Last year when April was turning to May we went to Montreal. We spent a few days driving around, going from one restaurant to the next, taking pictures. Eating small amounts of this and that, wishing we could stay longer, wishing there was time to eat more.   The grass was already green by then and it felt a bit like summer. We stayed in a friend's apartment, quite near to the restaurants we'd planned to visit. There was a spiral staircase to get to her front door and a long back deck with a clothesline. There were blooms outside the windows and small buds on the trees. It felt vaguely like we lived there, vaguely like we could call that place home. I'd like to go back, I'd like to walk through the neighbourhoods more and I'd like to eat at nora gray.     On a separate note I'd love to know your thoughts on places to eat, stay and visit in New York City. We've stayed at a few different hotels which have been great but we're curious about airbnb and longer stay options. If you have suggestions, we'd love to hear them! xo, N         these sandals this post ice cream cones i want to go sailing ballet in nyc this vase and this reminds me of summer       photos: michael graydon + nikole herriott

  We went to France a couple months ago. It was when summer had turned to fall here but when it was unofficially still lingering there. When the afternoons were almost warm enough for sandals but the nights chilly enough to turn on the furnace.     There was a fireplace in our kitchen and a ghost in our bedroom. There was taxidermy in our living room and fish pond in our front yard.     There were friends and meals and many bottles of wine. There were markets and broncantes and numerous trips to the grocery store. There were oysters.     There was the best yogurt I've ever had (Sweden & Beijing run close 2^nd & 3^rd mind you) and some of the best cheese. There were croissants and religieuses and a good lot of canelés. There too, was a truckload of Rosé.       And perhaps most exciting of all, there was baguette delivery and hunting for hare. The latter, something I've always dreamt of doing (more on that soon). And the former, somehow one of the the best surprises to date.

  There were roadside stands selling cepes, old men selling honey, and chickens with their heads in the grocery store. And hands down, there were the most beautiful butcher shops on earth.       There was cognac and chocolate and the kind of magic that only comes from getting lost. It was amazing.     xo, N               Plus, a few things I like: this table the second photo in this post the the wall in this photo this situation these scoops this hair red and pink together and this sweatshirt                             Photos: Michael Graydon

Until a couple weeks ago I'd never really thought about the colour of clay before it's turned to dishes.     It hadn't struck me that it might start as a solid soft grey. And that once formed and set to dry, it's colour would change each day. Slowly, from one shade of grey to the next. I think I'd imagined that porcelain would start out white.       So, when we found ourselves at the studio of Atelier Make, the potters behind a number of our pieces and our good friends, and they told us that while some clays do arrive white, the specific types they use to produce our pieces remain grey until their first firing, I was a little amazed.     I'd known that potters' studios were handsome places. I'd imagined the process of making things from clay would be beautiful thing. But after spending time in one I like them even more.   There's a fine dust that settles over most things there. Tiny bits of clay that dull almost every surface. It takes the sheen from things and leaves something of an enchanted calm. xo, N             photos: michael graydon + nikole herriott HG juicers, clouds and totes will be back in stock soon + we're updating this monday to stay up-to-date join us on facebook or via our mailing list               these shorts this apron in natural this photo from IG these earrings i can't stop thinking about this cake this egg, yes please montreal notes: the bagels and the pistacho loaf here these dapples and this  

I was surprised when I first arrived in Puglia. I'd taken the train there, a near full day whizzing past small towns, long fields and the Adriatic Sea. Eight or so hours of inspiration from my seat.       But still, I hadn't expected the south to look that way. I hadn't dreamt of the stark whites and beautiful creams. Nor, the light sandy beige. I hadn't considered that a short moss might grow beneath the olive trees.     I hadn't expected the flat, pale, beauty of it all. The lack of rolling hills and terracota soil.     I don't know what it was I'd expected. It's almost as though I hadn't dreamt big enough.     I'd heard how wonderful the food was. How different the tomatoes taste, and how fresh the cheese. But I wasn't prepared for backyards of oranges, roadsides of arugula or gardens tucked amidst olive groves. I hadn't thought of the seafood.   Somehow I'd kinda forgotten just how extraordinary travel can be. xo, N         PS: find a little more from our trip, here. Photos: Michael Graydon

because sleepy lambs are the cutest lambs because today is the first day of spring, and because that makes things feel different somehow. like there's change on the horizon, like something good is about to happen like something great is just around the corner and i like that.   and isn't this lamb the cutest ever? i just wanted to pick her up and bring her home. i even momentarily convinced myself that maybe it would be okay to have a lamb as a pet.     that's all for now. hope your day is grand! xo, n         ////// this makes me miss trips to mexico a dark grey pleated skirt a two zip wallet in jewel orange a pile of crocks this is beautiful creams and whites and a little book (via) i thought these were cute and the photo is by michael graydon on a recent trip we took to vancouver island