On Seasons Changing… And What We’re Building Next.
I’ve been thinking a lot about seasons lately - how they shift in ways that are gentle and unmistakable at the same time. Thanksgiving was beautiful for us, full in the ways that matter. And somewhere between the quiet moments and the noise, I felt something in me turning, asking for a new chapter.
Somewhere in the stillness of the last few weeks, something in me settled. And that’s how I arrived here today, writing you under a new name: Sunday Paper.
Sunday Paper isn’t about Sundays, or even paper. It’s about the feeling a Sunday paper used to give us — that slow-read, artful pause where life, community, and creativity all lived together on one page. That’s the energy I want to bring into this next chapter.
You also may have noticed you’re receiving this from LaClé, the new home for my creative work. Pronounced “la-clay,” meaning “the key” — my quiet nod to unlocking what’s possible in our stories, homes, and creative lives. The reflections, audio projects, teachings, gatherings, and stories I’m building now and into next year. This SundayPaper will live inside LaClé, as its written heartbeat where I show up with you in long form.
Another shift this season is happening at L’Eau Hill.
Nothing dramatic…in fact, everything beautiful. Hosting at L’Eau Hill has been a joy for four years, but we realized we were giving the house away so much that we no longer had space to create inside it. That home birthed my first book Love, You, my mother’s business Always June, my sister’s floating sound baths. And right now, it’s calling us back to that original purpose: a creative home studio for building, dreaming, and quietly making again.
We’re not closing the doors forever. L’Eau Hill will still host select experiences led by us, but not outside events. I’m stepping deeper into advising others, helping landowners reimagine property as legacy, building Norwood’s Ranch and developing new hospitality work with my mom and sister. All of that, the teaching, the classes and conversations we will host, the creative body of work, will be held under LaClé but birthed right here at L’Eau Hill.
And then there is the vineyard.
In the spirit of new seasons and new traditions, Norwood’s Vineyard has become the place where our love of hosting continues to expand outward.
Last year, long before we had a functioning venue, I kept imagining “Christmas at the Vineyard.” I saw twinkling lights, people gathering, children playing, families wandering through the vines. I thought it would be big—lights everywhere, installations, spectacle.
But the more this holiday season unfolded, the more I realized:
what our community needs isn’t extravagance.
It’s invitation.
So instead of building a giant holiday production that lasts only a few days, we created something better: a full month of beautiful, meaningful ways to gather. A place where the holidays could feel nostalgic again.
This month we’ve transformed our indoor Living Garden Room into a wonderful holiday backdrop where we will host a different experience every weekend:
Grandma’s House Holiday Pop-Up Market (my version of the infamous Rich Auntie Sale, but cozier and more sentimental and on the south-side)
A visit with Santa & Gingerbread-Making Workshop
Cocoa & Cookie Decorating with Mrs. Claus
The Holiday Gift Wrap Bar by Always June
Mimosas & Memoirs: Gifting Your Voice to the World, a conversation about how Love, You book was born, how your own journal can become a legacy, and how our stories, no matter the season we’re in, can be gifts that we share with others with real shelf life.
These gatherings are intentional. All free and accessible so that everyone can attend. It’s our small gift back to the community that has given us so much over the years. A place for kids to wander and for adults to exhale with friends, family or complete strangers. A place to create new traditions whether you come from a big family or you’re walking into the holidays holding more anxiety and questions than answers.
I’m excited for this month. I’m excited for the newness of it all.
And I’m grateful you’re here - still reading, still walking with us through every version of what we’re becoming.
I hope to see you at the vineyard.
With love,
Erika