I had my last pottery class today, and four seasons in, I think I have found my rhythm. Plates are relaxing and easy to make, and the flat surface allows me to experiment with different painting and decorating styles. I have a full mix and match dinner set in the kiln! Jeppe Hein‘s plates will be top of mind when I start again in September, and I love the high wattage wares from Martinich & Carran. Both have a painterly quality that haven’t yet played with. It’s fun to have projects to look forward to.

My daughter had an ice cream party at school today to celebrate the end of the school year. It’s always fun to catch a glimpse of our children at school, a place where they spend so much time, but where we’re rarely present. The excitement was palpable. I was reminded of how I felt around this time every year –– nervous, relieved, sad. The summer seemed like an endless stretch of time with no algebra in sight. And no school friends either. I was out of the country for most of it, and I wouldn’t see my pals until September. By the time we were reunited, there were a million stories to share –– a first kiss, a fall from a horse, new bangs and pierced ears. It felt like forever that we’d been apart, and in no time, we were back in the swing of things.

It’s rare to walk into my friend Jessica’s house and not find keffir grains on the counter, a bone broth on the stove and Red Fife bread in the oven. Her daughter, Phoebe is always snacking on something homemade –– herbed crackers, radish and cherry lollies, black bean brownies. When she was pregnant with her second daughter, Maeve, the house permanently stank of saurkraut. Weeks after Maeve was born she served ghoulish food to dozens of neighbours on Halloween. She loves to cook, she loves to feed people. Our friend Erin is the same. She doesn’t make butter from scratch, but she throws fish on the barbecue and whips up grain salads that make you feel like you’ve flown to Ottolenghi. The most delicious food –– a hearty Bolognese, a perfectly boiled egg, roast chicken and freshly made bread and butter –– is simple and made with love. When Jen Agg said “I don’t like people,” in a recent Globe and Mail article it stopped me in my tracks. How can you feed people if you don’t like them? To come to Erin or Jessica’s table means they like you. A lot. And that’s a big part of what makes the food taste so damn wonderful.

Melbourne artist, Hannah Nowlan’s bold canvases are so appealing to me. She plays with just a few earthy colours, and paints bold, abstract shapes inspired by her local coastlines. Her Myths, Moons and Mountains series pays homage to her travels through Spain and Portugal. Out to Sea from Nowlan’s geometric collection is on my wish list. I love everything about it, down to its Tasmanian blackwood frame.

When I was about ten, my Mum gave me a beautiful dollhouse. It looked like the Georgian style homes in Notting Hill. I painted it the palest pink, with white trim. Inside, the walls were lemon yellow. It wasn’t a dollhouse for very long. By the time I was twelve, I stashed letters and diaries  in it. Pages and pages of handwritten poetry, confessions and teenage angst accumulated in every room. I still have the house, with all its contents. One day, I’ll re-read all the letters, and I’ll laugh and wince and well up. And if I’m ever tempted to upgrade my treasures to a grander address, it will look something like this.