< two fifty: life in a tiny apartment.

store thoughtfully.

we've moved together four times in five years.

in every new space, there's a temptation to rush to the local container store and buy a new solution. the perfect shelf for that perplexing 10" deep closet, or a shoe rack that fits just-so in the wardrobe your landlord lent you.

but if you're anything like us and you haven't exactly found your dream home, it's worth a pause.

right now, we have two beautiful old soda crates hidden in our closet where nobody can see them. they're filled with shoes and towels and it's kind of a shame that they're not getting time in the limelight. but i think of it this way: chances that the perfect solution for one apartment will be perfect in the next are super slim; so i might as well invest in something nice to look at, even if it is hidden for awhile. and in the next apartment? maybe we'll have more than 250 square feet. if that day comes, i'd rather have a beautifully patinaed crate to show off than one of those awful plastic drawer thingys.

{post script. living in new york city means your clogs get really dirty. alas}.

stinky mornings.

i realize that some of you are currently debating the mental health of a woman so utterly enamored by her lackluster breakfasts, but i can't help myself. and besides, i think i might be letting you in on a secret that you don't know.

i eat stinky cheese for breakfast.

if james and i enjoy a triple-crème after dinner, you can bet your bottom dollar i will be sneaking downstairs in the morning to smear the remainders on a slice of toasty baguette. long before i ever set foot in france, my french godmother would make me stinky tartines for breakfast and i've been hooked ever since.

anyone else?

other things:
our favorite stinky cheese shop.
if thinking about tartines has gotten you wanderlusty, head here.

the dumpster project.

this fantastic project caught my eye on a sunday stroll. the dumpster project: an archive of objects from one man's life, each catalogued with a story. couldn't be more up my alley. read more about the project here. and if you're in the neighborhood, take a peek yourself.

a hard roll with butter.

i get it. it's just a roll. a white flour roll smothered in butter that's more than a few steps removed from the farm {i'm being generous here}where it was made. but to me, it's perfect. all wrapped up in that white paper, the feeling of the roll in my hand at 27 is the same as it was when i was 6. the anticipation of its chewy, salty perfection. it's a regional thing, i'm pretty sure. and for me at least, a special treat. the same now as then, only now rather than my dad placing the order and handing the package down from the height of the deli counter, i waltz in myself and order. a hard roll with butter, please and thank you.

one hanson place

it's a funny habit: snapping pictures of beautiful things in faraway places and neglecting the spaces right under our noses. i used to be better about it, but lately i've gotten out of the habit. hoping having weekends off will change all that. in the meantime, a few photos of the old stones i found lovely at one hanson place, home of the brooklyn flea.

office board & old souvenirs

we took a stroll through the met this weekend and stumbled upon these paintings in the new american wing. i'm sure i don't have to explain my love for them to all of you. you know it's true. and yes, it's worth the trip to the museum to see the real deal.

planning to find myself some pink ribbon and recreate my very own. i'm not very good at pinning things in a virtual space, anyhow.

paintings by John F. Peto (1854–1907).
images courtesy of the metropolitan museum of art.

friday.

it's the end of my first workweek at home, and most importantly, the first friday in nine months when i have an entire weekend without work to look forward to.

i'm already jonesing for something drenched in maple syrup and a slow stroll through a museum. on sunday, james is treating me to my very first massage. two words: hot stone.

i'm as happy as a clam. whatever that means.

other things:
an exhibit.
a brunch spot.
i guess i need this.