laura
cope

Don’t mind if I do

I accidentally left these little delights in a hot car the other weekend, but no loss: I ate the chocolate goo out of the bag like a Push-Pop, tonguing the plastic zippered part to get every last ounce.

But look what greeted me at the Denver airport last weekend! A first-class pass to mess-free candy land.

Sunday press pot

Yep, still my personal tablista.

side eye

for the woman who cut off a foot of my hair when i asked for a trim.

Knotty, knotty pine

I replaced the landlord’s garish miniblinds with cheap green curtains last year and now the place feels like a dungeon, complete with a two-ton, 1,000-year-old fireplace with cracks from the 1989 earthquake.

Saffron and Genevieve, a shelter shop in my neighborhood that’s every bit as charming as it sounds, had someone come over last week to recommend new window treatments for the wood-paneled palace.

But recent overcast skies have me bustin’ out the blankets and the French press and curling up like it’s winter again, and on days like these my toasted knotty pine doesn’t seem so wrong.