Wildflower & Lavender Notes

 “There are no ordinary moments.”

As I get older, I’ve shifted—showing up with intention. I know that sounds a little generic, but it feels different in a way that is hard to explain. For as long as I can remember, I keep lists in my head. Constant. Relentless. I’ve always been that way and, all honesty, probably always will. But before, it’s been a race. Like the goal was to power through, check things off, and move on to the next thing as quickly as possible. There wasn’t much pausing, and definitely not much celebrating. If I had a project, I saw the vision, broke it down into manageable tasks, and worked my way through. More often than not, with a challenge (a puzzle to resolve) added as a bonus along the way (I am being facetious). This happens with every project I take on. Keeps things interesting. I get things done—but I didn’t always experience them like I should have.

“The journey is what brings us happiness, not the destination.”

Now, even something as simple as breakfast is different. I love eggs any way you make them, but my favorite has always been over-easy—the kind where the yolk spills out golden the moment you cut into it. If I’m being honest, my favorite favorite is over-easy eggs on toast with Swiss cheese and just a little mayo. Anyway, I make my runny eggs with a few slices of bacon. It’s simple, high in protein, and still feels indulgent in its own way. It’s not just about what I’m eating—it’s about actually noticing it, enjoying it, and even my dogs get to partake of some of that delicious bacon.

Dinner is much the same. My favorite is ribeye, and I make it in the simplest way possible. With a cast-iron skillet, butter just beginning to melt, salt and pepper on each side, and that’s it. I cook it exactly how I like it, add one last pat of butter on the final turn, and then let it rest for a couple of minutes while everything settles.

While the steak is resting, I’ll take asparagus and cook it in a pan with my rosemary and garlic olive oils—the kind that fills the kitchen with that warm, herby aroma that makes everything feel a little elevated without any extra effort. The asparagus softens just enough, still with a little bite, coated in that savory, fragrant oil, with salt and pepper sprinkled for good measure. And yes… I dip those asparagus spears in a little mayo. Just enough to feel indulgent without completely undoing my good intentions. It’s my quiet little luxury, and I enjoy every single bite of it.

When I finally sit down to eat, it feels like something special—not because it’s elaborate, but because I’ve taken the time to savor the process. The richness of the ribeye, the simplicity of the asparagus, the hint of rosemary and garlic lingering in the air—it all comes together in a way that feels intentional. What used to feel like “finding something to eat” now feels like a small ritual, something I look forward to rather than rush through.

And then there’s my hair, which feels like a whole chapter in itself. I had been coloring it since I was about eighteen, always the same shade, always maintaining that version of myself. But as I got older, my hair changed. The gray started coming in and my natural hair color was more resistant to the hair color. So I made the decision. I cut my hair short—shorter than I had ever worn it before. There was a transition period where I had that bleached tips kind of look, which was kinda cool, but it still took some getting used to. Looking in the mirror and seeing me, but not me, a different version of me was no small thing.

Now, my hair feels really soft. I’m still figuring out how to style it as it grows, but there’s a freedom in not having to color it every couple of months. It’s one less thing to maintain, one less thing to keep up with, and more importantly, it’s growing on me (funny pun!). It’s interesting how much thought and emotion can go into changing something you’ve done your entire life, but once you do, it opens the door to seeing yourself differently.

That same sense of intention shows up all around my home now. My bedroom is one of my favorite rooms, and making the bed each morning feels less like a chore and more like setting the tone for the day. The girls love it too—well, in their own way. Lucy is perfectly content curling up on top of a pile of pillows like she owns the place. My current project, the bathroom, has been dealing me with more than its share of challenges. But, I see it becoming something beautiful. Each small improvement brings it closer to being a space I actually enjoy being in, even for something as simple as brushing my teeth.

The kitchen was one of the first areas I focused on because, when I moved in, the leaky faucet kept me awake at night. The appliances were old and the floor tiles were loose—in the summer they would, literally, stick to my feet, which was as strange as it sounds. So, the very first things I fixed was the drippy faucet and that small change made a huge difference. And so kitchen project began. I already knew the look I was going for—black, white, silver, with touches of marble—and my very first project purchasing a black swivel faucet with spray in the kitchen is what started it all! A modern-contemporary look. Very updated and elegant. That was the goal.

Outside has become something entirely its own. In the evenings, especially now that it’s spring, I open the umbrella and turn on the lights. Between the soft glow from above and the lights woven throughout the garden, everything changes. The yard lights up! It becomes calm, quiet, almost magical. The plants, the flowers, the feeders bringing in birds and hummingbirds—it all feels alive in a different way than during the day, a way that’s hard to explain unless you’re sitting in it. It’s not something that just happened; it’s been evolving over time. Some were happy accidents and others weren’t meant to go on to the next year.

I think that’s what this all comes down to. Not just intention, but to find the beauty in the everyday moments. Bringing fresh flowers inside so their scent fills the house. Cooking with herbs I’ve grown myself. Applying for jobs that actually align with what I enjoy and what I’m good at, instead of just going through the motions. Creating a home that feels comforting, thoughtful, and showcases my personality.

Because intention isn’t just a word to me—it’s how I choose to move through my life. It’s in each room, each action, and how I interact with my world. The people I connect with, the interviews I prepare for, the way I tend to my garden, how I engage with Bella and Lucy and my friends and family. It’s in every space I’ve created—the patio, the swing, the fire pit glowing softly under the umbrella lights, the entryway that welcomes me home, the kitchen where I cook, the bedroom where I rest, my office where I think and plan and create.

Each space has its own feeling, and I take the time to consider that. How do I want to feel here? Calm? Energized? Inspired? Rested? That question guides my decisions. It’s no longer about just filling a space or completing a task—it’s about creating an experience, one that supports the life I’m building.

And through all of it, Lucy and Bella are right there with me, adapting to each change, enjoying each new version of the space as it evolves.

It’s just me here, so everything happens a little at a time. There’s no rushing it, no big overnight transformations. But that’s the part that surprises me the most—how much it all adds up. When I see my Google “memory” videos pop up from a year ago, I’m always a little shocked at the difference. In the moment, it feels like I’m not doing that much, but over time, it becomes clear that I do a lot! I’ve changed something. I’ve grown in ways I didn’t even realize were happening.

I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve been inspired by the people I worked with, and I know I’ll find that again. I can feel it. There’s an excitement in that possibility, in knowing that something new is coming. Life has a way of shifting when you least expect it, and sometimes all you can do is meet it with openness and intention.

Because life really does change in a blink of an eye. And when you start living with intention, when you begin to notice and shape the moments instead of rushing past them, something transforms. You begin to see your life differently—not as a list of things to get through, but as something you’re actively creating.

And if you let yourself lean into that, you might be surprised by what unfolds.