Squarespace

You don't need to download and install any software. Squarespace is a web-based service, so you don't need hosting in order to use it. You pay a subscription fee that covers your hosting costs and access to the content management interface. A Squarespace subscription costs about the same as hosting regular web site.

But what exactly is a content management system (CMS)?

A CMS is a tool that allows users to edit text, photos and other files on a website via a WYSIWYG editor (What You See Is What You Get). Updating content is as easy as editing an MS Word document or sending an email. No specialized coding experience needed.

This is what the editing interface looks like as I created this post.

What's really cool about Squarespace as a web-based product is that you can access your site and the editing interface from any computer connected to the internet. Squarespace even has a few great mobile apps that will allow you to make certain updates to your site directly from a mobile device.

I <3 Squarespace!

And while I have developed web sites using other platforms, I strongly recommend Squarespace to most of my clients for the simple reasons outlined below. I have no affiliation with Squarespace, just great affection.

Squarespace:

• Empowers even the most technically-challenged to be able to make content changes to their site;
• Allows for the rapid development of a professional web site at a reasonably low price;
• Is totally customizable and includes features such as blogs, photo galleries and custom forms; and
• Is a supported service, which means there's always someone available to help.

When Julie Guyot first asked me to be a part of the Take Out Project, my original plan was to host a dinner party for friends to explain the project and our hopes for building community through slower, more personal and purposeful gatherings.

And then my grandmother passed away unexpectedly.

Devastated and hollowed, I asked Julie if I could take one of her handmade ceramic serving dishes home with me for the holidays. Grieving the loss, I thought what better tribute than to gather my family around a table sharing stories and memories of my Mimi.

Sadly, we never found the quiet, reflective moment I was hoping for. While I was home, my grandfather went into the hospital and steadily declined over the holidays. He went into Hospice shortly thereafter and passed within the week. Needless to say, it was a rough season. My mom losing both her parents in a month's time - our minds and hearts were all over the place.

When my Pop Pops fell ill, our days grew long and unstructured. Eating became more mechanical. I was disappointed that the opportunity passed us by, but didn't want to appear too upset for fear of making anyone feel worse than they already did.

So I once again packed up the serving dish and carried it with me.

Time and space is what I felt I needed. My new plan was to make my Pop Pop's famous spaghetti and antipasto recipe for myself. I knew this wasn't in alignment with the original intent of the Take Out Project, but felt it could serve as reminder of the power and potential of the project... to heal.

Perhaps one of the most unexpected moments of true connection came when I went shopping for the ingredients for my Pop Pops antipasto. The recipe called for a bevy of meats and cheeses, none of which I had at home or would be likely to use again. Knowing that I was making this recipe for one, I didn't want to buy and subsequently waste more than I'd be able to eat. I approached the deli with a feeling of hesitation and guilt for the annoying order I was about to unleash on some poor deli clerk - requesting just a couple slices of salami and a single slice of four different cheeses. I decided to preface my order with an explanation of my intent, of the Take Out Project, my grandparents and the recipe. Maritza, the deli clerk, listened patiently and smiled. She helped me through my order and, at the end, even remarked "That wasn't so bad." Then, right before I turned to leave, she looked me in the eye  and, with the utmost sincerity, told me she was sorry for my loss.

In preparing the meal I felt a certain sense of duty to follow the recipe as close as possible. The original instructions, inked by my Pop Pops' hand, included a few special notes about who liked what and in what quantities. "Becky and Chuck like a lot of cheeses and meats. Judy only eats cuckes." So I feel like my decision not to include anchovies would have been supported since it was obvious my Pop Pops cared more about everyone enjoying the meal than strictly following the recipe. As I was carefully slicing and arranging the ingredients on Julie's handmade platter I got the sense he was looking over my shoulder, making sure I got it just right.

In the end, it wasn't the food I made, the candle I lit or the glass I raised, but the thought and care I put into each choice. It was the mindfulness of it all. I was able to savor all the best of the moment - all the best of my Mimi and Pop Pops.

The Take Out Project, a ceramics sharing program, is the brainchild of Tallahassee artist Julie Guyot. The idea is a simple one, but many folks have a hard time grasping there's no cost or catch. The Take Out Project loans out a handmade ceramic piece, perhaps a serving dish or a pair of mugs. Using the piece, you host a dinner or a party or even just a friend for coffee. Then you tell us how it went. That's it.

The Take Out Project asks us to slow down and think about what we are consuming - both in terms of what we purchase and what we use in our homes - and what we put into our bodies. In doing so, we reconnect with ourselves, those closest to us and the community in which we live.

When Julie first approached me with idea of the Take Out Project, she could barely get three words out before I wholeheartedly agreed to help any way I could. In addition to branding the project and building it's online presence, I wanted champion the cause and help spread the word.

A few months back Julie and I discussed setting up a pilot program to help flesh out the project. Several supporters were loaned ceramic pieces and were asked to document how they used them. Flattered to be included in the first of these Take Out Project experiments, I had no idea how deeply I would be touched by the initiative. I will share my story here in the coming days. Stay tuned...