There is a place we always stay when in Cabo. As the door opens, the heavy salty air hits me, and the phrase I have learned to always expect, “Welcome home,” is delivered in a heavily laden accent or native tongue. I always feel the same: nurtured, grounded and ready to exhale, checking the baggage of the day/week/month at the door.
As I prepare for this event, my intention is always the same: to welcome you into my nest, small but sturdy, with a foundation built by hand with care and determination. Through seasoned eyes she’s seen the passage of a hundred years.
I often think about the people who worked and knew this little shop as I do, their lives, children, stresses and joys. Customers waiting for a meal downstairs while feet run up and down stairs delivering said meal.
I wonder if in 100 years the story will change or if my history will remain in these walls. I’m always excited to bring you a little bit of imagination and flair. We all have it; it’s just bestowed differently.
As fall arrives in the Delta, air turns cool and nights start to feel like you’re swimming in a pool of creamy air; I never tire of it and always wait her return. We all feel the first day of fall; it reminds us of pumpkin lattes, falling leaves, sweaters, boots, stew, comfy throws, crockpot meals, shorter days, scented candles, pumpkins… and gratitude for another season.
Things… are just that, things. Even though I still squeal with delight when I open each box, ordered months ago and having forgotten what awaits inside. Copper pots, English crockery, French lavender, candles that fill the air with cinnamon and maple, baskets, pillows, throws and on, and on, and on!
We are looking forward to welcoming you to Fall’s très charmant French Marketplace. We have unpacked, packed, moved, shoved, crammed, plotted and planned – hoping to bring that sense of home and comfort to you.
“Welcome home” to my little nest. I’ll be the girl with the tired eyes and a big smile.