I used to love weekends. When I was married they provided uninterrupted time for household projects or play time with my family, and even errands (when done together) were fun. When I was seeing someone they were “date nights,” and I happily rushed through chores so I could leisurely primp[Read more]

I caught myself holding my breath while I paint. I know there’s a problem with that – no need to unpack that metaphor. Now that I’m paying attention, I’m sure I’ll discover I hold my breath during a lot of things other people find pleasurable. I’ve tried being more mindful[Read more]

I have a coworker who lights a candle in his office every day. It makes the entire church smell wonderful, so members are good about gifting him with lovely new candles throughout the year. The last one he used came in the beautiful cranberry colored glass jar, pictured above. I[Read more]

I was trying to tell my doctor how my depression has changed in the last few months and likened my moments of happiness to a tiny fire, built using just sticks and friction, and a lot of hard work. From time to time I see a little orange glow, but[Read more]

For some reason, I can’t bring myself to put my fabric hexies back in their box where they might be forgotten again. So, they remain scattered on my work table, tiny sources of inspiration, whispering “put me in, coach!” I have to admit, keeping them in front of me, ready[Read more]

Every weekend since the first of this year I’ve spent time sorting the contents of my attic. Broken lamps, old clothes saved for possible costumes, worn out pillows whose stuffing might come in handy one day . . . my ex-husband kept it all. And since the attic was accessible[Read more]