Ghosts, Gourds, and the Glow of October

 

The tradition of decorating for Halloween started a very long time ago. Halloween decorating began as a way to ward off spirits during ancient Celtic festivals and evolved into a playful, spooky tradition in 20th-century America. By the early 20th century, there was a shift from Halloween being a solemn, spiritual observance to a community-centered celebration. Our neighborhoods in North Carolina have many who love decorating homes with jack-o’-lanterns, ghosts, skeletons, and witches.

The Mint Hill area is no exception.  Check out this short video

Witches, Vampires, and Long Drives: My Audiobook Ritual

Once again, I found myself facing a long drive. Without satellite radio, I’m at the mercy of local stations that fade in and out as I cross state lines. To pass the time—and preserve my sanity—I’ve turned to audiobooks. What a lifesaver.

On a recent hunt for something new, I ran my hand along a shelf of audiobooks and stopped on A Discovery of Witches. Coincidence? I think not. It did make me wonder: why am I so drawn to books about witches and vampires?

One of my recent blog posts was on The Lace Reader—if you haven’t seen it yet, go take a look. I also just finished Nora Roberts’ Morrigan Trilogy, which, yes, features witches and vampires again. Maybe it’s the lingering hype from the Twilight saga (though I’m thoroughly over the whole KPat drama). I was never a big fan of Cedric from Harry Potter—though I’ll admit I was a little sad when he got snuffed out—and Kristen Stewart always struck me as a bit gloomy. Or maybe I’m just naturally drawn to the genre, especially since I have a few Wiccan acquaintances.

A Discovery of Witches suggests that humans aren’t alone. Witches, vampires, and demons walk among us. The story begins when Diana Bishop, a scholar researching alchemy, calls up a long-lost, bewitched manuscript at Oxford’s Bodleian Library. No one has seen it for centuries—and its reappearance stirs things up. A lot.

This book is fun and engaging, especially this time of year when life gets busy and you crave something immersive but not too heavy. Just a heads-up: it’s part of a trilogy. I’m currently reading the second book (Shadow of Night) and will keep you posted.

Appraised and Adored--Antique Roadshow

 

Chas Parker Coffee Grinder from 1890's

I love old things. Visiting places like Monticello and Williamsburg gives me a thrill. Why?  Because I   can't help but image all the people who once lived in the houses, ate at the taverns and built our government in buildings.  It’s almost as if I feel their presence—ghosts of history lingering in the woodwork, walking the halls and whispers in the walls.

That’s why I adore watching Antiques Roadshow on PBS. According to the producers, most guests choose to hold onto their treasures, which makes perfect sense to me. The items that appear on the show are often steeped in family history—objects that have lived in homes, witnessed holidays, and quietly absorbed generations of stories.

It must be thrilling to learn that something you saw every time you visited your grandparents—maybe a vase on the mantel or a painting in the hallway—is not only meaningful but valuable. Then it passes to your parents, and you see it even more often. One day, your mom asks if you’d like to have it, and you don’t hesitate: “Of course.” Imagine taking it to Antiques Roadshow and hearing an appraiser say that this piece of your personal history is worth a small fortune. Would you give it up? I wouldn’t. I’d enjoy it for as long as I could and only consider selling it if my daughter said, “There’s no way I want to keep it.”

I have several pieces I’d be hard-pressed to part with—even if they turned out to be worth a lot of money. Most likely they’re not, but you never know. My aunt and uncle, and my mom and dad, were big antique people. I caught the bug from them. And now, every time I walk past a piece with a story, I try to picture them and their story.

I'd really love to know if you are a more modern style person or do you go for vintage?

A Porch, a Book, and the Quiet Joy of Raindrops

 

It’s Monday, and at last, we’re getting some much-needed rain. I must admit—I don’t just like a good rain, I love it. There’s something oddly satisfying about sitting on my glassed-in porch, watching the raindrops fall like its nature’s version of reality TV.

Most people worship the sun like it’s their personal life coach. But me? I’m perfectly content with a moody sky and a cup of something warm.

Rain doesn’t ask for cheerfulness. It grants permission to feel a little foggy, a little soft around the edges. It’s the kind of weather that lets you be quiet without apology, reflective without explanation. And if a few tears slip out? No one can tell—it’s just good camouflage.

So, if you’re wondering where I am, you’ll find me on my back porch, wrapped in the hush of falling rain, warm drink in hand, lost in a good book.

Jell-O 1-2-3 and me

 

I was contemplating making a dessert for some friends who were coming over, and for some reason, my mind wandered to sweets that no longer exist. One in particular came up: Jell-O 1-2-3.  For those too young to remember, Jell-O 1-2-3 was a layered dessert from the 1970s and '80s. Each serving featured three distinct layers, gelatin, mousse, and foam, all magically created from a single mix that separated as it chilled. It was light, whimsical, and easy to make. A marvel of processed simplicity and my mom was all about simplicity because she didn't like to cook.

Growing up, my mom and I were always watching our weight. Meanwhile, my dad and brother, who never seemed to gain an ounce, never gave it a second thought. Because of that, dessert was not a regular occurrence in our house. It simply wasn’t served after dinner.

Then one miraculous day, Jell-O 1-2-3 hit the grocery shelves. It was marketed as a light dessert, and my mom was sold—hook, line, and sinker. “It’s Jell-O,” she reasoned. “Only 100 calories per serving. Seems harmless enough.” No one mentioned to her, especially not me that it contained 14 to 17 grams of sugar and had virtually no nutritional value. But I wasn’t about to ruin the moment.

And just like that, dessert occasionally made its way to our dinner table. It felt decadent and forbidden. A sweet, foamy, pastel-colored wonder. And for a while, that was enough. 

It’s funny—well, not ha-ha funny, just quietly amusing—that now that I’m older and certainly less active, I still don’t eat dessert after dinner. Old habits, I suppose. But I have a feeling that if Jell-O 1-2-3 ever made a comeback, it might occasionally sneak its way onto my after-dinner plate. After all, it’s only 100 calories and only 14 to 17 grams of sugar.  

I’d love to hear about your experience with this dessert. Was it as good as I think I remember, or has nostalgia sweetened the memory a bit too much? If you ever had it, what was your favorite flavor? Mine was strawberry—no hesitation. That pink, foamy top layer felt like a treat and a loophole all at once.

Lastly would you want to see it on the grocery shelves again?

Let's Do the Hurkle Durkle

 

Now that I no longer head to work every day, I have discovered the joy of a slower pace in my life. A friend recently introduced me to the term Hurkle Durkle (also spelled herkle derkle), and I was fascinated and charmed simply by hearing the words. Naturally, as any curious semi-retired adult would, I googled it. 

It turns out Hurkle Durkle is a Scottish phrase that means to lounge in bed long after you’ve woken up. The word Hurkle suggests hunkering down or crouching for warmth, a lovely thought, especially now that sweater weather has arrived and mornings carry a chill. Durkle adds in the idea of lingering. For someone who used to be out the door by 6:30 a.m., this feels like a luxury I never knew I needed.

I have come to view it as continuous rest, a cozy selfcare ritual.  These days I brew my favorite coffee, return to bed, ease into my day, leisurely reading my emails, playing a game or reading on my kindle.  It feels so indulgent, so decadent. But after years of dashing around, juggling ten things at once, I’ve decided I’ve earned this new rhythm. And honestly? I’m not giving it up anytime soon. 

No Kings, Just Citizens

I believe the Constitution is one of the most brilliantly written documents in history. Adopted in 1787, it serves as the foundational legal framework of the United States. It establishes a federal government divided into three branches, legislative, executive, and judicial, and outlines the powers and responsibilities of each. Through its amendments, most notably the Bill of Rights, it guarantees essential rights and freedoms to individuals.

The Constitution was designed to ensure checks and balances, protect liberty, and adapt over time. It was signed on September 17, 1787, by a group of delegates at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia. While the Constitution was a collaborative effort, five figures stand out: George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, Benjamin Franklin, Gouverneur Morris, and James Madison. Each brought distinct visions shaped by their experiences, fears, and hopes for a new nation, one that had just emerged from a bitter war with England.

The debates were intense. Federalists pushed for a strong central government to ensure stability, while Anti-Federalists feared tyranny and fought for individual and state rights. James Madison advocated for a government based on checks and balances and helped design a system where power was divided among three branches to prevent any one group from dominating. 

Let's pause and reflect on this document for a moment. This document, along with its amendments and the Bill of Rights, has endured attacks and upheavals, yet it has held steady It has remained our guiding light for the last 238 years. 

 Please don’t mistake this for a history lesson. That’s not my intent. I simply feel compelled to remind us, especially those of us in the United States, of our rights as citizens. Perhaps our schools aren’t teaching the Constitution’s history with the depth it deserves.

Just to make sure we’re all on the same page and as a reminder, I’m quoting the First Amendment   “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

And lately, it feels like the Constitution itself is under siege. The principle of checks and balances seems to be fading from view. The First Amendment has been tested in troubling ways: the cancellation of The Colbert Report, Jimmy Kimmel’s suspension, and the mass resignation of Pentagon journalists who refused to become government scribes. At first, I thought that Bill Igor and ABC was caving but thank you for returning Kimmel to the air.  As for the mass resignations of the Pentagon press Corp, good for you!

These are not just media headlines—they’re signals. Signals that we must stay vigilant, informed, and engaged. The Constitution isn’t just parchment and ink. It’s a living promise. And it’s up to us to keep it alive.

Millions of people turned out for the No Kings March. For reasons I still can't fathom, some not all Republican voices have rebranded the event as the “Hate America Rally", their words, not mine. But this wasn’t a hate rally. It was a peaceful gathering, a public affirmation of our rights as Americans, as guaranteed by the First Amendment of the Constitution.

In response, the official White House account on X (formerly Twitter) posted images of President Donald Trump wearing a crown. While social media often thrives in irony or satire, this wasn’t tongue-in-cheek. The White House meant it. And that, more than any meme, speaks volumes.

In closing, I tend to steer clear of political conversations, especially given the climate we live in today. But I love this democratic country. We are fortunate—deeply fortunate—to call it home.

                                                            Not funny