WHEN YOU HAVE A SECOND CHANCE TO DIRECT ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE SHOWS.

PART TWO OF A CHICKADEE TAKING OVER MY LIFE.

When a tiny fighter-pilot chickadee moved into my neighborhood and took over my life.

Every year, one tree in my neighborhood jumps the gun and starts changing color in the middle of July. And every year, it sparks something in me — not dread for the end of summer, but joy for the season ahead.

What started as a leaf-peeping adventure turned into something richer. Join me on a ten-day journey through New England where strangers from every corner of the country find common ground—and maybe a little magic—in unexpected places.

Do you solemnly swear to eat that salad you just bought? Same. This essay is about grocery store delusions, lettuce guilt, and the everyday optimism that keeps us believing… next week will be different.

It started with expired meds and a Knife Skills class. It ended with a car accident, a police report, and a suspiciously well-armed SUV. Some stories you just can’t make up.

From misplaced keys to rekindled purpose, contractor no-shows to acts of kindness, this post offers a warm, witty, and very human New Year’s wish list. A reminder that it’s never too late to start again — with grace, humor, and maybe a pair of pink stilettos.

From awkward gifts and impossible-to-shop-for friends to a heartfelt text about a simple cup of tea, this is an essay on the unexpected ways we show up in someone’s life — and how being remembered might be the best gift of all.

In this essay, I write about the magic and melancholy of Christmas music — from classic carols to Broadway ballads — and why one song in particular has come to mean more to me with each passing year.

A walk, a workout, a slice of pie — small, everyday moments that reveal the quiet grace of people who show up, again and again, for someone else.

What happens when good intentions meet free samples and towering shelves of temptation? Join me at the warehouse store where you, too, can walk away with a cart full of buyer’s remorse.

I had no idea that when I decided to resurrect one of my mom's recipes, it would take a deli whisperer named Bruno to help me bring that tradition to life.

After my mother’s death, I thought I had heard it all — from awkward overshares to eyebrow critiques. This honest, funny, and deeply human essay explores the strange things people say during grief… and the legacy that matters most.

From weddings to workout classes, Proud Mary keeps showing up — and so do we. In this joyful, memory-soaked reflection, I’m thinking about life lessons that live in dance floors, disco lights, and one unstoppable woman named Betty.

The quiet power of letters and the way art — even in miniature — can carry messages of trust, balance, and open-heartedness. A gentle reminder of what still matters most.

When your travel dreams come with a schedule, a soup standoff, and a tour guide named Natalie, it’s best to stay on your toes — and near the bus. Reflections on the comedy and chaos of structured group travel.

When two trees fall, the garage door dies, and even the holiday decorations turn on you — all you can do is laugh, call a locksmith, and ask the question, Is the Universe bored, or just messing with me?

From a teenage fashion faux pas to a surprising source of connection across generations, this is story about belonging, growing up, and the unlikely power of shoes.

What started as a file purge turned into a rediscovery of my dad’s one-of-a-kind logic. Unpacking the mysteries of an old family phone book — and finding comfort tucked between the chaos.