Archive - July 2018

  I love me a beautiful writing journal.  Browsing all the shapes and sizes, colors and patterns, snap closures and leather ties is, for me, better than shoe shopping.  I’m proud of my collection of bound volumes adorning my bookshelf, but I have a dirty little secret:  I’m not so good about writing in them.  Even the brand-new, shimmery, technicolor volume beckoning to me from my office space is not motivating me to finish writing in the yummy “Land of Oz” journal I currently use.  Not that I don’t love journaling because I do crave the chance to free-write but…

  My family and I spent the last two weeks “back home,” “back home” being central Iowa and eastern Nebraska where my husband and I spent our formative years.  Our kids think it’s weird when their parents talk like this because to them, home is where the puppy is.  Where Dad and Mom grew up (read:  no puppy…) can’t possibly be “home.” Ironically, my daughter challenged me to read and finish a book on the plane trip back to Iowa:  On the Way Home by Laura Ingalls Wilder, the diary of the trek she and Almanzo and Rose took from DeSmet, Dakota…