Home

Welcome to the house I grew up in. Many of us romanticize the homes we lived in as children, and there's certainly a lot of that going on here, but I'm telling you there's something special about this place. It's simultaneous open and cozy, airy and warm, and makes me feel like no other place ever has. It's just home, and home in the best way possible.

My family moved to this house in 1985 when I was 3 years old, and my parents have lived here ever since. It's a mid century post and beam house built by the architect Eugene Weston. Our house is part of an enclave of five mid century homes he built for his family on a private, dead-end road in the foothills of southern California. The house is more or less one large open living space with tall cedar plank ceilings, white walls, and huge glass sliding doors along the entire front of the house. A wide deck off the front looks onto the trees, creating the feeling of being in a treehouse. The kitchen and bar are covered in cobalt blue ceramic tiles that are so retro and I absolutely love them.

Ours was the kind of house neighbor kids traipsed in and out of without knocking. Weekends were spent roaming free around the neighborhood with a dog or two trailing behind. An old horse trail passes next to our house, and riders often passed by the window. A hiking trail out the back door leads into the mountains in one direction and down to the elementary school I attended as a child in the other. My dad and our dogs walked me to school every morning down that trail.

Spending the past few days here has been incredibly restorative. Vermont winters are hard, and I really needed a break and some sunshine. Even though I grew up in this climate, it's still blowing my mind that the trees are green and flowers are blooming in February. Feeling so very thankful to be able to visit this place!