The week started with an improbable chain of events — a student driver cut me off, and I hit the brakes — which led to a dozen eggs flying across my car, which led to a clean-up where I inadvertently let the raw egg whites from the car mats drip all over the floors of the house. The drips dried into tiny fresco-like reminders of how quickly things can unravel. Renaissance painters knew the power of egg whites as a binding agent; I discovered their tenacity while on my hands and knees with a scraper on the kitchen floor.
Then came the devastating news that a friend has cancer and that my sister needs surgery. The chaos of the political situation was driven home when one of my children asked me, "Why aren’t we doing anything?" and again when my 1st grader reported that a classmate had asked, "Did you know there is a war going on in America - what side are you on?" My jaw dropped - after a moment, I replied that in a community, there are no sides; that in our family, we help anyone in need. And we talked about all the times other people have helped us and the times we’ve helped others.
Then came the minor but still painful chaos of our plumber in a backhoe inadvertently destroying my favorite garden bed (the Russian sage! the poppies! the bleeding hearts!). And just as I was already coming unglued from all of this, I had a ridiculous fight with my husband, where I accused him of buying a terrible refrigerator— just to give you a sense of how inane fights can be when you're already at your limit.
This is the kind of week when I question everything, including this newsletter. What place does this small collection of beautiful things and tiny joys have in a world that feels increasingly fractured? Is sharing design discoveries and garden updates tone-deaf when friends are facing serious illness and we all struggle to understand what’s happening in our country?
Yet, I kept coming back to why I started writing this newsletter in the first place. One of the constants of my life—the organizing principle for how I decide to spend my time—is that I want to be of use. I love nothing more than solving a problem or answering a call for help. This newsletter has become my way of being of (modest) use. The fact that enough of you have chosen to subscribe to make this my part-time job humbles me daily. I take this and you seriously. Here are a few things that caught my eye and offered brief respite in a difficult week.
Reading Notes
As a follow-up to last week’s post on digital overload, I can report that the first morning that I attempted to not immediately pick up my phone, I held out for a mere 13 minutes. That was eye-opening! I kept at it this week, however, and made it a whooping hour and 45 minutes one day. Then, this morning, I really wanted to just enjoy the internet, and so I did. Progress, not perfection, shouldn’t that be our mantra in all things?! Changing my evening phone routines has strangely been much easier - I now charge my phone in the kitchen instead of by my bedside. It was as simple as trying it, and I haven’t looked back. I have cut back on my doomscrolling significantly, and I’ve been going to sleep about an hour earlier than my usual midnight. I’ll take all the small wins offered in this life. Another digital update is that I muted “suggested” content on Instagram, and wow - it’s so nice to have less “noise” there. The algorithm is insidious. I’m loving seeing the excellent House & Garden feed again. Highly recommend trying out the mute function if you aren’t already. Finally, if you need some laughter, we’ve been enjoying Ludwig on BritBox and Have I Got News For You?
Design Notes
A. We stumbled across a new bookstore in our town on Friday night - Tim found Plants for The Winter Garden.
B. and I was charmed by Emily Lex’s watercolor workbooks.
C. This little espresso machine makes me smile - my sister would love it.
D. Grace Atwood linked to Housebound in her Saturday Group Text newsletter, which is one of my favorite weekend morning reads. These candlesticks caught my eye!
Found Objects
E. Nothing surprises me as much as how I’ve grown to love a hat; I spent decades simply … not wearing hats of any stripe. No longer - I’ve got quite the collection now. While I don’t need either The Garden Club or the Marching On Together hat - I like them!
F. Some of the best nights of my New York life were spent at The Russian Tea Room. This tee is high on my wish list as is this “Second Rodeo” tee.
G. If life is all about the little joys, mini eggs are definitely one of my seasonal delights.
As I reel from this week's events and grapple with how to stop the inescapable sense of being in a free fall, here's what continues to anchor me: in the midst of all this chaos, there is connection. The laughter with friends over my egg disaster. The intimacy of my conversations about cancer. The way my husband and I moved past our refrigerator fight to a better understanding of how to navigate disagreement. The connection that comes from asking for help (and getting it). The joy and privilege of being able to help others in turn. The way that even in the shittiest of times, we have each other.
Sunday Daily Dose of Green

Bonus Notes - Paid Subscriber Section
I often have a few finds that don't fit into the main image (my favorite part of the newsletter and the hardest to get ‘right’) or the overall flow. Each week, I put a few bonus finds here for paid subscribers as a thank you.
I went to a lacrosse game at a local private high school and logged into the wifi - and it tickled me how suddenly all my Instagram ads were for a ton of new-to-me brands. Ahhhh, the algorithm - sometimes it’s less insidious and more fun. Neon Tigers Silk Scarf
I’ve been on the hunt for a new pair of heels for outdoor events (where the terrain is often … uncertain). I’ve tried countless pairs and these were the winner by a (country) mile.
Are you on to the delight of the chocolate at ALDI?
These petite jeans from Mother are excellent!
So far I’m loving everything I’ve tried from Sarah Creal - no scent and my skin … looks amazing. I’m truly not a lotions and potions person but these might make me one.
I hope you found this newsletter short, sweet, and interesting! If you enjoyed it, consider clicking the ❤️ button — it really does help other like-minded readers discover my writing (oh, algorithms!). And, if you’re feeling chatty, know that it is a true joy to read your comments - they make me feel less like I’m just typing into the glowing void of my laptop screen and more like I’m having a conversation with you.
If you find yourself opening this newsletter often with anticipation, if this newsletter made you notice a small joy or think about something slightly differently, I hope you’ll consider upgrading to a discounted paid subscription for $2.08 a month or join the Design Scouting Circle for $100 a year.
Of course, I can’t pay for all the newsletters I love - who could?! - but I still want to support those writers on occasion. If that resonates with you, too, you can make a one-time donation, too.
I love your newsletter and I’m so glad you are here writing it. ❤️
I love your newsletter! I don't read the papers on Sunday anymore because I use the time to absorb everything in Abbey Goes Design Scouting. It is so refreshing and lovely to follow your small joys. Your week sounds horrible but you keep going with humor which is a wonderful thing. The world may be uncertain but your world is still full of joy that you share with others. Thank you.