ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Good morning, Sunday Letter friends!
I’m still here — in case you were wondering. (And also in case you weren’t. 😊) If you’ve reached out lately wondering why my newsletters went quiet, my apologies. It’s not that you stopped receiving them… it’s that I stopped writing them.
I’m fixing that today.
And there’s much to report.
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There’s something extra special about the final days of a year. Not loud. Not confetti-covered. Just a quiet pause—a moment to look back and consider what comes next.
Oh, 2025 has been a lot, hasn’t it? Wonderful in many ways (at the very top of that list: welcoming our first grandchild 💛). And heartbreaking + horrifying in others. (Turn on the BBC, and it doesn’t take long to see how fragile our world is.)
As this year tucks itself in, I keep thinking about what 2025 taught me—not through headlines or tidy resolutions, but in the slow, ordinary ways of living and noticing.
Do you do this too? Looking back can be a helpful thing.
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Dear Sunday Letter friends,
This is a super short Sunday Letter. Various distractions, website issues, and general busyness sent me veering off track. You may even wonder why I interrupted your serene Sunday morning for so little content. To this I say—Happy Thanksgiving! The truth is I couldn’t let one of the best weeks of the year to pass without at least a nod and a wave. A reminder that sometimes less really is more. That even if your mashed potatoes are lumpy and you forget the cranberry sauce altogether, it will be okay.
Thanksgiving season reminds me to look around, take stock, and say thank you—for the people at my table, the memories tucked into old recipe cards, and the simple grace woven into ordinary days.
