less enjoyable to me. In three years, I pigeon-holed myself into only writing about thing I've baked, but often I'm sure you would see my writing would lean towards memoirs. And only tangentially could I connect it back to the recipe I was offering. It became an exercise in showing you guys the whole of myself, while trying to present only the beautiful work I was trying to create. And while I have been very fortunate to work with many brands, it's not the easiest thing to connect a brand of yeast to growing up poor or how much I love my dogs or my background in feminist psychoanalysis. And so I'd, begrudgingly, go back to recipes. Easy content to feed the arbitrary number of four posts a month I'd given myself.

But now, I'm happy to say I pulled the trigger and Fig+Bleu is just one facet of my past. Here, I hope to be able to use this space to write about my life outside of the kitchen. And while baking will still play a large portion of my content, I hope to also provide posts on my style of chicken raising and animal stewardship, my dogs, my fiancé, our house and land, and even a few posts on clothing or my love of stationery. In addition, I'll be writing a newsletter for additional content when the feeling strikes, so make sure to sign up on the left!

So, let me reintroduce you to myself: I'm Brett F. Braley and I'm a writer, baker, photographer, letter writer, dog dad, farmer, and accidental country girl.