In all the years I have lived in California, I had never made my way down to San Diego. When a work opportunity popped up there last fall, my initial reaction was to disregard it. I hadn’t had any desire to go to San Diego let alone move there.
The company was persuasive and offered me a trip to come down and visit. After meeting with them for a full day, I drove at sunset along the coast, through La Jolla and snapped this:
Two weeks later, I moved.
Initially, I thought finding a home would be hard. My cottage in Santa Barbara was so peaceful, so lovely, and so, well, me, that I thought with all the vacation-rental, 80′s condo’s filled with blue carpet that seemed to be everywhere in San Diego, I wouldn’t be able to find the right place.
But I did.
A 1928 cottage by the sea, aptly called, “Dream Cottage.” It’s one block from the beach, with two large and private yards, a fireplace and white, white walls. The cottage had been in the same family for over 40 years and you felt that vibe inside. I bought my first grown-up table here (the West Elm Emerson table I had coveted for years!) and had lots of morning coffee (a new thing for me), had my mum visit with me and one of my sweetest friends and her husband stay for a few days. There were lots of long conversations on the couch, nights spent in the backyard watching stars and many, many trips down to the cove.
In two weeks, I’ll be leaving my cottage as work takes me back to my adopted hometown, Santa Monica. I’ll be going between there and Santa Barbara all summer long for work, friends, and play. It’s going to be a great one.
But before I leave, I wanted to share a few captures of the cottage: