I’m actually one of those schmaltzy souls who does count blessings instead of sheep before I go to sleep (thank you, Irving Berlin). Sometimes I replay the mental videotapes of my all-time favorite moments and days. The instant they handed my daughter, Katie, to me in that small hotel in China. Slow-dancing with the sweet man I married in my Moorlands living room. Creating St. Louis At Home.
For umpteen days in late 2004 and early 2005, the incredibly talented Beth Pruett, the founding art director, turned my bits and pieces of pictures torn out of other magazines, sketches I doodled, and headlines I wrote into possible pages for our brand new publication. As soon as I was told that At Home would be published as its own stand-alone magazine, I knew what it had to be: the ultimate guide to absolutely everything related to the house. After years of living in different cities and countless hours of tracking down the best in everything from carpet cleaners to plumbers, I wanted that information in one easy-to-reach place. I suspected others did, too. I was so thrilled with every subscription we received, I personally wrote each new reader a thank-you note.
Over the ensuing decade, the magazine matured and the look turned tonier, thanks to its second amazing art director, Lindsay Hotz Timme. We’ve worked with photographers, like Alise O’Brien, who have an eye for perfection. Stylists John Fletcher and Kathy Curotto helped us create covers that sparkled and shined. The writers on staff—Jeannette Cooperman, Nancy Curtis, Jarrett Medlin, Stefene Russell, and William Powell—each brought passion and insight to their many stories. A small army of freelancers added fresh perspectives with their ideas and pieces.
And in every issue, I’ve had the opportunity to share the ups, downs, and all-arounds of my life with you. So, I want to thank each and every reader who has written me a note or come up to me in the grocery store, Target, and beyond to say how they turn to this page first, how much they either enjoyed the column or shared my angst.
But now, to quote another famous songwriter, “There’s a sad sort of clanging from the clock on the wall” and I need to bid you adieu. This will be my last editor’s note for At Home. The time has come to pursue a new challenge. I won’t be far. I just won’t be here.
I leave with a heavy heart, but I’m excited about new possibilities. I will miss you all. And I thank you.
