A Toasty Mug

That, right there, is my first homemade latte in months.

True story.

In an effort to offset the expense of summer, the Russian and I opted to let our Nespresso capsules run out in late spring.

I wouldn't consider it a hardship, as The Russian has perfected the art of making cold-press coffee. He makes great batches of it every week, and, typically, we needed little else to give us our daily pick-me-up. 

My summer morning ritual went as follows: grab mason jar, fill with ice, pour in lovely mixture of milk and cold-press, swirl around {the coffee, not me}. Voilà!

But let me tell you about the best part - the part that's even better than the delicious, chilled brew. 

The sound of the ice cubes clinking as they shift in the liquid, nudging the glass and bobbing about.

Isn't that just one of those quintessential sounds of summer? The right way to start a warm day.

It wasn't until this week that I began to crave the warmth of a latte. A toasty mug to hold close as the mornings grow dim and blustery. 

Rainstorms have descended upon the Pacific Northwest. We wake to the pattering of drops at the window.

As I've written about before, way back in one of the first blog posts, part of living here is coming to terms with the rain. For me, a hot latte is key.

Thus, our first shipment of Nespresso capsules arrived yesterday. I was excited to make my latte this morning! 

But, of course, the hectic pace of things - school drop-off, dog walking, birthday party planning, chicken-curry making, grocery shopping - pushed it off. 

So, here I am, at mid-afternoon, finally sitting down to enjoy that first cup. 

And yes, it's so very nice. And yes, I hardly mind the rain. :)

Birchbox

Sure, I like wearing a little makeup.

I like to smell good, too.

Sometimes I even put this goopy stuff in my hair to make it less frizzy. Or maybe it's a curl enhancer. I'm not really sure.

So, it's probably time for me to admit something: I am uneducated and cheap when it comes to product.

Product, ubiquitous product - the stuff us females are inundated with.

The word that seems to stand for everything under the beautification sun.

When it comes to this subject, my knowledge is extremely limited.

I happily use free samples and hand-me-downs from my mom.The Russian's Momlady gives me the Mary Kay hook-up, for which I am thankful. And I rarely stray from the items I have used before.

Most of my product is related to skin care or make-up.

I do have a bunch of hair stuff, but I am the laziest hair-care person known to man. Seriously.

Only two haircuts in as many years. Enough said.

Anyway, I'm a product idiot. That's the bottom line here.

Having spent time with several friends and family members who are product gurus, I know where I land on that scale.

Yep, down on the idiot end of things. 'Tis the truth.

And that's okay. I'm perfectly fine the way I am, and no amount of product is going to make me a better person. I know this.

However, it sure can help as the body ages. And on those rough days, when I'm feeling less than stellar about myself, a little perfume, decent moisturizer, lip gloss, and mascara makes me feel slightly improved.

So, I like to have it around - a little of this, a little of that.

My first two Birchbox shipments!

Aaand here's where we come full circle, back to the part where I remind you how clueless I am about beauty potions and such.

Enter, Birchbox.

For my birthday, my brother and sister-in-law gave me a little brown box. It was simple and unadorned, and I thought, probably, filled with socks.

I always need socks, so that would have been fine, too.

But no - there were no socks. Birchbox is something much better {depending, I suppose, on the state of your sock drawer}.

With a monthly {$10/mo} or annual subscription {$110/yr}, they'll send you "4-5 personalized beauty and lifestyle samples".

Higher-end product I didn't know existed and would never, ever think to buy for myself.

I've received two boxes so far, and the goodies range from various facial serums to perfumes to hair treatments to eyeliner. I love eyeliner.

That eyeliner is deep, midnight blue. Siiiigh!

You can try the samples, learn more about them online, and, if you so desire, purchase particular items through their shop. There's no pressure to do so, though.

I see that box arrive in the mail, and I get giddy! Giddy, people. Like a kid on Christmas morning.

I don't even know what half the sh!t is, but I'm so excited to pull back that pink tissue paper and see what treats await.

And chances are, I won't buy any of it {okay, maybe a few things...sorry, The Russian}.

Probably, I'll make these samples last for the rest of my life, 'cause that's how I roll.

But for me, it's about the discovery.

That eau de purfum, Folle de Joie, is heavenly.

Here's a world I've never quite understood or cared to explore - too overwhelming, too expensive, too shishi.

Birchbox simplifies all of this for me, culling a vast sea of products down to 4 or 5 items every month.

Pretty practical. Pretty economical. Pretty, frickin' awesome!

Just sayin'.