Uncategorized
-
Rambling on about personal responsibility, imperfection, boundaries and accepting evolution and change… There is a certain freedom in admitting that life is not perfect. Not in a gloomy, “everything is terrible, pass the stale crackers” kind of way, but in a deeply human, shoulders-dropping, exhale-finally kind of way. Life is messy. People are complicated. Plans…
-
Rambling on about eye contact, small talk, and the extinction of people skills… It happened slowly, which is probably why we almost missed it. Basic skills did not vanish with a dramatic puff of smoke or a tiny violin playing in the background. They slipped out the side door while we were all looking down…
-
The fictional character I relate to most in this season of life…. Apparently, I have entered my Ouiser Boudreaux era. Yes, that Ouiser from Steel Magnolias… sharp-tongued, honest as a cast-iron skillet, and just Southern enough to say the thing everybody else is thinking but is too polite to let leave their mouth. I was…
-
Rambling on about fate, faith, bad timing, and the choices we swear we thought through… People love to say, “Everything happens for a reason.” It sounds comforting, doesn’t it? Like the universe has a clipboard, a headset, and a very detailed schedule. Missed the bus? Reason. Got your heart broken? Reason. Burned the toast, lost…
-
If my home had to pick just one décor style, it would probably sigh dramatically, change the subject, and point you toward the monkey lamps. My style is a little eclectic, a little bohemian, a little farmhouse, and a whole lot of “this made me smile, so it lives here now.” It is not a…
-
A witty little love letter to an old lyric, a good mama, and the kind of morning that needs a soundtrack… Some songs do not simply get stuck in your head. They move in, hang curtains, put a kettle on, and start rearranging the furniture in your heart. For me, that song is “Oh, What…
-
There is something deeply human about finishing a book, closing the cover, and still feeling the story moving around inside us. Sometimes we are satisfied. Sometimes we are unsettled. And sometimes, if we are honest, we sit there quietly wishing the ending had gone another way. That feeling raises a question I have been turning…
-
I have often been told I am a dreamer, and honestly, I cannot deny the charge. If dreaming were a minor offense, I would be guilty with glitter on my hands and clouds in my pockets. I have always had what some might call a dreamy outlook on life—part imagination, part wonder, part “look at…
-
Rambling on about moving forward, even when forward looks suspiciously like a three-ring circus and everyone and everything needs you at once… At some point, usually when we are feeling brave, well-rested, or standing in front of a mirror with dramatic lighting, we make promises to ourselves. Sometimes the promises come in the chaos and…
-
If I could have dinner with any fictional character, I would absolutely choose Jessica Fletcher from Murder, She Wrote. Not a superhero. Not a wizard. Not someone with a dragon or a secret kingdom. Give me J.B. Fletcher, mystery writer, world traveler, Cabot Cove icon, and the woman most likely to solve a murder before…
