Fire Pit on Grass: Protecting the Lawn
I own six separate things whose entire job is to stop my fire pit from murdering my lawn. Six. A heat resistant mat that lives folded in the shed for…
I own six separate things whose entire job is to stop my fire pit from murdering my lawn. Six. A heat resistant mat that lives folded in the shed for…
I own six trays whose entire job, their entire professional purpose in my home, is to sit on top of one dressing table and hold things. Six. I counted them…
I own six dining room sideboards right now, if you count the one currently living in a storage unit in Daly City because I couldn’t bear to donate it and…
I counted it once, out of boredom more than curiosity, and the number stuck with me: I open or reach into my own TV stand shelves about nine times a…
I bought my first ceramic vase off a pottery marketplace site four years ago, before I knew anything, and the listing said fourteen inches tall. I remember because I measured…
I was pulling my green wool coat off the rail on a Tuesday morning in October, already running late, and it smelled like the inside of a gym bag that…
I own fourteen glass vases. Fourteen. I counted them properly last week while packing for a shoot, laid them all out on my kitchen island like some kind of crime…
I counted eleven times last Tuesday. Eleven times I walked past my own display cabinet and adjusted something by maybe half an inch, then walked past it again ten minutes…
I own six floor vases and precisely one of them has ever held an actual flower. The other five have held branches, a rolled up rug I didn’t know where…
My mom walked into my apartment in October, took one look at the vase in the corner, and said, “Did something die in there?” Not unkind, just accurate. It was…