But I wanted to let you know that I’m back. And it was swell. And yes, I will be blogging more, just as soon as my brain solidifies a bit more. There are lots of thoughts swirling around up there, trust me.

In the meantime, some pictures. (Pardon the strangeness of my family.)

To spend some time tucked up cozy between the pages of a few good novels, working out the kinks in my muscles and the aches in my bones. To turn my face sunward, my toes sandward, my ears seaward. There are few ills a week on the Carolina coast can’t cure, fewer worries this island can’t quell.

It has been my summer escape since before I could walk or talk. But it is so much more than a vacation, so much bigger than just the beach. It is the path to the very best bits of your soul. The alive ones, the peaceful ones. It sounds crazy, but that’s only because it’s so much more than words. So intangible it demands a far better artist than myself to paint its likeness.

But once you know, you know. Once you’ve heard the late afternoon drone of insects in the trees, or seen the fish dance in the creek at sunset, or sat on a porch in a rocking chair, or felt the breeze in a hammock, you know.

It’s something about this place. Something so base and so simple but impossible to pinpoint precisely.  But if you come here, you’ll feel it. And like the many we’ve taken here, you’ll find it difficult not to return.

I knew this would happen. I knew it. I start off every summer with big plans and then I blink a few times and it’s August. Seriously, where does summer go? I try to take it in small sips and end up finishing in a couple gulps. Aren’t the days supposed to be longer?

This summer was the first summer of my life where my time was completely my own. When I was a kid, my summers had beautiful structure to them. A few different county day camps, a week or so at each of my grandma’s houses in Philly and New Orleans, a session or two at sleepaway camp and then two glorious weeks at the beach in South Carolina.

But this was first summer where, for the most part, I had all day just to be at my house. Just do… whatever. I didn’t exactly mean for it to be this way. I thought I’d be working at a bakery or a flower shop or heck, even a summer camp, but none of those avenues panned out and I was stuck with a very open summer schedule.

So I planned. I planned to make plans. Weeks filled with writing and art and house projects. Weekends filled with day trips and cookouts and the Great Outdoors. And some of that has happened. We had a great cookout with friends and even a couple neighbors last weekend. We’ve had visits from family, a few day trips to Newport and Portland, ME, spent some time at the beach, went canoeing and I’m even taking a baking class, Andreas’ present to me for my birthday. (I’ll tell you guys more about it later, I’ve only had one class so far. But it was awesome.)

But I had planned even more. I had planned lots more reading and lots more writing. I had visions of spending many an afternoon at the park with a folding chair and a book. Dreams of mornings spent writing at a local cafe and making friends with all the regulars.  I haven’t done any of that. My days get crowded with errands leftover from the weekend, trips to the gym and the bank, cleaning and cooking. It seems like the minute I get through my to-do list I hear Andreas’ footsteps on the deck stairs.

In the beginning of the summer I beat myself up about it. I beat myself up for not trying even harder to get another job for the summer (despite applying to several dozen). I beat myself up for not doing more. For not being more creative. For not having much money in my bank account. For not being more grateful. For, for, for… for everything.

And now I’m feeling done with the summer-long self-pummeling session. Done with all the expectations, held by others, held by myself. Because I realized that I might not get this opportunity again for a very long time. This beautiful gift of time. So if I feel like reading on the deck for an hour instead of blogging, that’s what I’m going to do. And if I feel like blogging instead of planning dinner, blog I will. I won’t neglect those things I must do, but I will accept what it is I feel like doing and deem that as productive. And if I’m filling up my free days with chores so that our weekends are free for living, well, that’s good too.

Yesterday for the first time, I let my to-do list be all chores (somehow chores have become a luxury) and I relished the opportunity to do them in the middle of a weekday, instead of squished uncomfortably into our precious weekend hours. When I got things done, I was proud. When I didn’t, I told myself there would be time later. And then I let myself be done with it.

And that felt good.

It started off as a storage room, really. As our least necessary room, it was where all the “non-essential” boxes got left after the majority of the unpacking was done. I wish I took a picture of it at that time, but imagine this, without the couch, and with half-unpacked boxes strewn everywhere. It was the perfect place because when I got stressed out about how much unpacking was left to do, I could just shut the door and forget about it!

Now let’s talk about that couch. It was the first thing we got for the office and it really became our “starting point,” as all the design shows would say. I found it on a blog called Crocodile Tears that weeds out the best finds from Craigslist Boston. This really was an invaluable resource as we designed this room so thank you, Keyse! Andreas went to pick it up from a guy in South Boston. We think he’s an antiques/vintage stuff dealer because we’ve seen him with a stand at SOWA‘s vintage market.

Anyways, it’s a pretty aesthetically pleasing, mid-century-esque couch. The back part can be straight up, at a 45-degree angle, or lay flat to form a bed (we’ve heard it called a “click clack” couch). Sadly it has no tags and no markings of ANY KIND on it so we have no idea who made it, how old it is, how much it’s worth, etc. But the guy claimed it was from Mohr & McPherson (a fancy Boston antique-y type store). This was easily the most expensive thing we bought for the room at $300.

Next up was figuring out the paint color. As you can see, we were working with a blank canvas…

I really wanted to go bold and dramatic with the color. We were inspired by some images of offices with dark navy blues contrasted with lighter colored furniture and accents so we chose Benjamin Moore’s Polo Blue. We painted the room ourselves back in February and the rumors you’ve heard about painting with dark colors are true – it ain’t easy! The store recommended we start with a tinted primer, which we did. They thought we’d only have to do that plus one can of the actual color, but we ended up having to use two cans of the color (two or three coats total), so I’m not sure if the tinted primer was worth the trouble after all.

After we had the walls done, the next big thing to figure out was the desk situation. We knew we didn’t want just one desk, because we both wanted our own work areas (we’re such good sharers). Then I came across this images on one of my blogs (sorry, don’t know which one now so I can’t give credit. If this is your image, please let me know and I’ll fix it right away!).

We loved the idea of one long surface that forms two work stations, with shelving above it, so we worked out a way to recreate it. We knew we wanted a sort of rustic looking long piece of wood for the surface, so we drove out to a lumber yard in western Mass and had them cut one for us. They only planed one side of it though so Andreas spent many hours sanding it to perfection, and then putting several layers of glossy finish over it. Wait til you see the result. We attached it to the wall with three strong L-brackets that we spray painted black so you hardly notice them against the dark wall. It seems to be holding up pretty well but we know that if we ever hear a loud crash from in here, it will be this enormous piece of wood falling off the wall!

Those are the big features of the room I wanted to explain beforehand. Now on to the reveal!

Ta-da! It is so cool to see it photographed. I look at this photo and think, I can’t believe this is my office! So the wingback chair we got for $15 from an older couple who was moving in Gloucester. The lady told me that it had been in her family for generations. It is definitely well-loved in all the right spots. The side table from a kind of crazy lady in Medford who collects furniture and art with her daughter. I think that was $25. The rug is from West Elm but we got it off Craigslist for $100 I think. Maybes less. The coffee table, also Craigslist, $40. ALL of these we found via Crocodile Tears!

The two framed pieces on the wall are from my parents house… things they didn’t want anymore that I grew up looking at. Of course I wanted them! The globe we found on Etsy for $45, I believe. But check out our latest addition, the chandelier! We knew we wanted something gold or bronze colored and ornate but they’re hard to find and very expensive. This did end up being our second most expensive piece for the room at $145 last weekend but it was so, so worth it! It’s a beautiful fixture and it totally completes the room.

Now for the desk!

The gold star on the wall we got for $5 a long time ago from Home Goods. It used to hang in our old apartment. The filing cabinet is from CB2. That was one of the pricier items too ($150?) but we loved the stark white contrast. Up top there’s a letterpress drawer that I found on Craigslist (yes, all by myself this time) for $20. Under that on the desk is an actual drawer that we found at an antique store on our way home from buying the wood for the desk. Don’t remember how much it was but in the $20-30 range. It has so much character.

Obviously we have yet to figure out a solution for our printer so for now it rests on the floor. The chairs are from our Ikea kitchen table. We have been looking and looking for real office chairs but never found anything we liked but could afford (office chairs are so expensive!). For now I’m happy with these ones. The giant Bombay Sapphire bottle turned desk lamp is a one-of-a-kind thing we sort of made ourselves. My old college roommate passed along the bottle to me ages ago in a fit of, “I’m moving and want to just get rid of it!”. Her loss, our gain! She had collected it when she worked at a restaurant. Anyways, it pretty much sat collecting dust in our storage unit for many years until Andreas got the brilliant idea to turn it into a lamp. I was leery at first but I love the way it looks now!

So that’s the “new” office! What do you guys think?

Now allow me to rewind for a moment. Specifically the part about the 11 day business trip. To Italy. I didn’t let on much around here but those who know me knew: those 11 days were torturous for me. My mom was so worried about me she was actually paying me to find ways to occupy my time. And by that I mean she helped out with the bus ticket to New York.

I mean I was fine. But I just prefer to have him around. To talk with and cook for and just be with. Let’s face it, he’s not only my husband and my best friend, he’s my main human interaction these days. Don’t get me wrong, Milo’s a great listener, and we had many a long chat over those 11 long days, but eventually you come to miss the nods and the “mhmm”s and the “you’re right, honey”s. Even a grunt would suffice.

I was lonely, in a word, even though I tried to keep a schedule and make plans and run errands. And I would have blogged about it but I had this totally rational, not at ALL paranoid fear that someone crazy person would read that I was home alone and come and kill me in the night. I mean, it does happen… maybe. It could.

And when his trip got pushed back an extra day I won’t say I didn’t have a minor breakdown or five but he’s back now and all is right in the world. We bought today what I considered the last big thing we needed for the office: a chandelier. So finally, very soon, you will see the long awaited unveiling of our office, but for now I leave you with a song. Discovered via bloggie favorite Girls Gone Child, this is my new favorite for when I need grounding and a serious dose of gratefulness.

Grateful that he has a job he likes that gives him opportunities to go to beautiful places like Italy. Grateful that I have a roof over my head and doors that lock for when he’s away. Grateful that there are planes that fly safely and swiftly and bring him back to me.

Hey everyone. I’m off to go play in NYC for the weekend. Hopefully I’ll be back next week with some fun stories.

For now I leave you with this awesome firework collage called Explosions in the Sky by papa jesse on Flickr.

Enjoy it. (The weekend I mean.)

Shelley x

Someone recently asked what happened to all the cake baking around here and the answer is: my waistline. My waistline happened. It can’t take it anymore. As much as I love all the cake, I had to put my baking on hold for awhile to slim up a little bit for the summer.

But. There are exceptions. And one of them was last weekend with the 50th birthday celebration for my uncle slash 4th of July party we were going to.

Of course I felt compelled to bake something. My first inclination was a coconut cake, just because I think it’s awesome for summer and it was my godmother’s favorite. But then I saw this incredibly festive cake on i am baker (originally from 17 and Baking) and got the brilliant idea to combine the two.

So a coconut flag cake it was. I took this recipe for basic white cake, added coconut flavoring, and baked three layers in white, blue and red. To make the colors really brilliant, I used these food coloring gels by Wilton that you can get at A.C. Moore.

After cooling them completely, I whipped up some frosting (adding in even more coconut flavoring) and then assembled the cake. I won’t attempt to explain the assembly myself when Elyssa did it so beautifully here, and also demonstrated it on a morning show, which you can watch here.

Okay, not going to lie: this was the most challenging cake I’ve ever made. And it literally took all day. From buying the special ingredients, baking and cooling the layers, making the frosting, and of course the assembly, the total time was almost 12 hours (with a lot of down time in between the steps).

But! It was totally worth it. I presented it as a plain coconut cake, and from the outside it looked just like one.

Then when we cut in – wow! Everyone was so shocked by the brilliant colors and the flag design. And even better? It actually tasted amazing. I made it the day before and I don’t know if it was the overnight sit in the fridge or what but it was incredibly moist and soft with a very distinctive coconut flavor (but not overwhelmingly so!).

This might have to become a July 4th tradition.

It started with a slow waking. Eyes fluttering, I lingered greedily in that luxurious state between sleep and wake and counted my blessings in that moment. The cozy cave of our bedroom, the den of our bed that I burrow into even more deeply when A’s away, pillows stacked all around me. That I left the windows open and could wake up to a cool summer breeze and the chatter of the flock of sparrows that are quickly making our attic their home, much to the cat’s endless frustration. And the sun, peeking in on all sides of the shades. Today started grateful.

Now, tea and toast and strawberry yogurt on the deck. And writing and reading things that inspire me and make me laugh. Today there is time for it all. Time for exercise and cleaning, writing and editing, research and reading. There’s time to plan dinner for when A gets home from his business trip. Time to think about our trip south to Pennsylvania for the 4th.

Even time, as I sit in my chair on my deck at my house, to dream about the future. To relish it in all its open possibility. To lovingly pick up my worries, wrap them up and place them gently on the shelf. They’ve been doing plenty of work these past few weeks.  Today, and maybe tomorrow too, they can rest.

Some days are up and some days are down. Today feels like up. Up, up! Up like weightless. Up like bobbing. Up by choice.

Today is good. So far, I like today.

And at Frog Hollow Farm bakery in the Ferry Building, they stuff their scuffins full of their incredibly yum conserve (in this case, nectarine plum). It was flaky and moist without being delicate, and it was clearly made with some blend of whole grain flours because it had a coarser, nuttier texture to it. Needless to say, I was more than a little impressed with the scuffin (in the background, below. That’s a blueberry tart on the left.).

And yet the whole time I was eating it, I was thinking “I can make this.” I thought, if I can get a whole wheat scone recipe, bake it in a muffin tin, and stuff it full of jam, it could be pretty darn close.

And so, I did. Last weekend, when my mom was visiting. It was my first attempt at replicating another bakery’s work and overall I think they turned out pretty well although I might tweak them a bit next time.

For one, I couldn’t find any type of plum jam or conserve. The closest I got was beach plum jelly, which is delicious, but to me, the mealy viscosity of jam is part of what makes a scuffin, a scuffin. Also, a deeper muffin pan like this one would have allowed for more jam to fit inside. Finally, because I had whole grain pastry flour and buckwheat flour on hand in addition to whole wheat flour (thanks to my new favorite baking book Good to the Grain: Baking with Whole-Grain Floursby Kim Boyce), I sifted those into the mix as well. Next time I might skip the pastry flour though. It did add a delicate, flaky quality to the scuffins that was delicious but that veered away from the original that I was so desperately trying to mimic.

By the way, you can order Frog Hollow’s amazing conserves straight from their website. Here is the one from the scuffin I had. I’m just way too cheap for $9 plus shipping.

Shelley’s Scuffins

Yield: 10

1/3 cup cold butter, cut into small cubes
1 cup whole wheat flour*
1/2 cup whole grain pastry flour
1/4 cup buckwheat flour
3 tablespoons sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 egg, beaten
1/2 cup buttermilk (+ 1-2 tablespoons)
Jam or jelly of your choice

*Can use all whole wheat flour, in which case you would need 1 3/4 cups.

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F and grease your muffin tin.

2. Sift dry ingredients (flours, sugar, salt, baking powder), then cut in cold butter with a pastry blender or strong fork until it resembles a coarse meal.

3. Stir in the egg and just enough buttermilk for the dough to form.

4. Press a lump of dough into each cup of the muffin tin, so that there is a well in the center. Fill with jam or jelly of your choice. Place a few clumps or balls of dough on the top of each scuffin.

5. Bake for 10-12 minutes until golden brown. Immediately remove from the oven and cool for 5 minutes before enjoying.

6. Come back over here and leave a comment on how they turned out!

She was talking about how refreshed and happy she’s been feeling lately and how she partially attributes that to the fact that she’s stopped trying to find fulfillment from her job. Though she works hard, she views the work mostly as a means to an end, and in adopting that approach, she’s found freedom. And as we all know, money may not buy you happiness but freedom sure does. Instead of looking for happiness at work, she’s started creating it in the non-work space of her life. Filling up her hours with music and art and food.

In some ways, I envy her this approach to life. I know it’s one that many people, perhaps even most people, adopt. Just pushing through to get to 5 o’clock. Living for the weekend. You know. Whether or not it’s a survival mechanism, it works for them. And I know it’s true that you can be less than thrilled with your job and still be really contented in life.

For some reason, last year I got this crazy notion that your job should (ideally) be your passion. That you should spend your days doing something you love doing. I knew that didn’t mean that some people couldn’t be happy in jobs that they didn’t love, but I was pretty sure I couldn’t be.

And so I set off on this grand adventure to find my passion, yet here I am six months later, still unsure of where my passions lie, cloudy on the point of what I want to do with my life (or if not with my life, at least with the foreseeable future), and I haven’t even found a way to make money doing things I at least know I enjoy. I’m disappointed and bit embarrassed to report that all I’ve gotten myself is a lot more confused and whole lot more broke. (Damn it!)

So when I came across Caitlin’s post I thought, that’s what I should do! Give myself the freedom to not find my purpose and my fulfillment in what I do for work. Maybe I don’t have a passion. Maybe I just have interests. (I’ve always been a little averse to the word passion in this context anyways.) Maybe I can entertain those interests in my spare time and view my day job as just that – a day job. Not my life, just what I do with my day.

I’m not saying I can’t. And I’m not saying I won’t. But if I do adopt that approach, I think it will mean laying to rest a certain part of me that always hoped for better. That expected better. A little dreaming part of me, my romantic side. That little part thought I would grow up to have a great job that I love. Something that I excelled at. We all dream of that, right? Not just getting by, but being great?

I think about the examples of strong women in my life. Women who cared for their families and worked when they had to to make sure they had what they needed. They didn’t love their jobs but they didn’t really care. That wasn’t the point. It’s almost like a sacrifice but they wouldn’t see it that way. Maybe it’s a generational gap, but I can think of so many women who didn’t even factor in fulfillment when it came to their jobs. They would probably laugh at me for being so bent on this. Work is work, I imagine them saying. Stop trying to make it more than that.

And yet I have never been one to turn a blind eye on anything. I don’t bury feelings. If something is wrong, I want to talk about it. I think a lot. I analyze constantly. I strive to know myself and, once I understand something, I can’t just let it go. In fact I have a problem with letting go in general.

I guess it comes to this: if work can be a means to an end for you, then that’s great. I think there’s a strength and wisdom in that all its own. But if it can’t, if you need more, then you always will. And it will become impossible to deny that. I think I’m one of those contemplative “rare breeds” Nietzsche talks about in his stance on Work and boredom. I am one of those thinkers, one of those sensitive spirits. I do fear work without pleasure. I am choosy and hard to satisfy.

I just hope I don’t remain idle for too long.