Welcome to mamaeats, a twice-weekly newsletter (Tues. & Sat.) inspired by a simple + seasonal home life. I’m a mother of three, avid reader, gardener, and home cook who focuses on nourishing, whole food meals with a focus on plants. This newsletter is my labor of love—if you are not already, and are able to do so, please consider becoming a subscriber to support my work here, which takes time and effort. Doing so gives you access to all the archives and recipes (find the recipe index here), as well as cook-along videos which go along with most recipes. If a recurring payment is too much for you right now, but you’d still like to contribute, I’d be delighted to receive a one-off tip via my ko-fi. As always, thank you for being here, reading this newsletter, and sending me your thoughts.
Lately I’ve been musing on what makes daily life beautiful, pleasurable, lovely. It’s spring, which always makes it easy to see the golden side of things, doesn’t it? I am reminded of Kate Baer’s poem, Sunday Drive:
In spring you can live anywhere—
any little town you drive through,
magnolias and redbuds blooming,
children dancing on the lawn.
You see the Victorians, the picket
fences. The library and corner stores.
We could really make a life here, you
might say. We could really make a life.
This musing started last week, after I had a friend over for dinner and conversation (delightful). She had recently been on a trip to another part of the US, and was recounting to me the culture shock she experienced at the rushed pace and lack of everyday beauty in the lives of those she spent time with, memorably describing dinnertime as “just people chewing together.”
We went on to discuss how we are often reminded and surprised (not in any kind of judgemental way, just in an observational way) in talking with and observing others that not everyone takes meals as opportunities to connect and experience pleasure. For example, my husband grew up with microwaveable dinners eaten alone or sometimes together in front of the TV.
After my friend left, and in the days after, I found myself observing the little rituals of my life curiously as if through a stranger’s eyes, the ways in which beauty and enjoyment and slowness is built in, even though my life is quite simple and ordinary. I found myself thinking how this builds contentment, lessens consumption, hedges against the ups and downs life inevitably brings. I suppose I’m talking about quality of life.
In mulling it over, I think this built in framework of beauty and slowness in my day to day is what makes life a delight for me. I do not think I could bear the hard bits (and there are always hard bits) without it. I realize this may come across as snobbish or something—I promise I don’t think I’m better than anyone or have got it all figured out, far from it, I struggle constantly—but most of these things that I’m talking about are free or low cost and even make you healthier- both mentally and physically.
Alot of them, I was brought up doing and have naturally continued doing. It’s my normal, the fabric of my personal culture I suppose. Americans generally live a very fast and consumer driven lifestyle—there is a generalized feeling of hurrying behind almost everything here, lest you fall behind, lest you miss out. It breeds anxiety. Saying that you’ve “just been so busy” has become almost a badge of honor—you are being productive, getting things done, pushing hard, moving up in the world. But what if we switched that narrative? Like Mary Oliver reminds us, from her oft-referenced poem, The Summer Day:
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
We are human, we are meant to experience joy and pleasure, to have the time to marvel and experiment and learn. Not every minute of our lives needs to be scheduled and spent productively, as a means to an end, to yield results to quanitfy and chart and track. When we do less, we do not need to feel guilty. We can both work and play, and both are important and meaningful. Here are the ways I encourage slowness and pleasure in my life:
making eating a true pause in the day
Each meal is a built-in cue to slow down. I bring beauty into it by eating on pretty china, with cutlery and cloth napkins- often there are a few flowers, or a taper candle on the table. I set the table with what we’ll need, and sit down to eat without rushing, looking at phones or TV. The table is a place to connect with loved ones, or yourself, if dining alone. I often eat my breakfasts alone and it is one of my favorite parts of the day- I sit outside in the morning sun enjoying the plants around me and the sounds of the day waking up. The food is usually always quite simple, but delicious and nutritious. I always have a bit of dessert after lunch and dinner, usually ripe fruit in season or dark chocolate, but sometimes some kind of baked sweet. There’s always a simple green salad at meals. Having these little rituals makes mealtimes extremely satisfying, and something special to look forward to three times a day.

drive less, see more of the world
I dislike driving most of the time- I find it useful for long hauls and when time is short, of course- but even with a busy life, we manage to walk, bike, and take the bus most of the time. I build the time into the schedule and sometimes it’s quite a bit faster than driving because of traffic. When you’re not driving, you get to actually experience your surroundings- the flowers, the sound of the wind rustling the trees; watch people and their delightful expressions, outfits, and gestures, meet dogs and cats— endlessly entertaining tiny things you would absolutely miss if driving. If I go to visit a friend in the next town over, I often take the bus if the timing works out- sitting and being driven while reading a book is luxurious. I love both our bikes (we have a very light road bike and also a massive bakfiet that my husband and I switch off using depending on what we need it for- one great for quickly getting around, one great for hauling kids, groceries, anything).
dress well
I get dressed every morning in the clothes, jewelry, and makeup that make me feel put-together and confident. It elevates my daily experiences when I know I look nice, whether I’m staying at home all day or going out. Everyone’s style and preferences are very different, but I think each of us knows the feeling of being comfortable and feeling good in clothing. It is a hugely positive mood booster.
bring beauty into the mundane
I (happily) spend a large amount of time at home, and find it is important to me that even my utilitarian items are beautiful and thoughtful—as I use them often! Small things, like using a favorite lovely straw basket or creamy canvas bag to tote groceries home in, or using a dishwashing brush made of metal, wood, and sisal instead of a neon sponge, means a lot to me. My laundry basket is beautiful, and every time I get it to hang the laundry out (almost every day), I get to appreciate its beauty, and thus enjoy the task more. I love to have music playing- classical, jazz, bossa nova, spanish guitar are some of my personal favorites- and to have fresh flowers in the house. Even something as simple as a good pen can make the task of writing thank you cards or grocery lists a delight.

taking time for pleasure / ignore your phone
Make time for things that are purely pleasurable, satisfying, or interesting for you—you know, the things you wish you could do if you had more time. This is absolutely true: we are masters of our time and what we do in a day. Yes, we are all busy: we all have responsibilities, work, and things that must be done each day—yet, we also all have gaps between those things. We choose what we fit into those gaps based on our habits, or more ideally, what brings us happiness. What things make you intensely happy? Annie Dillard reminds us in her book, The Writing Life (very enjoyable):
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.
Most of us spend too much time in the virtual world and very little time with the imperfect loveliness of physical reality. It’s all too easy, as these platforms are literally designed to be addictive, to erode our attention spans. But we must resist, we must prioritize our days, our lives, our one precious life. Put your phone in the kitchen drawer when you get home and see how much more time you find. The texts and notifications and updates can wait, people will call if they really need something urgently.
For me, the things that come to mind that bring me contentment and pleasure in the day to day include:
a leisurely after dinner walk with my husband or my daughter after James goes to bed, seeing the sun set and light up the sky with color
reading a good book for an hour before bed, with diffused light from my lamp on next to me and a cup of hot chamomile tea
making a coffee and sitting down outside to drink it while the sun is on my face
an early morning walk alone, to see the sunrise; or a handful of minutes before or after breakfast to read some poems or a few more pages of the book I’m reading
inviting a friend over for dinner regularly, nothing fancy, just good food and conversation, perhaps a film or playing cards or just doing something together that needs doing- planting bulbs, hanging out laundry
going to an art gallery, opera or concert, seeing a visually beautiful film
watching a film together weekly with a loved one with stovepopped popcorn
tending my small vegetable and flower garden every day- planting tulip bulbs each autumn, pruning everything each winter, spreading loads of homemade compost each spring, selecting and perfecting which varieties of vegetables my family and I enjoy most to grow our best garden, which contributes to our daily table.
selecting and baking a sweet every weekend to share with family and friends
baking our weekly sourdough loaves, being able to give the gift of fresh homemade bread to family and friends
visiting and sharing a meal with my mother or grandmother most weekends, to catch up after a week apart
playing cards or chess before dinner with my children or husband
listening to The Met Opera on Saturdays
spending the day at the beach as regularly as possible; being near the sea makes me feel at complete peace in both my body and mind

make time for curiosity and learning without expectations
I knit, bake bread, cook all kinds of things, preserve jams and fruits and veg, sew, garden, ferment things, paint, write. I’m not an expert at any of them, and I’m not even good at some of them, but they are fun and engage my hands and mind in a meaningful way. I actually mostly learned to do these things later in life, due to curiosity and being interested in these subjects. Often people ask how to get started with one thing or the other, and the answer is: Just fling yourself in to it! You will most likely be horrible at it at first, and that’s wonderful! It’s how we learn, by being terrible and gradually less terrible until we are pretty good at it. And here’s one last little encouragement: we don’t need to be good at something, or have something to show for our learning, to derive satisfaction and have fun doing it. Whatever you create will be infinitely more meaningful to your life than passively watching an Instagram reel of someone doing it, while thinking “If I had the time…”

I hope this small list has perhaps been interesting our inspiring to you. If you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear what some of your small pleasures are that add quality of life for you, or anything else you’d like to add. Thank you, as always, for reading and spending some of your precious time here. xx
Gorgeous and inspiring! I share many of your pleasures but this is a helpful reminder of how to deepen into them. Walking barefoot in our small yard is another for me. And watching the hawk's nest in our neighbourhood for signs of spring babies.
So nourishing to read! And I actually feel deeply moved by reading it. How beautiful life is, when we remember to slow down enough to actually experience it! I deeply appreciate your writings, and your way of weaving beauty and sharing it with us. Thank you! 💗