often there are no easy answers
You get to watch me eat a bunch of really spicy food all this week!
Monday through Thursday (April 27-30), a new video will go up on my YouTube channel each day with me eating something incredibly spicy. You should head over there and subscribe as well as turn on notifications so you don't miss a video.
Then, on Friday, May 1, at 5:30 PM EDT, I will eat the Choco Challenge 2.0 bar on a livestream (which will also be on that channel).
I'm doing all this to help support Feeding America and provide more resources for food banks assisting hungry people around the country during this pandemic.
Please donate using the button below.
I love roller coasters.
I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie and have always found the momentary feeling of weightlessness that comes as you begin a rapid descent, the feeling of being pushed into your seat while on a loop, and the wondering of what the next turn will bring while strapped into the seat of a roller coaster to be exhilarating.
One roller coaster I’m not necessarily enjoying as much this week is the coaster of grief.
Occasionally, I wonder how my pets know what time it is.
Specifically, the boys who seem to have an ability to know we’re nearing a meal. It doesn’t matter if the schedule has been wonky and out of the ordinary, Dexter or Gus will start begging for food within an hour of their regularly scheduled meal time. Occasionally, when past a certain time in the evening, either Gus or Amelia will go upstairs and put themselves to bed.
WARNING – This post contains spoilers for the final season of the Netflix show, Longmire. If you haven’t watched it yet and want to, then you may want to pass on this post.
Today is Thanksgiving. I know folks who are practicing gratitude each day this month, a practice I’ve done before. I don’t need to do that this year because the gratitude comes easily this year.
According to Elisabeth Kubler Ross and David Kessler, anger is the second stage of grief.
I’m not there yet.
I am almost always curious, though I sometimes don't have the answers. So I live in the questions of life - attempting to see things from a different perspective. Often that means holding things in tension. I am a saint and a sinner. I am simultaneously vulnerable and strong. The world is both beautiful and tragic. Death and life comingle together for me. I write often about grief and the strength that resides in brokenness.