School’s out, and we’re somewhere between systems collapse and summer magic. We cleared out under the beds and unearthed the usual artifacts: overdue library books, lone socks, curled snack wrappers, and two half-eaten mummified cheese sticks. We packed away the uniforms, set up a landing zone for damp swimsuits and sandals, and tried (with middling success) to establish some kind of rhythm. One day had no screens. The next had no childcare and too many deadlines. This is what transition looks like.
The world, meanwhile, feels louder and more breakable than ever. At night, I lie in bed and cycle through the usual worries: war, money, safety, the question of how to build a future with a structure strong enough to hold its center.
What advice will I have when they ask about the next decade? Where to place their attention, their trust, their effort, their faith? By 2035, they’ll be ready to leave the nest. And what will the sky look like then? What will the water taste like? What will we still recognize?
And yet… despite my panic and the sleepless nights, the call is always the same. Stay steady. Show up, all-in, with hope as a practice even when I feel uncertain and wildly unqualified.
On Sunday, I watched Carlos Alcaraz win the French Open after saving three championship points. Point by point, he clawed his way back. Five hours and twenty-six minutes of uninterrupted play. He refused to be defeated.
When it ended, I cried. Not because of the score, but because I recognized that breaking point. The brink where it all feels lost. We’ve all been there. But something in us keeps swinging.
House Call Last Week…
Last week on House Call, I wrote about the one rule I always use when designing my spaces. It’s something everyone can do, and there are no right or wrong answers. Here’s a snippet:
“The messy, mismatched, and unexpected pieces are meant to stand out. They’re conversation pieces, moments of whimsy, a splash of something no one else would have thought of. Theses small oddities that are full of character make the space memorable. It’s not a new concept, but it is a design tool that’s fun to incorporate in any room.”
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Five Questions (for you and me)
When did you feel most at home this week?
When everyone was sleeping and I was enjoying coffee and a book early in the morning.
Where are you moving forward?
I keep dreaming of water. I’m walking through a pool in my clothes. I am falling into a lake. I am trudging about during torrential downpours. I sense it is a push toward wholeness, but not without something inside being washed away.
Where are you stuck?
In the push against the hard stuff. Wishing it would go away instead of bending with it. But I know by now: these are the moments that shape new patterns.
What did you consume that was regenerative?
I Who Have Never Known Men. I read it twice in one week. It cracked something open and made me question the scaffolding I’ve built around who I think I am (and who I want the world to see me as). Especially when faced with the unknown. We make it so unnecessarily complicated.
What question are you asking?
What if the next right move is to wait?
Your turn. Pen to paper, or whatever works.
MERIT Great Skin Tinted Moisturizer
It adds just enough glow to pretend I slept eight hours. I like to mix it with bronzing drops.Bluets by Maggie Nelson
A raw meditation on longing, loss, and the color blue. Obsession as a doorway to seeing.Crown Affair Mousse
This is what I’m wearing all summer for easy air-dried waves. Effortless texture with none of the crunch, and the scent is great.Buttermilk Yellow Tennis Dress
Technically “athleticwear,” emotionally a sundress. Soft, flattering, and slightly retro. Enough support to wear for playing tennis and cute enough to wear during a busy weekend of errands, sports, and a casual lunch with friends.Monday Swimwear “Miami” One-Piece in Pond Shimmer
Totally unlike my normal purchases in the best way. It pairs well with this wrap and these sunglasses. The fit is a little cheeky but still comfortable.
Rooms of Our Own
This week’s room comes from Ellen, an artist who shared a quiet moment from her living room:
“This is a corner of my living room, directly across from the couch I spend the most time on. I’m an artist, and the work on the wall is one of my pieces. I don’t typically bring my own art home, unless it’s a piece I made for us. But I wanted more time with this piece out of my studio, so I decided to bring it home and hang it in a spot where I could spend hours looking at it.
Now that it’s summer and my kids are home from school, we spend even more time here during the day, and I’m so glad I have such a lovely companion to sit across from while I read or do floor puzzles with the kids. This is a really special piece of art, and I’m thrilled to spend more time with it.”
PS: You can find Ellen’s work here.
Have a corner of home that feels true? Send a photo and a few words to kate@housecall.com.
Until next week,
Kate
P.S. The most beautiful homes are never the most composed ones.
I read ‘I Who Have Never Known Men’ last week. Ohhh..what a book hangover! I can’t even explain it - so haunting, but beautiful. The magic of both solitude and community.
I always love reading your answers to the five questions, thanks for sharing. Honored to be featured today :)