End of the Year Updates

    • My dad found my rings on the basement floor something like one day after my piece on their disappearance ran. I have no idea how they got there in the six weeks they were missing, but I’m so glad to have them returned.

    • The sourdough starter lives on — I’m actually juggling two now, the original potato flake one, which is easy to keep happy but which doesn’t sub easily into other recipes because it’s very watery; and one that my dad sent off for that got its start on the Oregon Trail. The kids think the latter one is too sour, unless I don’t tell them which I used.
    • I still have a novel and a dozen or so short stories left to complete my Summer of Flannery with Abbey.
    • I thought of Anya again when my roses entered their second bloom in October, just a scraggly bush I bought from the Walmart garden clearance. I think of her often, these days, and try to make the choices she would have made.
    • I am still struggling along with trying to be someone who puts down roots rather than camps. When my parents were in town this fall, they helped me plant more bulbs, pull out the day lilies I hate, and attempt to kill the saplings that keep sneaking in, whack-a-mole style, in various inopportune places.
    • Read Your Own Books: a miserable flop. Have y’all ever fared any better?
    • Still cultivating a love of flowers. So far for next year we’ve also planted the aforementioned scraggly rose bush, crocus, daffodils, tulips… Haven’t done the wildflowers yet, though. I think we’ll put those in this spring.
    • Still off facebook. Occasionally it’s absolutely maddeningly difficult — like when I want to buy or sell something locally — but on the whole it’s been a good enough experience that I’m trying to cut back on Instagram, too, with mixed results.
    • I make yogurt now sometimes, but in addition to my list of things I don’t do, you can add most of the items in the comments. I’m still as rumpled as ever, don’t you worry.

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