“Then the cold nights crept in…”

“… and all the colors of fall faded with the frost.”

Time to admit the truth.

Fall is fading fast, and winter is just about here.

I can tell because I’m freezing 90% of the time instead of just 50%.

I’m usually cold. My husband will tell you that. But in the winter, I’m almost always cold.

Thankfully, my amazing husband has helped build up the woodpile for this year, and our wood burning stove is up and running. Our little house is getting ready for all the cold weather, and that includes taking care of the wildlife around our home too. The deer have a new salt block, and I’m starting to remember to put out corn for them too.

Not that I’ve actually seen them eating it.

The bluejays get most of it. And the squirrels.

It is amazing how much corn ten bluejays can eat. Where do they put it all? Their tiny bodies can’t fit that much, yet they never leave the bowl alone until all the corn is gone.

Maybe there are more of them than I think.

I’ve got birdseed out too, in case you’re wondering if they’re starving. So, so much wild birdseed. This has attracted literally everything from magpies—which are MUCH larger than I realized—to chickadees, and I’m loving the variety I see gathered on my porch every morning.

My cat is also loving the variety.

She sits by the window, making funny chirpy noises and waiting for me to let her out so she can eat all the tasty birds flying around.

I do not let her out.

Or if I do, I make sure she doesn’t get anything.

She has yet to catch one.

But I let her dream. It keeps her occupied.

How are you preparing for the winter? Any sweet visitors outside your doors now that the cold weather is moving in? Tell me about them in the comments!

Finding Rhythm


I think my life is settling into something that semi-resembles . . . normality.

How do I deal with this? What do I do? Nothing has been normal for the last . . . let me think . . . three months? Give or take?

Man, planning a wedding will take it out of you. My entire life isn’t composed of a huge to-do list that grows longer with every passing day.

I’m not sure how to handle it.

Actually, getting back into a routine again has been a huge blessing. I am finally finding my feet again after all the wedding/honeymoon craze, and instead of having a boyfriend who swings by a couple of nights a week, I have a husband who heads off to work in the morning and arrives home again at night.

Can I just say? Best. Feeling. Ever. I was so sick of him having to leave every night.

But now that something resembling normal has returned and life is continuing on, a few things have cropped up that were . . . a little neglected while I was wedding planning.

Such as my personal writing, my health and well-being, and the state of my home.

Little things like that tend to catch you out if you don’t pay attention to them regularly enough.

Suffice to say, I have been doing lots of decluttering. And rearranging. And rapid writing as I try to fit in 500 words between the time when I stop work at three and my husband arrives home at five.

Which was all great! Until my health and well-being came knocking to remind me that if I didn’t put some effort into that side of my life, I was going to regret it. Badly.

Basically, I hit Friday afternoon a few weeks back and had to take sick time to finish my 40 hours because my back decided it no longer appreciated lounging on the couch with my computer. And come to find out, it’s very hard to be a successful creative when you’re in pain. Yep, I’ve gotten lazy about how I sit. At the office, I have a standing desk. At home, I . . . slump over my counter or curl up like a cat on my couch.

Not so good for the spine.

So, since returning to the office on a regular basis is still iffy, my husband and I went shopping for an ergonomically correct desk chair for me to use at our kitchen table. So I don’t end up hunched over and crooked because I work all the time.

It took three stores to find one I liked.

That was a long day.

But! I have a home office! My laptop has a stand to keep it at eye level, I have a desk chair and a rock salt lamp, and I’ve finally started taking breaks while I write to stretch and walk and get outside for a few minutes.

Shockingly, that has made a huge difference with my productivity. Who knew?

Basically, I’m finding my rhythm again. I’m remembering to take walks and breathe deeply and drink tea and feed the chickadees on my porch. The deer have another salt block, and the bluejays and squirrels have their corn. My writing has been dragged out of the dust, and I’m actually reading books again.

Life is returning to normal.

What are a few key things in your life that keep you in rhythm? Tell me about them in the comments!

A Phoenix

I got interviewed for a podcast for my job last month.

It was very exciting. I’ve been working as an apprentice scriptwriter for sixteen months now, and they figured it was probably time to ask me some questions. You know, get the scoop about what it’s really like to be a writer for an international radio show. We talked about the hard stuff. The tough topics. What it takes to be a writer in a fast-paced, highly competitive industry.

Not to spoil the interview, but I got asked what kind of magical creature I would be if I was a magical creature.

I was shook. They didn’t even warn me that was coming. I had to think on my feet.

Or, you know, in my closet, since I was sitting with a microphone, two computers, and my phone in my closet during the interview. With a sheet draped over my head.

Because sound quality is essential, y’all.


Frankly, I thought it was a brilliant question, but since I was caught off-guard and trying to keep my phone from disconnecting from the internet and the sheet from smothering me all at the same time, I answered really fast. Way too fast, as it turned out, to actually think about why I picked what I did.

I said a phoenix, by the way. In case you were wondering. Because when asked, who wouldn’t choose to be a mythical bird who bursts into flames at the end of its lifecycle and rises again from the ashes of its own destruction like a glorious representation of new life and continuing hope?

Plus, you get to fly and stuff. And have orange and red and yellow feathers, which are all the colors that I passionately love and cannot wear because of my skin tone. They wash me out. It’s bad.

Know your skin tones, people. Pick the right colors.

But after the interview was over and I crawled out from under my sheet like some kind of tiny gremlin emerging from its fabric lair, I took a little time to think about my choice. Because let’s be real, sometimes your quickest, tip-of-the-tongue, no-time-to-think answers are the most honest. And this one was definitely honest. A kind of deep, soul-touching honest that really struck me way too late for it to be an interesting and intellectual part of my interview.

Rats, right?

So I’m sharing it here instead. Because I am a phoenix. Every writer is. It’s our bread and butter, our rite of passage. Only a phoenix could survive as a writer. Because writing is all about burning to the ground. I’ve seen so many ideas go up in flames in the last year. Ideas, outlines, even scripts. The amount of criticism I take on a weekly—or even a daily—basis would have paralyzed me when I was a teenager. I would have dropped everything and given up.

But I am a phoenix. I watch my stories—and my ego—go up in smoke again and again . . . and again.

And like the phoenix, I rise from the ashes and begin again.

Every writer goes through the flames. You might say it’s an occupational hazard. The first time, the fifth time, even the hundredth time, it’s scary and painful and not what we wanted to do that particular day.

But it won’t stop us. We’ve done this before. We’ll do it again.

Out of the ashes will always come our best work yet.

I’m Back!

This is Wyoming?!

I’m back!

I think.

The world is still spinning like crazy, so I’m not entirely sure. When the ground stops moving under me, and I get my feet again, I’ll let you know.

Until then, guess what?

I’m married!

These last three months have been some of the craziest I can remember, but somehow we made it through in one piece. Wedding planning took up every evening, weekend, and spare minute I’ve had since late June, and having some free time again is a little bit of a shock. My afternoons are no longer spent looking for napkins with silver designs.

So now I have to find a new life purpose.

After all the wedding craze, it was such a relief to spend a week in Wyoming at a B&B. We hiked, drove over the most gorgeous pass, sat beside the most beautiful lakes, and enjoyed all the fall foliage we missed in Colorado because of the smoke.

Colorado was burning during our wedding month, by the way. We had to cancel our honeymoon in Aspen and go a little further afield to find somewhere with breathable air. And clear skies.

Thankfully it’s getting better.

Wyoming isn’t quite the traditional ‘honeymoon destination’, but we had a fantastic time.

I took lots of pictures to prove it.

My sister was laughing at me for going to Wyoming to visit a prison on my honeymoon.

As if that was a weird thing to do. Who wouldn’t want to tour the prison where Butch Cassidy was held before he met the Sundance Kid and began his famous rampage through the Wild West? It was a cool landmark.

All in all, though, our favorite part was not the prison. We liked the hiking better. And the Indian food. I tried to convince my husband that we should move to Wyoming immediately for the Indian food, but he didn’t say yes.

He didn’t say no either, so it’s still on the table.

I’ll let you know.

But we’re home now, and settling into life in our tiny cabin. Jobs are continuing, chores are being figured out, and I am learning to live with the reality that my cat loves my husband more than me.

I’m not going to lie, that was a low blow.

Any newlywed advice to share? Drop it in the comments, along with any life updates from the last three months on your end! I’ve missed you all!