Banjo morning and shared cinnamon coffee

Woke up to my banjo humming in its corner, a Bessie Smith record on low, and the kitchen smelling like our favorite coffee — the morning felt like a long, lazy chorus.

Four years after that Saturday run when Wyatt and I opened the door to something generous, home still holds steady; new voices get invited in with kindness and good playlists. If you can make me laugh and be gentle with the people I love, you already have my attention.