Are you able to tell when you have enough?

Kimber: Nope. If anyone has tips for developing this particular power of discernment, please do share.

Charity: Not to go all Confuciun on this answer, but the more I have, the more I think I need. The less I have, the more I realize I can live without.

Liberty: I'd like to say yes, but after a recent joyous conversation (partially motivated by 3 glasses of champagne), that concluded in a fit of public tears...the most accurate answer is probably closer to no.

Mercina: Probably not. This question makes me think of a diet Glorianna and I went on a few years ago. We attempted to eat only fruit. But after a few days we were feeling pretty woozy and indulged in some cookies. By indulged I mean we ate until we got sick. And we both felt awful for the rest of the day. Yeah, no.

Glorianna: Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean I stop.


I know I've been inattentive, but my reasons are pretty awesome...

Thank you for ALL of your support. If you've yet to order an album, visit the store at

ALSO ... 

As timing would have it, the American Grace Giveaway is going to happen this weekend. Enter before we hit 400 followers on Instagram for a chance to win a gorgeous dress just in time for the opera balls this fall, since of COURSE, we're all going to ALL of the opera balls. Why I found that so amusing, I really do not know but I did so I'm gonna stay with it. 

Even though we've all been remiss in writing, we love you. You're awesome. Thanks for visiting us when we're blogging bums. We will be better. Just like the campaign. xoxo 


Bookclub Bites

Before anything... Go and get American Grace at It drops tomorrow and it's gonna be epic.


A recipe request from Paige:

Kimber's Stuffed Figs*

A dozen figs
aged English cheddar with truffles (not too spendy from Trader Joe's!)
honey from Dave's hive on the roof (I suppose honey from a jar would work in a *pinch*)
balsamic vinegar reduction
flower pepper to garnish

1. Slice figs in half, longways. If you're feeling ambitious, grill them, seeded side down on a hot, lightly greased pan with a sprinkling of sugar for about 30 seconds.

2. Place about a teaspoon of cheese on each fig -- 12 with truffled cheddar and 12 chèvre. 

3. Drizzle balsamic reduction** on figs with chèvre and top with strips of prosciutto.

4. Garnish cheddar figs with local honey. 

5. Grind flower pepper over the whole yummy lot of them.

6. Eat one or two before your guests arrive, so they don't feel bad taking the first gorgeous morsel, which actually might taste even better than it looks.

7. Impress everyone.

*edited to include the REAL recipe -- nice try, Charity!
**reduction: a cup of balsamic vinegar with a half cup of sugar on medium heat until it reduces in volume by 50%

Mug shot.

We got into a little trouble this weekend... 


Favorite Words

Con (kən : Latin) – with, together.
Sidereus, -a, -um (si- ˈder- ē- üs : Latin) – stars, starry, gleaming.
Consideration (kən-ˌsi-də-ˈrā-shən : English) – careful thought, meditation; 
the act of bringing together stars.

My mind is a universe, filled with asteroids and empty space and old satellite parts. It also has a few stars. Sometimes at night I’ll shut my eyes and stare up at the domed vault of my skull, admiring the lights shining in it like holes poked into black construction paper with a sharpened pencil tip. As I look, white points align and then realign, grooving iridescent ghosts into the dark matter through which they travel. I comprehend little red planets winking as their orbits shift with my mere thought of them. Every so often, a new star spins into existence out of free floating star stuff, adding a digit to the factorial number of constellations available for my creation. Once or twice, I’ve had to shield my eyes from the burning light of a supernova burst; the incredible bright death of a sure thing.

I am a sort of divine mover, a type of creator. The god of my own mind-sky. I collect celestial dust from books and long walks and conversations overheard on subway cars, until there is enough of it and heat and light to compact into something called knowing. Then, I can observe. I connect bright dots in the sky. I consider.


What's your favorite word? Why?



my father's campaign sign, and one of the flags that flew over the capitol during my grandfather's memorial service. 
This June marks a number of anniversaries for our little family: two-years married, one-year in Denver, and six-months in our cute li'l bungalow. Everything is settling. The sensors in my brain that used to tingle at the freshness of my surroundings have quieted. The new state of consciousness that has taken over is, perhaps, a duller awareness, but it is certainly no less delicious. 

It is one of belonging. I am surrounded by people and things I chose, and continue to choose. I am responsible for them, they are mine. Every morning I wake up knowing where I will be, with the same sweet arm around my waist, and the sun cutting through the same thin curtain. On Saturdays there is chai. On Sunday, a bike ride through the park. My life is a tread, rolling through the seasons, held steady by love and place. It is a joyous routine.

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