Things you should know...

I have an unabashed, unironic love of J.B. Fletcher, and there will never be a time when an episode of Murder, She Wrote isn't a good way to end the day. I collect too many things to count, but more than objects that represent them, I collect attachments to moments, fleeting as they may be. I live 3,000 miles from the coast I called home for over two decades, but as I'm starting to believe that I'm responsible for my own definition of what it means to be home, we've been putting more holes in the wall lately. I was made a we in 2008 when I married the only guy I've ever refrained from testing with a fake break-up threat. He's nicer than I am, and I think it's what keeps us balanced.

I love old paperback books that smell like your grandmother's guest room, black coffee, and jigsaw puzzles.  Loud, unexpected noises make me grumpy, but The Big Chill soundtrack on vinyl soothes all the aches and pains my heart and mind can muster. Toast and jam for any and every meal, apples sliced very thin or not at all, and dark chocolate over milk. 

I'm a girl without a plan who's used to always having one, and I spend way too much time thinking about mediocrity and excellence and what it means to waffle somewhere in the middle. I like to think that I might putter or tinker my way to success, but if you ask, I have no idea how I want to define that word (yet).

Every month I send our stubborn, inconvenient, glorious, messy, Extravagant Hope, and it’s some of the best work in the world I’ve ever done.