Those who’ve been with me awhile likely remember one of our favorite family traditions: bringing apple cider scones to the kids’ teachers on the first day of fall (or thereabouts). It’s a tradition that dates from June’s first year of life, when I made and packaged pairs of buttery, cinnamon-flecked treats for her daycare teachers. As the kids and I tallied up our list of teachers to bake for this week, I realized that I’ll likely be tripling my recipe this year: there are three kids in the mix now, of course, and June loves to deliver this treat to each of her past elementary school teachers in addition to her current one. I’m not mad about it. Our teachers deserve to be celebrated, and so does the first day of fall :) Over the years, many of you have joined me in this tradition. I’ve always pointed those who wanted in on the fun to Jenny Steffen Hobick’s website, where I first found the recipe many years ago. Since it no longer seems to be active on her site, I thought I’d share it here for those who are curious. Whether you make it for your teachers or yourself, enjoy! And happy (early) fall. Apple Cider Scones 1 cup of apple cider 2 cups plus 1/4 cup all-purpose flour1/4 cup sugar1 tablespoon baking powder1/2 teaspoon sea salt12 tablespoons cold unsalted butter2 eggs, lightly beaten1/4 cup cold heavy cream1/4 cup of apple cider reduction1 teaspoon of vanilla1 teaspoon of cinnamon1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg 1/4 cup of apple cider reduction2 tablespoons of butter1 cup confectioners’ sugar Reduce the apple cider in advance so it can cool. Pour the cider in a saucepan and simmer on medium until it reduces by half, to an almost maple-syrup consistency. It should take about

Something simple today! A few years ago, I began a new holiday tradition: filling in a Christmas memory book. This checks out, right? Holidays, traditions, and intentional memory making are kind of my thing (or, one of my things, anyway!), so this wasn’t a surprising development. What may surprise you, though, is how poorly I stuck to the tradition in the years since. I filled in about half of the questions the first year, and then a handful the second year… but always a bit half-heartedly. The prompts felt repetitive, and my answers weren’t capturing what actually mattered to me about the Christmas season. This past year, I never pulled the book out of the Christmas boxes. And wow if this wasn’t Cultivate What Matters 101: if a goal (or a tradition, or project, or memory book) doesn’t really matter to you, you’re unlikely to follow through.  (Cut to me, not following through.) So I sat with that for a minute. On the surface, this memory book seemed to be checking all the boxes: I love Christmas and value celebrating it in a meaningful way. I love writing. I love records that add up over time. Still, this book wasn’t doing it for me! As I packed away the Christmas boxes, though, I hit on something that I thought actually would be meaningful to me… As longtime readers know, I pour significant time and effort into creating our Christmas cards and newsletters each year. It’s a project that connects me to my grandmother and to fond childhood memories of sitting around a table with my siblings and parents, adding our signatures one by one to the year’s letter. It scratches my creative itch, it connects me with people I love around the country, and it satisfies my desire to tell

June has wrapped up her first year of elementary school, which means we’ve been in transition-to-summer mode! Just as we marked the beginning of kindergarten, we wanted to mark its end as a family, too. She had a wonderful year with the best teacher and sweetest class – more than we prayed for by every measure – and so celebrating was easy. Here’s what we did: 1. June got to choose our meal. She chose spaghetti, which in our house means Rao’s sauce and frozen meatballs – easy easy. I added cheesy garlic bread (again, frozen), her dessert choice of chocolate lava cakes with vanilla ice cream and raspberries, and “special drink” (sparkling cider, which is the preferred beverage for every special occasion around here). 2. We set a fancy table. That pink gingham tablecloth has been my go-to for years. We added place cards by June, popsicle plates, taper candles, and flowers from our yard (!). Always love setting a table with my girl. 3. We read good words over her. We’ve started the tradition of asking her teachers to write a note each year in a picture book, and at dinner, we read their beautifully-encouraging words. She beamed the whole way through. (We chose this book for the tradition. I looked at lots of options, and though I wouldn’t say this book is the absolute best story, it’s sweet, the illustrations are lovely, and the pages have enough negative space for notes. For message, my first choice would have been this book, but alas, there’s not enough space for notes on the pages.) 4. We brainstormed summer fun. Also at dinner, we went around the table and took turns adding adventures to our summer fun list. I’ll take the ideas and form them into a list we can

Thanks for all of your thoughts last week, friends! I always love hearing when a post resonates with you. Something I bumped up against when I started to think about purposefully injecting novelty into my life was how to handle rituals and traditions. If you’re like me, you think a lot about them. It seems like my friends, my family members, and really, my whole generation, is hyper-focused on creating meaningful celebrations, meaningful holidays, meaningful Saturday mornings, meaningful bedtimes, meaningful birthdays, meaningful first days of school, etc., etc., etc. We want our lives to be meaningful and purposeful and joyful and memorable, and one of the best ways we’ve found to do this is through creating and upholding rituals and traditions. And from what I’ve heard and seen and experienced, kids love this! They love boundaries and knowing what to expect and festivities of all stripes and eagerly anticipating things. (Ahem, Christmas.) But, even good things like traditions can be taken to an extreme. It’s not that traditions or rituals are bad (most definitely not!), it’s just that I think a maxim I adhere to throughout my life is appropriate here, too: everything in moderation. Instead of worrying that my family hasn’t established a special meal for Halloween night or bought the birthday banner that will reappear with every trip around the sun, I want to embrace the fun of thinking up new ways to celebrate! I never want to lose the margin for new holiday activities, new after-school snacks, and new Easter dinners that we haven’t yet dreamed up. One example we wrestle with: vacations. Here’s how it goes: A non-negotiable for me is going to Maine every summer. Absolutely has-to-happen, can’t-miss, no way, no how. Got it. We’ve also grown to love going to Asheville in the fall