Yearly Archives: 2021

As we face what feels like the millionth day of winter (I truly, without exaggeration, think it has snowed a little bit – and sometimes a lot a bit – every single day for the past month straight) and continuous frigid single digit wind chills, I am reminded how full of wonder and peace winter can be sometimes, but also how long and dreadful it is at other times.

Time is an even stranger phenomena these days in the world of winter and a pandemic than it usually is. Today I thought “Wow, I can’t believe its already almost March – spring is practically just around the corner again! (even though it feels like we are very much in the depths of a deep and dark midwinter that just got here).” while, only seconds later, thinking, “How has it only been a month and a half since New Years? It feels like Christmas and New Years were six months ago!” This winter feels everlasting, but also it’s going by too quickly and I haven’t lived it yet in all the ways I aspired to and dreamed of, to really sink into it in the way that winter demands, you know?

That got me thinking of New Years, which seems both like just yesterday and also a time so long ago I can hardly remember it. Both an ending and a beginning. A relief as we wrap up one thing (for better or for worse), then jump immediately into the promise and potential of something fresh and new and entirely unknown. I mean, how many of us would have surmised at the dawn of 12:01am on January 1, 2020 what the year would actually have in store for us as we joyfully cheered and ushered in our big plans and resolutions for this milestone new-decade year that would, undoubtedly, be a memorable one for all the right and exciting reasons we had planned…only to look back at 11:59pm on December 31, 2020 and realize that we all had absolutely no idea what the year had in store for us and not the other way around at all…and we’re much more trepidatious in our celebrations and presumptions and approach to what 2021 will be like.

Nonetheless, we celebrated the retirement of 2020 and the dawning of 2021. We celebrated making it through 2020 alive and relatively unscathed (for which we were extremely lucky and exceedingly grateful), and we celebrated things like health and gratitude and acceptance and wisdom and simplicity and perspective and the love of family and friends – things we’d always appreciated, but never so much as we do now, with a clearer understanding of how much they mean and matter. And we celebrated, with hope, that 2021 had arrived and, with her, a different sense of “plans” or “ideas” about what the year would hold – and what sorts of things we actually wish for and vow to pursue in the new year, which was a far cry from the resolutions and dreams of past years that seemed so bold and lofty and frivolous.

Instead we used New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day to take stock – to acknowledge, to appreciate, and prepare our hearts, minds, and spirits for whatever was on the horizon. There was no wild party, dressing up, hugs from friends, or kisses from family, but there was still plenty of fun and joy, but also peace, acceptance, a shift in perspective, and hope.

Here’s how we celebrated:

Looking back on these pictures, it’s hard to reconcile how this was so long ago and just six weeks ago all at the same time. But, in many ways, I feel like this year’s celebration was more appropriate, special, and memorable than many others, and ultimately, what I feel is gratitude for this season of our life – as odd, harrowing, and unusual as it’s been. It’s not always easy to accept a gift that you didn’t expect and don’t understand with grace, but I feel like we learned a lot this year and we’re better for it.

Happy belated Valentine’s Day!

I hope you all had a lovely holiday and have been staying warm in body, mind, and spirit these bitterly cold and snowy February days (I’m looking at you, entire USA, but specifically – and oddly enough – Texas).

I wanted to take a moment to talk about Valentine’s Day – a holiday that is both extremely divisive for some and deeply personal for others. Some people really have a heart for Valentine’s Day and embracing the feelings of warmth, love, and affection wherever they come from, and the material, physical, or emotional affirmations that accompany it. And others wish nothing more than that it would float off into the abyss of ludicrous forgotten customs of a bygone era – a distant memory of something super weird and overwhelmingly corny or inauthentic that society used to feel pressured to celebrate in expensive and obnoxious ways. As a person who has fallen into both camps at one point or another in their life as I’ve come into and out of romantic relationships, and into and out of periods of shifting focus or mental or emotional transition, I empathize with both schools of thought (and probably any and every other idea in between), and can understand why people feel the way they do.

But what I’ve ultimately arrived at, and have believed for the better part of my 20s and 30s, is that Valentine love is a celebration of ALL love. It is not limited to romantic love, commercialism, financial obligation, traditionalism, gifts, gender, one particular day of the year, or even to just people-love, love of those still living, or love of those we know well (or even at all). Many long for the love and still find ways to inwardly share love with Valentines who left this world long ago. Many others show love and give of it generously to people they don’t even know through donations, compassion for those in need, and acts of kindness to strangers. Many more would say human valentines are fine and all, but their pets are their valentines and that’s where the love and celebration is really at. But, regardless, love must be practiced and cherished the whole year through to carry any weight on the day we collectively acknowledge and honor it.

This year I mailed love and appreciation notes to some family and friends across the country, and Ted helped me make five dozen hot chocolate bombs over four days. Then I delighted in spending five relaxing hours of mostly-peaceful country roads driving on a beautiful winter day to deliver them as surprises to the front porches of 14 special friends (guys and gals!) along with love notes and mask brackets. I would have delivered cocoa bombs and notes to at least eight dozen more people if I could!

Ted and I rarely exchange gifts on holidays, but we love each other every single day and we sure made some pancakes for breakfast together and ate some tacos in our pajamas that night in honor of that love!

The older I get, the more I can’t imagine a more joyful or important task than making sure that the spouse, family, chosen family, friends, friends’ kids, co-workers, neighbors, and pets in my life know that I love them and am grateful for them, in my own unique way, today and every day. I guess what it boils down to is that, like any other holiday, it is what you make of it. Some of those Valentine’s Days will be wonderful; others will be very hard or deeply upsetting for any number of reasons. But I can choose my overall perspective on this day to be one of goodwill or one of mockery or despair, and I can relish in it because I choose for it to be about ALL kinds of love – romantic, familial, friendly, self, nature, life, passion, experiences, and more.

A charming and cozy reading nook has been an eventual plan of mine for years. I have a whole folder of diverse inspiration images saved on my computer, a thriving Pinterest board, and I’m pretty sure a number of years back I even wrote a blog post with some ideas I was considering. We’ve never really had quite the sort of secretive and wonderful space I’ve envisioned in any of our homes for a reading nook (a tucked away closet, an inset window seat, etc.), and this home really is no exception.

Actually, we did design and build in this little bench in our kitchen that doubles as liquor bottle, cocktail supplies, and cookbook storage and is also somewhere to sit while babysitting the stove or oven and, admittedly, this nook is super cozy for curling up with a book when you still need quick and easy access while baking or cooking. Honestly, this is such a great thing to have in a kitchen and every cook should have one!

However, I’ve dreamed of a designated reading area in somewhere other than our central living space with an abundance of natural light, a peaceful view, a stylish but functional lamp for after dark reading, a big comfortable chair you can really sink into that cradles you, an oversized warm blanket, pillows for extra ambience and comfort, lots of vivid and rich jewel tone colors, maybe some twinkly string lights, or curtains, or a fireplace, and somewhere to set a hot beverage or cocktail, or a stack of books or even a candle.

When I started working from home last March at the beginning of the pandemic, our guest bedroom became my office. We brought up a desk from the basement, rearranged the furniture a bit, put the dresser in the large walk-in closet, etc. And that all made the room a bit on the cramped side, since we didn’t remove the guest bed or anything, but with so much time spent at home for the foreseeable future, I quickly came to realize that I really wanted a small reading area in that room as well since I was almost always home (and would be for quite a while) and with my waking hours somewhat transformed in terms of daily tasks and expectations, etc. this seemed like the perfect time to create a reading area that would get plenty of use right away.

I knew we were working with not only a very small footprint in this room (which was the primary challenge), but also a small budget – all of which was perfectly fine. But it was important to me to create some sort of area of comfort that felt bright and calm where I could escape to, even if it was on a much simpler scale than what I’d always envisioned and would, eventually, still like to work into the plans for a future home down the road. On snowy days (very much like this one today!), a reading nook just felt like something that would be really beneficial for my sanity and mental health during a super weird period of life.

I am a big fan of a particular shade of deep, rich, vibrant hunter green. I always gravitate toward that color, and when I want or need an item, I secretly hope it’s available in that color. And velvet is about as soft and luxurious as you can get. So, I decided to start there. I absolutely love a good classic chaise lounge and that was my first choice for a central statement piece that everything else would build around, but we didn’t have the space for a long chaise that I could stretch out on, or even for a wide and tall stately yet cushy armchair that you can really curl up in, so my first (and, frankly, only) task was to locate the one “big” item that would be key to transforming the tiny space into a reading nook: a chair that fit in the space.

Fortunately, I did find a perfectly hued and velvety soft chair (with ottoman!) that I really love, was compact enough to fit in the space we had to work with, and also was okay on the budget front (Ted surprised me with it’s arrival one day during the spring!). With that in mind, I already had a big, soft blanket in a vivid shade of golden mustard with some blue tones in there that would contrast nicely with the green of the chair, and we also already had a painting (that Ted painted, actually) hanging up in the room of a serene winterscape comprised primarily of green, white, and various shades of deep blue. I ordered a single jewel-tone throw pillow that had deep greens, brilliant blues, and mustardy golds mixed in to further tie the chair, blanket, and painting all together (as well as into the rest of the room, which is decorated with deep blue curtains, a green comforter, and peacock sheets and pillowcases in shades of mustard, blue, and green) so the whole room looks cohesive and makes sense together.

And so, for now, this is my lovely reading nook! Because of where this is situated in relation to the window (which I do have a good view out of and plenty of natural light!), it was very challenging to get a photo that actually showed the true colors of everything, so imagine the carpet as shades of salt & pepper gray that compliment the paint color on the wall instead of the beige/brown it’s showing up as, and you have an accurate idea of color and how everything looks together. Across the room are the deep blue curtains, and right next to that ottoman is the bed with peacock-colored linens. There’s definitely not much room to move around right now, but we’re working with what we have and I’m just thankful to have this space (especially during a very cold and snowy winter) as I’m spending so much time at home and inside, reading and writing.

I will say I’ve been lobbying all along to add a reading light or sconce on the wall for those late nights or dark and dreary days, and this is the one I have picked out, to be ordered and installed….sometime? Hopefully?

And I also think a small round area rug under the chair and ottoman will help designate the area more clearly and make it even cozier looking and feeling…but I haven’t found quite the right rug yet. I’m after one that’s bright and eye catching, and that ties in all the colors again – mustard/gold, green, blue, and maybe a bit of ivory or gray – in an abstract pattern that’s somewhat amoebas, but without being too distracting. One of these is on the road to what I’m seeking, but not quite there yet. With the, literal, millions of rugs out there, I’m surprised I can’t find what I’m looking for. If the bottom left rug had deeper green tones in it instead of so many light, grassy greens, or if the one top left had a touch of green or gold in it, I think that one of those would be the best fit. Ah well, I’ll keep my eyes open and see if anything wonderful presents itself.

Anyway, that’s my reading space, and I spend a lot of time in it. I really, really love the green velvet, which looks and feels so luxurious, and is just the absolute perfect color, and on snowy Fridays, just like today, it’s exactly where I want to be.

So, the reason I needed that Winter Blueberry Mulled Wine Pie that I posted about last week was because, for the longest time, a close group of friends and I had been planning a Christmas Pie & PJs swap!

The idea came mid-November when we were chatting in our she-food group text thread (side note: we have affectionately dubbed our group “she-food” because we are a group of lady friends who, originally, started getting together semi-regularly to make elaborate potluck-style dinners of shrimp and other delicious seafoods to celebrate our deep love of this particular cuisine that our spouses/partners either didn’t like or were allergic to; we called these multi-hour dinner affairs “fish & dish” because that’s pretty much what we did – eat fishy foods, dish on all the latest topics to talk about and catch up on, and drink cocktails. Since the pandemic began almost a year ago, and even before then, the group evolved into a strong and tight-knit support system for us all – we keep each other sane, supported, social, and feeling special, whether it’s everyday things or big life events. In our new pandemic world, she-food seafood suppers have been put on hold, but we keep up virtually and with the occasional socially distant and masked outdoor bonfire with cheeseburgers galore). I think we were all craving some comfort that day, and the idea came up that we should do a Secret Santa swap of the two most comforting and cozy winter treats: pie and pajamas.

We got all excited, used a website created just for this type of thing to enter in our personal details (food allergies, sizes, style preferences, address, etc.) and to draw names secretively. Then we each found the perfect pair of pajamas for our person and thought of a pie that they’d love. Our plan was to porch-drop our goodies to each other a few days before Christmas. Alas, the best laid plans, right? Well, the US postal system had something to say about that plan (understandably; the world is a wild frontier these days with a lot different factors complicating shipping times – from holidays to Covid to political sabotage of the postal system). For several people, the pajamas ordered in November still hadn’t arrived by Christmas. One pajama item spent about 6 weeks vacationing in Iowa, according to tracking – which is more vacation than any of us have seen this year, by far.

And so we pushed back the date to “sometime in early January.” And then Covid struck down one of our she-food members who is a nurse, along with her family, and by the time she was recovered and her quarantine period was up and then her kids’ quarantine period was up, it was already late January. And so our Christmas Pie & PJs swap became a Midwinter Pie & PJs swap, which was honestly delightful and very much welcome during a bitterly cold, snowy, and gloomy month of the year.

But on the last Saturday in January, with much giddy excitement, we all ventured out to our person’s house between 1-3pm to leave a pie and wrapped PJs on their porch, and we all promised not to be by our windows or to look at our doorbell cameras if we were home during those hours so it would stay a surprise. And that night after everyone’s little ones were tucked away in bed, we all hopped on Zoom, showed off our delectable pies (and also ate them straight from the tins with zero regard for cutting slices or intention to share with our partners), unwrapped our jammies, laughed and ohh’d and ahh’d, took one guess at who we thought our gifter was and why, and then revealed ourselves to our Secret Santa. We stayed on long after the reveals were made, eating pie and drinking cocktails and talking for hours. It was such a fun evening and a real bright spot of the past several months – knowing we’d all picked something special for each other and keeping it a secret all that time.

Here’s what we all got:

I have worn my jammies constantly – they are so cozy and warm, and I love onesies and buffalo plaid. And that pie did not last long….turns out Ted liked my coconut-pineapple custard “Dang Good Pie” (from a rural east Texas church community cookbook circa 1950s – right up my alley!) just as much as I did. Fortunately, my Secret Santa shared the recipe, so I’ll make it for us sometime this summer. And I had a downright joyful time picking out the most plush, most Lisa Frank-esque from our 90s childhood cat jammies I could possibly find for my giftee (they were a raging success!), to go with her winter blueberry mulled wine pie.

And so that’s why I needed an awesome pie, and we already can’t wait until next year. Someone suggested swapping Mexican food and beachy Mumus, and I, for one, am totally on board.

In flipping through photos from the past couple of weeks or so, I thought I’d share some of them as a peek into parts of our daily life around here in January – mostly on weekends. I am still working from home, and some days Ted is working from home and other days he’s on the road, and there isn’t much to share from or about work photo-wise, but I have been intentionally focusing on “doing less,” outside of work, which sounds like a strange thing to say during a pandemic when we already spend approximately 90% of our time at home doing less than we normally do.

In a future post I’ll share more about it, but I’ve always been a busy person – I like to keep active and go on adventures and participate in a million things and be involved and be social and I find myself with a full schedule fairly often (usually in a good way, but sometimes not). Interestingly, this hasn’t decreased too significantly with the pandemic. I definitely go less places (well, I go no places, really, especially now that winter has set in), but I still *do* plenty, and while some of my tasks or regularly scheduled events have fallen away, a few have simply transformed, while some have grown, and others have required a different level of thought, time, energy, or intention. I’ve been reading a book that’s been hugely illuminating and inspiring about this very topic. All this is to say, I’ve been focusing more on doing less and enjoying the simple everyday things. This may be totally normal for some, but takes a bit of practice for me, the Type A planner, So, most of these pictures are quite ordinary, and that makes them really special.

Cheers to celebrating the ordinary, which makes life extraordinary.

It’s another snow stormy day in upstate New York with raging winds, blowing snow, limited visibility, and bone chilling temperatures. A perfect day to talk about pie!

This past week I needed to make a pie for something special (there will be a fun post about that coming soon). I’d been researching winter pie recipes for a while and came upon many that were unique and that I’m eager to try, but this one was intriguing to me for this particular event: a winter spiced blueberry mulled wine pie. The idea came from King Arthur’s Blueberry Pie with a Twist, but as I almost always do, I used this as a template and then diverged to add my own twist with a few additions that felt complimentary and inspiring. This resulted in the following:

Base (Blueberries, mulled local blueberry wine)
Spices (cinnamon, clove, allspice, nutmeg, vanilla bean)
Acids (orange bitters, lemon zest, limoncello)
Thickeners (butter, flour, instant tapioca granules)
Sugars (confectioners, light brown)
Crust (sweet cream, demerera sugar)

What I like most about this pie is that it’s a winter version of a blueberry pie with rich, warm, comforting winter spices to suit the season. I was generous with the spices and added them both to the simmering pot of blueberries and wine, and to the pie compote itself before baking. The mulled blueberry wine enhances the blueberry taste and adds a nice depth to the flavor without overwhelming the pie or taking away from the key ingredient. The orange bitters and limoncello brighten it up, and overall, it’s not too sweet or too tart – just right. The texture was also excellent; it held together nicely without crossing into soupy or gelatinous territories. The crust, though, really elevated the pie because it’s extra sweet with a very generous handful of coarse demerera sugar layered atop a wash of sweet cream milk & cream liquid coffee creamer (the only ingredients in the one I used are milk, cream, sugar, and vanilla) – and that sugary sweetness paired remarkably well with a thin, flaky, and buttery crust, not-to-sweet blueberries, and warm spices.

I ended up making two pies – the test one to try it all out and make sure everything developed into the flavor and texture I was aiming for, and the second one to give away. As I look out the window and see that it’s a complete whiteout of nothing but incessant gusts of blowing snow out there, I’m pretty thankful to have this winter blueberry mulled wine pie for an afternoon snack.

Here’s a number of other pie recipes I found that sounded absolutely fantastic and am looking forward to trying at some point:

• Sausage apple pie in cheddar crust
• Blueberry limoncello pie with sourdough crust
• Passion fruit tart
• Banana custard tart with meringue and chocolate crust
• Cranberry orange meringue pie with ginger cookie crust
• Cranberry curd meringue pie with mulled wine
• Poached pear & berry pie
• Pear and sour cherry pie
• Earl gray and lemon poached pear pie
• Black bottom chocolate and blood orange pie
• Blackberry meringue pie
• Poached pear brownie tart
• Gingered plum streusel pie
• Cranberry fudge pie
• Bourbon ginger pecan pie
• If you haven’t tried this Finger Lakes, NY classic, you’re in for a treat!: Concord grape pie

And, while these are not pies, don’t they sound incredible?

• Chocolate amaretto Alaskan yule log
• Chocolate orange cheesecake buche de noel
• Blood orange and earl gray cardamom bun
• Pear cranberry gingersnap crumble

This is part II of “Items that I should have just bought on Etsy but thought they were outrageously expensive until we spent literally double on the supplies plus a full month of occasional labor waiting for a miniature snowy owl to arrive from Arizona lost in the great USPS holiday shipping zoo of 2020, spray painting, snow flocking, gluing, sealing, and drying a wreath.”

In the spirit of transparency (and justification), the end result of our wreath is 6” larger than the one that inspired me on Etsy, and we added an owl and the small stack of tree stumps that were not on the Etsy wreath. These alone add a lot of dimension, visual interest, and elevate it to a more unique winter landscape look. Also, the snow on the inspiration wreath was just implied with a blanket of white glittery fabric draped around the bottom and sides of the wreath, whereas we chose to go the flocked snow route for a little more realistic look. I also like that this was yet another project that we built together during this pandemic era. It’s been neat to have the bandwidth to fill out our home with projects we’ve designed and built together that are one-of-a-kind and uniquely “us.” I’m also pleased to have a seasonal wreath I can keep up December-March that isn’t Christmas or holiday specific, as most winter wreaths tend to fall in the overtly Christmasy category and look a little misplaced after December 25th (I say this as every single one of our interior Christmas decorations is still up on January 28th and won’t be going anywhere until this weekend).

With the near constant blustery wind, snowfall, and bitter temperatures we’ve been having for the past week or so, this winterscape wreath has been timely and adds a welcome dash of winter warmth to our porch.

Back in September I learned about hot chocolate bombs – a spherical chocolate shell filled with hot cocoa mix and marshmallows that break open when a cup of steaming milk is poured over them, elevating your standard mug of powdered hot cocoa to a rich and decadent melted chocolate beverage that’s delightful to watch bloom as the contents within are slowly released.

In early December, I thought these might be a fun gift for family and friends during the holidays, but after researching them at local bake-shops and on Etsy, I decided paying $5+ per hot chocolate bomb in addition to whatever shipping charges existed on either end was outrageous for a single cup of cocoa.

So, like any “determined” (read: crafty and stubborn) person I, instead, spent over $50 on supplies like silicone molds and high quality baking chocolate (along with 2 labor-intensive hours with Ted’s assistance finely shaving, tempering, painting, and sealing our own) to remind myself exactly why hot chocolate bombs cost $5 each and why we pay skilled and patient people a fair and reasonable price for their handmade work at local bake shops and on Etsy. I’ve learned this lesson before, by the way…and often. But I like doing things myself and this is a lesson I will continue to learn anew every couple of months, for better or for worse.

We made these this past Saturday, as the snow gently cascaded down all day (much like today – except today is more like sharp little ice pellets disguised as snow slapping against the house with the mighty force of 20 mph sustained gusts), and they turned out to be a fun winter snow day project. They look and taste great, and it’ll be nice to have the supplies to make them again whenever I want in the future without having to order them specially or risk damage in shipment (these dudes are delicate!), but this was definitely a team effort that worked best with four quick hands and a laser thermometer. The reward is excellent though, and on yet another blustery, bitter, snowy, and windy day in upstate New York, they are a delight to have around.

My friend Bethany recommended I plunk one in coffee, which I did (Door County Coffee & Tea Co.’s candy cane coffee – highly recommended!) and it was wonderful! I also imagine adding a swig of Kahlua or Bailey’s Irish Cream (traditional or salted caramel) to a hot chocolate made with one of these bombs would be excellent, and I intend to do that this very night.

I stuck with a classic hot chocolate bomb filled simply with powdered hot chocolate mix and lots of tiny dehydrated marshmallows for this first batch, but I’m looking forward to shaking things up in the future with soft peppermint melting sticks, Andes mints, peppermint oil, caramel, fleur de sel, maybe a little cayenne, etc. By the time the silicone molds arrived from the great holiday shipping debacle of 2020, it was mid-January, so not as many friends or family members have delighted in these yet as originally hoped, but I’m slowly doling them out to neighbors and friends as I see them (masked and from a distance, obviously). Once I sharpen my cocoa bomb skills more smoothly and efficiently, these babies will make great little treats for next holiday season!

For anyone who might be interested in trying these out as well, I followed these instructions. The 2.5″ spherical silicone molds I found on Amazon (I bought a 4 pack, but 8 would have been the most ideal number of molds to have on hand for this project so you can make more bombs in one shot since you already have the chocolate finely chopped, melted, and tempered), the dehydrated marshmallows were from Nuts.com (you get more than you could ever use for $5.99) and I also ordered a case of 12 Baker’s Premium Semi-Sweet Baking Chocolate Bars from Amazon, which was cheaper than buying at the grocery store. You can use any kind of thermometer, but we found a laser thermometer was great since you test temperature often and with a touch-less thermometer we didn’t need to keep cleaning off a stick thermometer after each test.

Turns out, one of the silver linings of quarantine is that Ted and I were both finally home regularly enough (read: always) at the same time that we were actually able to accomplish a number of projects we’d had in mind for quite a while, but never seemed to have enough time or energy at home or together to do. I honestly doubt, if not for this odd and unexpected period of time in our lives, that we would have ever been able to complete these dream projects at all, much less all in the span of several months. There are a lot of difficult and frightening things about this pandemic, but it’s also important to acknowledge the silver linings where they exist, and the greatest gift of 2020, for us, has simply been the opportunity to live a little more intentionally and relaxed at the same time…to stay active, get our hands dirty, work together, and – ultimately – have time to do things we’d normally just not be able to prioritize like daily morning walks or runs, noticing the intricacies and small details as the seasons change and the habits of the local wildlife in our neighborhood grow and shift along with it, frequently trying out unique or involved recipes, soaking up nature with regular hikes, bikes, and time outdoors exploring the beauty of New York state, an actual return to reading books just for fun, puzzles and games, and of course a number of DIY home and building projects.

Here’s just a few of the builds that we designed and tackled between March and October:

We’re finishing up a fun winter wreath for our front door right now, and we have a few more projects in the garage, shop, and basement we’d like to get to sometime within the next year, perhaps (and if we can manage with a vaccine rolling out and work starting to pick back up), as well as a larger landscaping re-design to fix a handful of things that need attention and build in a couple of features. But for now, we’re really pleased with how these projects turned out and being able to make the time for them in an otherwise strange and unsettling year was a great takeaway from 2020.