i also want to have the kind of home that invites lingering. the kind of place people love to be, because there’s always something good to snack on, something lovely to sip, and company that makes the hours disappear. the kind of home that always feels clean and fresh, smells like a boutique hotel, and makes people want to sit and stay awhile.

but the issue i think many of us fall into is that our homes are rarely guest ready—at least, not as guest ready we’d like them to be. maybe the house isn’t quite as tidy as we want it, or we didn’t get a chance to run to the store for snacks or something to mix into a drink. the vision is there, but the readiness isn’t always.

and of course, martha stewart’s entire existence seems to radiate ease and elegance—but that version isn’t fully achievable to most of us, and honestly, that’s okay (i mean hello, most of us don’t have a show and a magazine devoted to our dinner parties). but i do believe you can find your way to a place that feels genuinely, consistently hosting ready—through a few thoughtful systems, some simple routines, and keeping a few little things on hand, ready and waiting.

before we get into how to be hosting ready all the time, we need to define what hosting ready even means. so what is hosting ready, exactly?
to me, it means my home is three main things:

• clean

• inviting

• effortless

being host-ready means my space feels clean and presentable—at least enough so that i’m not scrambling to tuck things away or apologizing for the mess. there’s a baseline of cleanliness that simply has to exist, a kind of quiet order underneath everything. it doesn’t mean your home has to be 100% perfect 100% of the time (we’re all human, life happens!) but it has to feel at least put together.

beyond clean, i want my home to feel inviting—the kind of place where guests can drift in, sink into a seat, and find themselves lingering longer than they planned.

and then, ideally, all of it feels effortless. this is the real magic of hostesses like martha stewart and ina garten—they make hospitality look like second nature, even when they’ve poured real care into every detail. the appearance of effort disappears, and what’s left is just warmth. guests should always feel like a welcome surprise, never like an imposition. effortless doesn’t mean carelessness. i think we can all agree that martha and ina are putting in a lot of effort, and it’s reflected in the beauty of their homes, kitchens, meals and tablescapes. effortless is about making this feel natural. it’s about having confidence in your home and hosting, and being able to deal with the inevitable flubs with ease and lightheartedness.

in this post we’ll go over my go to cleaning routines to keep the house guest ready all the time, what to keep on hand, how to make your home inviting, and ways to make your hosting feel truly effortless.

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i love starting these posts by reflecting on what the month means to me, what memories it invokes, how it really makes me feel. i highly encourage you to do the same—you may be surprised how each month carries its own distinct identity. to me, june first marks the true beginning of summer, despite the seasons not technically turning until later in the month. its the beginning of our east coast summers here in nova scotia, such a specific and cherished time. a time of lobster and oysters(ew, but i get the vibe) served on boardwalks, beach grass blowing in the wind, salt air and sunkissed skin. an east coast summer carries such a specific energy i feel like you truly only understand it once you’ve lived it, which i know, that sounds so pretentious. summer is a wonderful time of year no matter where you are.

i went to a private school for most of my school years, so while the public schools didn’t get out until late june, we were out for summer break very early in the month. i remember the excitement building up that first week of june, getting my final grades and going to the local ice cream shop that gave all kids free ice cream if they went and showed their report card. my dad always rewarded my very generously for good grades, so there was a lot of excitement for that as well of course. it’s such a fond memory now as an adult, which may sound silly, like of course what kid doesn’t like being rewarded with money? but for me, the memory is more about the excitement building up, the feeling of pride knowing i did well, my parents being happy for me. and then the delicious sweet ice cream dripping down my wrist, sitting outside with my friend at a picnic table of the local spot.

if may was the month that pulled everyone outside, june is the one they fully settle into. may in the garden is a lot of prep work, rebuilding after a harsh winter, but june is when you get to slow down and really enjoy it. it’s the beginning of the easy breezy months of summer.

the rest of this post is for paid subscribers. in this almanac we’ll talk about this months moon phases, a strawberry full moon ritual, ancient history, folklore of june, a cozy solstice celebration and more.

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unlock the may homemaking guide

as a homebody, my rituals and routines at home ground me so much. they’re what make each month hold it’s own shape in the year—honouring the passage of time, taking notes from nature, following the rhythms and vibes of the seasons.

through small rituals that change with each month, i feel able to really soak up each season. creating those gentle intentional shifts keeps life from feeling like one long blur, and instead lets each season have its own identity. in may, it’s lighter routines and open windows; in autumn, it’s slower evenings and warmer textures. it feels like i’m moving with the seasons instead of rushing past them.

homemaking in may feels like living in the in-between— spring is still soft and present, but summer is starting to peek through, the anticipation building. the home feels lighter and more open—windows cracked, fresh air moving through, the house not quite as tucked in as it was before. there’s a sense of gentle energy, like things are waking up but not rushing. routines shift to match that feeling: lighter meals, more time spent outside, refreshing outside and in, and touches of green brought in from the garden. it’s less about coziness(in the traditional sense, anyway) and more about freshness, letting the home breathe a little and stretch out with the longer days.

for me personally, homemaking in may feels centred around getting the house (and my life) fully ready for summer. i’ve mentioned before but we have a small little house—we often refer to it as a cottage—so different seasons require a little bit of flipping things around. that means storing heavier bedding, changing closets over, moving things around. i already semi-organized my closet for spring, but spring here in nova scotia is very rainy and still a bit cool, so i keep out many of my thick knits and really only put away the very wintery/christmas-y sweaters ahead of spring.

now that the weather is finally warming up, and i’ve added a few new pieces my closet is begging for a reorganize, and it feels like the perfect time to go through and donate what i no longer wear. i like to do that at the beginning of each season when i’m changing my closet over so i can really see everything, and go through clothes i haven’t seen since this time last year!

it’s also a perfect time to really refresh your outdoor spaces—setting up your outdoor living, getting patio furniture set up and cleaned off, organizing the gardena little more with the plants you started indoors now ready to go out.

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my may homemaking focuses, and inspo for your own ☁️🌿🌼

daily & weekly rhythms—

• morning minutes — stepping outside for 10-15 minutes each day (weather dependent) to soak up the spring air and sunshine. bring your coffee or tea and just breathe and listen.

• evening tidy with the windows open — keeping the windows open while i do my 15 minute tidy each evening. i’m big on the closing shift each night to make tomorrow easier.

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the homebody club is an exclusive, monthly edition of boring things. this is the space where i share monthly almanacs, covering everything from seasonal rhythms, the moon phases and rituals, folklore, tales, and little traditions meant to keep you present, rooted and at home within the turning seasons.

below you’ll find:

• a may reflection

• notes on the history of may

• celestial events this month

• cozy rituals

• folklore for the month

• the celtic tree of the month and its meaning

this post—as always—is too long for email. for a better reading experience open in your browser or the substack app.

may, the final spring month, and one that tends to feel like a bridge between the spring and summer. here in nova scotia, may is the month where the weather is finally warm—not just staring to warm, not just hoping for no snow. like april was the promise and may is the follow-through. i feel like its the month where my province really comes alive, everyone out in their gardens or walking and picnicking in the parks. it feels like one morning in may you wake up and find the world is fully green again. the trees that were still bare yesterday seem to have opened up overnight, without you even realizing it. it’s the month where the lilacs are blooming, their sweet scent lightly mingling in the fresh air. may is also then the garden really gets going—things you planted or tucked away in fall start showing up and showing off, and there's that little bit of satisfaction in watching something finally come through.

late may also always feels like the true kick-off to summer, with the may victoria day weekend, known as may 2-4 here in nova scotia, being seen as the unequivocal beginning of summer. it’s a weekend of playing outdoors, tossing a ball around in the yard, barbecues with friends and family, beach days if the weather allows it.

it’s a month that holds a mix of moods—on one hand i’m clinging on to whats left of spring, trying to soak it all up, but on the other i’m excitedly walking towards summer, ready to welcome it with open arms. it’s all about striking a balance between soaking up one while holding anticipation for the next.

the rest of this post is for paid subscribers. in this almanac we’ll go over the history and folklore of april, easter lore, celestial events and the moon phases this month, cozy rituals, homemaking and more.

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below you’ll find:

• an april reflection

• notes on the history of april

• celestial events this month

• folklore for the month

• the celtic tree of the month and its meaning

• cozy rituals

• homemaking for the month of april

this post—as always—is too long for email. for a better reading experience open in your browser or the substack app.

welcome to the homebody club: beginning to bloom. named lovingly after the month of the year where blooms finally begin to return to the land. while march brings us whispers of green paired with mud from thawing snow, april is the month where spring finally starts to really bloom here.

april is the month where spring finally starts to feel like spring here in nova scotia. the weather starts to warm up, and if we’re lucky we don’t get really any more snow. when i think about april, i’m transported to my childhood. i remember days spent jumping in puddles and playing in the woods behind my elementary school, the moss growing greener, seeing little stems poking up through the soil. the weather finally getting warm enough most days to just wear a sweater, putting away our big winter coats until winter comes back. i always think of the wonder i feel, even now, in noticing the blooms and pops of green fully returning to the land, the buds on the trees finally starting to open up. flowers growing up through solid ground, like magic they appear in places i didn’t recall seeing them the year before.

it always feels like a bit of everyday magic seeing the leaves and blooming flowers return again. like you know its coming, but you almost don’t quite believe it until you see it again for yourself. this is the month where garden centres open up in full swing, where my walks include waving to neighbours out planting and digging in their yards. the sun feels warmer and the breeze is softer, finally releasing the cold winter air. april also often (though not always) holds one of my favourite holidays: easter. i absolutely love easter. the pastel colours, the bunnies lambs,and chicks, the chocolate, and dinners served on tables surrounded by family. to me it feels like the most girly, sweet holiday. even if you aren’t religious, its such a special moment of celebration, even if you are celebrating spring rather than religious aspects of this time of year.

the rest of this post is for paid subscribers. in this almanac we’ll go over the history and folklore of april, easter lore, celestial events and the moon phases this month, cozy rituals, homemaking and more.

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below you’ll find:

• a march reflection

• notes on the history of march as a month

• weather folklore and tales

• celestial events this month

• a 3/3 portal manifestation ritual

• folklore for the month

• a spring equinox celebration

• homemaking ideas for march—gardening and spring cleaning

this post—as always—is too long for email. for a better reading experience open in your browser or the substack app.

welcome to the homebody club: out from the frost, affectionately named after what i picture when i think of march. early buds and whispers of green poking out from finally thawing landscapes.

for monthly lore and musings

here we are already, chapter three of twelve, march. a month that always feels like a mini new beginning. it’s the beginning of spring, the green starting to return to the trees in subtle whispers, warmth returning to the breeze. internally, it feels like a fresh start too. like the world is opening back up, and endless possibilities lie ahead. historically, before we adopted the julian calendar, we had the roman calendar where the new year was marked in the spring. the calendar was 10 months, starting with march, and the winter months were left as uncounted time before the new year. it really speaks to that period of rest before renewal, and now here we are, beginning again.

march always stirs a sense of excitement within me, like a gentle buzzing under the surface. here in nova scotia, march doesn’t look drastically different from february, but we get some days warm enough to thaw the snow, icicles dripping and releasing from the rooftops. we start to see the ground again, and buds start to grow on the bare branches of the trees. the air carries a feeling of warmth hidden within its still cold wind. march is such a sweet and cozy month, and always makes me feel alive(with the sound of music). i’m always extra motivated in march—ready to commit to my goals full force after easing in the first few months of the year. i feel ready to lighten and brighten my space for the spring, cleaning, organizing and clearing out things i no longer need.

the rest of this post is for paid subscribers. in this almanac we’ll go over the history and folklore of march, homemaking inspiration for the first spring month, the moon phases, celebrating the spring equinox, rituals and more.

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below you’ll find:

• a february reflection

• notes on the lunar new year

• celestial events this month

• folklore for the month

• notes on weather divination

• homemaking rituals for february

• ancient holiday lore for february

this post—as always—is too long for email. for a better reading experience open in your browser or the substack app.

welcome to the homebody club: life in a snow globe, lovingly named after our snowiest month here in nova scotia. february always feels like a snowglobe, the ground covered with a blanket of white the whole month, tree branches coated in thick ice.

february is such a beautiful month, and not just because it also happens to be my birthday month. it’s usually the snowiest month of the year where i live (in nova scotia, canada), and it often treats us to the first few teases of spring. february always feels bright to me. not in a loud way, but in the way fresh snow reflects light and makes everything feel new again. the days are cold, but they’re filled with movement and excitement—bundling up for long walks, heading out on snowy trails, breathing in that clean, cool air that smells like pine and river water. i always feel most alive outdoors this month, whether it’s hiking through trees heavy with snow, skiing under wide white skies, or escaping to a quiet cabin for my birthday weekend, where winter feels expansive and curious instead of confining.

february is deeply hopeful. it carries the energy of winter at its most beautiful—bright whites, deep evergreens, the kind of stillness that makes space for joy. it’s a month that invites softness without asking for hibernation, adventure without rush. by this point we’re a month into new years routines, and the faded glow from the holidays no longer feels heavy. holding the true mid-point of winter, it’s the most winter of winter months—in my opinion—and one to be savoured while it’s here.

the rest of this post is for paid subscribers. in this almanac we’ll go over the history and folklore of february, homemaking inspiration for this snowy month, the moon phases and a ritual to try out, and more.

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below you’ll find:

• a january reflection

• folklore for the month

• homemaking rituals for january

• celestial events this month

• ancient festivals and practices for January

• notes on the history of the new year

• blue monday survival guide

this post—as always—is too long for email. for a better reading experience open in your browser or the substack app.

welcome to the homebody club: mid-winter wonder, affectionately named after the feeling that swells in my heart when the world is covered by a thick layer of frost and snow. i love thinking up names for these posts that capture the true essence of the month and season we’re in.

january, the first month of the year—the true beginning. i feel like there are many fresh starts woven throughout the year—the return of spring, the falling leaves in autumn—but january is the most unmistakable of them all. i love the feeling of a new year, the sense of unlimited possibility stretching out ahead. it fills me with motivation to tackle everything, fix everything, do everything. i love writing out my goals and dreams, mapping the steps that might carry them into being—but with that hope comes pressure, too. the subtle insistence to do things right, to be productive every day, a standard that so often leads to disappointment when it becomes unsustainable.

january is a month that gently asks for balance. it’s a month that contains multitudes. on one hand, there’s the spark of the new year—energy, momentum, the desire to begin and to organize. on the other hand, we’re still in midwinter: a time to settle in and rest. nature still hidden under frosted ground, reminding us that this season is for nurturing calm energy.

the wolf month

january is known as the wolf-month, because wolves would stalk the forests, hungry and searching for prey. that’s where january’s full moon gets its name as well—the wolf moon. the anglo-saxons called january wolf-monath, believing wolves came closer to human settlements in deep winter, a time of hunger and danger.

spiritually, this was a month when the veil between wild nature and human life felt thin—desperation and survival drawing the two closer together. in folklore, wolves carry different meanings, depending on whether they are seen with reverence or fear. they can represent loyalty, strength, guidance, and family, or destruction, treachery, and an untamed, chaotic nature.

hearing wolves howl in january was said to foretell hardship and signal the movement of ancestral spirits. the wolf’s call also marked a turning point in winter—a sound that carried through the cold, reminding people that even in the deepest dark, something was stirring.

janus the god of the threshold

janus, the god of beginnings, is where the month of january gets its name. he is a god with two faces—one turned toward the past, the other looking ahead to the future. janus is also the god of doorways and arches—of thresholds and crossings, and was said to stand watch at the doorway of the year itself.

in rural roman households, folk tales were told of janus walking the roads on new year’s night, pausing at doorways to listen. he was believed to bless—or withhold—fortune depending on a family’s hospitality and honesty. offerings of bread, salt, wine, or coins were often left near the homes threshold on january first. families spoke their hopes aloud at their doorways, a kind of ancient manifestation, and cleared the entrances of their homes to make way for what was coming—to open the path for the new year to enter freely.

hogmanay, a scottish tradition

hogmanay is the scots word for the last day of the old year. in scotland, there is a tradition called first-footing, which refers to visiting family or friends after midnight on new year’s eve, becoming the first person to cross their threshold in the new year. who that first visitor is matters. traditionally, it should be a tall, dark-haired man, arriving with a symbolic gift—coal, bread, or whiskey—to bring warmth, nourishment, and good fortune for the year ahead. this belief reaches back to a time when scotland faced viking invasions, when a light haired man at the door implied danger.

another hogmanay tradition is the cleaning of the house. it was believed that to enter the new year with an unclean home was to invite bad luck to linger. the clearing was thorough and intentional, often including the removal of old ashes from the coal fire. the home was reset at its most basic level—emptied, tended to, and made ready—so that the new year could cross the threshold into a space that was warm, welcoming, and cared for.

the eve of st. agnes

the eve of st. agnes is a poem by john keats, written in january of 1819. it draws from a folk belief that a young woman could see her future husband in a dream, if she performed a small and careful ritual. she was to go to bed without supper, and transfer pins one by one from a pincushion to her sleeve while softly reciting the lord’s prayer. if done correctly, her future husband would appear to her in sleep.

there was also a scottish version of the ritual, practiced on st. agnes’s eve at midnight. young women would meet and walk together to a remote field, where they scattered grain upon the ground and spoke a gentle rhyme as a prayer to st. agnes:
“agnes sweet, and agnes fair,
hither, hither, now repair;
bonny agnes, let me see
the lad who is to marry me.”

st. agnes’s eve falls on the night of january 20th, leading into st. agnes’s day on january 21st.

in the poem, the main character, madeline, longs for porphyro, her family’s sworn enemy. as a winter feast roars through her ancestral home, an old beadsman prays alone in the shadows, and porphyro slips into the castle with the reluctant help of angela, an aged servant. hidden within madeline’s chamber, he watches her prepare for bed and waits as she falls asleep, emerging so that when she wakes, she believes him to be the lover revealed to her in her sacred dream.

when madeline learns the truth, she cannot turn him away—her heart has already chosen. porphyro vows to take her from the house, and together they flee into the cold night, passing drunken revelers and fading music. the poem closes in quiet reckoning: angela dies, the beadsman sleeps forever among his prayers, and the dream-born love disappears into the dark, leaving the great house to winter and silence

tree of the month: birch

there is another calendar—the celtic tree calendar—that marks the passing of the year not by months, but by trees. each tree is tied to a lunar cycle of twenty-eight days, creating thirteen moons instead of twelve months. in this calendar, january is ruled by the birch moon.

for most of january, the guiding tree is the birch—associated with feminine energy and known in celtic lore as the lady of the woods. the birch governs the days from december 24th to january 20th. it is a tree of new beginnings, regeneration, and purification, often linked to the return of light during the darkest stretch of winter. birch trees are known to grow where others cannot. they are often the first to return after tragedy—after forest fires, in scarred landscapes, even following the ice age. they thrive in poor soil and frigid climates. their branches bend easily, but they are difficult to break.

birch trees are known as a pioneer species, making them a natural emblem of rebirth and gentle resilience. they prepare the land, improving the soil so other life can grow. within celtic mythology, the birch is a sacred and protective tree, believed to guard against harm while ushering in renewal. the birch is said to hold protective and strong—offering shelter, preparation, and promise for what comes next.

the key spiritual meanings of the birch tree in january are:

• new beginnings — as the first tree to grow after devastation, birch represents renewal, regrowth, and the courage to begin again.

• feminine energy and protection — associated with love and fertility goddesses such as brigid and freya, the birch is seen as nurturing, protective, and deeply life-giving.

• bringing light and hope — with its pale, silvery bark, the birch reflects what little light winter offers, echoing the slow return of longer days after the solstice.

• purification and cleansing — traditionally, bundles of birch twigs were used to sweep away lingering spirits and energy from the old year, clearing space for the new.

• resilience — thriving in harsh conditions and enriching the soil for other species, the birch symbolizes adaptability, generosity, and steady, unshowy growth.

homemaking in january is all about resetting—clearing, tending, and putting things back with care. still in the depths of midwinter, this month invites me to make the home feel lighter and fresher for the year ahead, while keeping it warm and cozy enough to nestle into during long winter nights. it’s a balance of renewal and comfort: opening space without losing coziness, and shaping a home that feels both clean and comforting.

organization for the new year

the first thing i do in early january—usually around the second—is take down all of my christmas decor. almost immediately, the house feels lighter and airier, as if it can breathe again. i love the holiday decorations dearly, but after weeks of sparkle and layers, they begin to feel like too much. i start to feel overwhelmed by visual noise and clutter, and find myself craving a clean slate. my small house feels noticeably larger once everything is packed away. because i decorate early, taking it down early never feels like a loss—more like a natural exhale after the season has passed.

january is also the month i give extra attention to the corners of my home that tend to be overlooked. i like to move slowly, one space at a time, bringing order back to places that have quietly collected clutter while life was busy. for me, it’s usually my bathroom drawers and my closet that are holding chaos. i’m good at keeping the visible parts of my home tidy, but the spaces hidden behind doors and drawers often slip away from me—and january feels like the perfect time to reset.

here’s a list of areas i’m focusing on organizing and deep-cleaning this month, in case you’d like a little inspiration too:

• kitchen cupboards — sorting through dishes, mugs, and well-loved cooking tools

• pantry — clearing out what’s old and making room for what’s next

• bathroom vanity — reorganizing skincare so everything is used and enjoyed

• closet — letting go of clothes that no longer feel like me

• desk — emptying it out, sorting stacks of paper that have been there too long

• baseboards — an often-forgotten detail that makes the whole house feel fresher

• fridge — after 2 weeks of holiday leftovers, our fridge was nearly empty, making it the perfect moment for a deep clean before easing into new year meal planning.

baking & cooking

it’s still very much cozy season, which means the kitchen stays busy. january brings a return to nourishing, warming meals—pots of soup, stews and chili simmering on the stove, filling the house with familiar, comforting smells. the evenings feel fuller and softer when they start with comfort foods. i always love cooking, but especially in the winter with the hear of the stove and glow of dimmed lights warming me up.

here’s a list of 10 nourishing soup recipes for winter nights.

and here’s a link for an Irish stew and mashed potatoes recipe

perfect for cold winter evenings at home. a bowl of food to warm your belly and soul.

i also want to continue my baking quest, starting with something more basic, but not simple—bread. it should be a simple thing to bake, but bread has been the most daunting and difficult to nail so far. i’m still planning to perfect my ultimate sourdough loaf.

the full moon

the full moon for january has already passed. it was the full wolf moon, on january 3rd. this moon was one of a few supermoons this year—the next will not arrive until november. a supermoon occurs when the full moon drifts closer to the earth in its orbit, appearing larger, brighter, and close enough to feel.

the wolf moon takes its name from a time when wolves were said to howl more often in the deep of mid-winter, their voices carrying through frozen forests and empty fields, as noted in the old farmer’s almanac. spiritually, the wolf moon is tied to beginnings and renewal, to perseverance through scarcity, to prosperity earned slowly, and to trusting instinct when the nights are long.

a meteor shower

the quadrantid meteor shower is active from december 26th, 2025 to january 16th, 2026, with its peak falling around january 3rd and 4th. this year, its brightest nights coincided with the full moon, whose glow washed the sky in bright moonlight and made the meteors a little harder to spot. the quadrantids are considered one of the most spectacular meteor showers visible from earth, known for their sudden shooting stars and brilliant fireballs that streak quickly across the winter sky.

the meteor shower takes its name from an old and now-forgotten constellation, quadrans muralis, first recorded in the early 1800s. it was first observed in 1825, back when the night sky was mapped by hand and meaning was read into every flicker of light. even now, there’s something ancient about standing in the cold and watching the sky fall open—brief sparks of fire and motion, reminding us that winter still holds moments of wonder overhead.

the new moon

the new moon arrives on january 18th. it isn’t something we can see, but it marks the turning of the lunar wheel—the beginning of the next cycle. the new moon is a pause rather than a spectacle, and it’s long been associated with:

• new beginnings: a natural pause, perfect for setting intentions or easing into something new.

• inner focus: time to turn inward, plan, and set foundations for growth.

• planting seeds: use this phase to plant seeds—goals, habits, visions.

because this new moon falls in capricorn, it carries a steady, purposeful kind of magic. capricorn isn’t about rushing or grand gestures, it’s about slow building, committing to what matters, and thinking about how our hopes might take shape in the real world.

january new moons have been associated with renewal, especially at the very start of the year. traditionally, this phase is a time for clearing away what’s finished and making room for what’s next—saying goodbye to old habits, patterns, or projects so new ones can be planted in their place.

in older calendars and seasonal lore, the darkness of the new moon was understood as a moment of quiet power. the unseen gathering strength, the seed beneath frozen soil preparing for its first break toward light. it’s the blank first page of a book, the pause before stepping forward. this new moon, arriving so early in the year, holds that same feeling—a soft reset, an invitation to align your heart and your home with what you hope to grow in the months ahead. if you feel like you were in slow-mode and missed out on that new year push, the new moon is a great time to settle in to that energy.

a new moon ritual:

ritual:

• light a candle

  light your candle to mark the beginning of your new moon ritual. sit with the flame and set your intentions for the new moon and the coming month.

• clear one small space
  choose a drawer, a shelf, or your bedside table. clean it out slowly, wipe it down, and return what you want to carry into the next cycle, letting go of the rest. let it be a physical way of making room.

• new moon bath

  make sure the bath is freshly cleaned, and you could add in herbs like lavender for purification, rose petals for love, or frankincense incense for growth. imagine the bath water washing away old, stagnant energy and inviting in renewed energy and focus.

• make something

  make something small with your hands. even just a baked good, a tea, or a small craft, creating something that represents a beginning.

• sit with yourself

  in silence or with gentle, grounding music and spend some time journaling. write out your manifestations, intentions, and what you’re welcoming in with the new moon.

journal prompt: what am i ready to begin? what do i need to nurture that beginning with so it can grow?

here’s a link to an article that discusses herbs for your bath, and their magical properties so you can decide what you need more of.

celebrating the new year dates back around 4,000 years to ancient babylon. originally, the year began on the first new moon after the vernal equinox, when day and night were equal. the babylonians marked this turning with akitu, an eleven-day religious festival, each day marked by a different ritual.

akitu also celebrated the mythic victory of marduk, the babylonian god of the sky, over the sea goddess tiamat. it was a time of renewal and order restored, when a new king was crowned or a ruler’s divine mandate renewed.

but this new year arrived in march—so how did january become our beginning? the early roman calendar, created by romulus in the eighth century b.c., had just ten months and 304 days, with the year beginning at the spring equinox. a later king, numa pompilius, added januarius and februarius, extending the calendar into winter.

over time, the roman calendar drifted out of sync with the sun. julius caesar consulted astronomers and mathematicians and introduced the julian calendar, the foundation of the gregorian calendar still used today. caesar established january 1st as the first day of the year, partly in honour of janus, the roman god of beginnings.

janus, with his two faces, looks both backward and forward—toward the past and the future. romans celebrated with offerings, laurel branches in their homes, gift-giving, and lively gatherings.

across ancient cultures, the year was marked by sky and season. in egypt, the new year began with the flooding of the nile, aligned with the rising of the star sirius. the lunar new year begins with the second new moon after the winter solstice.

—source: history.com

blue monday was named in 2005 by cliff arnall, a cardiff university health psychologist. sky travel then dubbed blue monday the most depressing day of the year in the northern hemisphere. it’s generally decided to be the third monday in january (though sometimes reported as the 2nd or 4th). the day has come to symbolize the dullest day of winter—cold air, grey skies, and short daylight that never quite feels like enough.

it’s also the time when new year’s resolutions begin to slip, and the glow of the holidays has fully faded. the realities of winter settle in—tight post-holiday budgets, tired bodies, and the long wait for spring. it’s no wonder the day carries a reputation for feeling especially blue.

everyone needs a little boost this time of year, so I wanted to make a little blue monday survival guide. something easy, comforting and grounding to carry you through. feel free to do any or all of these, as you see fit.

surviving blue monday:

1. start the day on a good foot — make the bed for an easy win, and treat yourself to a yummy coffee or tea. either make at home, taking your time to enjoy the process, or go pick up your favourite!

2. revisit your goals — don’t see the first few weeks of the year as a test that you either passed or failed, but rather a trial period where you felt out what goals actually matter to you. revisit your goals and see how you feel about them now that you’ve sat with them a few weeks, and see this as a time of re-committing to the ones that still feel important, now that the rush of new year energy has faded a bit.

3. lower the bar — accept the bare minimum today. do what you need to do, but let the rest wait a bit. realistically, those tasks on your to-do list aren’t that important.

4. eat something nourishing and delicious — have a yummy, fulfilling dinner.

5. get outside — even just for a few minutes. harder to do when it’s cold and grey out, but your body will thank you for the fresh air. imagine the cold air refreshing you the way a mint or a glass of ice water does.

6. early bed time — nothing wrong with ending the day early, curling up with a good book and saying f it, we’ll try again tomorrow.

i hope you enjoyed this slightly different version of the homebody club. i wanted to let it wander a little this time—leaning more into folklore and an old almanac feel, paired with the comforts that shape the season. it’s a style that feels natural to me, and one i’ve been enjoying exploring, but it also matters how it lands with you.

this space has always been about shared slowness and small comforts, and i’d love to know what you think—what you enjoyed, what you’d like more of, and what you hope this series becomes as the months unfold.

—kyla ⏾

this is a little taste of what the homebody club is all about. every month going forward i’ll be sharing a new edition of the homebody club, focusing on the energy of the month, folklore, history of the holidays, homemaking ideas for the month, and a ritual or practice to try. if you’d like to be a part of the homebody club and receive an almanac each month you can upgrade your subscription here.

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ps. what does your perfect new moon ritual look like?

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Below the paywall you’ll find:

• a December reflection

• a ritual for dark, early nights

• December homemaking routines

• my list of favourite cookie recipes so far

• last minute gift ideas & host gift ideas

• my ultimate Christmas comfort movies

• journal prompts pre-new years

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Below the paywall you’ll find:

• The feeling of November

• Hosting inspiration

• End of autumn homemaking

• Early Christmas musings (sorry, not sorry)

• Curating decor that feels meaningful

• A november watchlist

This post -as always- is too long for email. For a better reading experience open in your browser or the Substack app.

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Below this paywall you’ll find:

• An October reflection

• Homemaking for autumn

• Crafts and DIY

• Fall activity itinerary inspiration

• Ideas for autumn hosting

• Journal prompts for fall mindfulness and imagination

• My must have products and home goods for autumn

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Below the paywall you’ll find:

• Reflecting on September

• Having a personal learning curriculum

• Homemaking in September

• Notes on slowing down and getting cozy

• Early fall activities

• Decorating for fall and building excitement for the coming season

• My end of year goals - life, home, and personal

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Welcome to the The Homebody Club, an exclusive, monthly edition of Boring Things where I share my monthly reflections, home comforts, seasonal inspiration, and homemaking routines.

Below this paywall you’ll find:

• An August reflection

• Rhythms of home this month

• Homemaking for august — what I’m cooking, baking, and organizing

• End of summer hosting inspiration

• My favourite late summer products

• My August TBR (tentative)

• August in 5 senses

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Welcome to the first edition of The Homebody Club, an exclusive, monthly edition of Boring Things where I share my monthly reflections, home comforts, seasonal inspiration, and homemaking routines. Typically this newsletter will come out on the first Thursday of the month, but I wanted to get started with the July episode now.

Below this paywall you’ll find:

• A reflection about July

• My rebellion against busyness and the rhythms of home

• Homemaking for the month — what I’m cooking & baking and cleaning routines

• A mid year check in and worksheet for goal reflecting

• Journal prompts for July to invoke creativity and imagination

• A re-cap of the summer so far, what I’ve done in July & up and coming plans

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Each month, you’ll receive a newsletter that blends:

• Reflections on slow living and the rhythms of home

• Seasonal inspiration

• Homemaking — a look into what I’m cooking, baking, cleaning, etc.

• The routines that are helping me maintain my home, wellbeing and balance

• A look into the comforts that are keeping me grounded

• Moodboards and photos to inspire - and why they inspire me

• Journal prompts to help you pause, breathe, and imagine

• Guides that I’m following for living well, slowing down and enjoying everyday life

• Whatever else I feel like including!

This is a space for me, but it’s also a space for you! So, as we grow and move along, I’ll be sure to focus in on what you like seeing as well as what I enjoy sharing. There will still be a free newsletter every Sunday, so this isn’t taking away any of the free posts. The Homebody Club will come out on the first Thursday of each month.

To subscribe to The Homebody Club you can proceed past this paywall, or upgrade your current subscription to the paid one!

* I had to add this in, I was working on this post all day, and then R and I went out to Homesense and I found this pillow and I was SHOOK. It felt like a sign, so of course I had to get it!

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