Sewing Seasons & Summer in Telgárt

I’ve written so many blog posts these past few months, but none of them ever made it to publish. Since May, life has felt like a bit of a roller coaster—not because anything huge is happening, but because my energy has been poured into something new: sewing. I’ve fallen in love with it.

But with that love came a creative shift I didn’t expect.

I haven’t figured out how to share my sewing yet—not in a way that feels natural. It takes a lot of time and intention to photograph the clothing I make, especially since I’m also the one behind the camera. I don’t always have the energy or margin to model, shoot, edit, and write. And so… I haven’t.

As I sit and write this, I’m noticing something else.

It’s not just blogging that slowed down.

I’ve stopped painting.

I’ve stopped journaling.

I’ve paused A Year to Inspire.

And that’s okay.

Because this year, I’ve also started doing other things well.

I’ve taken better care of my health.

I’ve cared more intentionally for my balcony garden and roses.

I’ve spent more time in the Word, doing Bible studies, soaking in scripture.

And yes, I’ve been sewing—a lot.

That’s a quiet kind of update for you. But what I really wanted to share today are some photos from our summer trip with my husband’s family. I feel incredibly thankful for them. I love and appreciate them deeply—they’ve truly become my family.

This year, instead of a trip abroad, we stayed local and traveled to Telgárt, a small village nestled in the Slovak countryside. While it felt like the middle of nowhere to me, a friend of mine immediately knew the place and all its hidden treasures.

And she was right.

Telgárt was beautiful.

Usually, we head to Croatia for a beach holiday, but this summer we stayed in Slovakia. For the first time in maybe six or seven years, we didn’t leave the country, and—surprisingly—I’m completely okay with that. Actually, I needed it. A slower summer. A chance to stay, rest, and root deeper. A moment to refocus on healing, health, and creativity that isn’t tied to performance or output.


Our first day in Telgárt we hiked for hours—up a summit 3,000 feet high and back down again to our village. It was the biggest hike I’ve ever done in my life, and I’m genuinely so proud of that. Four years ago, I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it. My body has grown stronger and that alone is something to celebrate. The view from the top was stunning, and yes—it was freezing. Actually, the entire trip was cold, but we were lucky. While much of Europe was dealing with extreme weather disasters, we were simply bundled up.

The next day, I dressed for a casual walk… only to discover my husband’s family doesn’t really know what a “walk” means—it turned into another mini hike. My outfit may have been impractical, but the clouds were dreamy and the scenery breathtaking. I could’ve stayed in that field photographing for hours.

One of our last outings was a quick train ride to a turquoise lake, tucked away like a hidden gem. It was a simple trip, really. Nothing flashy. Just peaceful, beautiful, and full of good conversation and quiet joy.

Sometimes the quiet seasons, the ones without grand plans or exotic views, are the ones that shape us most.

This summer isn’t what I expected.

But it’s everything I didn’t know I needed.

Staying close to home, creating slowly, traveling simply, and healing deeply—it’s all part of this new rhythm.

What does your summer need this year?

Maybe it’s not a plane ticket. Maybe it’s just space.

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Wild Roses and Quiet Roots: A Walk at the Garden Cottage