Remember our dear Ramsey—the sweet ceramic ram who watched over us while we slept? He was a beloved little presence in our home and even inspired Burger to strike a yoga pose now and then. Sadly, Ramsey won’t be with us anymore.
He fell from the kitchen wall where we’d temporarily hung him for a book vignette above the fireplace. No one was in the room to catch him. It was a small, strange, silent loss, and we felt a little silly and a little sad all at once. John and I both miss that knowing little face staring down at our bed.
These past three weeks have been a whirlwind of book photography: cameras, crew, props, and a million tiny logistics. It felt a bit like trying to navigate laser beams in a movie scene—only clumsier. On our penultimate day of shooting, Ramsey became our first casualty. Poor guy. Now we have a gap on the wall and in our hearts while we decide whether to replace him with another not-creepy-at-all ceramic animal.
Speaking of the book shoots (can you believe our last update was three weeks ago?), we thought we’d share a few behind-the-scenes highlights from the 21 intense, exhausting, and exhilarating days of bringing this manuscript to life. We transformed stacks of paper into a real, tangible book that now needs layout, design, and printing. The plan is to open preorders this summer with release in the fall—so yes, the excitement is real.
We photographed more than 2,000 images and narrowed those down to roughly 200 final shots. We explored a lot of angles, details, and variations—usually keeping about one in ten photos. Yesterday we shot three different cover concepts. We were a little freaked about seeing our faces on the cover for years to come, so it was a relief that the designs worked well, especially when they didn’t require our awkward smiles front-and-center. We can’t wait to see which one they choose.
We’d love to spill everything right away, but for now we’re holding back so the book launch will still feel like an event this fall. In the meantime, here’s what life looked like during the shoot: the playroom got repainted multiple times—seriously, about nine different colors went up on those walls. Each section was assigned a different hue to spotlight specific shots, so the book wouldn’t be dominated by the same few colors that already live in our house.
Shuffling furniture and props around to accommodate shooting schedules meant pieces of the playroom lived temporarily in the sunroom, guest room, bedroom, and dining room. After a few color changes we started to tire of constant repainting, but by the eighth or ninth coat it felt like second nature. We even stenciled a wall for a special shot just last night.
There was a lot of hands-on work involved: gluing, taping, spray painting, dyeing, stenciling, staining, and more. For process shots we kept hands protected so they wouldn’t look messy on camera—hence the dark nail polish I’ve been wearing to hide any trapped paint, and John’s rubber gloves when needed. Clara loved watching the shoot and got to know the crew quickly. She would greet the photographer Kip Dawkins with a joyful “Hi Kip! Hi Kip!” and learned everyone’s names and even their cars. We’re grateful John’s parents could help out on hectic days so things wouldn’t overwhelm her.
For many of the process photos we laid projects on the floor and shot from a distance, using a seamless background to keep the images uncluttered. Most finished shots were styled “in situation,” placed somewhere in our home so they feel lived‑in, even if the exact arrangement won’t look familiar once the book is published. Overhead reflectors kept lighting consistent—we joked they were sails and pretended we were on a boat for a moment of daydreaming.
Burger handled all the chaos like a pro and even made it into a handful of shots. At one point we realized our house hadn’t looked this disordered since moving day: we carried the guest bed around the house for different scenes, which really showed just how huge our living space is. We borrowed furniture from local shops to accommodate certain shots, too, which helped make some vignettes feel more natural.
To the incredible crew who felt like family after nearly a month of living with us: thank you. To our readers, thank you for the patience while we juggled the kitchen redo, a few household mishaps, and Portland prep—comments may have been slower than usual, but your support meant everything. And a special nod to dark chocolate for keeping our energy up when we weren’t drinking coffee.
Have you torn your house apart for a project lately? Broken anything sentimental? Or bonded with a group of strangers so well you know their favorite music and food? It’s wild how much can happen in a few months. For those curious, you can find our earlier book-related posts on the blog for more context about this journey.