When the Dominoes Fall
Peonies, product testing, and the prologue to summer
We are exactly one day away from summer, and if I had to describe the last seven days in a single word, it would be survival. Or maybe unhinged. Let’s go with unhinged.
It felt like someone accidentally tapped the first domino on Sunday night, and my only job for the rest of the week was to stand there and watch the whole row go down while pouring a cup of coffee.
The absolute peak? My son missed Field Day. For the SECOND YEAR running.
Now, if I had missed Field Day at his age, it would have been a relief, a ‘get out of forced cardio free card.’ But he is not me. He was devastated.
Watching your child navigate that very specific brand of childhood heartbreak while your inbox is simultaneously exploding and the school calendar is aggressively colliding with your nervous system?
It’s a very specific, late May cocktail:
Hundreds of unread emails, a giant stress zit, and a total systemic crash-out.
By Wednesday, I wasn’t walking through my week; I was dragging myself across the finish line. But stay with me here. I promise I’m getting back to the flowers.
Right before the dominoes fell, my husband had picked up two bunches of peonies from HEB. They were under ten dollars each. One for me, one for my mom.
My mom is notably not a “flower girly.” She doesn’t gush over flowers. But these flowers were different.
When we first put them in the vase on the kitchen counter, they were just small, bright pink buds. Very, “we’re closed for the season. Come back later.”
But as the week completely deteriorated and the dominoes fell one by one, these flowers decided to stage a full, very dramatic, theatrical performance in the background of my collective meltdown.
Monday: Aggressive hot pink buds (and 47 unread emails)
Wednesday: Exploding coral, petals splayed open (and total emotional collapse)
Friday: A soft, buttery yellow (and complete acceptance)
They were unreal.
The flowers shifted from hot pink to bright coral to orange, and finally to a soft, buttery yellow (honestly, a stunning character arc. Give them an award).
I promise I am not trying to get deep and philosophical about a ten-dollar bunch of grocery store peonies. But in a week where my schedule was entirely unhinged and I felt like I had absolutely zero agency over my own life, watching those shifting colors became the exact, gentle reminder I needed. It was a little note to myself that transitions can still be beautiful and expansive, even when the context surrounding them is a total, chaotic mess.
Since we are almost through the last week of school, I went back and bought three more bouquets to finish out the year strong. One for my mom, one for the Huddy’s teacher, and one for me.
Make that four. Because I’m sending one to you, too.
A Little Countertop Hope ✨
One day, when this Substack is my full-time gig, I hope to buy flowers for everyone in this community. But for now, let’s start small. The next person to upgrade to a paid subscription will get a virtual gift card from me to grab a bunch of peonies for their own kitchen counter. We all need a little bit of hope on the counter.
Now, where were we?
Think of today’s letter as the official prologue to what I’ve been calling our Summer of Cozy. I know. The math of that sentence feels a little broken for late May. But I’m not talking about heavy wool blankets or forced autumn aesthetics. When I say cozy, I mean something deeply nostalgic. It’s the feeling of eating popsicles on the porch after dinner. It’s quilts and wood floors with wet footprint marks, outdoor fans, and early-summer breakfast trays. It’s climbing into a cold bed after a full day outside, Pendleton blankets draped over Adirondack chairs, and giant fire pits. It’s a living room with the AC blasting, a few pops of blue, and a really good playlist in the background.
Over the next few months, this space will become a bit of a blueprint for creating that exact feeling.
But first, an end-of-week palette cleanser: a few May favorites, some new buy-once additions, and a couple of necessary, slightly heartbreaking brand breakups.
A quick side note: I’m spending this weekend reorganizing our “Buy Once” Database so it’s easy to navigate and entirely free of the endless scroll. No one likes a clunky directory. If you want 24/7 access to the full, living archive, you can upgrade here. It costs less than a fancy coffee. And saves you hours of obsessing over researching home investment pieces.
Anyway, onto the new additions...
