grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Mid-January Thinks and Ungoals

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Mid-January thinks and ungoalsSince we’re on the backside of January, I thought I’d share my mid-January thinks and ungoals. If January is ideal for one thing, it’s thinking and planning. And re-thinking and re-grouping. January gives us a psychological clean slate.

Give me a clean slate and a piece of chalk and I will rule the world. ?

I know it’s early. Probably too early to call anything successful, but I’m feeling good about what I’ve done in the new year. Or what I’ve not done. I basically blocked off the entire month of January for myself. To write and rest and spend time with family. To think about what I want to do in 2017 and beyond. And I’m grateful to be in a place to do that.

No, I haven’t done any of the typical new year things. I haven’t cleaned out my closet or organized my desk. My junk drawer is still junky. Just yesterday, I bought my 2017 wall calendar. Tip—if you wait long enough you can purchase at 20% off. I haven’t worked out a single time other than walking the dogs and doing yoga once at home. Sorta.Continue Reading

A writer’s (nano) descent into madness.

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descent into madnessYesterday, I open the mailbox to discover a neat, tight envelope sealed on the end rather than the middle (which for whatever reason, appeals to me), and inside, an unexpected book. Not really a book-book, more of a chap-book, larger than pocket-sized but compact and slender and flawless. And the matte cover is fashioned from heavy, charcoal-colored card stock (or a level up from card stock), certainly more substantial than a flimsy pamphlet or typical paperback cover.

Intriguing. Everything about it, including the minimalistic design, an atomic swirl printed in silver with an “N” in the center where the nucleus of everything lives. At the one o’clock position, a simple “10”. Also shiny and silver.

I trace the design with my index finger. I channel long lost junior high science class. I press the silver “N” in case it’s THE button unlocking Narnia for writers.

Or a port key.

Could be.Continue Reading

On Christmas Eve night…

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on christmas eve night...It was a short drive we’d made hundreds of times before, yet on Christmas Eve night of my seventh year, the gravel road felt different beneath the car. From my spot in the backseat, I gazed at the glittery night. Snow-covered fields stretched beneath a moon so full it nearly swallowed the land. Momma turned up the radio when Bing Crosby dreamed of a white Christmas and for once, for us, a white Christmas would be real.

And I wondered if every seventh Christmas brought snow.Continue Reading

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