I’m so sad Eartha Kitt died–one of my idols. Her music immediately transformed my car, my house, my parties, into complete fabulousness. She transported me to a glamorous world where women are one unto themselves, not needing anyone else to complete them. My best friend
I love this poem by Oriah Mountain Dreamer: THE INVITATION It doesn’t interest mewhat you do for a living.I want to knowwhat you ache forand if you dare to dreamof meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest mehow old you are.I want to knowif you
Tonight Henry smeared blue shaving cream all over his face and growled to me in his meanest voice: I’m a rectangle!” He ran around the house all day wearing a variety of things as capes, from playsilks to my red silk harem pants. He showed
There’s something so stabilizing and powerful about the mountains of Utah. Walking up rocks holding the hands of four toddlers only to emerge at a breathtaking waterfall, a cool spray on my face, moss-covered rocks…so beautiful. This morning Henry swung on the pole of my
Ahh, getting dressed. That age-old ritual. I wonder how it was in caveman times. “Honey? Do you want to wear the fig leaf or the buffalo skin loin cloth today?” Did two-year-old cavebabies shout “No!” at their mothers and throw their bamboo leaf underwear across
The Case of the Chocolate Footprints Today there was a mystery in my house, and we love a good mystery around here. If we can’t find one, we create one. For example: The Case of the Missing Car Keys, The Case of Mama’s Missing Cell
I’m so glad I married the male Martha Stewart. The other night we were decorating a tiny little Christmas tree. I had bought all these beautiful ornaments that looked like candy as I thought the kids would love making a candy tree. We decorated it,
I’m trying to decide what to do for my upcoming 40th birthday next year. 40!! Wow! I never thought I’d see the day. How glamorous and beautiful and terrifying… George wants to throw me a party, and I can’t decide exactly what I want–shocking, I
I found the best bookstore the other day. I’ve passed it a million times but never entered as it’s on a semi-nasty street and covered in grates. I finally entered it and it was like walking into mecca for a book lover like me. Fabulous
I woke up this morning to Annabelle jumping on the bed wearing my baby blue satin bra on her head, the strap tucked under her chin, shouting “I’m a hiker! I’m a hiker!” Henry was soon imitating her saying, “Hiter! Hiter!” A while later, we
