Fire Pit Under an Awning: Heat Goes Straight Up
My sister Marnie walked onto my back porch two winters ago, took one look at the little steel fire bowl I’d hauled up from the yard sale on Wheaton Street,…
My sister Marnie walked onto my back porch two winters ago, took one look at the little steel fire bowl I’d hauled up from the yard sale on Wheaton Street,…
Carla stopped dead in my dining room doorway last spring, took one look up, and said, “Isla. Why are there two chandeliers in here. Did one multiply.” She wasn’t wrong…
I own four headboards right now, and not one of them is attached to a bed. There’s an iron one, curled at the top like a fern about to unfurl,…
The reputation coal has around chimineas is that it’s basically wood’s hotter cousin, same fire, just turned up a notch, and you can just swap one for the other without…
I own seven rugs right now. Seven. Two are rolled up under the porch getting slightly damp because I haven’t dealt with them, one has been in the back of…
I own eleven rugs. Eleven. I counted them properly last week while looking for a runner I was sure I still had, laid them all out mentally room by room,…
I think about my fire pit more than is probably normal for a grown woman with a real job. Four nights a week, minimum, March through November, I am out…
Corinne stood in my backyard last Tuesday, hands on hips, looking at the pile of brick I’d hauled home over about six weekends, and said, “Isla. Some of those look…
I torched a two hundred dollar paver with a forty dollar fire bowl, and the worst part is I stood there and watched it happen like it was somebody else’s…
I once dragged a genuinely beautiful milk glass schoolhouse pendant halfway across three counties, got it home, and hung it directly over my clawfoot tub before I’d thought through a…