AT THIS MOMENT, Mark, our internet service provider engineer, is upstairs installing our new service, replacing Alexa and a year and a half of a very slow and spotty connection once and for all, we hope. We are meeting this new year head-on and have decided to be a little more proactive with things, and so far it seems to be working. This week's links are late, late because have been wrapped in mundane administrative tasks that have piled up until they were no longer avoidable ...
THINGS HAVE BEEN a bit stressful lately―our site is full of holes at the moment where images should be (long story); I am currently locked out of the TIG facebook account (Does anyone have a fix for this?); and the pandemic is taking hold again...
JUST FINISHED reading "Little Fires Everywhere" by Celeste Ng and didn't really like it. After finishing Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens, which was beautifully written, Little Fires seemed much more utilitarian in its writing style, which is fine if things hadn't ended so abruptly and with so many things unresolved.
IT’S FINALLY BEGINNING to feel like summer is on the way, and already, there are roses in bloom all around town. With all the bright sunshine comes a feeling of hope, and daydreams of road trips to see castles and visits to quaint village pubs and trips to new places we’ve never been ...
I AM NOT EXACTLY sure what it is that I am so drawn to in House & Garden columnist Rita Konig's farmhouse, other than the fact that it is in County Durham and that we are also currently living in the English countryside ...
THIS WEEKEND WE watched two films: Knives Out (Rian Johnson, 2019) and Marriage Story (Noah Baumbach, 2019) and both were really good. Knives Out was fast-paced and funny and great fun to try to figure out, while Marriage Story was deeply moving and heartbreaking and made me cry several times.
ONE OF THE THINGS we’re most often asked about is where we find inspiration, and the answer is never a simple one, for inspiration is everywhere. It’s at the art gallery on a Tuesday morning, just after coffee; it’s in a holiday shop window ...