This day was inevitable.
I've been dreading it for months.
Martha, I'm not renewing my subscription.
Stop that - there's nothing you could have done...It's not you, it's me.
We've had some great times...the brined turkey and gingerbread cake that were the shining moments of the first Thanksgiving dinner I cooked...introducing me to the beauty of chrysanthemums...
...the most adorable 4th of July decorations...
...and the inspiration to throw on my wellies, a large brimmed straw hat and head out to snip roses. (So what if they weren't my roses?)
But to reach the peaks, one must travel through the valleys. The long arduous valleys.
My own nuptial madness fueled by your Weddings magazine...the failure of Blueprint...and your borderline insulting - simpletons cooking manual aka Everyday Food - to name a few.
I wasn't even sure how to pronounce quince - let alone find a quince or quinces (?) in Western Nebraska. Glitter Easter eggs? Great idea in theory - but I sparkled like Dorothy's slippers until Flag Day. And surely my Labor Day luncheon would have been pedestrian, since my family doesn't own a vineyard in Northern California complete with an 18th C. farmhouse table and Scandinavian chairs crafted by sailors.
I know it all comes from a good place - full of good things.
But, with each passing month, Living has become a glossy reminder of what I am not achieving in my home and moreover, in my life. There's enough of that type of content in my own internal publication to go around...without paying $12.95 a year.
Should the day arrive, when I no longer care about streamlining my domestic operation and really want to pursue growing the perfect lacecap hybrid hydrangea or feign waspiness at an Olympic level, I will know where to turn.
For now, I will be ripping up my renewal notice and moving on to find homemaking inspiration among mortals.
We'll always have your website.
Mrs. News Readin'
3 hours ago