Where It All Began
The Sweet Elm is rooted in the women who raised me – and the kitchens where I learned what hospitality really looks like.
My Grandma Juanita was a true country cook. Her kitchen was always alive – coffee brewing, bacon sizzling, onions and potatoes frying in a well-seasoned cast iron pan. There was always something simmering on the stove, something growing in the garden, and something to snack on if you happened to wander through. I watched her dig potatoes, snap string beans, can vegetables, churn ice cream, make soup, bake pound cakes, and work with her hands. She believed in staying busy, keeping a tidy home, and being ready for whoever might knock on the door. She also enjoyed a nice bourbon highball at the end of the long day. Perhaps this is where my love for good stuff began?
Then there was Grandma Wanda – a working woman in the Mad Men era who wore suits, stockings, gold rings, and confidence. Her kitchen looked very different. She loved restaurants, takeout, simple meals, and perfectly executed entertaining. She believed in mastering a few dishes, getting all the details right, and never making life harder than it needed to be. Her home was carefully curated with art, fine furniture, and treasured vintage finds. She introduced me to Southern Living, Martha Stewart Living, to cocktails and appetizers, to big-batch drinks and well-set bars. She taught me that you don’t need to cook everything from scratch to be a great host – and that women can be stylish, savvy, ambitious, and still choose ease.
Between these two women, I learned everything that shapes The Sweet Elm today:
The value of hard work and hospitality, the beauty of simplicity, the importance of ease, the joy of gathering and the confidence to do things your own way.
I carried these lessons into my own life – being a wife for over 30 years, raising three children, and building a demanding career. Like so many women, I spent years balancing work, family, business travel, and the constant desire to “get it right” at home. Some seasons were beautifully homemade; others relied heavily on takeout, shortcuts, and grace. What I learned is this: balance isn’t about doing everything – it’s about knowing when to simplify, when to ask for help, and when “good enough” is exactly right.
After retiring from corporate life, I stepped into this next chapter with curiosity and a deep desire to keep learning. I’ve always been drawn to new ideas, new skills, and new places – whether that’s trying a new recipe, learning a craft, or planning a travel adventure for my family. Travel has long fueled my sense of wonder and reinforces my belief that the world – like the kitchen – is best experienced slowly, thoughtfully, and together.
The Sweet Elm lives in that balance – between homemade and store bought, between tradition and modern life, between effort and ease. It’s where legacy meets real life.
To both of these women – and to the family I’ve built along the way – my husband and my children – thank you. I carry your influence with me every day and hope I’ve created something that makes you proud.