Greetings my lovelies,

It’s Labor Day here in the United States, Ronnie and I are both off today, and I woke up this morning to one of my favorite sounds.

Rain.

Actual rain in Tucson.

After taking the dogs outside, they all promptly went back into the house and left me sitting alone on the patio with my dark elixir of sanity. It was muggy, but I didn’t care. Dark clouds hung overhead, rain tapped around me, a neighborhood rooster crowed in the distance, and every now and then I could hear cars humming along the wet roads carrying those unfortunate people who had to work today.

Sorry, guys. I’ll drink my coffee quietly in your honor.

There’s something about rain in the desert that changes everything. The air smells different, the light becomes softer, and for a little while the entire world seems to settle down.

That’s exactly what I’ve been enjoying about the beginning of September.

It’s been quiet.

No drama. No nonsense. Just life.

I’ve had moments when I’ve cried because I miss Mom. I expect those moments will keep coming. But I’m learning that missing her and having a good day aren’t opposites. I can have a few tears in the morning and laugh with Ronnie later. Grief and happiness seem perfectly capable of sharing the same day.

Saturday was definitely a good day because I officially declared it Do Nothing Day.

I didn’t shop. I didn’t clean. I played games, watched Gossip Girl, took a nap and accomplished absolutely nothing.

It was glorious.

Sunday was the opposite.

We got up early and headed to Costco because our membership lets us get in an hour before everyone else. That alone may be worth the membership because Costco without the full Costco population is rather pleasant.

Of course, we still somehow spent almost $300.

Does anyone actually enter Costco, buy only the things on their list, spend $100 and leave?

I don’t believe these people exist.

I did buy myself a new lounging set, so apparently not everything in that cart was food.

Then I spotted the Hallowe’en decorations.

YAY!

And then…

CHRISTMAS!!!!

Ronnie immediately started steering me away.

“Let’s have Hallowe’en first.”

Okay, okay. Fine.

Apparently we’re doing holidays in chronological order now.

We went to Target next, where I bought two new blouses because of course I did. Ronnie found Harry Potter jelly beans and bought two boxes—one for himself 🤢🤮 and one for work.

I love Harry Potter. I do not need candy capable of tasting like earwax.

He also found toffee Oreos, which is much more interesting because apparently I’ve developed a thing for toffee lately. Toffee, brown sugar, caramelized flavors—I want all of it. My current Starbucks creamer is brown sugar, although I’ve been trying to stick with products with simpler, recognizable ingredients.

Then we went to Petco.

They had a speckled ferret.

OMG.

They’re not available yet because they just had their vaccines, which is probably fortunate for our bank account because I wanted one immediately.

Once again, Ronnie redirected Rae.

Then he had the nerve to announce that he wants a snake.

No.

We’ve been best friends since 1989. We’ve been together since 2002. We’ve been married since 2004. We’ve survived plenty together.

A snake will not be one of those things.

I don’t want to hold it, feed it, look at it, wonder whether its enclosure is locked or discover that it has somehow escaped. I don’t even want a snake knowing my address.

So instead, we came home with a ten-gallon aquarium.

Marriage is about compromise.

Right now the aquarium contains water and exactly zero fish because it’s cycling.

Damnit.

I know, I know. Patience.

We still need a few things anyway, and eventually we’ll add gouramis and other peaceful fish. No cichlids. I want a relaxing aquarium, not Gossip Girl: Underwater Edition.

I’ve also been reading Salt & Broom, which I’m enjoying. The author writes descriptively, and that’s something I love. When I read, I want colors, scents, textures and sounds. I want to feel like I’m standing inside the story rather than watching it from across the street.

Maybe that’s why mornings like this stick with me.

Today changed a little after I wrote those first thoughts on the patio. Ronnie wasn’t feeling well, so he went back to bed and I took over caring for the fur babies and getting a few things done around the house.

The dishes are done. A load of laundry is washing. I cleaned down the kitchen. Soft jazz is playing through the HomePod while the solar shades and curtains are open, letting all that beautiful gray light into the house. The bedroom is the exception because Ronnie is sleeping in there.

And there’s fresh coffee made in my new coffee press.

Which reminds me—I never shared my FabFitFun box that arrived on August 31.

How I managed to keep an entire box of goodies to myself for a week, I have no idea.

FabFitFun isn’t my only subscription either. Apparently I really enjoy paying companies to periodically send me presents. And honestly, there are worse hobbies.

I currently subscribe to four:

Cozy Book Corner is my bookish one. This is the box for curling-up-and-disappearing-from-the-world goodies. Books and cozy things? That’s not exactly a difficult sell for me. Cozy Books Corner

Mindful Souls is much more my spiritual side—crystals, gemstone jewelry, aromatherapy and other little treasures and tools. This one feels less like getting random stuff in the mail and more like opening a little box of things meant for slowing down, creating a ritual or adding something interesting to my collection. 

My Happy Life is exactly what the name suggests for me: a box that’s supposed to bring a little happy into ordinary life. Sometimes that’s really all I want from a subscription box. Open box. Find fun things. Be happy. Mission accomplished. My Happy Life Box

And then there’s FabFitFun, which is basically the wildcard of the bunch. Beauty, home, wellness, fashion—things I know I’ll love mixed with things I probably never would have bought for myself. And sometimes one of those becomes something I use constantly.

Like my new coffee press.

Please go to my contact page to contact me so you can get your free seasonal box.

I think I’m going to start sharing these boxes here when they arrive. Not giant formal reviews with seventeen paragraphs about packaging. Just what’s inside, what I loved, what made me scratch my head, and whether something actually becomes part of my everyday life.

Because apparently this coffee press already has.

While I was puttering around, I started looking at the house and thinking about things I want to change.

Our area rug has officially reached the end of its natural life. Between dogs, sweat, accidents, puke and everything else that poor rug has witnessed, there is no coming back.

It has served honorably.

But it’s time.

It doesn’t really work with our furniture anymore anyway, so we’re going to replace it. I also want to replace the entertainment center with something warm and rustic with a fireplace insert.

And please, furniture manufacturers, enough with the fake gray wood.

I lived through avocado appliances, wood paneling, brass everything and mauve. I’ve done my time. I am not spending the rest of my life surrounded by furniture the color of an overcast parking lot.

Give me warm wood. Give me cozy.

I’m also considering moving the white corner shelf that holds Mom’s urn and some of her things into the kitchen. I’m not completely sure yet. Wherever I put it, I want her space to feel like it belongs there.

Then there’s the tall dresser we still need for our bedroom. A real dresser this time, not one with fabric drawers.

The ferrets destroyed the bottom drawers of the current one.

Apparently fabric storage and ferrets are incompatible technologies.

Ronnie also has a light-green corner bookcase coming that he insists is going in my office.

Where?

Excellent question.

He apparently has a vision.

I’m going to let the man cook and see what happens.

We’re also planning on getting a chest freezer because we’ve been talking about ordering beef directly from a local rancher. Between Costco and buying meat locally, having more freezer space just makes sense.

And while I don’t usually talk about politics on my blog, President Trump’s bill concerning ranchers is huge. It provides financial relief and support for ranchers, strengthens protections for domestic livestock, and includes measures intended to help preserve the future of American ranching. This is a major win for ranchers and for the United States, and I think that’s worth acknowledging. I do want to be clear, though: I’m not in favor of the part involving the Mexican gray wolf. I support the ranchers and the broader benefits of the bill, but I do not support that portion.

So much for my quiet Labor Day.

I started the morning sitting peacefully on the patio listening to the rain and somehow ended up mentally replacing half the furniture in our house.

Seems about right.

But right now the laundry is washing, jazz is playing, Ronnie is resting, the animals are cared for, the aquarium is slowly doing whatever magical bacterial thing it needs to do before I’m allowed to have fish, and the house feels peaceful.

Later this week we have Practical Magic 2 in D-BOX seats to look forward to. If you’ve never experienced D-BOX, the seats move and vibrate along with the action on screen, so when the characters are running, driving, falling or getting tossed around by magic, you feel the motion in your own seat. It’s like watching the movie and riding along inside it at the same time.

We’ve never been to anything like this before, so it’s going to be a fun experience and a memory for us to share.

Then California is getting closer.

I’m excited to see Vickie, and now my little soul sister Sadie is driving about two hours to spend Saturday with us. We’ve FaceTimed and talked for years after meeting through my adopted son Lane, but we’ve never actually met face-to-face.

Two sisters in one week!

Soon I finally get to hug Sadie, spend time with Vickie, and finally see California and the Pacific Ocean—one of the things on my bucket list since I was little.

And maybe that’s what this quiet beginning to September is reminding me of.

Life didn’t stop when Mom died, even though there were days when part of me felt like it should have.

The laundry still needs washing. Dogs still need to go outside. Costco still somehow takes $300 from us. Ronnie still has terrible ideas involving snakes. Christmas decorations still make me ridiculously happy, and apparently there are speckled ferrets in this world specifically designed to test my self-control.

There are movies to see, trips to take, people I’ve loved from a distance that I finally get to hug, rooms I want to change, fish I impatiently want to put in an aquarium, and mornings when the desert gives me rain.

And Mom is missing from all of it.

That’s the part I can’t change.

There are times I walk over to her urn and just start talking to her like she can talk back. I tell her what’s happening. I tell her about the animals, what Ronnie and I are doing, what we’re planning and what I’m excited about.

And the funny thing is, sometimes I can almost hear exactly what she’d say.

I can hear her saying, “YUCK! GROSS!” about those Harry Potter jelly beans and then laughing about it.

I can hear her little “Awww” when I tell her something about the fur babies. She loved hearing about them.

I can imagine her getting excited with me about California and finally seeing the Pacific Ocean. I can hear myself telling her about our shopping trips, the things we’re changing around the house, and everything Ronnie and I have planned for fall.

Those are the moments when missing her feels especially strange.

Because I know her reactions.

I know what would make her laugh. I know what she’d think was gross. I know what would make her excited for me. I know exactly how she’d react when I told her another story about one of the animals.

I knew my mom.

So in a way, the conversations haven’t completely stopped. They’ve just become terribly one-sided.

Sometimes her absence is loud. Sometimes it’s a few tears that come out of nowhere. And sometimes it’s me standing beside her urn telling her about my day because some part of me still needs to tell Mom.

She’s still woven into my ordinary days.

I think that’s what I’m beginning to understand about grief. It doesn’t always have to take over the whole day to be there. I can miss Mom and still be happy. I can carry that ache and still get excited about Christmas in September.

Both are true.

Today, the house is quiet. Ronnie is resting. The fur babies are settled. Soft jazz is playing, my coffee is good, and rain has been falling on the desert.

Mom should be here.

I wish she were.

But there are still good things here too. Things she would want to hear about. Things I know would make her laugh, smile, say “Awww,” or apparently yell “YUCK! GROSS!”

So maybe I’ll keep telling her.

And I’ll keep living them.

Arizona may not have gotten the end-of-summer memo, but this morning it gave me rain.

I’ll be grateful for every damn drop.

Until next time, my lovelies.

Blessed be.