of instructions for Saturday greatness

Hullo, there.  So terribly sorry to intrude. I know you’re awfully cozy there on the couch in your weekend pants, nesting in a mound of unfolded laundry in a pancake coma. But I just thought… Continue reading →

of magical festival times at Tweetakt

Springtime in Utrecht means one thing: return of the festivals! During the year,  the Neude square is an empty cobblestoned triangle lined with mucky benches. But for ten days every spring, a group… Continue reading →

of blah extermination, or DIY shoe graffiti

Sometimes it feels like I’m coasting on dreamy weekend vibes until Wednesday. My trusty steed Lotje and I have been floating around town, stoned on unexpected March sunshine. I’m not sure you’ve met… Continue reading →

of everyday beauty

I dare you to claim a snatch of beauty from your routine today. Here’s mine. Tomorrow I’ll be bringing you part 2 of our Scandinavian escapades, but for now, a very happy Friday… Continue reading →

of Copenhagen, or a vacation-vibe refresher

It’s that time of year. The last of the Christmas holiday vibes have faded, you’re thoroughly entrenched again in work, and you flip through the pages of your weekly agenda wondering sadly, Is… Continue reading →

of the wee hours

  chin propped on blunt-butted knee loitering fingers on prudish keys the fat hand of the kitchen clock lobs itself from 2 to 3 and I go on planting words in the night’s… Continue reading →

of minding the gap, or the mad middle men

Poodle skirts. Bodacious beehive hair. Pastel kitchen appliances. Midcentury décor. Man Men frenzy. The 50’s are back with a vengeance, and it’s no wonder – they were utterly charming. And this charm is… Continue reading →

of winter and make-believe

When Lucy stumbles into the magical land of Narnia, she finds it in a state of perpetual, bitter cold – a curse has made it always winter but never Christmas. How I envied… Continue reading →

of citrus and wistfulness

We made a cake last night, me and my trustiest baking pal. We zest oranges and sift flour. We watch through the spattered oven window as the layers golden, and we fan our… Continue reading →

of a robust whine

Join me, please, in some unhinged whining. Let’s rant. Let’s rave. Let’s bemoan things. Because when the lining of your stomach is bruised by the high-octane shock of French-pressed caffeine and when you’re… Continue reading →