I've recently fallen in love with candles. Since coming home from the World Race , I've bought at least one a month. My favorite candles are the ones that come in glass jars - because when they burn out, I can clean the remaining wax out and put the jars to other uses. Right now, that means they get cleaned out and packed away in anticipation of my move to Flagstaff. But as I was lighting one tonight (vanilla spice... Thanksgiving smells? Yes, please!), I saw a metaphor for writing flickering away in the flame licking at the wick and melting the wax. I suppose it could be a metaphor for life in general, but since the theme of this blog is writing... Well, you do the math.
Welcome back! To all my lovely fellow American friends reading this today, I hope you had a lovely holiday weekend (and stayed safe in the process). I had plans to start outlines for the next draft of a work-in-progress over the weekend, but I spent the entire time sleeping and watching YouTube instead. And I have no regrets. If there's one thing I've (re)learned in the last year or two, it's that you need to listen to your body when it tells you to slow down. The work will still be there when your body is ready to handle it. At least one that hasn't changed in all the chaos is my love of reading. Here's what I've been reading over the last few months! What I was able to read this summer Here is the magical list of things I was able to finish reading over the course of the summer. I was busy with work projects for a lot of the time, so it's not as robust of a list as I would have liked to compile. All of the reading I finished was fiction, so I've br
Fiber bars, strewn along the side of the road. There had to be at least a dozen of them, still in their wrappers and completely unopened. No box in sight. Really? That's about the reaction my younger sister and I had when we stumbled on them on our early morning run. Really? along with disgusted sighs about the wastefulness of it. These were the expensive ones, not a generic store brand that kind of tastes and kind of looks the same sometimes. So, when we weren't keeping an eye out for their box, we speculated about what had happened. And wondered how many more we were going to see before the end of our run. "Maybe they took one bite and thought they were gross," my sister said. "So they threw them out because they didn't want them anymore." I let out one of those disgusted sighs and nodded along with her theory. "Yeah, or they got in a huge fight, and threw them out in a fit of rage." "That's a possibility." And