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Biltmore's conservatory.  What an indulgence it was for me to be able to take my time and just snap, snap, snap. Maybe these little souvenirs will hold you until you get the chance to see it yourself one day.  This is likely enough inspiration for me to draw pictures of flowers for at least a decade.  Sigh. Thanks for the workshop sellout that happened pretty lickitysplit today.  I am so honored that there is that interest out there, and I promise to be a good hostess to those of you joining.  I simply cannot wait.  If you missed this one, let me know, and I'll add you to an interest/wait list for the future. In other news: :: My husband can not stop making tofu scramble like this . :: I cannot stop watching/listening to this . :: Somebody help me. :: I can't get sick of it. :: Tofu scramble on the other hand.... xoxoAMoxox

I adore the nickname given to the Biltmore.  The structure is really quite stunning.  And it does seem to be a graceful lady of a house.  You feel permitted to love it as you tour the inside, because you learn of George Vanderbilt's legendary kindness.  So you can unapologetically love the beauty of it all.  Anyway.  I took so so many photos.  Not so many of the house exterior (you can't photograph the interior), but the several of grounds as I have for you below. I took even more of the conservatory and dozens of intoxicating greenhouse blooms which I'll share next. I could have kept snapping for another few hours. Above is me with mom, and Eleni, my sissy. Enjoy the rest. If you've been waiting for more in depth info about the fall needleworks workshop, here's a pdf: Needleworks Nashville The info pdf is also now located at the shop page where the event will be on sale Wednesday morning. xoxo, Anna

Spokane is lovely. Really lovely. I can't help but think that this hotel made sure that I knew that and won't let me forget. A hotel is a hotel, but after having been in quite a few lately, I am beginning to really appreciate those that are uniquely comfortable. These are some of the details of the old charming Montvale Hotel, settled downtown. Each and every little nook, cranny, and floor was entirely different and loaded with rustic antiques, evocative paintings and sink-into furniture. Above is my door. I felt sure there were ghosts. Classy ghosts with great taste in paintings. It was so extremely quiet, save some creaks in the floor, it seemed I was one of just a handful of people staying there over the weekend. Which of course made all the chairs seem simply occupied by ideas of past visitors instead of present and visible ones. I was so transfixed by the details and furnishings that I carried my family around the whole place by way of Skype on my laptop to giv...

xoxoxoxox. favorite. xoAM

Post Disclaimer: All photos reference the THAT of which I am thinking and not the THIS of which I am doing. There are too many THISs to photograph. Doing:: Replacing six 10 1/2 ft structural porch columns on the front of our house :: waiting impatiently to have this installed in the dining room :: and two of these and one of these in the hallway :: attending to the lingering details in Nicolas's room and the girls' room after having renovated both :: considering which day to buy our Christmas tree and therefore decorate the whole house Thinking:: About picking up all the little sunshine crochet squares I started last winter on the couch with Juliana and lots of Whoppers :: Wondering if I need all those things again to be able to do it :: Yes, I do :: I was originally inspired by an amazing blanket that I saw either on etsy or flickr or both.... I think by a talented (Northern?) European woman.... and she had it styled on a modern gray couch.... anyone? I have seen sever...

I only recently reacquainted myself with the feeling of what its like to have only my work before me. No interruptions. No distractions. Just work. Enjoyable as most of my work is, I have always been one to work best under pressure or to be most prolific when incredibly (unreasonably) busy- not as though I've had the chance at anything else, really. This week has been strange. New. A little uncomfortable. Today's brightest light was the sunlight twinkling in Roman's eyes as he giggled out a proud smile after successfully yanking his shoe over his bulbous little heel. Over his new school socks (because no other pairs are actually pairs at all, just two socks). Today's deepest, darkest, tiniest, and perhaps irrational fear is that maybe for some years now I have forgotten how to just be single, whole, complete and only me. Or worse, that maybe, that's not as interesting as it use to be. It was a surprising amount of comfort when I stacked some things up fo...

My friend Kathy was kind enough to ask me to share a look at my sewing space, so you can see that over here today , as well as lots of other very inspiring sewing spaces for the rest of the month! Anyway, it goes without say, that I have been chomping at the bit to get this place in order enough to share some looks at what the new attic studio has been turning into. I am a firm believer in slow realization for any kind of living space. In other words I think the best spaces are those that get decorated, adorned, furnished, over time after use and function come to light. You can certainly fill a space in a matter of days, but really making it come together in the best possible way for me takes time and doing it wrong a few times, shifting, etc. The only problem with this method being that it makes me and my room a bit camera shy until it gets where I want to be....wherever, or whenever that is. But you know. Every space in my house is a work in progress. So with this new space ...

Chances are if you were to drive by any place that looks like this , it would be a good idea to stop. And if the nachos have faces, you should also plan to have dinner. True love. Myself and that guy in the background of course. I don't know that cup looking guy. Cool hair though. I want her job. It could either make me hate dipped ice cream cones, or make me enjoy every minute of becoming an ice cream stuffed balloon. Case in point: that cone in my hand is a size Small. And still its the size of Roman. Seriously. No camera perspective tricks here. My ice cream could eat Roman. Which is why I attacked it of course. I was protecting my cubs. This is Jack. In most instances that's all you need to know. But I'll go ahead and also tell you that he's my father-in-law. Jack grew up a stone's throw from the Dairy Dip (well only if you have a really good arm, I just wanted to say that cause it sounds so Nashville, and I like to particularly sound Nashvillish w...