Find Comfort and Inspiration 
My friend Betsy prays for prosperity every day. This morning she asked me if I was trying to prosper through my blog. “Yes,” shot out of my mouth like a reflex. I didn’t want to seem like a dilettante. The truth is, I don’t think about writing and money together. I focus on quiet and
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Last week a seamless gray sky poured rain into gutters with the steady pace of a metronome. Cast in black, my favorite trees looked arthritic, with branches bent and crooked. I look to the sky for direction in the morning. Today, I’d have to have faith. I tried to place it in the sky behind
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With writing, and every other endeavor, you need a place to thrive. A nook suited to your temperament. Your mission control. My space includes pin-drop quiet, sunlight, and a garden. My ears are amplifiers. Any kind of noise clogs my brain. Quiet time in a day and quiet for writing means everything to me. Sometimes
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It was my day to deliver for Meals on Wheels. It’s a small very way to give thanks to the senior citizens of the world, especially when you only do it once a month and pick a short route. I was checking my route to see how many houses I had left. I get bored
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We had such sad news this week. My son Matthew’s friend Jason died, a young man we remember best as a sweet and shy seventh grader. To put a positive spin on this would be a crime. He was a boy who struggled, and that is all there is to say. Remarkably, I found a
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A big comfort-food meal, gathering with gratitude in mind, these are the reasons Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I’m not going to say it’s not stressful because it is. You have to make a lot of things—this one’s favorite this, that one’s favorite that. I can’t help but get cranky and high-pitched in the hours
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Beth Bolgla has a unique and wonderful vision for on living. She’s present, clear-eyed, and curious, with the kind of positive attitude that seems both innate and thoughtfully considered. She’s is also positive about things that most people aren’t. Beth visited me a few years ago to discuss featuring her ceramics at Catherine’s Table, my
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One of my best investments in comfort is the rocking chair on our porch that sits facing east for the new day. Most mornings I step outside to a black sky and sit with the last bit of night. I’m wrapped in fleece from head to toe in a big furry robe and old shearling slippers.
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It has been a year since my husband Mark’s father died. His sister Barbara and I were there for the last test of life and the final blessing from a hospital priest. A year later, Lou’s gifts of unquestioning optimism and confidence seem more remarkable than ever. All his accomplishments began with a foundation of
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Home alone this morning I decided to make pancakes and serve my soon-to-be happy myself with handmade ceramics. I even had a tiny ceramic pitcher for the maple syrup. Fill it and you have just enough syrup for a pancake. I added a handmade juice cup and napkin just because. Perfection. I adore a handmade
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