Sometimes the longer you wait, the harder it feels to begin again.

That’s how it’s felt here, in this little corner where I’ve always shared what’s on my mind and in my heart. When I wrote to you last in February, I fully expected to bring you along step by step as we opened Norwood’s Vineyard. But somewhere between all the building, planning, and hosting, life happened, and the quiet stretched longer than I intended.

In truth, giving birth to Norwood’s Vineyard has felt a little like becoming a mom of two. L’Eau Hill, our beloved first, has grown into itself beautifully…a graceful teenager in many ways, with a rhythm and identity that feels familiar. But the vineyard has been a whole new kind of child: full of its own personality, surprises, and needs that I couldn’t have anticipated. And like most moms of two will tell you, no two children are the same. What worked for the first didn’t always work for the second, and figuring that out has taken time, energy, and a lot of love.

That difference has been a gift because it’s forced me to stop and rethink everything. Not just the spaces themselves, but the way we welcome people into them. The way we share what we’re building. Even the way I write to you.

So much has changed in these past few months, and yet so much has stayed beautifully the same.

We’ve spent these months not just opening doors, but making sure the doors we opened were worth walking through. In May, we finally opened Norwood’s Vineyard — a place that’s been part of our family for nearly a century, and is now finding new life as a gathering place for weddings, celebrations, and quiet pauses. We’ve already hosted a spring Easter egg hunt, a beautiful garden party, a baby shower in the orchard, and we’ll share more of those moments with you soon. L’Eau Hill, too, has grown into her next season, with overnight stays and a full calendar of summer celebrations. We’re fully booked into fall.

And yet in the middle of all that building, I realized how long it had been since I’d sat down with even just a handful of people who matter to me. How easy it is to let time slip, thinking you’ll call, you’ll plan, you’ll make time… someday.

So this summer, we decided to make someday easier and thus “The Sunday Table” was born.

For all the big moments we help our clients create, there is something just as meaningful about making space for the handful — the small gatherings, the ones you’ve been putting off, the people you’ve been meaning to call. Once a month at the vineyard, we set aside a Sunday just for that. We call it The Sunday Table. We clear the calendar, style six beautifully dressed tables with a surprise seasonal theme, pour the wine, and let you bring what (and who) matters most. No pressure, no grand production just an easy, beautiful invitation to reconnect.

We hope you’ll join us this month for our first Sunday Table on Sunday, June 27th, and perhaps even feel inspired to create your own version wherever you are. Whether it’s at our table or yours, we believe that if the table is set, the people will come.

And as for our monthly notes to you. We’re calling this space Le Clé (french for the key), because that’s what these stories feel like to me. Little keys you can pick up and use however you need: for inspiration, for permission, for connection. I can’t wait to share more of what we’ve been learning and creating, both at the vineyard and at home, in the weeks ahead.

So in short, it’s been a while. And that’s okay.

We’ve missed you. And our Sunday table is waiting.

Until next time,
Erika

We Saved You a Seat

So much has changed in these past few months, and yet so much has stayed beautifully the same.

So this summer, we decided to make someday easier and thus “The Sunday Table” was born.

The Wisdom of Doing One Thing Well: A Lesson in Hospitality and Life