Hey, beautiful ones—

I just wanted to drop in with a little love note to check on you—no big announcements, no heavy lists, just a gentle nudge to pause and breathe.

Things have been a bit crunchy on my end lately. You know those weeks when everything feels like it's grinding a little too loud? Yeah. That kind. But I keep reminding myself—life gets crunchy, and we get to stir it until it turns into peanut butter. Smooth-ish, comforting, and still good on toast.

Over the next couple weekends, I’ll be spending some quiet time in the store—working on creative projects, letting ideas stretch out, and catching my breath before things get busier in May. If you’re local, feel free to stop in and say hi. If not, just know I’m lighting a candle in here, probably spilling a little wax, and thinking about all of you doing your own beautiful work out there.

And speaking of self-care—I finally booked that massage I’ve been putting off. (Can we just take a collective breath for that tiny win?) I might go to an open mic afterward, or I might float straight home and tuck my feet under a blanket. We’ll see what the evening wants to be.

I’d love to know—how are you tending to yourself this weekend? Are you taking time to rest? Creating something with your hands? Sitting quietly with your thoughts? Or maybe even just organizing your kitchen drawer while playing your favorite playlist—that counts too, by the way.

Also—my grass is out here trying to reclaim the land. I may or may not have seen a shadow that looked like Simba. I need to connect with my teen lawn whisperer soon. And I’m flirting with container gardening… anyone out there have tips? Favorite herbs? I’m all ears and open soil.

If you’re not local but still want to support or surround yourself with a little beauty, I’ve added fresh restocks over on the website. Think rich, nourishing soaps, soft-burning candles, and things made to remind you to slow down:

www.liberateandlather.com

Whether you’re planting something, writing something, cleaning something, or just doing nothing this weekend—I hope you let it be enough. You don’t have to earn rest. You don’t have to perform peace.

You have to keep showing up as yourself, one breath, one brushstroke, one small shift at a time.

I Am Out,

Angie