VINTAGE GLASS ORNAMENTS.  You can never have enough.  Well, I suppose you can, but we break at least a half a dozen a year so we keep a  ‘cushion.’  I place them in bowls and vases and on mantels & trees. My kids love to view their reflection in them (like mini gazing balls) and my husband loves to shout ‘don’t drop!’ when they are doing so. Alas, they don’t always listen so the broom is always close at hand.

VINTAGE ANAGRAMS: I can’t get enough of letters. And words. And small messages. So I keep wooden letters on hand. And people find them irresistable. They can’t not create with them. (Try it.) Even my kids keep busy — writing EEXHD and TAF and GRAHAM IS GREAT.

OUR YARD IN WINTER. My memories are filled with trees. As a child I spent a lot of time daydreaming, looking skyward through branches and leaves and blooms. In the winter, I favored making snow angels to snow men (less work, more reverie). Another chance for recumbent repose. As I point my camera north I recall just how it felt: cheeks chapped, arms and legs akimbo, mind filled. I can even taste the falling flakes.

MY NANA. Who is 99. And lovely. And fading. And a huge inspiration (for her artistic nature, her attention to detail, her love of beauty). Here she is when she was a touch younger. Just a touch. This is how I will always remember her.

This jacket. For so many reasons. First, it heralds in the holidays (which, at our house, begins with november birthdays). Second, it reminds me of childhood parties filled with a mob of parents and cheek kisses and tom collins and clinking glasses. Oh, and the special privilege of staying up way (way) past my bedtime. And lastly (and perhaps most importantly) is the fact that my husband looks quite dashing in plaid.

LEGOS. Because without them we would all have cabin fever. Seriously. My oldest plays legos for at least an hour every day. Sometimes more. Weekends can be lego building marathons with my three children and husband hunkered on the floor surrounded by mounds of colors and shapes. Even my middle and youngest build away. Putting green with blue and red with orange to create asymmetrical towers and imaginative aliens. What am I doing during all of this quiet activity, you ask? Loads of laundry, paying the bills or sweeping the floor. Or on a good day writing a blog entry.

GREEK REVIVAL FARMHOUSES. Like this beauty. We almost were swayed. But practicality won out. And the fact that moving is tiring. Of course, remodeling is as well. But its ghost-free (and allows for an extra bathroom).

POCOYO. For my kids anyway. And, truth be told, for my husband too. Its a post bath ritual at our house to jump in bed with the laptop and watch an episode. In fact, our youngest, has officially named the computer “Pocoyo” as if its the cute little guy himself. Then she hums the tune & claps her hands until we turn it on. Which explains why the computer is often under cover, quite literally. A favorite: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8s-BMBQXahg&feature=related

INDIAN SUMMERS. For one, they remind me of our true summers — which are, where we live in Wisconsin, filled with water and sand and popsicles. Oh, and a good amount of sailing. By the time the last regatta roles around we are ready for the quieter days of fall and the quietest days of winter. But we love those days of sunshine and boat rides while they last and miss them when they’re gone.

THE MADISON CAPITAL BUILDING. i love its grandeur and loftiness. i love its weight and delicacy. i love its testament to 19th century craftsmanship. i love that it is surrounded by incredible locally grown produce every saturday in spring, summer & fall. and i love how it silences my kids (and silenced me as a child).