Kondo is the spritely Japanese organization guru who encourages her clients and readers to only keep objects that “spark joy.” Watching the show, you realize there’s no one-size-fits-all joy.

One episode features a woman who collects holiday nutcrackers (though not all Christmas-themed) that sprawl across her basement family room. Banker’s boxes containing her husband’s baseball collection fill her bedroom. As a viewer, it’s easy to look at someone else’s stuff and yell “toss it all!” But as they say, one person’s trash is another person’s treasure.

If white knight Kondo showed up on my doorstep with her black squire translator, she’d find our treasure/trash on our bookshelves. MJ and I read a lot. Always have. And though we pared down our books dramatically when we downsized, we keep reading.

Built-in office bookshelves overflow with research and reference books. The kitchen bookshelf is crammed with cookbooks. A large wooden bookshelf in the living room holds novels, poetry, piano books, and display-worthy design books. (Though many live on the floor behind the sofa.) Books are piled so high on our bedside tables they threaten to topple over and bury us in the night.

One woman’s second copy of Middlemarch is another woman’s Darth Vader nutcracker.

I recently Kondoed my night table by separating the books into categories and placing them in boxes in a little bedroom alcove. But MJ’s pile still loomed large. For Christmas, I gave him a white Story Bookcase from DWR. It stood unopened in our garage until MLK Day weekend when it took up residence in the same little alcove as my boxes of books. Empty, it looked like the spine of a small dinosaur.

I was on the road to recovery and  MJ was home from work, so it seemed like a good time to Kondo his night table books. Kondo says to tap books in order to “wake them up” before you begin sorting. MJ didn’t tap them so much as toss them from his night table to the floor. But maybe that helped, as it wasn’t too painful to sort them into “giveaway” and “keep” piles. By the end of the day forty books and a dozen literary journals rested on the new bookshelf’s vertebrae. Looks so good in our new library alcove, I’m tempted to buy another bookcase for my boxed books.

Only one P. G. Woodhouse volume—the one he’s currently reading—remained on his night table. The next morning he woke up energized by the transformation. But he also dreamed he’d slipped out of bed without the book stacks to bolster him.

Kondo says you shouldn’t keep more than thirty books in your home. We’re a far cry from that. But at least we own thirty fewer books.

Of course, new books will always call to us. This weekend we’re looking forward to the International Antiquarian Book Fair happening here in Oakland. On our last visit I snagged a 19^th century anti-Mormon novel with a salacious embossed spine showing a man lashing a whip over a woman coerced into polygamy. Given that my own novel explores 19^th century polygamy, that sparked joy!

Has Kondo’s book or television series inspired you to tidy up?  How do you stay on top of your books?

But today isn’t all about snuggling up and staying in. I’m also packing for some winter adventures.  The first is this weekend to Utah to do some novel research and attend a conference on Mormon Arts.  I’m packing with one eye on the chilly weather there and one on the frigid weather of our just-booked trip to Korea next month to attend the Winter Olympics.  A good friend who has been part of the Olympics going back to the Salt Lake City games in 2002 says the Pyeongchang Olympics will be the coldest Olympics in modern history.

Winter sports enthusiasts says that if you can keep your feet warm, you’ll be fine.  So last week I swung by REI to look at some Serious Snow Boots.  Alas, I have Seriously Long Feet and even the few size 11s they had in stock scrunched my toes.  Assuming I’ll need boots big enough to accomodate thick socks and maybe some of those little packets of feet warmers that skiers use, I went to the Sorel website and discovered that they had a few size 12s still available. Of course, this time of year the pickings are slim, but I was able to order this All-American looking pair with the Italian name. My toes have plenty of wiggle-room which means these boots are getting a trial run in Utah.

They will certainly be far superior to the footwear my characters wore while homesteading in 19^th century Utah and Idaho.  Even the fancy folk in Victoria’s court never had it so good. And poor Sunja making pickles and battling the cold in Japan and Korea would never have dreamt of the affordable yet luxurious footwear that for me is just a click away.

What are you reading this winter?  Does a change in season affect what you read?

This was a busier than usual holiday season with all the kids and spouses (and a new fiance!) home.  So I’m just now taking a few moments to ponder some favorite things from 2014.  Perhaps you too are finding this Friday more about retrospection than resolutions.  If so, you might also be thinking about some of your favorite things in 2014. With the help of Goodreads, Spotify and my Calendar 5 app here are my top three 2014 things in a range of design and entertainment categories.

Best International Design Things

This was a year of extraordinary travel for me. It’s hard to pick just three highlights, so I fudged a little here.

Macchu Pichu and other wonders of the Andes  - Peru

Swiss Open-Air Museum – Ballenberg, Switzerland

Porsche Museum + Weissenhof Estate – Stuttgart, Germany

Best Domestic Design Things

Matisse: The Cut-Outs (particularly the “Swimming Pool” dining room installation) – MoMA, NYC

Surf Craft – MinGei Museum, San Diego, CA

San Francisco Decorator Showcase 2014

Best Books

Goodreads tells me that I read or listened to 26 books last year.  Looking over the list I could tell you a few things l liked–and some things I didn’t–about every one of them.  But here are the three books published in 2014 that will stay me.

Frog Music - Emma Donoghue

Levels of Life – Julian Barnes

Station Eleven – Emily St. John Mandel

Best  Cookbooks

Looking back, I primarily cooked from old favorite cookbooks and blogs. However, three new welcome additions include:

Barefoot Contessa: Make It Ahead - Ina Garten

My Paris Kitchen - David Leibovitz

Plenty - Yotam Ottolenghi

Best Movies

Travel and our mid-year move cut down some of our first run movie watching this year, but three films I expect to recall include:

Beyond the Lights

Boyhood

Noah

Best TV

So little time to watch TV, really, though this is the year I figured out what all the buzz about Scandal and The Americans was about. Otherwise, I sat still long enough to watch these new shows/seasons:

Blackish

Hell on Wheels: Season 4

Jane the Virgin

Best Theater

We saw a number of terrific plays last year including a hilarious/creepy/touching community theater production of Side-Show starring one of M.J.’s work colleagues. Here’s the best of the rest.

The House That Will Not Stand – Berkeley Rep

Tribes – Berkeley Rep

Pygmalion – Cal Shakes

Best Music

According to Spotify’s Year in Music feature, a third of what I listened to last year was folk-pop and I mostly listened to it on Tuesday.  Go figure.  Right now I’m writing this post to a new playlist of unknowns that Spotify has produced for me based on my 2014 history.  Lots of folksy pop tunes—pleasant, not-too-demanding stuff to evoke a mood while I think about other things.  Here are three artists and songs that stood out from the lyrical hushed emotions that were apparently the soundtrack of my 2014:

Mary Lambert – Jessie’s Girl

Noah Gundersen – Poor Man’s Son

James Vincent Morrow – Cavalier

Best Live Music (including Musical Theater)

Though I heard lots of good performances in my church community we didn’t attend too many other concerts or musicals (with the exception of the VERY BAD Idina Menzel vehicle “If/Then” on Broadway) this year.  These three were terrific, nevertheless:

Glen Hansard – Fox Theater, Oakland

Into the Woods – San Francisco Playhouse

The California Revels “An American Journey” – Scottish Rites Theater, Oakland

Looking forward to discovering some new favorite things with you in 2015.

I love the early days of December when everything seems possible, don’t you?

The Christmas carols that irritated me in stores two weeks ago seem festive now.   Spending time in the kitchen making artful cookies is creative fun. Dressing up to go out with friends feels like a treat. And I’m confidant that somehow all that shopping and present wrapping will happen eventually – falalalala!

As the season progresses and things inevitably don’t go as planned, I’ll try to remember that the best Decembers are usually the ones where I’ve spent more time observing and less time orchestrating.  Planning is important but I’m merrier when I focus on priorities not perfection.

Lighting up my house is pretty much at the top of my seasonal decorating list. So I’m looking forward to picking out a tree for our new place this weekend—tall and skinny should do the trick—and experimenting with outdoor light hooks specifically designed for flat roofs (rare in this land of peaked-roof Victorians.)

In the next few weeks we’ll be setting up a “glamping” tent to help house all our kids when they come home for Christmas.  I’ll share that temporary guest room with you as it evolves, but in the meantime here are some other things that lit up my early December:

A year later, some thoughts on Frozen – an animated musical that left me cold but took the world by storm.

A year end best book list from Maris Kreizman, the wit behind Slaughterhouse 90210.

What I’m giving my girlfriends this year–lavender shortbread wreaths, a “fancy” cookie that’s easy to make, beautiful and tasty.

Some journaling exercises for reflecting back through the year from photographer and blogger Susannah Conway.

And now, just for fun (and my brother Joel) – a new Christmas classic by the Killers and Jimmy Kimmel : “Joel, the Lump of Coal.”

Happy Weekend All!

Reading this essay about a woman asking for a better table when given a crummy one made me think about a recent failed attempt at being more forceful.

Claire was in town from the frigid East and wanted to spend every minute of the weekend out in the sun.  So we drove over to Point Reyes Station intending to hike out to the beach after stopping for lunch at Osteria Stellina.

The meal was great but the service was so-so.  Over the course of an hour we had three different attendants, all pleasant but often out of sync with what was going on at our table. Food came out erratically, two different waiters asked us multiple times whether we were done when there was still clearly food on our plates and then they both abandoned us once the plates were removed. No one checked to see if we wanted dessert or even bothered to bring us the bill.  Finally, anxious to get on our hike, I flagged down a waiter asking to see the dessert menu.

The hostess then showed up with the check but no dessert menu.  So I asked her to bring one.  And then I snapped.

“We need some attention,” I said sharply.  “We’re tired of being ignored.”

She scurried to get a menu and kept her eyes on her notepad as she took our final order.  Feeling like I’d made a stronger statement than I’d intended I ordered a dessert I didn’t want.

“That wasn’t like you,” said M.J. as he helped me finish off the (admittedly very good) blueberry ice cream and oatmeal cookie sandwich.

“I know,” I said. “But it was just one thing after another with the service and I felt like I needed to let someone know.”

That “someone” probably couldn’t do a thing about the wait staff confusion and I left wishing I’d acted differently–just requested the dessert menu (again) without adding the extra cry for justice at the end. Have you ever tried to be forceful and ended up feeling foolish?

Here are some other things that had me all excited this week:

Though Mardis Gras is past, you could still make up this tasty King Cake recipe and decorate it with green for St. Patrick’s Day or pastels for Easter. I liked both versions of the recipe but had a slight preference for the cream cheese raspberry.

Other St. Paddy’s ideas include this Shamrock Money Cake  and a tried-and-true version of Irish Soda Bread.

One family tries to go zero-waste.  Could you?

I’m thinking these would help keep my herbs in line.

Did you know we’re all reading the equivalent of a novel a day?

How personal rituals can help us cope with grief.

They’re just like us! Fashion folk loot the aisles at Chanel.

Happy Weekend All!

All right.  Time to stop getting distracted by stocking stuffers and get down to serious gift-buying.  If you’re giving to someone who leans towards contemporary design on a less than stratospheric budget, consider the collection of well-edited designs presented in Remodelista: A Manual for the Considered Home (Artisan). The book culls ideas from the popular design blog Remodelista founded six years ago by the book’s author Julie Carlson. You can read more about Carlson and Remodelista in my BANG feature but let’s peek between the pages while you’re here.

The book features twelve contemporary homes of the “white wall interiors” variety with thoughtful, spare furnishings and interesting backstories.  They’ll make you wish you too lived in a revamped potato barn in Amagansett or a restored Georgian townhouse in London.

It also shares basic remodeling advice, a curated list of favorite everyday objects (good gift ideas year round) and The Remodelista Manifesto—10 Rules to Live By, including:

Classic and livable trumps trendy and transient.

Ikea mingles well with antiques: a mix of high and low animates a space and allows room for all budgets.

 A room full of neutrals needs a disciplined dose of color. Think throw pillows, textiles, ceramics, and artwork in vibrant shades.

I know it’s old school, but there’s something very relaxing about flipping through a book of design images rather than swiping images on a screen. Slowing down to savor things is a gift we could all use about now, don’t you think?

If you’re in the Bay Area, check out the Remodelista Holiday Market this weekend at Heath Ceramics, 2900 18th St, San Francisco.  Click here for a one time 10% discount offer valid in the SF showroom on Saturday, December 14th only.

*Images excerpted from Remodelista by Julie Carlson (Artisan Books). Copyright (c) 2013. Photographs by Matthew Williams.

I don’t know about you, but I’m finally tuning in to the holiday calendar and starting to think about gifts for friends and family. Right now I’m considering several recently released design books as possible gifts. Over the next few weeks I’ll share some favorites in hopes of helping you whittle down your own gift list.

One of the loveliest design books of the fall comes from the San Francisco designer Suzanne Tucker. “Suzanne Tucker Interiors: The Romance of Design” (The Monacelli Press) is Tucker’s second book and it showcases some spectacular high-end interiors.

Tucker’s clients have lavish homes and the budgets to furnish them but her designs are not garish or conventional.  Instead they evoke a quiet, considered—albeit rarified—approach to gracious living.   “The Romance of Design” is divided into five sections that range from displaying collections to editing for the empty nest. Each section starts with a well-chosen quote from an author or artist about what home means and some words from Tucker about her own design philosophy.  For example, here’s what she has to say about designing for someone else: “A client’s house is not a portrait of me.  It is, however, my personal vision of their dreams—larger, utterly unique, and more special than they could possibly envision for themselves.”

On the mix: “Things don’t need to match, but they do need to marry.”

On what’s behind all those design choices: “What is home? Where is home? It’s what generates within each of us that feeling of being most at peace.  It’s where we are most ourselves, among the objects, treasures, and pieces that bear witness to our experiences and the deeply held memories that we share with those we love.”

Most of us will never live in these luxurious surroundings but we can visit them through images like the ones found in Tucker’s tome and recognize the universal components of a welcoming home no matter the design budget or location.  “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”  (Maya Angelou as quoted in “The Romance of Design.” )

This would be a lovely gift for a design friend who leans toward traditional design with a twist. Perfect for post-holiday perusals of exquisite objects thoughtfully placed in extraordinary homes.

Photos by Pieter Estersohn, Matthew Millman and Lisa Romerein

Forget the flowers in your hair, if you’re coming to San Francisco be sure to bring a sweater.  Especially in the summer.

Because of the summer fog it’s more than coolish here, it’s downright cold.  Which makes this fair-skinned Idaho transplant very happy. I love a rainy winter day the best, but a foggy summer day isn’t far behind. I feel energized in the morning to work on writing projects and when the sun finally shows up mid-afternoon I head outdoors to tend to the garden.

Today I gleaned a little bouquet of midsummer blossoms—a hydrangea that escaped last month’s hot spell, some oregano gone to seed, a fragrant stem of blue sage and the first flush of a pink-tipped penstemon. When the fog rolled in again I headed indoors to read about the gardens created for Queen Elizabeth.  Under a cozy blanket, of course, because it is July in the Bay Area.

How are you weathering summer?

1. To revisit the past.  When I was 21 I spent a summer in D.C. working as an intern at the State Department and living near Dupont Circle. Then it was an area in transition, today it’s an upscale neighborhood just blocks from where we were staying. While my husband attended some business meetings, I spent a day revisiting old haunts and recalling what it was like to be young and naive in a big city.  Here are two of the places that were revelations then and now–

Kramer Books was one of the first independent bookstores I ever lived near and I loved prowling the aisles for new and used books.  I also tasted my first rum raisin ice cream back in the Afterwords Cafe—exotic stuff for this farm girl.

 The Phillips Collection was just around the corner and it was the perfect introduction to someone unfamiliar with museums and art collections.  I’ve since visited many bigger, splashier museums, but this small gem feels like “my” museum. On the day I revisited last month a kind stranger gave me one of his free guest passes so I could pop into the sumptuous Braque exhibit a day early—confirming that the Phillips Collection and its patrons are as exceptional as I remember.

 2. To stay flexible. Invariably things go wrong on a trip. No matter how much I plan in advance or how experienced I am at packing, something will go awry. Thank goodness. Some of my best memories come from missteps or surprises along the way. I’ve learned to plan less and roll with the mood/weather/company of the day more.

 3. To experience something familiar in an unfamiliar setting. Here I am doing my best Esther Williams impression–in the rain!

4. To discover new-to-me things. Like the exquisite mosaics at the Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle (where JFK’s funeral was held.)

 Or the peaceful decor at Zaytinya (try the Baklava soda if you go.)

 Or the  charming townhouse setting for Looped Yarn Works (new needlework project = favorite souvenir.)

And several museums like the Newseum (here I am checking out the news from home.)

And the National Portrait Gallery (the video screens in my native Idaho–in this large work by Nam June Paik–show bags of potatoes.)

5. To connect the dots. When I’m on the road I’m better able to spot the meaningful patterns in my life and the unexpected juxtapositions elsewhere. Like the shot of these everyday Syrians under siege as I sipped my herbal tea in preparation for another day of peace and (relative) prosperity.

There’s nothing like Getting Away from It All to put It All in perspective. Don’t you think?

Flipping through the June issue of Vanity Fair on my way out to D.C. last week I noted that when actress Christine Baranski was asked what she considered the lowest depth of misery she said “Being stuck indefinitely in an airport when I’m desperate to get home.”  Amen, sista!

Take yesterday. After an action-packed few days seeing sights, visiting family and helping my son move into an apartment for the summer, we showed up at Dulles ready to replenish supplies and nap our way back to the Bay Area.

Dulles TSA had something else in mind.

The security lines were short, but they moved at glacial speeds. When I finally walked through the scanner, my underwire bra set off alarms and things got frisky.   While a very serious TSA attendant pulled on rubber gloves and explained just where she was going to inappropriately touch me, I saw the officer at the conveyor belt elbow-deep in my purse.

“We’re gonna have to run this through again, ma’am,” he said as his colleague briskly went about her business.  What the ??

Lotion, I figured.  Maybe my Burberry lip gloss.  But no, the culprit was a small eidelweiss-covered Swiss Army knife attached to my car keys.

And I repeat, what the ??? The little knife hadn’t been a problem flying out.  I’d carried it in my purse because I’d read just last week that small pocket knives were allowed again.  After losing several when they were first banned, I’d stopped bringing them along when I travel.  But at home I carry one all the time because the little scissors implement is so handy.

Several moments of heated discussion ensued.  My husband valiantly tried to break off the knife blade (technically, the real offender) against the stainless steel counter but to no avail. Eventually, we abandoned the knife fight in order to catch our now boarding flight.

Breathless, and frankly close to tears, I settled into my seat and waited for take-off.  And waited some more. An hour later we were still on the tarmac and I was getting hungry. The security snafus had precluded buying snacks before we boarded and the flight crew couldn’t sell food until we were air bound.   I surveyed my options.

An 1/8 of a bar of  dark chocolate left over from my carefully prepared departure picnic and a few Red Vines from a movie with my sister were all I had with me. Despair.

Too hungry, frustrated and tired to concentrate on my book, I decided to watch a bad movie with good performers—Billy Crystal and Bette Midler in Parental Guidance.  The story was crap cliched, but Crystal and Midler are old pros and their banter—along with a decent vegetarian Thai wrap once the plane was in the air—worked wonders.  Once the movie was over I finished reading my book (Conversions by Craig Harline —excellent!) and worked on a needlepoint canvas of fallen angels while listening to Tom Jones sing Leonard Cohen’s Tower of Song.

It was dicy whether we’d make our L.A. connection but the helpful crew called ahead and we raced over to the gate just in time. A catnap later we had landed at SFO and were filing a claim for lost luggage (of course). Around midnight/3 a.m.-my-body-clock-time we pulled out of the parking garage and headed across the Bay Bridge for home.

***

My bag showed up here at noon today.  Hauling it up the stairs was just another confirmation that travel is hard. It’s easier at the beginning when you’re abuzz with adrenalin and anticipation.  But by the end of even the best trips you’re tired and a little peevish and the thought of spending 6+ hours eating carbs you’d never eat at home while trying not to bump elbows with a stranger as you watch endless episodes of the interchangeable Catfighting Housewives just seems like too much.  Especially after your favorite key chain pocket knife has just been confiscated.

But deep breaths, the right movies, a decent vegetable wrap and some nice attendants—thank you Virgin America for the last two—go a long way towards making the unbearable bearable.

Next up—the good stuff that makes travel worth all the trouble.