Friday Finds & Feels #29
A weekly collection of discoveries, musings, and moments that have sparked something in me this week. May these small moments of joy, inspiration and thoughts light up your weekend
This Week's Joy: We finally kicked off boating season (I say as though this is a normal part of summer for me when in fact I am just fortunate enough that my sister and her husband snagged a great deal on a small speed boat and I get to tag along from time to time) with our first trip out on the water — and there’s truly nothing like it. The salt in the air, wind tangling through my hair, sunshine on my skin, and Mt. Rainier showing off in the distance.
It was one of those days where everything just felt right —
until we ran out of gas 200 feet from the dock and I nearly had a bathroom emergency of epic proportions.
But hey, we made it back.
And honestly? That moment of drifting, laughing, mildly panicking (while clenching)… that might’ve been the best part.
Summer has officially begun.
Something to Ponder: Just a friendly reminder.
What I'm Exploring: Baking. And more specifically — all things bread. Something about flour-dusted countertops and the smell of yeasty dough rising in the kitchen feels deeply soothing lately, like a slow ritual and practice in patience I didn’t know I needed.
I recently bought King Arthur’s Big Book of Bread (big title, big dreams) and dove right in — not totally expecting anything magical to happen, especially seeing as I am relatively new to baking with yeast. But then… I made the buttermilk buns. And they turned out perfect. I’m talking fluffy, tender, golden-topped little clouds of joy. The texture was divine. I’m not sure if that’s a testament to the recipe or my natural baking genius, but either way: I’m sold.
I can’t wait to keep working my way through this book and, of course, sharing the goods (both metaphorically and literally — come over, I’ll make you something warm and doughy). King Arthur’s Big Book of Bread is available on their site or at your local bookstore!
A Little Treat: Put your peach cobbler down (just for a sec, I promise) — and try this savory summer masterpiece instead: Peach Pizza. It’s sweet, salty, creamy, herby, and honestly… it tastes like something you would make while barefoot in the kitchen with sun streaming through the window.
Here’s what you need:
– A pizza crust (store-bought is fine, we’re not stressing)
– Fig jam
– Sliced ripe peaches
– Torn prosciutto
– Fresh basil leaves
– A few sprigs of thyme
– A drizzle of olive oil
– And a big, creamy dollop of burrata in the center (bless it)
Bake until everything is golden and melty and bubbly. Eat it outside if you can. Share it with someone you love. Or eat the whole thing while romanticizing your life. Both are healing.
In My Journal: I think I might be addicted to a good deal.
Not in a coupon-cutter, extreme bargain hunter kind of way —
more in a “this vintage linen shirt is $3 and suddenly I need it for my future Italian garden life” kind of way.
Thrifting has always felt like a small joy.
Maybe it’s from all those summers I spent working in a consignment shop as a teenager, surrounded by half-priced treasures and the thrill of the hunt.
Or maybe it’s just something about finding a gem for next to nothing — it lights up my little dopamine-starved ADHD brain.
But lately, I’ve had to be honest with myself.
Sometimes I buy things just because they’re a “good deal.”
Not because I need them. Not even because I love them.
Just because the price makes me feel like I’m winning something.
And honestly? That’s a recipe for clutter. And maybe a bit of emotional spending disguised as frugal living.
So I’m practicing pausing. Asking myself:
Would I still want this if it weren’t such a great deal?
Does this feel like a “yes” or just a hit of serotonin?
Is this item adding to my vision, or just taking up space?
I’m learning that curating a soft life sometimes means not grabbing the steal. Because peace > price tag. And am I really saving money if I’m spending it on things I won’t use?
Thank you for reading ‘With Love, Stacia’
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