When I was a girl, my dad always tried to teach me about cars.  He pointed to what this thing was and he explained how it worked.   And I remember none of what he tried to teach me.  I remember looking at his tan, scarred hands, that grime under the nails that would never come out.  I can close my eyes and smell the mix of diesel fuel and cigarette smoke. That was the smell of my dad after a long honest day's work in the shop.  The literal blue collar with his name stitched across his chest.

Hello from Los Angeles! It's Day 37 in our shelter in place quarantine, and...

A design conference allured me to Savannah, Georgia. Savannah charmed me with the sweet...

The entirety of the garden is never visible at once. Instead the viewer is led to uncover intentionally hidden views of the landscape while strolling along its curved paths.

We received a lot of advice about getting to Yosemite early, parking in one of the main lots and then taking the Shuttle, which takes you to just about every popular place, or you can hike from those popular places to where you want to be. This was our plan until my 14-year-old daughter sprained her ankle literally two days before our trip and ended up on crutches.  Our plans for hiking now had to be adjusted to Plan B: driving and parking as close to the sights as possible.

All our posts this week from Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Facebook, right here for...