Before the Details Appear

A winter pause, forward momentum, and the beauty of watching a vision take shape

It’s Saturday, January 24, 2026, and winter has settled in fully. Cold air, ice on the ground, the kind of stillness that makes everything feel sharper and more alive at the same time. It feels like the right moment to share what’s happening at The Essex Ranch… our first blog of the year, and one that marks a subtle but meaningful shift.

As the new year begins to move, so does the ranch. The things I love most about this process- the layers, the details, the decisions that quietly build on one another… are no longer abstract ideas. They’re beginning to reveal themselves, one piece at a time. After so much planning and patience, there’s a sense that everything is gaining momentum in the most reassuring way.

A New Year, a New Phase

A quiet moment in the main house as the structure takes shape and the details wait their turn.

Weekly meetings have become a familiar rhythm. We sit down, review what’s next, refine what’s already been decided, and slowly bring clarity to spaces that have lived in our imaginations for years. It’s no longer about imagining what could be. It’s about watching it take shape.

Trusting the Process

I feel incredibly grateful for our designer / builder and creative partner through this process. This is the second project we’ve worked on together, and that trust matters. There’s an ease that comes with it now… an understanding that allows ideas to move freely and take form. If Shon has a vision, or if I do, there’s an instinctive ability to translate it into something real… even when I’m still finding clarity myself. That creative partnership has been one of the greatest gifts of this build.

What I’ve learned along the way is that seeing the vision doesn’t always happen immediately. Sometimes it takes exercises, conversations, revisions, and patience. Early on, the ranch moved through different identities- a more traditional Texas ranch, then something looser and less expected.

When the Vision Became Clear

At some point, it became clear that while I appreciate rustic beauty, it isn’t entirely who we are. What began to emerge instead was something more refined, something softer. The closest comparison we’ve found is a Napa Valley–inspired ranch… not a replica, but a feeling. And once that realization settled in, the decisions began to make sense.

Now, those choices are materializing.

Where Things Stand Now

Guest house bedroom walls are finished, and bathroom tile is preparing to begin. Pool house floors are going in, the pool has been poured, and the gunite applied. In the main house, the double-sided fireplace is complete, stonework has been finished at the entry and throughout the glass corridors, and flooring begins next week. Each step feels like a quiet confirmation… not rushed, not forced- just right.

There’s still plenty to decide, of course. But what no longer feels present is pressure. With each trip to review lighting, cabinetry, or fixtures, something unexpected has a way of presenting itself at exactly the right moment. Rather than choosing simply to have something decided, we’ve learned to leave room for the right selections to find us.

And they always seem to.

Letting the Right Details Find Us

Some pieces don’t need explanation- they simply belong.

One moment that perfectly captures how this process tends to unfold happened during what was meant to be a straightforward trip to look at cabinetry. While we were there, something else made itself known… a flotation tub unlike anything I’d seen before. Calling it a bathtub feels inadequate. It was more of a luxury bathing experience… sculptural, intentional, calming.

Tubs have always mattered to me. There’s something grounding about water, about stillness, about creating space to slow down. In our current home, the only tub somehow became Ladybird’s. She is, of course, a princess and expects nothing less. But the truth is, that tub was never quite right for me. It was oversized, slippery, and awkward, and early on I knew the ranch needed something different. I had imagined three distinct tubs, each with its own purpose, along with a thoughtfully designed dog wash for Ladybird and Bunni.

Standing there in the showroom, I looked at April and said, “This is why we’re here.” Within minutes, measurements were pulled up and the wet room layout reconsidered. By removing a glass wall and reworking the shower, the room suddenly made perfect sense. It felt as though the tub had been waiting for us all along.

That moment also clarified something else. Across from the wet room, we had planned for a sauna. I had very specific requirements- high-tech controls, remote operation, all the bells and whistles… but none of the designs felt right. Eventually, I let go of the technology in favor of something far more beautiful. When we discovered the sauna that ultimately won us over, its soft curves and understated presence paired perfectly with the tub. Two pieces, chosen independently, suddenly belonged together. The space found its balance.

That’s how so many of these decisions have come together. Not through force, but through alignment.

Lessons Beyond the Build

I understand how it might sound to linger on a bathtub or a sauna when there are far bigger things happening in the world. Even as I write this, snow and ice cover the ground outside my window, and the quiet feels especially pronounced. We’re home in the city for now, while the ranch rests in winter. It’s thirteen degrees, and everything looks like a temporary wonderland. Next year at this time, we’ll be fully moved in… a thought that still catches me by surprise.

By then, the weekly meetings will be behind us. The selections will be finished. The details we’ve poured so much thought into will simply exist as part of everyday life. What feels like a long stretch of decision-making now will have quietly become memory.

In the meantime, we’ve been preparing in other ways too. I’ve been taking riding lessons. Horses are humbling creatures… majestic, intuitive, and entirely honest. Some days the lesson goes smoothly. Other days, it doesn’t. One afternoon, my horse decided to lie down in the middle of the arena, saddle and all. I didn’t panic. I didn’t rush. I simply found my way off, regrouped, and got back on. The lesson wasn’t lost on me.

There’s something about those moments… the unexpected ones… that remind you growth isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. About trust. About continuing forward even when things don’t go exactly as planned.

As we move through these early weeks of 2026, there’s a calm confidence settling in. There are still decisions ahead, but they no longer feel heavy. We’ve learned that the right ones tend to appear when we leave room for them. Rather than rushing to fill every space, we’re allowing the ranch to reveal itself in its own time.

The next few months will move quickly. Floors will be laid. Spaces will gain character. The vision we’ve carried for so long will become tangible in ways that feel both exciting and grounding. And when it does, I know it will feel earned.

For now, I’m grateful. For the process. For the people guiding it alongside us. For the patience we’ve learned. And for this moment… when everything is coming together, one thoughtful decision at a time.

There’s so much more ahead, and I look forward to sharing it with you as it unfolds.

With gratitude,

The Essex Ranch