After becoming a widow, 11 years single, and hooking up again during a raging pandemic, I have a whole new appreciation of being domestic.
I’m taking a vacation from weekly posts, putting my blog on hiatus for the growing season to explore my inner dirt and write in depth.
My storage space was my exit strategy. If things didn’t work out, I had another life in a box waiting for me to start over someplace else.
The thing about cooking that is so helpful to my psyche is letting go of the big picture and zooming in to the task at hand.
I quit drinking again six months ago when I started spending time with someone who does not enjoy the happy liquid brain refreshment of booze.
The new minimal me isn’t suffering with less and making do with junk. I love my streamlined life. The utilitarian simplicity gives me focus.
I used to have a bank account with money in it and now I see it’s like a leaky bucket with money dripping out the bottom. I’m being plucked.