Laughing So I Don't Cry
This post was taken from Cultivating the Beautiful Life, my Substack newsletter. Subscribe here.
When Stuart and I got married, we were encouraged by those much wiser than us to laugh when we wanted to cry (but don’t get me wrong — sometimes you need to have a good long cry, too!)
Like when our son Owen dropped a full jar of milk on the floor, showering the kitchen and wool rugs in glass shards and cream. Laughter broke out through the entire house.
When we said our final goodbyes to my Grandpa, we found ourselves giggling and holding onto each other in his presence. Our hearts were breaking — we had to find a way through.
For us, laughter has always taken the excess out of the sadness, the fatigue, out of the ridiculousness of life. It has a wonderful way of taking away power.
So does beauty.
“Go spend time with the pigs…” Stuart used to encourage me, knowing that I would take the long way to the pig-pen (now the garden) and pass the flowers, the chickens, and plenty of beauty along the path. One simply can’t be angry and sad when they watch chickens peck the ground, watching pigs snuffling up grain, or bumble bees toddle between the comfrey flowers.
I would, and still do, find calm and peace amongst the animals and in the beautiful flower gardens that we’ve spent the last ten years creating. In our home, we call this time of stepping away “taking a t” … a grown-up time out that is meant to give the volatile party a chance to regain a bit of clarify and perspective. To laugh at the cats jumping onto fence posts, to notice the new ferns unfurling, to just be for a moment.
Beauty and laughter can work wonders.
Today, I invite you to come along with me in this video as I share all the imperfect pieces of normal life in our home. To be fully transparent, I share with you to bring pleasure and joy to some otherwise frustrating pieces.
Sometimes these messy bits make me want to cry. Instead, I hope you can joy me in laughing at the windows that haven’t been trimmed in eight years, the weeds, and the wonderfully normal, dirty, unfinished pieces of my life.
If you were to visit my home, here’s what you’d really find. Welcome.
For all that isn’t great, here’s what’s going well: my spring dessert table. A red-checked tablecloth, flicker of a well-placed candle, and a bit of sunshine spilling through the kitchen window to make it all the more glorious.
Strawberry Jam & Rhubarb Crumble
Because many of us grew up eating crumble, we can take for granted how wonderful, simple, and delicious a dish like this can be. This is my favorite crumble recipe — the sweet topping of almonds, oats, flour and butter crisp up perfectly and act as a textural counterpoint to the soft and tart rhubarb. You can replace the jam and rhubarb with any jam and fruit combination of your choosing.
Ingredients:
1 cup flour
⅔ cup powdered sugar
Zest from 1 lemon
16 tablespoons butter, cut into ½” cubes
½ cup rolled oats
¼ cup sliced almonds
12 ounces strawberry jam
1 pound rhubarb, cut into 2” pieces
Vanilla bean ice cream, for serving
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
Combine all of the crumble ingredients in a large bowl. Use your hands to combine the mixture well and work the butter into the flour with your fingertips. Continue to mix with your fingertips until the flour has been worked into the butter and no major dry pockets of flour remain.
Spread the jam onto the bottom of a 13x9 pan. Spread the rhubarb pieces around evenly on the bottom of the baking dish. Sprinkle the crumble mixture evenly over the top of the rhubarb.
Bake for 30-40 minutes, until the rhubarb is bubbling up and the top of the crumble is golden.
Serve with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, Greek yogurt, or sweetened mascarpone.
Life “doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful” (Myquillyn Smith). I hope you can laugh at your life’s imperfections today, too.
PS: April 2026 Che Vita Getaway trips are opening up soon! If you’d like to share a spectacular week in the heart of Italy together, you can be the first to learn more here.
