why the happy dance?

September 23, 2013


why am i writhing, supine, cackling like a baby, double bottle-fisted with his mama’s warm milk?


that’s right kids.

it’s here:

light up those scented, sugar cookie candles and stow away the gardenia-heavy perfume; it’s time to find your fall.


saturday we purchased our pumpkins; we’re the last peeps on the street to take down our christmas tree, might as well be the first ones with pumpkins on the stoop.


this weekend the darker skies arrived a bit earlier; revealing a magnificent, wise, harvest moon.

fall hatches a poise and practicality that lacks come summertime; june through august we gadabout and celebrate the whimsical & oftentimes careless part of our complexions.

now is the time for hunkering down, finishing tolstoy, and dusting off the beach pit grime from our suntanned brain cells.


pretty soon rubber flip-flops will make way for leather boots; skimpy, strappy tanks bypassed for chunky, thick knit sweaters.

fall fashion is undeniable.


autumn is the time to curl up with someone, a beast, or just a book, and burrow into a corner somewhere under a warm, flannel blanket; ignoring chores, emails and to-do lists.


and let’s not forget tailgating.

fill that thermos with cider-hot, and pack a picnic chock full of golden, sweet anjou pears and crispy pippin apples, all at their peak.


are you a fool for fall too?

what are your favorite ingredients in this spicy, cozy season.

dumb girl down….

August 13, 2013


so here’s the story:

sunday, in an effort to keep up with the hard tail’d and lululemon wearing elite, you know? the ones who eschew marathon napping, emotional eating, and reality-tv in exchange for extra time at the gym in half-moon pose, kettle-belling until the cows come home; i awakened, not a renewed sense of peace and flexibility, but a freddy krueger-like rip down the right side of my leg.



i’ve taken to bed and to drinking.

drinking sangria that is.

conveniently stacked alongside the summer peaches, whole foods shrewdly introduced their new organic, super-fruit sangria yesterday to all of us wanna-be healthy, but would rather just pop a pill or write about it instead-posers. {me}

i’ve said this before booze does not do a katie good. i wish i had better luck with it, but one glass of wine, and i typically end up with mike tyson face and mike tyson rage.

but if this sangria meant i didn’t have to chop and rinse my fruit for a day….what’s a black-eye or two?

eppa supra fruta sangria is made with real, certified organic anti-oxidant rich fruits such as acai berries, mediterranean blood oranges, blueberries, and pomegranates.

a half of a glass and i had forgotten about my injured hip.

unfortunately that memory lapse led to me roger-rabbiting in the hallway, picking a fight with an errant mosquito, and losing my balance on a bathmat.


in preparation for my upcoming summer holiday i’ve started maine by j. courtney sullivan.

 it’s a very easy, readable, summer novel.

i’m not sure it can hold a candle to colony though.

read my junior year in high school, colony was where i first fell in love with the idea of maine.

and it’s also where i first got the bug for the “beach read.”


so back to my injury.

i’ve been advised to ice, massage, and rest my hip.

but, so far, i prefer my remedy of eating homemade strawberry shortcake instead.

 i AM 7lbs heavier than i was on friday.

tuesday happy to you m’loves.

all photos taken by katie osumi

with love

May 21, 2013




“history is orphan. it can speak, but cannot hear. it can give, but cannot take. its wounds and tragedies can be read and known, but cannot be avoided or cured.” 
~kedar joshi

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