Yellow-coated Fluff

Spring is great—for the most part.

I dread what spring means—summer is coming. During spring, I typically mope around mourning the loss of whatever tidbit of winter we were blessed to have been given over the past few months. Autumn, on the other hand, is a rebirth. Returning to nature after being trapped inside because the mosquitoes and humidity are too much to bear—especially when children are in your care.

But this month I've been focusing on the event of spring itself—not the dreaded summer lurking around the next calendar pages. We've been doing tons of outdoor activities from gardening to nature hikes to enjoy the moderate temperatures and the flowering abundance.

Go seize your pollen-covered day!

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Hope everyone had a magical weekend. Here's a peek at one of our seasonal adventures.





On a side note, if you put both an orange and a vanilla flavored Tootsie Fruit Roll in your mouth at the same time it tastes like an orange creamsicle.


Autumn on the Gulf Coast came and went and came and... I hope it sticks around this time! The crisp weather of fall (if we're lucky enough to receive typical seasonal weather) is invigorating. I usually get inspirational writing boosts this time of year but it hasn't happened yet. So, I'm sitting at my desk with the table top fan blowing on my face, praying for the courage to step forward with my WIP. I haven't made major progress on Corroded (because of other projects—and laziness) in at least two months. This blog is my jumping point to get back into the swing of things. I need to face the climax of the novel and conquer!

Even growing up in the also sporadic climate of coastal California, inspiration happened this time of year. I believe I began each of my novel length stories in the fall, starting at fifteen years old. The bulk of my poetry was written in autumn, with a generous helping of winter and some spring sprinkled in. Flipping through my poetry notebook I can count on one hand the poems written during the summer months. And speaking of poetry, I haven't written a cataloged poem since I was pregnant with my oldest in 1998. Question to self: What's up with that?!

But for now, I've got a terrifically awful poem to share. Remember, these poems are two decades old in some cases. Don't hold it against me! This one happens to be from the autumn I started college, at seventeen years old.

Breath of Life


Days do ever pass
Leaves turn golden and fall
Attending our last class
Is a walk down an endless hall

Sometimes it will seem
Like it's you against the rest
But your light will forever beam
You know you're one of the best

So keep in touch
With that strong sensation
It will give you much
Over-powering elation