Antique Tokeneke is a place I’ve built to document exactly that. It began as a way to capture life in an old New England house, and it has grown into something more: a record of the rhythms and rituals that shape a family’s days. The cooking and the (attempted) gardening, the seasons turning, the in-between moments that don’t always make it into photographs but somehow mean the most.

Today, the website is live (!) and this newsletter is where I’ll share the writing that sits alongside it. New posts will arrive in your inbox when the seasons shift, when something at the table is worth remembering, or when a quiet moment feels worth putting into words.

A note of gratitude to Kelly at Kiki Co Creative, who brought this vision to life with such care and intention. If you’re looking for bespoke branding and website design, she is truly amazing!

I’m so glad you’re here.

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We’ve been slowly continuing work outside, making a few shifts that already feel like they’re moving things in the right direction. We relocated a row of mature Limelight hydrangea trees to new spots throughout the backyard, and brought a few up to the front as well. Right now they’re still settling in, but I keep thinking about what the view from the front windows will look like later this summer when they’re in bloom.

We also moved two of the largest boxwood balls I’ve ever seen (truly massive!) from the backyard to a new spot along the side of the house. It’s a subtle change, but one that makes everything feel a bit more structured and intentional.

It still feels like we’re in the middle of it all, continuing to work toward the larger landscape plan piece by piece.

Inside, things are starting to take shape too. We had our architect come by for full measurements, so now we’re in that in-between phase, waiting on plans, continuing walkthroughs, and working through the overall vision. Not the most visible progress, but probably the most important. We have an amazing team that I am so excited to continue to work with (HI!)

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I started seedlings for both the vegetable and herb garden. Small, simple, and easy to overlook, but it feels like the real beginning of the season. My first time growing veggies… please wish me a lot of luck!!!

Hoping you, too, have a spring in your step.

Warmly,
Michelle

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Yesterday afternoon, I was outside with my son, digging in an old garden bed that will soon be removed as part of a larger yard project.

It was one of those random patches of dirt that had long ago stopped being a “real” garden… just soil, a little overgrown, easy to overlook. But since it will soon be dug up anyway, I let him dig as much as he wanted.

As we got further down into the soil, we started finding things.

First a few small yellow flowers that had been quietly growing beneath the surface. Then daffodil bulbs tucked into a pile of dirt, already sending out roots as if spring had officially arrived.

It got me thinking about how much growing happens underground.

So much of the work of growth is slow and quiet, happening where no one can see it yet.

In a way, it feels similar to the season we’ve been in with our home. The big things are easy to point to (projects, plans, changes), but so much of what makes a house feel like a home happens in small details, slowly over time. The layering of routines, traditions, and everyday moments.

And those daffodils felt like their own little reminder of resilience.

These plants have likely been here for decades, returning every spring no matter what the winter brings. After such a brutal winter this year, they were already preparing to grow again, roots pushing forward even while the world above them still looks cold and dormant.

Sometimes growth looks like that: quiet, slow, hidden beneath the surface.

A small reminder from the garden that growth is often quiet, patient, and happening long before we see the first signs of spring.

Warmly,
Michelle

As we all know by now, it has been a very (very) long winter in New England. More than ever, this year has felt like one to romanticize the everyday... to find small pockets of joy wherever we can.

A few posts back, I mentioned I’ve been working on a needlepoint tooth fairy pillow for my son. It took me a long time... mostly because I’d start and stop as life got busy. But I finally finished it this week and felt so proud. I rushed it to our local shop to ask about having it professionally finished.

While I was there, my project was critiqued. The tension was too tight. The canvas was skewed. It needed serious blocking. The feedback itself wasn’t necessarily wrong... but the energy behind it caught me off guard. I ultimately decided to leave it there for finishing (it’s the only local spot), but I walked out feeling a little deflated.

So what if my tension was tight? I already knew the canvas was a bit crooked. But I was still incredibly proud of myself for finishing something I started... something I hope will become a small heirloom for my son. He won’t look at it one day and notice the uneven stitches. He’ll know I made it for him.

And that’s what matters.

It made me think about creativity more broadly. Starting this space felt intimidating... and honestly, it still does. I get a little nervous every time I hit publish, wondering if it’s polished enough or professional enough or focused enough.

But so what?

If there’s something you want to do... do it. Don’t wait until it’s perfect. Don’t wait until you feel fully qualified. I’m learning as I go. I’m improving as I go. And most importantly, I’m enjoying it.

This little experience hasn’t dulled my love of needlepoint. I’ll keep stitching. I’ll keep creating things I love.

And in all facets of life... I’m reminding myself not to be afraid of being seen trying.

A reminder to romanticize the trying, not just the outcome.

Until next week,
M

• reading: The Happy Home by Ariel Okin. I absolutely love everything Ariel designs and am so excited to dive into her new book - major inspiration awaits. I also just finished Strangers by Belle Burden and was as obsessed as everyone else. I didn’t expect to be so drawn into a memoir about divorce, but Belle’s writing kept me completely hooked. I so admire the courage it must have taken to chronicle such a major life transition.

• eating: lemon orzo chicken with artichoke hearts from The Dude Diet Dinnertime by Serena Wolf. I had completely forgotten about this recipe and how much I love it. The lemon brings such a fresh brightness, and the cheese makes it creamy and comforting - perfect for a gloomy February night.

• watching: Love Story (the new JFK Jr./CBK drama). The series is based on Once Upon a Time: The Captivating Life of Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy by Elizabeth Beller, which I read last year. (This is making it sound like I read far more than I actually do.) I’ve seen some criticism about the casting and chemistry, but I respectfully disagree. I think it’s been beautifully executed — and I cannot wait for the next episodes.

• working on: my son’s needlepoint tooth fairy pillow. I started it quite a while ago and have picked it up in fits and starts… but his first loose tooth has sent me into overdrive to finish it ASAP.

• noticing: all the snow that refuses to melt.

• learning: patience. (See above.)

• loving: burning my Roses candle from Diptyque and pretending spring is closer than it is.

And for now, I’m lighting the candle, turning another page, and trusting that eventually - the snow will melt.

Warmly,
Michelle

Late winter, and honestly, it’s starting to feel like a lot.

I usually try to find something to like about this time of year, but I’m pretty ready for it to be over. The snow just won’t melt. It keeps hanging around in the yard and along the driveway, even on days that feel like they should be turning things around. Every time I think we’re getting close, there’s another storm or another cold snap.

At home, I’ve been trying to keep things feeling light in whatever ways I can. Opening the curtains as soon as the sun comes up, clearing off surfaces instead of tackling anything big, and lighting a floral candle in the afternoon just to make the day feel a little different from the one before it.

Meals have been very simple lately. Comforting, familiar, nothing complicated. The kind of dinners that come together easily and don’t require much planning or cleanup. I’m craving ease more than creativity right now, and I’m leaning into that.

The kids are definitely feeling cooped up. Lots of indoor play, lots of energy with nowhere obvious to go. We’re all a bit ready to be outside more, to move without layers, to not think so hard about the weather before doing anything.

I’ve noticed I’m looking ahead more than usual. Thinking about the garden once everything finally melts. Saving recipes for spring. Imagining open windows and lighter evenings. It’s less about making plans and more about reminding myself that this part doesn’t last forever, even when it feels like it might. (Warm weather vacation needed ASAP)

Winter doesn’t always need to be romantic. Sometimes it’s just something to get through. For now, I’m waiting for the thaw and trusting it will come, eventually!

Until next week,
M

I’ve always loved the idea of a traditional Sunday supper: a big, cozy meal at the end of the weekend, shared before the rhythm of a new week begins. While we haven’t managed one every Sunday, it’s a ritual I’ve been trying to return to.

This past Sunday felt like a good place to start. I made a roast chicken with potatoes and carrots, followed by a chocolate bread pudding using some extra sourdough. As the chicken went into the oven, I sat on the couch with an old episode of Ina Garten’s Back to Basics playing in the background, needlepoint in hand, and thought - what could be better than this?

This is the kind of evening I hope to repeat: simple, seasonal, and unhurried. A table set not just for dinner, but for the feeling of coming back together - the menu changing quietly with the seasons.

Warmly,
Michelle

It’s hard to believe we’re already over halfway through January. This month has felt unmistakably like winter - snow, cold, and that slow, steady rhythm that comes with it. I can’t say this has ever been my favorite time of year, but I’ve been trying to meet it with a little more acceptance than I have in years past.

What this season is asking for: rest, especially after a busy end to 2025.

At home: appreciating the clean, quiet feeling that settles in once every wreath and decoration has been packed away.

Around the table: easing into a new routine of Sunday night chili, simmering away and waiting for us after a weekend of skiing.

There’s comfort in this slower stretch, even as we begin to look toward what’s next.

Until next week,
Michelle

2026 feels like a year of progress and preparation. Not everything will be done, but a lot will be thoughtfully underway.

Continuing the backyard project
The backyard is still very much a work in progress, and honestly, that’s part of the fun. This year we’re hoping to install a patio, finish and place the garden shed, and add more plantings to make everything feel a little softer and more established. I want it to feel comfortable and lived-in. A space we actually use, not just admire.

Starting the full house renovation process
We’re officially entering the planning phase of a full house renovation. Lots of thinking, measuring, decision-making, and probably second-guessing. The actual work may come later, but this feels like the year to slow down and do it right, with the house’s history always in mind.

Decluttering before renovating
Before we can renovate, we need to declutter… and there’s no way around that. Editing what we have, letting go of what we don’t need, and making room (physically and mentally) for what’s next. Not the most glamorous part, but maybe the most important.

Installing the garden & learning as I go
This is also the year I really want to learn how to garden… not just plant things and hope for the best. Installing the garden feels like the first step, but the bigger goal is learning through trial, error, and a lot of patience. I’m excited to see where it leads.

Nothing here feels rushed or flashy, and that feels right. 2026 is shaping up to be a year of steady progress, one thoughtful step at a time!

Warmly,
Michelle

Since we were traveling without kids, a long weekend - four days and three nights - was the perfect amount of time to truly settle in without being away for too long. We flew overnight on Wednesday, arriving in England bright and early Thursday morning. After landing, we picked up our car and drove straight to Estelle Manor, where we spent the remainder of the weekend.

While waiting for our room to be ready, we took a vintage Land Rover out for a woodland expedition, walking through the grounds with a guide before enjoying a lakeside snack. It was the perfect way to ease into the day - especially while running on very little sleep - and to learn more about the area. When we returned, our room was ready, and we were excited to settle in and regroup.

The aesthetic of the hotel was truly stunning, and our room was no exception. I gathered so much inspiration from the interiors. While not everything was exactly my style, I loved the layered, cozy feel throughout - from the fabrics and curated accessories to the abundance of candlelight glowing in every space. Beyond the interiors, the food was also outstanding. We ate at all three of the manor’s restaurants, enjoying Japanese, Chinese, and traditional British fare.

A major highlight of the trip was the Eynsham Baths, located directly on the property. Inspired by Roman bathing traditions, the thermal journey moves through six different experiences, from hot saunas and steam rooms to hot tubs and two invigorating cold plunges. I’ve always wanted to try something like this, and it did not disappoint. The bathhouse itself is also completely gorgeous - making it nearly impossible not to relax.

We ended the trip in the best possible way: reconnecting with friends who live nearby. A visit to England never feels complete without seeing them, and time spent together is always something I deeply look forward to.

Needless to say, we returned home ready to jump straight into the holidays as a full family - and I’ve already been daydreaming about a return visit. There truly is nothing like England at Christmastime.

Wishing you and yours a bright and beautiful start to 2026!

Warmly,
Michelle

Just a brief note today to wish you a very Merry Christmas Eve! I hope your day is filled with small, cozy moments and a little pause before the big holiday rush. We’ll be back here next Wednesday, settling into our regular rhythm.

Warmly,
Michelle

I’ll be sharing more details from this trip next week. Until then - dreaming up a return trip!

Warmly,
Michelle

The girls have started settling into a quieter rhythm. They’re still busy scratching around and chatting with each other, but everything feels softer and slower. I’ve been attempting to match their pace to find some calm in the chaos of the holiday season.

A surprise in the nest box

Just when I’d mentally committed to slowing down, the coop decided to surprise me!

I went out to check for eggs, expecting the familiar mix of brown and white shells from Nancy, Sally, and Willow and was shocked to see a green egg in the nesting box! I knew it had to be from Grey Lady, but didn’t expect it yet because she barely has a comb (the red part on the top of her head). It was such a fun surprise on an otherwise normal day!

Winter chores (and one cracked water bar)

My chores to keep the coop clean and warm have been pretty straightforward so far, but the recent freezing temperatures threw a wrench in things.

Recently I realized one of the nipples on our water bar was dripping. In my attempt to fix it, I confidently over-tightened it and cracked the plastic. The drip became a leak, and suddenly I had wet bedding, a backup water supply to figure out, and a much bigger project than I’d intended.

The girls were completely unbothered, but I was reminded that so much of this chicken keeping is equal parts learning curve and maintenance. Small things matter, and fixing something now usually prevents a bigger headache later. Thankfully T quickly came to the rescue and fixed everything (per usual).

Looking ahead

Each evening, after my last check for eggs and a final treat for the ladies, I rush back inside from the cold. I’m trying to enjoy the season, but already thinking ahead to spring projects (and warmer temperatures) with more plantings around the coop and the garden shed nearby with all my supplies. And before I know it, we will be up to six eggs per day instead of our current four (which already feels like so many!)

But for now, I’m following the chickens’ lead. They aren’t in a rush, and I’m trying not to be either.

Thanks for visiting The Chicken Box with me today!

Warmly,
Michelle

We decorated for Christmas this weekend, and every year I’m reminded how much I love this ritual. As soon as the bins come up from the basement, the whole house feels warmer and cozier.

The tree went up first. (While I love the idea of a real tree, we had an interesting experience our first year in this house and quickly pivoted to a faux one… but that’s a story for another week.) We spent the early afternoon unwrapping ornaments and remembering the fun trips and milestones that have shaped our family over the years.

Next came the stockings, lovingly handmade for each of us by my mother-in-law. I love that these were created with so much care, and I look forward to hanging and admiring them every December.

We kept things classic on the exterior - wreaths with simple bows and candles in the windows. It’s such a timeless look, and I don’t see us straying from it anytime soon. Once the sun goes down and the candles click on, the whole house instantly feels tucked-in and cozy.

Inside, the kids pulled out our little stack of Christmas books and scattered them around the tree, ready for reading sessions. We set up our nativity advent calendar and handed out their daily advent surprises - small traditions that make December feel magical without adding too much chaos (well… maybe just a little).

By late afternoon, The Nutcracker was playing softly in the background, a pine candle was flickering, and the house truly felt ready for the season.

Now that everything is up, it finally feels like the holidays have arrived. These small rituals, repeated year after year, are what make our house feel like home in December!

Warmly,
Michelle

With Thanksgiving approaching, I’ve been noticing the small joys tucked into these busy days. A few I’m especially grateful for:

• Quiet early mornings with a hot cup of coffee.
• Laughter and chaos, reminding me the season is full in the best way.
• Caldwell’s steady companionship, always somewhere nearby.
• A cozy kitchen, full of warmth and good smells.
• Feeling stronger, thanks to a more consistent workout rhythm.
• Little pockets of peace in the backyard and coop.
• This community, for reading each week.

Wishing you a warm, restful Thanksgiving week!

Warmly,
Michelle

Then I stumbled onto the Architectural Digest feature of Brunch with Babs’ Connecticut cottage renovation, and it was exactly the inspiration I didn’t know I needed. Her home has this warm, collected feel - what her designer described as “a big hug around you as soon as you walk in” - and everywhere you look, there are topiaries bringing that quintessential cottage charm indoors. They’re small, intentional touches, but they add so much life to her rooms.

It made me think: why not bring that same feeling into our own home?

So I picked up a few small myrtle topiaries. They add just the right touch of green without feeling like summer plants inside. They’re tidy and charming, with a bit of personality, and make me smile every time I walk past.

There’s something about topiaries that fits perfectly with this season. While everything outdoors begins to rest, these small, living sculptures bring a calming sense of order and beauty indoors. They remind me that even in this quieter, browner stretch of the year, we can surround ourselves with things that feel alive.

I’m already thinking of adding a few more (sorry Todd). Maybe a lemon cypress for December?!

If you’ve also been craving a bit of green lately, consider a tiny topiary. It’s such a simple shift, but it brings so much life to a room exactly when we need it most.

Warmly,
Michelle

A Tiny Myrtle Topiary Care Guide

If you’re thinking about adding a topiary or two to your own home, here’s what I’ve learned so far about keeping these little green beauties happy:

Light
Bright, indirect light is best. A sunny windowsill is fine as long as the afternoon sun isn’t too harsh.

Water
Myrtles like consistently even moisture - never totally dry, never soggy. I’ve been checking mine every day, and water when the top inch starts to feel dry.

Air Flow
They don’t like stuffy corners. A little airflow (not a heater vent) keeps them perky.

Trimming
A gentle haircut every few weeks keeps the shape tidy. Tiny snips only - think “maintaining,” not “reshaping.” I’ve yet to do this step, I’m a little nervous!

Temperature
Cooler rooms tend to be their happy place, especially at night. They don’t love blasting heat.

Potting
Keep them in a pot with good drainage. Terracotta works beautifully since it wicks moisture and helps prevent overwatering.

Wish me luck keeping these alive and thriving!

One of the questions I’ve gotten most often since bringing home our hens is: what do you do with them in the winter?

I wondered the same thing at first. After plenty of reading, chatting with a few local chicken keepers, and a little trial and error, I finally spent the past weekend winterizing the coop for the season ahead.

I started by spreading hemp bedding throughout the entire space. Until now, I’d only used it inside their sleeping area, but I decided to cover the whole coop this year. Hemp is wonderfully absorbent and low in dust, and it even gives off a bit of natural warmth as it composts - a nice bonus when the temperatures drop.

Some people use ceramic or radiant heaters, but I decided to skip them for now. I don’t have a great spot to hang one safely, and with a solid roof overhead, snow won’t blow directly inside. Chickens are tougher than they look, and between the deep bedding and good ventilation, they’ll stay cozy enough on their own.

To keep their water from freezing, I’ll be dropping a small heater into the rain barrel and using a circulator to keep things moving. And if we end up with one of those truly frigid New England cold snaps, I’ll add clear vinyl panels around part of the run to block the wind.

For now, the ladies seem content - scratching around, fluffing their feathers, and settling into their first winter at The Chicken Box.

There’s something comforting about knowing the coop - and everyone inside - is settling in for winter, ready to slow down a little until spring!

Warmly,
Michelle

Our Menu This Year
Breakfast: frittata with eggs from our hens, fresh fruit, cinnamon rolls from our local sourdough bakery, and mimosas.
Snacks: baked Brie, a charcuterie board, and squash turnovers while the turkey roasts.
Dinner: roast turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, roasted carrots, and Brussels sprouts salad.
Dessert: apple pie with ice cream and pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

And throughout the day, there’s always something bubbling - champagne to start, wine with dinner, and maybe one more toast before dessert.

Thanksgiving morning always begins with the parade on TV and coffee in hand. By dinner, the house feels full in every sense - of food, laughter, and the kind of chaos that makes the day memorable.

Wishing you a cozy start to the season and a little calm before the cranberry sauce!

Warmly,
Michelle

This month has me setting an intention to slow down a bit as we head into the hustle and bustle of the holidays. Here’s hoping you find some calm in your own chaos, too.

Warmly,
Michelle

The backyard was busy too - the swing set was installed, and it already feels like it’s been there forever. We strung up patio lights, pulled out the heaters, and hosted an outdoor happy hour, where everyone lingered past dark until it got too chilly.

There were calmer moments too - s’mores and a short walk through the woods, a stop at the fall carnival, and a round of coop chores that made the weekend end on a productive note.

It was a weekend that left me tired in the best way, full of time being home, outdoors, and together.

Wishing you a cozy, happy rest of the week - with a little time to slow down and savor the season!

Warmly,
Michelle