We are fortunate enough to live walking distance to a grocery store that hardly ever has a long line at the entrance, and which sells the kind of obscure specialty foods that our family regularly consumes.  More often than not, we have been able to get exactly what we need and with relatively little hassle.

I am well aware of what a blessing this is.

Pre-quarantine, I was a daily marketer.  I made the rounds between the Trader Joe’s, the Whole Foods, the Sprouts, the Vons with phenomenal frequency and it was a huge adjustment learning to shop in this new world.  Which, for our family, has meant twice monthly trips to the Costco and the occasional trip to our local market for what we aren’t able to purchase in bulk.

Turns out, the Costco is basically the best store ever.  The selection of organic produce, grass-fed dairy, alternative pantry staples, and household goods at great prices is unparalleled.  Because of these new shopping habits, for the first time in my adult life I proudly have a storage pantry.  I feel just like my great-grandma every time I head to the garage to retrieve a canned good or to fill up the flour jar from the fifty pound bag I bought early on when that was all I could find in the store: prepared and proud of it.

Even in my head, it sounds silly to say, but my life has been changed by this imposed homestay.  For me, it has not been isolating, it has been incubating, an intensely rapid season of personal growth and transformation.  I know I am not the same as I was the first day of quarantine, and I’m glad.  Quite frankly, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Ten years ago, I was carless, bound by the limits of what I could accomplish by bicycle or public transportation, which automatically caused my life to slow way down.  Emet and Jade were little, we lived in West LA, and I look back on those as some of the best days of my life.  I loved the pace of things, the way a trip to the grocery store was an all-day event, or the careful way we’d orchestrate our errands so we’d never backtrack or have too much to carry early on.  It took planning, and an acceptance that we could only do so much.

There are plenty more similarities between that time and this, which to me illustrates the cyclical natures of pretty much everything.  But my point is that I learned some of my most valuable skills during the years I spent living without an automobile, and this time I’m spending without access to the outside world is proving to be every bit as essential to refining those skills and cultivating new ones.

Eventually, this will end.  When and how and what it will all look like are unknown variables, but a day will come when orders will be lifted.  I plan to be ready with all I have learned to step into the world in a more mindful way than before.

For now, though, I’m content in my cozy home with the ones I love, and enormously grateful for good food, curious hands, and the laughter that underscores the majority of our days.

I don’t really like admitting defeat, so having to throw out my first-ever attempt at starting seeds was slightly disappointing.  I refilled the egg carton we’re repurposing as a greenhouse and replanted using a slightly different method than before.  Fingers crossed we get at least a sprout or two instead of close to a dozen duds like last time.

When Roux and I set out to plant this container garden, we really didn’t have any ambitions other than it was spring and it felt like a good “school” activity to do since it’s most definitely something that would’ve happened were he in class.  But now, I’m fully committed and determined to eat at least one porch tomato this summer, if not an entire bowl of salsa.

One thing that did survive the last round are the little illustrations Roux made for each of the seeds we planted.  I had them laminated at my local office shop and we glued a popsicle stick to the back of each.  Once the seeds take and it’s time to transplant the starts to the vessels patiently awaiting their tender roots, we’ll use these as garden markers.

I’d hardly call it a DIY, but it is a simple handcrafted touch that makes an otherwise ordinary item rather special.  Assuming they hold up well enough to use over multiple planting seasons, they will be sweet momentos of the kind of pictures Huckleberry drew with his six year old hands.  I’m looking foward to adding these little treasures to my bountiful collection of rocks painted by my children over the years.

When we first moved to this apartment, I had no intention whatsoever of cultivating a garden and now I’m practically tripping over myself with plans to transform our cement porch into a miniature urban homestead.

You know, assuming I can get the seeds to grow.

I’m a little more than halfway through the Whole30 and I have some thoughts.

First, I gave up on keeping a daily food journal when I realized that what I eat is mostly the same thing every day, and writing it down got pretty boring.  I started the journal as a way for me to keep track, and also to see if I had any great tips or what not.  But mostly I’ve found that I keep myself busy to avoid mindless snacking which is what the Whole30 really comes down to – eating intentionally for nourishment, and that’s it.

Unhealthy patterns surrounding food were modeled for me throughout my childhood in different ways, and it has taken me years of my life to develop what I think is a positive relationship to my body.  I have learned that the way I care for myself on the inside dramatically affects the way I feel about myself on the outside, that when I am being considerate of the choices I make, I am far less likely to maintain a critical conversation in my head.

That isn’t to say that I’m not prone to slipping into bad habits, I am and I do.  The beginning of quarantine was a perfect example of how I immediately turned to comforting myself with sweet treats – I baked my way through pounds of flour and several blocks of cream cheese in a matter of days – and sometimes, it takes something like Whole30 to give my system a little reset.  I always feel better within the first week, a swift reminder of how quickly the body responds.

All that being said, though.  I am counting the days until I can eat a thick slice of homemade sourdough bread slathered with salty butter.  The sourdough starter I attempted to develop a few weeks back did not cultivate the way it was meant to, and I’ve since purchased a gorgeous book on the topic to help me through the learning process.  I figure the remaining days of this challenge will pass just in time for me to get a handle on my leaven and that is yet another example of the benefit of forethought.

Did you know that NASA suggests keeping one houseplant per each 100 square feet of your indoor living space?  Challenge accepted!

I picked up the sweetest little blooming succulent from the farmer’s market over the weekend.  It was our first time at the Mercado since it reopened, and while there I realized it was actually our first time there as a family since moving back to this neighborhood last fall.  We’d gone there with empty bellies, hoping to fill them with prepared vendor foods but, alas, that does not seem to be happening post-quarantine.  Instead, we ate almost an entire bag of sun drenched cherries, their sweet juices reflecting the warmth of midday.  The kids nibbled on a baguette dipped in fresh hummus, and the mister and I treated ourselves to iced coffees from our favorite local shop.

Yes, a relaxing weekend was precisely what I needed to charge into this week at full speed.  I’ve got a fair amount of work ahead of me, a decent chunk of just-for-fun projects I’d like to spend some time developing, and at least three runs I plan on taking.  I’ll admit that I wasn’t able to wait two full days before diving into Inbox Bootcamp, and yesterday I emptied out both my inboxes while waiting for the laundry to dry.  The next challenge in my quest for ultimate organization is archiving both my printed and digital photos.  I’ve uncovered some spectacular vintage images from my childhood, and from when my big kids were my little kids.  I’d love to get them into some sort of album or digital scrapbook, instead of piled (neatly!) in boxes on a garage shelf.

The flock of wild parrots that lives outside our window is performing their morning chorus, which usually means its time for me to get the little boy out the door for a stretch of the legs and a dose of fresh air.  He’s quietly drawing at the moment, though, so I might steal a few minutes to knit before he inevitably announces it’s time for us to “go already, mama.”

I’ve got a good feeling about you, Week 10.  Show me what you got.

It’s after 11 and I’m still in my pajamas, having just finished my second shot of espresso.  I’m sure a third is not too far off.  Jade is tinkering in the garage, the brothers are piled in a single bed reading together, my love is exercising in his office, and I’m sitting here listening to the sounds of a quiet family Sunday.

I can’t quite remember the last time a morning unfolded as slowly as this, and it’s wonderful.  In a little while, I’ll extract myself from my favorite spot and prepare a simple lunch.  Afterward, we’ll set the timer and race about tending to our chores in synchronized fashion, followed by an afternoon of nothing. 

In the book I finished yesterday, the author encourages folks to claim nothing for the something it is.  Nothing, she says, is the white space where ideas are often born.  I practically shouted in agreement as I read this.  Pockets of unscheduled time are a precious resource, and are absolutely essential to my own process.  I need time to think, to recuperate, to enjoy the space I have worked so hard to create.  For me, nothing is one of my favorite things to do.

But!  In order for me to really appreciate having nothing on my agenda, I have to feel like I have earned it.  I’m terrible at sitting still if there is something on my mind, and it’s easy for me to distract myself with busywork or fabricated obligations.  Which makes today even sweeter as there is, quite literally, nothing for me to use an excuse to keep from relaxing.

After nine weeks in quarantine, who could ask for anything more?

I once read in a design magazine that it is best to wait six months after moving into a new place before making any big changes.  In this way, you’re able to get a better sense of the way the light streams (or doesn’t), the way the traffic flows in the space, how rooms are actually used, that sort of thing.  This was ages before I had ever lived in a place of my own – pretty sure I was still in high school when I read this tip – so it was all abstract advice at the time.

When we first moved into this place, it was on a short-term lease which is what I wanted at the time.  As the terms were drawing to a close, I requested and was granted a lengthy extension.  Knowing we were going to be here for the next little while was an important conduit to settling as we have, and I credit the rapidity with which things fell into place with having lived here for just over six months and having a pretty clear idea of how we needed the space to work for us.

And work for us, it does.  I’ve quickly become the kind of lady who vacuums the entire house as part of the nightly bedtime ritual, collecting the day’s dust and giving thanks for how perfectly functional and attractive our tiny apartment palace has turned out to be.

All in all, we acquired very little by way of this renovation.  Mostly, it was a purging of what we didn’t need and a shuffling of what we already had with the addition of three extremely significant elements – the bookshelf and dresser in the kids’ room, and the workstation in mine.  We replaced the rug we had under the bunkbeds with something that works much better and is so much prettier to look at, we hung a few strands of inexpensive lights, and we mounted a generic piece of peg board in the kitchen.  Beyond that, most of what we spent went toward shelving in the garage which has paid for itself in spades if you ask me.  I haven’t crunched the exact numbers, and frankly it doesn’t interest me, because all that really matters is that we had a shoestring budget to work with, we did not overspend, and even if we’d spent a million dollars I don’t think it could have turned out any better than it did.  I’m over the moon, and can’t wait for the big kids – who’ve been with their dad for the past week – to finally get to see the end result.

On April 21, I started a project breakdown which I called “our tiny apartment reno” and I gave myself the end date of 6/30.  Today, we are halfway through May and the things remaining on that list are either minor details (find a non-hideous kitchen mat), are things I’m not interested in purchasing online (frames), or tasks that require additional help.  Basically, we’ve finished all we can and about six week ahead of schedule.  Add to that the fact that the garage – which wasn’t originally factored into this project and had a separate deadline of it’s own, my birthday – is also done, more than two months prior to when I’d thought it’d be finished.  Good stuff.  Addicting stuff.  I can totally see why flipping houses is a thing people do.  It’s a little bit magic, and I look forward to doing it again.

Even more, though, I look forward to living into this space we’ve created, watching it transform with the seasons.  I said to my husband last night that I’d spent the last several years thinking our time living on Eagle Street was going to be our good old days, but it turns out they are just getting started.

For the second consecutive week, I haven’t necessarily gotten to everything I set out to do each day, but come Friday, my entire to-do list has been tackled even if not precisely on schedule.  I’ve casually slipped into a season of high productivity, and I plan to ride the wave as long as it lets me.

Next week, it will be one month since I switched over to using the Get To Work Book as my primary paper planner.  I am hooked, and there’s no going back.  I’m not sure I’ll entirely divorce the system I use when it comes to planning for school, but as for my personal agenda, I couldn’t be more pleased with how this has helped me focus and, well, get to work.  I mentioned yesterday that I plan to tackle my overcrowded inbox and it is through the help of this course, which is designed by the same gal who produces the product line that is anchored by my new planner.  I have a feeling it’s going to be an excellent investment in amplifying and streamlining my digital communication skills (including organization), and I can’t wait to get started.

But first, the weekend!  It’s a special one because, after three weeks of madness, there is actual space to relax.  As eager as I am to move onto the next thing, I know how good it will be for me to allow that next thing to be enjoying a few days of downtime with my family.

Thank goodness it’s Friday.

I am choosing to completely ignore the fact that curbside pick-up is once again available at my local IKEA, which means that I could have waited to purchase what I ordered, avoided the cost of delivery, and I probably would have ended up with my pieces sooner than when they are scheduled to arrive today.

Nevertheless, I am almost certain that if there hadn’t been such a long delay (22 days, I counted), I probably would not have blazed through every other thing on my very detailed to-do list.  The fifty bucks I paid to have the stuff shipped is a tiny sum to spend on an entire home renovation, if you ask me.

Which is exactly what happened here.  We have completed Phase One of our tiny apartment palace renovation, which I only happened to realize after I woke up this morning and thought to myself, “Now what?”

As someone who is notoriously terrible at finishing the projects I frequently start, tackling this project in itself was a big accomplishment, but completing it?  Monumental.

That our home became styled as quickly as it did, though, surprises me more than the fact that I got through all those boxes and piles in a snap.  I’d spent a long time thinking I didn’t have much sense for a well crafted living space, and turns out that is not the case.  Rather, I hadn’t ever felt settled enough – in myself – to make the effort.

I think as grown ups, it’s really easy to forget that although it isn’t not as easily apparent to the eye as when we were children, we are still growing.  Undoubtedly, this does not reflect outwardly in my appearance in any way, but inwardly I am aware of a strong sense of having expanded into something greater than before.  I’m sure there are days when the house will get away from me, as is the case over the course of normal, daily life.  But I know deep in my bones that ever after, I will maintain an organized, thoughtfully curated, inviting living environment.  Nothing compares to feeling at home in our home.

Except maybe the extreme gratification of hard work leading to a job well done.  I’m planning on taking the rest of this week to enjoy the fruits of our labor before diving headfirst into the next major project I’ve had on my one-of-these-days list: Inbox Zero.

And, I promise.  Just as soon as the dang truck gets here (the official four hour delivery window begins in fifteen minutes, so we’re getting very close!), and that workstation gets built and organized, I will put together a little virtual tour – my first ever.

Off to take the little one for a ride in the car with the windows rolled down because Quarantine, continuing her streak of quizzical alchemy, has made that routine activity a full blown adventure.

I’ve adopted no less than three houseplants in as many days, a new personal best.  I walk around the apartment, marveling at all we have managed to accomplish in what certainly must be record breaking time, bursting with gratitude for just how great it actually all turned out to be.

Every last silly idea I had (Paint a chalkboard in the hallway? Sure!  Hang bistro lights in the kids’ room? Why not!) has been executed with the utmost willing support from my sweet Mister Baker, who was so patient with me as I fussed about which painting should go where and never ever complained when he probably wanted to.  Hammering this, building that, carrying all the things that are far too heavy for me to manage, he’s really been my hero lately and it gives me the very best kind of butterflies.

I will always remember this time as precious.  And I’m not even talking about quarantine.  This time of settling, of coming together and making something spectacular for our family to enjoy, has been an outstanding experience.  I’m almost sad it’s coming to a close, though it makes me insanely excited to do it again – only next time, it will hopefully be in a house of our own.  For now, I take great pride in knowing we have absolutely managed to make the most out of this tiny apartment palace of ours and I simply could not be more delighted with the man who helped me do it.

I did not sleep well at all, and have been in a bit of a funk all day, though I did not for one second allow this to prevent me from speeding through each of the things on today’s to-do list.

At long last the shipping notification for my IKEA order landed in my inbox, and as it turns out, my workstation will be the very last element to finishing off the first part of our tiny apartment palace renovation.  The energy inside our living space has been entirely transformed, and I’ve suddenly become the person that vacuums twice a day because seeing the floors shine back at me is my current favorite thing.  And yes, the rug is even better the second day.

I’d be fooling to think it a coincidence that I finished up a huge, cathartic project right before receiving some unexpected news that suddenly has me carefully contemplating what’s next. 

Currently, I have many more questions than answers.  But what I do know for certain is that my home life has never been better.  Absolutely everything else is secondary anyway, so really, I’m already ahead of the game.