There's a little boutique in downtown Woodstock that sells all the French-somethings that soothe my omnipresent, indominatably-aching wanderlust. I bought some sage velvet ribbon yesterday, along with some lavender-rosemary sea salt.
As I type this, there are Dutch potatoes roasting in my oven with said salt, and that ribbon is tied neatly around each place setting of Maroc silverware. These are the things I have to surround myself with, this intoxicating beauty that lets me see my glass half full. I know that people often say that you have to find beauty within before you can recognize it out in the world, but sometimes the world offers up beauty in such unexpected ways that it kindles the fire within as well.