My life is messy, lovely, and perfectly imperfect.


I'm a little salty, but I try for charming.

I love: Jesus, salt air + sand, my people and all the food.

I've learned a thing or two about southern cooking, keeping my table full and my heart open, parenting in less than ideal circumstances, and starting over after I thought I had it all figured out. And the truth is, we never ever get it all figured out.

A few years ago, I found myself divorced and parenting two littles. I quit my 13 year career as a creative director and I didn't know who the hell I was anymore. But I instinctively knew what I needed to do.

I needed to feed people. I needed to be able to show love in ways that made sense to me. My knives and cast iron pans were almost as good as my therapist's couch and I was lucky enough to have friends and family that didn't mind being fed so that I could recover.

I think I opened my doors at LEAST every other Sunday night for months and months. The first gathering had maybe 15 people and the largest had around 50 in my tiny little house. Food was flying out of my kitchen. People were sitting around my piano or on the floor with a guitar. Friends brought their pups and things were chaotic and perfect. Feeding people was how I could love and how I could forget and how I could stay connected when I so desperately felt alone.

I discovered that investing in other people in whatever way I could allowed me to heal more quickly and thoroughly than if I secluded myself hoping that people would come to ME. {and they did come... but it's such a reciprocal thing, you know? I don't think they would have/could have come if I didn't do the work to keep the heavy door to my heart open.}

So thank you from the bottom of my heart for stopping by to hang out for a bit. Let's just pretend you're sitting around my table sharing a meal... take your time {and your shoes off} and stay for a bit.

Let's grow together.

I sure do love you. (especially YOU!)

the making of salt + charm