The Porch Postscript

I've been selecting a word since at least 2019, with the exception of last year.  The month leading up to 2023 made for a lost year, but more on that another day.  The word I've chosen for 2024 is release .  I don't have clarity yet on why I chose this word, or perhaps it has chosen me; the year will tell.   In the days leading up to the new year, I reread past journals, searching words, and while I found several that I liked release seemed to keep calling me back.  Then, while I was reading articles about resolutions I found one writer who talked about the origin of the word resolution.  It comes from the Latin  resolvēre - meaning to loosen or release .  That sealed the deal for me, release would be my 2024 word. I find it interesting, that the cultural norm is to vow to be a "new you in the new year" and each year we we put all these expectations in place.  Then reality comes colliding in around February and many of the chosen resolutions are on the curb like

I'm going to venture into an area we're all told not to discuss. Many of us were raised not to discuss money, faith, or politics, especially in mixed company. What the hell does that even mean - mixed company? Anywho... Faith, this is a slippery slope in any conversation. I'm guaranteed to upset someone in this post. I was raised in the Lutheran Church. We went nearly every Sunday and by we I mean my mom and I. My dad was what many refer to as a "sprinkler". He attended major church holidays, baptisms, weddings, and funerals. I attended the same church my entire childhood. I took my first communion and was confirmed. I was an acolyte and did things with the youth group. As an adult, I got married in the same church, a church I hadn't attended in years. Here's the catch, I left church. Not just the church I grew up in, but the complete concept of it. I didn't leave my faith, just the established idea of church. As an adult I've become

The world isn’t going to become a better place by blaming others. Change won't happen by screaming at others and making them apologize for being. Nor will it happen by tearing down neighborhoods, destroying businesses, and placing blame.  Nothing in life is free. Nothing in life is owed to any of us. We must go out and earn it, honestly. Not by beating down others to our level.  Not by destroying what isn’t ours. Not by hating an entire sect of people.  Hard work and honesty will take you much farther than hate and blame.  At some point, the blame game has to stop.  At some point, the accountability needs to start.  Only then will the change begin.   There is always going to be hate.  We will never all sit in a circle and sing kumbaya.  The human race just doesn't work that way.  There will always be someone with more than you and someone with less than you.  What you do with that knowledge and how you use it will determine where you go in life.   I'd encourage you to watch

The world we currently live in is filled with a lot of highlight reels.  We see the perfect food, the perfect outfit, and the house that looks perfect.  The reality is that life isn't perfect and I feel like we need more real than highlight in our lives. I've thought a lot about the photos I take and use here on the blog, as well as on Instagram.  I've also thought a lot about the styled photos so many other bloggers use.  I feel like there is no right or wrong way to take and share photos.  So, why do I choose real-life rather than stunning styled photos? My number one reason is time, and maybe a bit of laziness.  I take most of the photos in the moment.  Right before eating the meal, or in the spur of the moment as things in my life happen.   I have zero interest in styling my food with props and the perfect garnish. Not to mention my daily life has no room for perfecting a food shot before we eat a meal.  I know millions of other bloggers value this step and feel

Sitting here this morning, sipping coffee, with my feet up,  watching the geese and swans fly by my studio window.  I may not be making art right now, but this is still my studio.  My happy place, the place where I write, make art, create cards, sew, knit, and daydream about my next creative endeavor.  This is the same desk I surf social media from and where I seem to be counting my blessings these days.  Because I'm counting my blessings quite a bit right now. What are we all thankful for right now?  No really, what are you thankful for?  Let's take a minute and focus on the positive things.  Walk away from the news briefings and the number counting and the terrible game of telephone the press plays with everything.  Are you with family during all of this?  Are you in a small town where there are far fewer cases of COVID-19?  Are you able to work from home? Are you able to put meals on the table? This is a house of introverts, so this isn't having a significant impa

Let's start this article with honestly.  I've never been one to research where the things I buy come from.  I do buy locally in terms of supporting local businesses, but I've never really paid attention to things like country of origin when it comes to food.  I've blindly trusted the system.  Fast forward to today, where farmers and ranchers are plowing crops under, washing dairy down the drain, and euthanizing animals ready for slaughter.  Yet, grocery stores are rationing items to customers as "1 per person" because there isn't enough to keep the shelves stocked.  WTF?  Our system is broken and now is the time to change it.  We've become very used to cheap food, with no care as to where it's grown, processed, or packaged. I've been trying to educate myself on the current food situation and what is happening.  Before anyone gets on their soapbox and starts with the hoarding rant.  I'd like to point out a few things I've learned in th

It all seems like it started with daylights savings time, a full moon and Friday the 13th.  Then came COVID-19 (aka Carona Virus) and now it's been snowing on and off for three days in Interior Alaska. Meme from Facebook Our world is shutting down one piece at a time.  First the public schools.  Then went the bars,  restaurants, gyms and even churches.  There are snarky comments about hoarding.   Toilet paper is selling out as fast as it hits shelves. I don't even have the words to explain how I feel about all of the things going on.  I'm saddened by the number of people who won't take it seriously.  I'm angry at how the news chooses to cover things like this.  I'm worried about my family that is thousands of miles from me at this crazy time.  I'm amazed at the kindness people are sharing in this time of panic.  I'm awestruck by the diversity of some business as they change and morph to help with the changing needs of our country.  I'm concer

Be...  Finish that statement.  How will you "Be"?  Go ahead.  I'll wait (insert Jeopardy music here).  In all seriousness when was the last time, you thought about that?  How do you want to be? How we act, react and treat our family, friends and those around us is always changing and growing.  Especially as we ourselves change and grow through our experiences.  The ever disconnecting way we interact with the world is lessening the human contact, well before and beyond the realm of social media.  We've been pressing "1 for English" most of my adult life and I remember when "self-check" became a thing.  As of late, I'm been really thinking about how I've been reacting to things and how others are reacting to me.  I'm working to change my own disconnected attitude.  In breaking my thoughts down, I hope to provide you with some food for thought and with something to consider the next time you act or react. Here are the FIVE things I w

Housekeeping is such a relative perspective, isn't it?  No really.  Think about that one person's hot mess is a lived in house.  One person's clean house is another person's worst nightmare.  I'm the lived in house that finds overly clean houses to be a nightmare.  There is nothing that makes me more self-conscious than visiting someone who has one of those "everything in its place homes." We have two cats and a dog, can you say hair?  I'm a creative, so I'd rather be creating than cleaning any day of the week.  If you came to see how clean my house is then you came for the wrong reasons.  Our house is lived in.  It's not dirty.  It's not disgusting.  It's lived in. You don't have to take your shoes off when you come here and you'll go home with dirty socks if you do.  My animals live here, so don't sit if you don't want to go home with some sort of hair somewhere on you.  You'll often find dirty dishes in the

I go through these phases once or twice a year.  I wander through my thoughts and wonder what I'm doing, how could I be doing it better, if I should be doing something different.  I run off with wild abandon on a creative journey, sure that this will be the right one, the one that will set me free.  Only to find burned out at the end of each venture because I don't know how to pace myself or take the right steps to make it work and grow. I've found myself exploring many things.  Some of the paths I've ventured down include: Cookbook writing (wrote and self-published two books) Food Blogger (wrote for 7 years and then removed it from the internet) Handmade Gift Shop on Etsy (three years of thinking sewing would set me free) Photography Blog (goes in fits and starts, still posting, but not consistent) Card Blogger (I've learned I'm not a DIY, step by step blogger) Handmade Card Artist (still doing this but in a bit of a creative slump) Life Blog (you&#

Where has my summer gone?  Summer in Alaska always goes so fast.  Three months of 24 hours of light seems to fly by at the speed of light. I always lose the month of June to long hours at work while we put on a Heavy Equipment Academy, in which I spend many days wearing this ensemble. We did a little extended getaway over the 4th of July weekend and made our first trip to Anchorage.  Forrest fires in the area made it a really smokey trip, but we were there the day the state broke a temp record and it hit 90 degrees. Had some good food, did some shopping and looked for a fifth wheel.  Ate at the "famous" Moose's Tooth Pizza. And on our way home we held out to eat at our favorite place in Denali, aka Glitter Gultch, Moose-AKas. Seriously, they have the best crepes we've ever eaten. I got a bit of rhubarb from our friends and processed it all into freezer bags for us to enjoy over the winter.  By some rhubarb, I mean 45 cups of rhubarb.

I've been down with a nasty Spring cold for somewhere in the ballpark of eight days.  I actually think this is worse than the bronchitis I had while we were on vacation over the Christmas Holidays.  I took nearly an entire week off work and I still feel exhausted and rung out.  I still have the stuffy nose and congestion.  It's getting better, but this one is a hanger-on.  Hubby had it first, he was kind enough to bring it home from work.  He's a week father into this crud than I am, but he's still has a bit of a cough and is rundown.  We're both on the mend, but this one really took it out of us.  We're noticing the older we get the harder it is to get over these things. We're both pretty good about staying home when we're sick, but not everyone uses their sick time as they should.  Seriously, that's what it's for and the rest of us would totally appreciate it if you'd use it rather than bringing your cud to the office to share it. 

What did February look like... We had a little mini getaway to Fairbanks.  It's how we battle cabin fever.  This is our favorite french dip and cheese fries from Friar Tucks. I've been trying to use a planner for my creative work, including blog posts. Nails for Valentine's Day. The sun is back!  I started wearing my shades to work again because it's finally light enough again. It was in the upper 20's and low 30's most of February. I made an old favorite - Toasted Ravioli aka Fried Ravioli. I painted our kitchen.  Before... After... I have a bit of a notebook fetish. My little alter of creativity in my studio. Artwork at a Starbucks. We also had a trip home to Wyoming.

Cabin Fever, the ailment from which I am currently suffering.  Winter has lasted way too long this year.  We didn't take our annual trip to Hawaii to break up the cold and darkness of the long Alaskan winters, for which I am truly in a state of regret.  We are still under about two feet of snow, probably more in select spots of our yard.  Yes.  The sun has returned, but that doesn't make the cold leave. I'm tired of going from the car to a building and back to the car and back to a building.  This routine is getting OLD!!!  I want to be outside, which yes if I bundle up I can be, but I HATE THE COLD.  I don't have any desire to be out in it, trudging through the snow, pretending I love winter.  Nope.  No Way.  Not at all.  I'm over it and ready for some summer!!! I've had a number of people say getting a "happy" light helps.  Maybe it does, but it's no substitute for sitting on the porch sipping iced tea and listening to the birds.  Yep, I ha

WARNING:  This could offend those that love living here. We've lived here just over six years.  Do I love it here?  Nope.  Will I ever?  Nope.  Let me clarify, I don't hate it here, but I'm not staying for life.  I know there are millions of people watching reality tv shows, itching to live the "Alaskan Dream", but let me tell you there is a HUGE difference between dreaming about living it and actually doing it. Since we've been here we've seen a lot of people move in and move out, less than a year later.  People up here tell stories about newcomers and those that can't hack it here.  There's the guy who sold his motorcycle because he heard there were no roads in the Interior.  There's the one about the couple who didn't realize it got so dark for so long here in the winter.  There's the wife that wouldn't move here because it's too far to do any "real" shopping.  And there's a zillion stories about the people

What exactly does that look like?  I'll be honest, I don't know.  For now possibly just more posting here.  Perhaps writing something to submit somewhere later on.  Feasibly some more short essay-style pieces.  If I'm truly honest, I don't know how long this desire will last. I've craved and reveled in writing since I was young.  I wrote stories on my electric typewriter in Junior High.  Later in High School, I took both a short story and a poetry class, neither of which ended up being what I imagined they would be.  I've submitted a few pieces to short story contests, but that never went anywhere.  Looking back, I'm sure it was because I was writing high school quality work to send into a magazine with adults submitting a much higher level of work to the same competitions. Later in my adult life, when we lived in Missouri, I was part of a writing group for a very short amount of time.  Just as I was starting to get back into writing, I got a much-needed

Let's get one thing out in the open, right up front.  I have four children.  No, I did not give birth to them.  No, they are not human.  They are children none the less. We currently have four girls, two dogs and two cats.  We talk to them like they are human and treat them better than some people treat children.  The sleep in our bed, they get on the couch, they make us crazy.  We buy them treats, toys and even clothing when needed.  I worry about them as if they are children when we leave them with a sitter for the weekend. Our youngest has bad manners and is headstrong.  She loves to "taste" everyone who comes to the door.  No biting, just a bit of doggie mouthing and gumming.  She gets very excited when people come and she loves to talk.  She's the Houdini of the group.  Can get out of most anything that she finds confining.  She loves treats, being free and sleeps on her back under our bed at night.  Hedy is a mixed breed rescue dog, part husky, chow and rott

...and they lived happily ever after.  Okay, but what did that really look like?  The boy gets the girl and they ride off into the sunset, but then what?  No one ever tells you what a truly happy marriage is about.  It's not about the end of the love story in a movie, it's about all the stuff that happens after that sunset.  It's about... Repeating favorite one-liners from movies and songs, all the time. Doing the laundry and never folding it. Cooking, hopefully together like we do in our house.  Cleaning the kitchen and taking out the trash.  Talking about mundane things from your day.  Funny pet names.  Silly grade school humor, including fart jokes.  Riding in the car and not talking for miles. Being comfortable in silence together.  Having someone to travel with.  Adjusting bra straps and sinching up suspenders.  Accepting the clutter and the habits of the one you love.  R

It's really simply amazing the thoughts people think about women who don't have children.  It's also simply amazing how rude other women are about the whole concept.  Now that I'm 40 no one is asking me about having kids anymore, thank heavens, but when I got married at the age of 29 that was a hot topic of conversation.  I used to come home from work at least a few times a week and complain about the constant topic of children.  My husband always said it had to be a female thing. Let's face it, men don't go through the barrage of questions women do.  It all starts with "why don't you have a boyfriend", then you get a boyfriend.  Next, they ask "is there's a wedding in the future", you become engaged.  Next, come the questions about a date for the "big day", finally a date is set and you tie the knot.  Questions don't stop there, they always move on the badgering you about when are you planning to start a family, to