…because “photo dump” is such a dumb, gross phrase. So what do we call it instead?

Anyhow, we escaped Florida’s end-of-summer heat by flying directly into Seattle’s heat wave, because we’re geniuses at travel planning! We first spent two nights on Vashon Island in a cottage with a composting toilet that came with mysterious instructions (helpful notes about peeing, radio silence about everything else), a yellow lab who appointed himself our personal shadow, roadside blackberries thorny, tangling and trailing in every direction (mostly the direction of our mouths), and our first glimpse of Thomas Dambo’s towering recycled-wood trolls. Also, I posed a question about that toilet over on Threads, and man oh man, some people got mad. Everybody poops! What’s the big deal?

Back in the city, that monstrous betrayer Google Maps, spent three days fibbing to us about “flat” routes that turned out to be brutal mountaineering expeditions, we watched salmon similarly fight their way up the locks while seals lounged nearby, and a seagull skulked around with a big fish hanging out of its beak, stopped by Immortal Perfumes’ charming studio, and afterward discovered the magic of the Aperol spritz slushy, and then spent a perfect temperate evening at the zoo listening to Ginger Root and Japanese Breakfast while sitting on grass with a stupidly expensive blanket we’d bought in the giftshop at the somewhat nearby National Nordic Museum (where we encountered another troll! )

I walked on the Space Needle’s glass floor despite vivid Final Destination-style disaster scenarios playing in my head, and practically next door, Dale Chihuly’s glass installations completely blindsided me—I’d never heard of him and walked in with zero expectations, only to discover that Chihuly had created these vast, glowing environments that felt more like walking through solidified light and color than looking at traditional sculpture.

I encountered one of my own books in the wild at the Frye Museum gift shop where I got to live out every author’s secret fantasy of sneaking bookmarks between its pages, we grabbed coffee at the KEXP coffee shop where Michelle Zauner interview was streaming (possibly live, which felt like perfect timing), and spent one of our final days in Ballard, hunting down bagels and gelato and breweries and pizza and one bookstore in particular where I scored a copy of Kenji López-Alt’s The Food Lab at Book Larder while nurturing the completely unhinged fantasy that my longtime Serious Eats hero – you know, the guy whose recipes saved every home cook’s risotto and chili for an entire decade – had obviously been camping out in this one Seattle bookstore all week, just patiently waiting for me specifically to wander in so he could finally discuss proper recipe development techniques. He wasn’t there, though! Rude.

And of course, we played Magic: The Gathering everywhere we went, because our dorky habits transcend geography. I got sick on my third day there, which was a huge bummer, because there were some folks we were hoping to see…but next time, Seattle! There will definitely be a next time.

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This is typically the sort of thing I might write about in my end-of-the-month newsletter (which is a different thing than my blog! Here’s an example of what I sent out in June) but we’re going to be traveling at the end of this month, so this will be the first time in three years that I am skipping a monthly newsletter. The dictator in my brain who holds stubbornly fast to arbitrary rules and deadlines that nobody but me cares about is trying hard to make me feel crappy about it, but I am attempting to resist.

Also…where should we go in Seattle? Coffee shops, tiki bars, nature walks/gardens, museums, please tell me where to find the best of these things! I have been there once before, but that was back in 2017 for a friend’s wedding, and we didn’t have time to do very much.

Anyway! Being off social media since early June has resulted in two noticeable things for me. A massive sense of peaceful unbotheredness, which probably merits getting into more, but all I will say is this: there’s a lot to be concerned and upset about in the world, but at least my time hasn’t been wasted by irritating people on Instagram. I get irritated/annoyed/peeved/infuriated for a lot of reasons, and a lot of them, I realize, are my own damn problems and issues and insecurities…but it has been SO NICE not to have all of these people in my face every day.

And the second nice thing about these people not being in my face every day is that they are not influencing me to buy whatever it is they are selling/shilling/whatever. I have saved so much money in the past two months. I bought a new pair of walking shoes for our upcoming travel (ok, on recommendations from Reddit, but I don’t consider Reddit social media). And one dinky thing from Amazon, and that’s it. I am that much closer to retiring in approximately 100 years!

Speaking of Amazon, the first inexpensive thing I have purchased lately and have a vast, weird fondness for is the little record display stand featured in the photo for this blog. It just makes me so happy. I cannot explain it. The second thing is this Ravi Shankar album that Ývan found for me in a local vintage shop for maybe $5.

But it’s not just the record, it was the whole day. Fans and Stoves is a really cool antique mall in an old Presbyterian church, and the afternoon we spent there was booming with gloomy, thunderous weather and downpours, and afterward we met up with friends for boardgames at a nearby brewery and had such a lovely time chatting and laughing that 3-4 hours had passed and we hadn’t even played a single game!

The Ravi Shankar album was a neat gift, but it was wrapped in the package of a wonderfully memorable day, and I think of it every time I listen.

Pickled onions, how do I love thee? To the depth and breadth and height of your glorious pink stink! This is a batch that I have steeped in strawberry vinegar (when you’re chopping up strawberries, save the tops, cover them with white vinegar overnight and strain into a jar, et voilà! Strawberry vinegar!) I have them in my lunctime salad every day and I can assure you, I smell delightful afterward.

Also on our daily salad are these sourdough discard crackers. It makes me SO MAD to throw away the excess starter after you feed it, so I either save it in the fridge for a rainy day (where a big gluggy vat of it sits forever mouldering) or I try to do something with it immediately.

For these, I spread the discard very thinly onto a silicone baking mat and sprinkle the top with lots of pumpkin seeds, slivered almonds, and hemp seeds. Bake at about 250° for 15-25 minutes, or until they are brown and shattery, break them up into satisfying shards, and store in an airtight container.

Ah, my dear library holds. Invariably, the anticipation of the thing is much more exciting than having the thing in hand. And inevitably, there are titles on this list that I won’t even get a chance to read in the two weeks that I am allotted to finish them. That’s okay. It’s a thrill just to see them all lined up, all the possibilities and stories that might unfold, like a buffet of potential worlds I may or may not have time to visit.  There’s a tantalizing romance in the overly ambitious library haul (which, funny enough, is aggressively and intentionally devoid of romance), the eternal optimism that this time, somehow, I’ll read faster than humanly possible and finish fourteen books in as many days. Please note that I started 157th in line for the Stephen King book. Yikes.

There’s something to be said for the quiet pleasures that emerge when you’re not constantly being told what to want or buy. What small, unexpected things have been making you happy lately when you’re not being sold to or influenced by algorithms? And while we’re chatting, drop your Seattle gems in the comments. I’m collecting recommendations like I collect unread books, hehehe.

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Again, this is something I might typically share on my Instagram stories but we’re not doing that right now. We harvested a very sad dozen of carrots that looked like diminutive, diseased dingdongs, and I said “no thank you and good day, sir” to that!

But these warty little weenuses had a profusion of bushy greens, so I thought it would be a shame to toss the whole vegetable. Thus: carrot top pesto, pictured here with freshly made gnocchi. The recipe bloggers always say that baked potates make better gnocchi than mashed (lower moisture content) so that’s what I did this time, but I am not sure I could really tell the difference. I didn’t use a recipe for either of these things, but there are plenty of recipes for both all over the internet and YouTube if you had a similarly freakish carrot harvest.

In other news, I had a blood appointment last week, and the results are in. I am winning at cholesterol! I am apparently within normal range now. I am losing at iron. Probably because of these reasons. 

In other-other news (I guess this is turning into a little update list?) I completed my Goodreads reading challenge on August 7th. I finished my 100th book of the year when I read the last page of Catherine Dang’s What Hunger. Anytime I announce my progress (which is loudly and all the time), Yvan always deadpans, “Does this mean you are done reading for the year?” HAHAHAHA WHAT. Everyone’s a comedian. By the way, if you liked Monica Kim’s The Eyes Are The Best Part, I think you might like What Hunger even better.

And in the last bit of news…I submitted the final four chapters in my upcoming book! I cannot wait until I can seriously start talking about this thing. I have had so much fun writing it and have so much to share. Any guesses as to the title or what it’s about? If you get it right, I will send you a signed copy, on the house!

P.S. I had to look up how to spell “wiener,” and I did a Google search for cocktail wiener, and the search results gave me “cocktail wieners near you!” and for some reason, I cannot stop laughing at that. 

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I was recently watching something on YouTube with Yvan, something like “What it costs per week to live in the Japanese countryside.” It was a family of four, and the mother was narrating the video. We got to the part where she showed the week’s grocery tally, with the caveat that it wasn’t too much money because “we’re not big eaters.” What! I just wasted 15 minutes of my life on you, lady!

I am absolutely a big eater. I love food. I think about food. I plan meals and eat them and think about the next thing I want to eat before I have even finished. At the beginning of the year, my doctor wanted me to lose 25 pounds to help with my blood pressure, and while I hate that weight loss is the medical go-to, the truth is I haven’t felt comfortable in my body for several years. So here we are.

Twenty-two pounds down, doctor’s appointment in a week. The meal prepping isn’t new, but I’ve gotten more consistent with it. We haven’t had delivery in seven months, which I’m ridiculously proud of. I like to cook anyway, so this has made me more creative and consistent in the kitchen. This current fridge snapshot is full of vegetables that I have pre-chopped for soup or whatever else. There are leftovers from our Sunday family dinner (salmon and corn chowder and sour cream cucumber salad) and a cream of mushroom soup I made last week. There is homemade sauerkraut (!!) and watermelon rind kimchi. So many things! I spend a large portion of my Saturdays puttering around in the kitchen and most of this culinary menagerie is the result of those efforts. P.S. Yvan got me this Masontops fermenting kit, and for about a year it sat around untouched because I was a little scared of it, but I am off and running with it now!

Movement has helped a lot too. I’ve weaponized my pacing. I get between 15-20K steps per day, either starting with a 5am walk around the neighborhood, or if I’m being honest, it’s mostly me marching, trotting, and shuffling around the house for twelve hours. I’ve also started using my 5-pound weights for about five minutes of daily exercises. Plus some traditional Chinese morning exercises—fast arm movements to get energy flowing. I don’t know what to call them exactly, but they showed up on my TikTok as “ancient exercises.”

Anyway, that’s all I want to say about that. Literally everything in the world you could natter on about is better than listening to people talk about weight loss, I get it.

This is an admittedly kind of gross-looking picture, but it seems I haven’t taken many photos lately, and maybe I have just forgotten how. I’m realizing I mostly view things through a lens when I am trying to come up with an idea for social media, and I haven’t been on social media since early June, so I haven’t even thought about it.

Anyway, here’s that saurkraut and the watermelon rind kimchi, along with our breakfast soup. It’s a dashi broth with a little soy sauce, mirin, and sugar, along with the finely chopped cabbage core left over from the saurkraut, some eggplant, shimeji mushrooms, and a bit of egg. I made biscuits yesterday and anytime you do an egg wash on top of a bread before it goes in the oven, you’re only using like 10% of it, and I hate wasting the rest! So I just put it in a little container overnight and drizzled it over the hot soup just before I took it off the burner. It was so, so good.  This isn’t a meat soup, per se, but I usually do snip in a tiny bit of marinated pork when I make this, just to add some extra flavor. I am pretty sure this is not how you are meant to use this spicy marinated pork bulgogi, but it works for me.

Anytime I talk about breakfast soup now, I think about this meme that my best good friend sent me, something like “bro goes to Japan one time and won’t shut up about soup.”  I don’t even have an excuse, I have never been to Japan! Forgive me. I, too, am a bro who cannot shut up about breakfast soup.

This is a rose that only blooms once a year. I don’t know if that’s how it’s meant to do, but that’s how she does for us. These catch-up posts feel like they’re becoming a bit rarefied and infrequent, too. Anyway.

• I finally watched Sinners, and it was as fantastic as everyone said it would be. I loved how it added a little extra something to vampire lore without trying to reinvent the entire wheel. I would have loved more of Remmick’s backstory, but that’s probably a very white audience response that completely misses the point, even if it also feels like a natural story-lover reaction. (But that “Rocky Road to Dublin” scene was pretty incredible.) And so was the scene where Sammy’s song brought all the ancestors together! On a related note, I never did watch Nosferatu. I was pretty rabid to see it, but once I finally got the opportunity, it bored me to tears within 5 minutes. I think it’s because I’d seen the Werner Herzog Nosferatu a few months before and had already made up my mind that anything that came after was going to be redundant and would pale in comparison.
• Andrew Michael Hurley is fast becoming one of my favorite authors. If you’ve ever read Robert MacFarlane’s lyrical, deeply researched writing about ancient British landscapes and thought, “what this needs is some creeping dread, ghostly presence, and unexplained rural menace,” then you’ve found your writer. I just finished Devil’s Day, and this story about a Lancashire farming community’s annual sheep gathering and the folk rituals that keep ancient boundaries intact could have been co-written by MacFarlane with all of the quietly beautiful prose about bleak moorland, bitter winds, and wild, brutal landscapes. I don’t want to diminish either writer’s unique voice with comparisons, but they both capture how landscape becomes character.
• Speaking of books, I’m about halfway through writing my newest one! Three books in, and I still don’t know the rules about what to share before official announcements. Or even when to make those announcements, hahaha. At any rate, if you’ve been into my explorations of art’s stranger territories, this one continues that tradition.

• In other news, a friend told me people think Labubu dolls are cursed, and hearing that just made me feel ancient. For those equally out of the loop, these are collectible devil-grinned, rabbit-eared toys that became a massive trend, and now people are claiming they’re haunted. It all feels stupid and garbagey – I can’t explain it better than that, but I have zero patience for manufactured spookiness around what are basically expensive bag accessories.
• I bought carnivorous plants – a tiny pitcher plant and a small venus fly trap – and have somehow kept them alive on the back porch for a whole month. They like it boggy and bright, and apparently don’t actually need to eat bugs if they get enough sun, which seems like cheating but whatever works. Somewhat related: I have never seen Little Shop of Horrors. I know someone is going to ask.

• I am equally out of the loop because of this summer social media break, and it feels exactly like elementary school summer vacation. The relief from shedding obligations that were completely imaginary in the first place is indescribable. I never want to go back. I mean, I probably will. But as of right now, if social media all broke down and went away forever, I would not shed a single tear.

That said, I’m planning on getting my blood pressure situation sorted and becoming an immortal blogging vampire though, so rest assured, you can always find me here.

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?

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For the past few years I was scared I was going to die in my sleep before I turned 49. I made it! (If I croak tonight, I will be very embarrassed about sharing this prematurely, and I will haunt you all about it forever.)

49 has always seemed a weird number to me. But then again, being a human alive in this world is an exceedingly weird thing, no matter how many years your bones have been clattering around on its surface. My bones and innards and flesh bits and all the rest of me have been around for 49 years today. What a thing. My only order of business is to continue keeping it weird.

I was planning on putting together a whole big blog post, not exactly birthday-related, but sharing some routines and rituals and practices and patterns and such that help me get through my day at this stage in life. And I am still planning on doing that! Just not today, I guess. It’s not even noon today, and I have done a lot of stuff, and I still have a lot of things on my list (nothing fun, really; it’s a work day), so I just don’t have time to write the thing, and I don’t want to stress about it. So I won’t! There’s always another day. Hopefully!

Instead, just a record of my face on this day, the day I turned 49 and lived to tell about it!

P.S. if you want to read about the perfume I wore today, I wrote a bit about it over on Patreon, and as a little gift from me to you, it’s free and you don’t even have to be a member to read it!

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?

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So they stripped out all the timber
And they leveled all the land
And they drilled and dynamited
’til they blew the mountains in
I tore down my old homeplace
And I dug up Daddy’s grave
And I relocated Momma to 14 miles away
-“Half Mile Down,” Old Crow Medicine Show

I took a quick trip to Asheville to visit my sister, Mary, whom I hadn’t seen since two Thanksgivings ago. My brother-in-law thought I might like to see Lake Watauga, about which he told me that the singer at the Evening of Appalachian Murder Ballads show said, “Lake Watauga — it’s haunted, y’all.”

I guess the story is that Lake Watauga is a drowned memory, a landscape of loss where an entire town lies silent beneath cold waters. What was once a living community now rests 140 feet underwater, its streets and homes swallowed by concrete and bureaucracy. Families were uprooted, graves relocated, generations of history erased—all to tame a river and build a dam.

When I thought about what such a place might be like, I imagined I could hear the town’s last breath—dead houses creaking, empty windows staring up from the dark, waiting. But in truth, the lake was breathtaking—the clearest water I’d ever seen, so transparent it seemed to hold no secrets at all. I could have easily sunk into those haunting thoughts, let my mind drift with the ghosts beneath the surface. Instead, there I was—being present and appreciative and happy to be alive and living in the moment and all that jazz.

P.S. those boots are the Dr. Martens Chelsea boots and they are so comfortable and I love them so much.

I am not the most efficient or practical packer of travel bags, but I always smell real good. If you’re curious about my perfume picks, I wrote about it on Patreon. The tote, if you’re interested was part of a bundle when Severin Films did a thing for the expanded edition of Kier-La Janisse’s excellent book, House of Psychotic Women. This was sometime last year so it’s no longer available, but you can still get a boxed set of some of the films mentioned in the book!

And re: perfumes, I shared a peek at my sister’s perfume collection over on Patreon, too.

Even more peeks! Here is a little gallery where the dream of the celestial-goth-Pyramid Catalogue -90s is alive at my sister’s home, and the Fairy Wonderland room lives in infamy eternally. On the wall above the guest bed are some artists that you will no doubt recognize! I see Caitlin McCarthy there, a little Nona Limmen print, and, of course, that enormous Waterhouse artwork on both the main wall and the one next to it. There are a few prints by JMW Chrzanoska that we had in our childhood home, and there’s a glamour shot of our mother in a turban! And there’s me, with long dark hair and a hat, from one of our visits to Cassadaga.

While my own bookcases are a riotous jumble of piles and stacks and tchotchkes strewn willy-nilly, my sister’s are meticulously curated and organized. And yes, there are several empty picture frames on those shelves. She’s the kind who spies the perfect frame and will search for the perfect piece of art to display in it, whereas I collect the art first and… never get around to framing it.

And look at that whimsigoth bathroom! Gosh. Spending time in Mary’s always leaves me feeling equally overwhelmed and inspired.

During this trip I also:

◈ Rediscovered my deep love for Neko Case’s Fox Confessor Brings The Flood
◈ Found a novelty claw clip shaped like a stack of Pyrex bowls (you can get it here)
◈ Ate the most delicious sandwich of focaccia, pesto, burrata and charred broccolini at Flour Sandwich Shop. I am absolutely going to recreate this.
◈ Took in an impromptu show at the Grey Eagle and sat next to Moth Man for a spell. La Luz was fantastic.
◈ Saw lots of devastation from last year’s hurricane. It was brutal. I found myself frequently on the verge of tears and completely lost it when my sister started talking about the antique shops full of memories that washed away, and “all the little trinkets floating downstream.” It is still so rough up there.

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?

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Started out my year with a colonoscopy and a mammogram! Asked for a dermatologist referral for a weird lump on my forehead! Got my annual tarot reading! Completely overhauled my hair! We are off to a rollicking start.

Stories & Sounds

⟡ Reading: I just finished Immaculate Conception by Ling Ling Huang and wowowow – this book is an exhilarating, terrifying examination of art and agency and trauma and what is real and who is real and it absolutely consumed me. It’s a deeply intense narrative about two artists, Enka and Mathilde, whose friendship spirals into an extraordinary meditation on creativity, obsession, and the boundaries between people. Huang is doing something so original and provocative that I’m not sure any other contemporary writer is exploring these territories with such depth and insight. This is the kind of novel that will set your brain on fire. If you loved Natural Beauty and were eagerly anticipating Huang’s next move, this novel will exceed every expectation. See above for the other 13 books I read last month.

⟡ Listening: Kompromat, PLДYING / PRДYING // Pye Corner Audio, Where Things Are Hollow // Mogwai, The Bad Fire

⟡ Watching: This is a tough one. I don’t watch much of anything anymore. I watched one episode of Severance’s second season, and a bit of Dandadan with Yvan, but I can’t be bothered to care about much of any of it for whatever reason.

Hearth & Home

⟡ I saw a video on YouTube for this zuppa Etrusca and was so inspired I had to make my own version of it. I say “my own version,” not because I thought I could put a better spin on it, but I wanted to work with the ingredients I had on hand, which meant a lot of swaps and substitutions. It was delicious anyway!

⟡ Ývan found a new-to-us little farmer’s market a few weekends ago, and we were pretty excited when we finally got to stop by Eartha’s Farm & Market. We get absurdly excited about shopping for vegetables! It was small but mighty selection and we came away with some fun things to experiment with. I’m plugging along, trying to modify my eating, low sodium, tragic lack of Cheetos, etc., and while I can’t call these open-faced grilled cheese, mustard, and Chinese broccoli sammies on home-made sourdough “healthy,” exactly, they were a lovely treat!

⟡ At the aforementioned doctor’s visit, we also talked about me finally taking an antidepressant, which at nearing 50, I realize I should have been open to half a lifetime ago. Yes, it is true–I have been out here, “just raw-dogging life all this time,” as someone recently commented when I shared this new development. It’s been two weeks now that I’ve been on generic Lexapro and I am still not cured, ha.

Anyway, I guess the doctor thinks she knows her stuff, but I prescribed myself some new cookbooks. In addition to Snacking Bakes and Ottolenghi’s new cookbook, I have Justine Doiron’s debut cookbook from the library right now, and there is so much veggie-centric inspiration in there! I might have to grab a copy of that one, too. She uses a lot of “crispy quinoa” in her recipes, and that sounds like something that might actually make me like that stupid, stupid quinoa.

Current Enchantments & Little Lights

⟡ Completely enchanted with artist David Schmitt’s wonderfully human, boldly magical works!

⟡ Saturday morning coffee adventures! The monkey’s face demanded that I switch up my Saturday routine, which had previously consisted of lounging around and drinking coffee. We can get coffee all over this town, so why not make a little treasure hunt of finding all the best places? This is where farmer’s market visits, arboretum strolls, and other such things come in. I want to do something with our morning that doesn’t necessarily involve shopping or eating, but I don’t have many ideas… especially as the FL weather is starting to heat up again. Any and all thoughts and suggestions are appreciated!

⟡ Making dates with new friends! We met up with some friends last weekend to go to a yearly event at a local brewery, and we’re trying to figure out a time that we can have them over for a board game afternoon. Because of the way I am, I guess, I always dread going out and doing things with people, and if I had to pin down reasons for this, I think it’s got a lot to do with how I get nervous and clam up. When I am forced to talk with people minus the buffer of time + thought that writing affords me, I’m always worried I offer a subpar experience of interaction with me. I am just better and more interesting when I am writing! In person, I feel like I might be a bit of a let-down. But after a lifetime of squirreling myself away and being a hermit, sometimes I just long to feel NORMAL around people, and I am never gonna get there if I don’t show my face in public and talk to folks.

⟡ A literal little light, as per this section’s title: we’ve decided to keep our Christmas lights up in our living room year-round. Maybe it looks a little Stranger Things, season one, but I don’t care!

⟡ The best sleeping set ever: I think Universal Standard advertises the Isadora pants & top as a “lounge set,” but I use them as pajamas, and they are so nice!

⟡ I very rarely recommend a fragrance if I don’t have a review to accompany it, but right now, I have two, and you will just have to trust me: Oxomoco from Arcana Wildcraft and Poppies and Lupine from BPAL. I’ll eventually write up some thoughts on the both of them, but for now, just know that they are Very Good.

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?

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2024 was not a year of big things for me; there were no books published or big projects I was involved in or working on. With this freed-up brain space, I wrote more than ever before on the blog, for a whopping total of 130 blog posts: I wrote about the artists I love, I kept track of and shared my thoughts on the books I read, I watched scary movies and wrote about what I saw, I rambled at length about fragrances, and I mused existentially on all manner of nonsense.

And so, after all that, I’m taking a little break! Nothing serious over here at Unquiet Things while the year winds down, no essays or explorations or examinations of the profound or provocative – just cozy musings and year-end meanderings while I recharge my creative batteries. Over the next few weeks, I plan on sharing some bookish gift ideas and the favorite and needful things I’ve enjoyed this year, along with the usual month-end perfume reviews, quarterly reading roundup, and book reviews. And that’s all she wrote!

Yet even in this softer, slower season, I find myself collecting little moments and observations like magpie treasures. Here’s what’s been gathering in my winter nest…

Stories & Sounds

Reading…

I have just reviewed my NetGalley shelf (a site where you can get ARCs in exchange for reviews) and noted all of the things I was rejected for in the past six months. Most of the titles have now been published, and I have either found library copies or put holds on them. I know we only have three more weeks left in the year, but that doesn’t mean I am not going to try and read 30 additional books! In the meantime, here are things that I have read this past month:

I’ve just emerged from the strange, unsettling world of Beta Vulgaris by Margie Sarsfield (forthcoming February 2025), where the mundane task of harvesting sugar beets in Minnesota becomes a surreal descent into spiraling depression. What begins as a more or less straightforward story about seasonal work to escape debt becomes something far more devastating – and weirdly compelling. Through Elise’s eyes, we experience not just the physical labor of the beet harvest, but the exhausting weight of existing in a mind that’s constantly at war with itself. Sarsfield renders disordered eating, self-loathing, and crushing anxiety with such stark familiarity that you find yourself nodding in recognition even as you wince at the truth of it. It’s all threaded through with a caustic, mean-spirited humor that somehow makes the relentless internal monologue bearable – even darkly entertaining. When mysterious voices begin emanating from the beet pile and workers start disappearing, you’re not quite sure if you’re witnessing a psychological unraveling or something more sinister. The genius is that both readings work, and both are equally horrifying.

Absolution by Jeff VanderMeer consumed ten solid days of my December reading life – unusual for someone who typically juggles 5-6 books at once. I had to clear my literary deck entirely to give it the focus it required. While I wish I’d refreshed my memory of the previous stories to better grasp its intricate web of connections… ten days, and all I got was the briefest glimpse of something vast and incomprehensible that will needle at my brain forever, a maddening fragment I won’t even be able to articulate by the time the next book comes out. Which is probably exactly what reading VanderMeer should feel like.

Listening…

It’s December so that pretty much means if I am at my desk working or writing, it is 24/7 Hildegard von Bingen or medieval chanting, while in the rest of the house, it’s old-fashioned Christmas carols. But I did see that Pye Corner Audio has got something new forthcoming, and I sure do dig their eerie hauntological electronica; I have really been enjoying Babyrose’s sublime psychedelic soul and also this release from Black Swan, 20 pieces evoking “the experiences of a spirit navigating the physical world it left behind.” And lastly Blood Incantation’s prog rock/death metal album Absolute Elsewhere album is a journey.

Watching…

I am still having a hard time watching much of anything at all, but I’ve been in the mood to see something beautiful, something visually stunning. Think The Fountain, The Cell, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, all those sorts of things. I polled my social media friends and compiled a list –none of which I have watched yet — but if you are interested in this sort of film too, I thought I would share all of the suggestions. A significant handful of people mentioned The Fall (the Tarsem Singh movie, not the detective show with Gillian Anderson). This film has been on my list for years now, and I finally watched it last night. AND WOW. Baby Lee Pace! And a friend told me that the girl grew to be a very cool pole dancer, which is neat. Also, I want to knit up her sweet little cardigan!

But as you can imagine, searching for “the fall” + “cardigan pattern,” while it turns up some lovely autumnal patterns, yields nothing actually helpful to my search. Anyhow, here are some other “beautiful movies” that folx mentioned if you’re looking to add to your list. Some of these I have seen, but others I’ve not even heard of, and since I don’t know what you’ve seen or haven’t (or truly, what is even your definition of “beautiful”), I have included all of them…

Loving Vincent (2017) // La Belle et la bête (1946 + 2014) // Tears of the Black Tiger (2003) // Poor Things (2023) // Russian Ark (2003) // Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) // Prospero’s Books (1991) // Orlando (1992) // Barry Lyndon (1975) // Night of the Hunter (1955) // My Neighbor Totoro (1988) // House of the Flying Daggers (2004) // Pan’s Labryinth (2006// Interstellar (2014) // Baron Munchausen (1988) // The Girl on the Bridge (1999) // Conclave (2024)// Days of Heaven (1978) // Midnight in Paris (2011) // The Green Knight (2021) // A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935) // Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1965) // The Scent of Green Papaya (1993) // Anastasia (1997) // Melancholia (2011) // The City of Lost Children (1995) // In the Mood For Love (2000) // The Secret of the Kells (2009) // The Company of Wolves (1984) // Amelie (2001) // Blade Runner (1982 + 2017) // Beyond the Black Rainbow (2010)

Hearth & Home

We held Thanksgiving at our house this year. Which is funny, because I initially wasn’t even going to be here for Thanksgiving; I would have been visiting one of my sisters in Asheville. But with the storm and the damage, we thought it best to hold off until next year. So somehow, I went from doing nothing over the holiday to hosting the whole dang affair. Ývan took care of the turkey, and I made the mashed potatoes, green bean casserole (from scratch, using smittenkitchen’s recipe), cranberry-apple compote, and sourdough dinner rolls. My father-in-law brought stuffing and apple pie. No pumpkin or pecan pie this year, THANK GOD. Ugh. Not my favorite stuff.

Not usually being the ones left holding the leftovers, I took the opportunity to try a bunch of new things and experiment. We waffled the mashed potatoes (success!) and the stuffing (not so much) using this tiny waffle iron that I’ve had for years but never actually use. We made turkey salad (whiz up turkey, onions, and celery in a food processor and fold in mayo and seasonings; eat on crackers or wraps or whatever.) We made a huge pot of broth with the turkey carcass, some of which we froze, some of which we used to make soup with the remainder of the green bean casserole, and some of which Ývan used to make a big batch of congee. And then, finally, with the leftover compote, I have been stirring spoonfuls into boiling water and making tea with it!

Current Enchantments & Little Lights

❄ There are only a few months out of the year when I can really wear my knits, and that time is now upon us! Last night, it actually got down to 36° F, and now it is absolutely freezing in my office; my hands are too cold to wield a pen or a needles, so it’s time to pull out the hand-knit mitts! These are the Campestral Mitts by Lauren Rad (and the sock-in-progress up there is also her pattern.)

❄ It is the time for layering! I am happiest and most comfortable when not an inch of skin is showing. This is the season for wearing a turtleneck under a dress over some leggings with thick socks and a scarf and sure maybe it looks a little eccentric, like a wacky macaroni necklaced kindergarten teacher, but I don’t care, I love it!

❄ My winter fragrances! I can smell like a Rust Cohle McConaughlogue with Lvnea’a Deer Mother, or the forests teeming with undead Green/Black MtG deck of Dasein’s Winter Nights, or the snowy yokai sneaking off for a ciggie on a winter’s evening while peeling a tangerine with long, sharp silver fingernails of Ikiriyo’s Yukion’na. I have a BPAL included in this winter line-up, and while it is no longer available limited edition scent, this year’s Yule scents are now live!

❄ Not necessarily winter-related, but I am having a long-awaited, much-needed Fuck Off, World! Weekend. Ývan is away at PAX Unplugged doing a whole bunch of nerdy stuff, and I am at home, doing a bunch of intensely introverted homebody stuff! Like peeing with the door open! No one can stop me! I ate so many Cool Ranch Doritos yesterday that I injured my tongue, and I stayed up til 2:30 am watching movies, whee! Today, I am being more responsible, and I am crossing things off my to-do list: pinning and blocking out a two year’s worth of knitted shawls, repotting a little tea tree plant, sending some perfume samples to a friend, and writing out all of my Patreon cards for December. Well…that was the plan anyway. It’s already 3 o’clock in the afternoon and I have spent most of the day writing this blog post. Ah well! The purpose of the FOW!W is to accomplish as little as humanly possible, so by all accounts, I am winning.

What have you all been up to lately? Are you leaning into winter’s slow pleasures or fighting against them? Also, should I watch my Cool Ranch Doritos consumption more carefully in my 40s? Asking for a friend (the friend is my tongue.)

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?

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Recovering From…Everything

A note before we begin: I wrote most of this post in those strange, suspended days before this morning’s devastating election results. As I sit here now, trying to reconcile my small personal joys with the weight of what’s happening in our world, I find myself cycling through waves of anger, grief, and a deep, gnawing worry about what comes next.

Chuck Wendig articulated it perfectly this morning: “What I know is that I don’t know. What I know is the things I thought I knew, or that I believed were true, really aren’t, and that once more I exist in need of a word, perhaps a German one, that expresses both the act of being shocked and a total lack of shock at the exact same time.”  

Part of me wanted to scrap this post entirely – it feels almost frivolous to talk about movies and recipes and foliage when so many of us are grappling with real horror and uncertainty in our lives. But. I find myself clinging to these small moments of light, these tiny victories and simple pleasures. Not as distraction, but as defiance. It’s saying: yes, we’re hurting, we’re scared, we’re angry – and we’re also still here, still cooking dinner, still telling stories, still finding ways to nurture ourselves and each other. Sometimes maintaining our rituals and celebrating small joys becomes its own kind of resistance when the larger world feels overwhelming.

So I’m sharing this post, written in a different emotional landscape than the one we’re in now. The world feels heavier today, darker. But we have been here before, and we know how to hold each other through the long night. We always find our way back to the light.

31 days of horror movies! For those who haven’t been following along, I committed to watching and reviewing a horror movie every single day in October. TLDR; my favorite viewing last month was SHE WILL. My brain is now approximately 75% jump scares and spooky soundtracks. I’m simultaneously proud of once again completing my annual challenge and ready to watch nothing but Japanese lifestyle videos on YouTube for the next month.

I watched a handful of these films while I was visiting my horror-averse sister; because she sat through a few of them with me, I  promised rewards of Bridgerton marathons and cake. I actually adore scandal and gossip and melodrama and sparkly beaded frocks so I enjoyed it more than I thought!  (I will say though, it could use more vampires and werewolves and eldritch horrors from beyond.)

Cooking & Eating

After a month of microwave popcorn and bowls of soup squeezed in between movie viewings, I’m getting back into proper cooking.

• For many years, I have pooh-poohed quinoa as gross and pointless. Turns out all you need to do is flavor it. Whatever you’re seasoning it with, add some more. Then, a lot more of that.  I stirred some lemon juice and lots of homemade pesto into some hot quinoa, and it was absolutely delicious. As an aside, “hot quinoa” sounds like an Urban Dictionary entry. Also, I don’t use a recipe for pesto; it’s basically every herb I’ve got in the garden (basil, sage, fennel, chives) + whatever nuts I have (pumpkin seeds, almonds) + garlic + lemon juice + olive oil + parmesan.
• After working with sourdough for the past four years, I finally got brave enough to begin adding extra junk to it. I just made a garlic + parmesan loaf and a pickled jalapeño + sharp cheddar loaf, and they were insanely good. (This is the sourdough recipe I use, but I have been experimenting with higher hydration.)
• I have been making this Thai coconut shrimp soup at least once a week for the past two months, and it is marvelous. I also made a kabocha squash soup that I garnished with cilantro, and that one bowl of soup turned me into a cilantro lover.
• This sourdough gingerbread cake with lemon curd. Wow. Gosh. Etc.
• While I was visiting my baby sister in Indianapolis, we spent an afternoon in Carmel and went to a small-plates style restaurant called Divvy. I love little bites of all kinds of things; it is my favorite way to eat! Highly, highly recommended.

Reading

Finally catching up on my nonfiction TBR pile that got neglected during movie month. Currently, I am reading:

• The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot by Robert Macfarlane  
• Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May
• The Sphinx and the Milky Way: Selections from the Journals of Charles Burchfield
• Magical/Realism: Essays on Music, Memory, Fantasy, and Borders by Vanessa Angélica Villarreal

Fiction-wise, I recently finished the following three books…

• Snake Oil by Kelsey Rae Dimberg Three women’s paths collide at a wellness company when its charismatic founder starts losing her grip on her billion-dollar empire. Not wellness horror per se, more like a wellness thriller, but I feel like it’s taken the best and strongest of all the concepts and ideas written about in the past few years and honed it into something really enjoyable.
• She’s Always Hungry by Eliza Clark A delightfully weird and darkly amusing collection of stories about hunger in all its forms, from body horror to alien flora to the all-consuming desires that make us human. There is one story that is alternately so dumb and absurd that it’s actually brilliant. Like many collections, there are hits and misses, but overall, I thought it was a hoot.
• The Bog Wife by Kay Chronister Wherein siblings deal with their supernatural family inheritance in Appalachia and the ancient bargain they made with their cranberry bog. This weirdly reminded me of my childhood love of The Boxcar Children – both tap into that deep satisfaction of seeing siblings create their own world and systems of care, even in (or especially in) strange circumstances!

Listening

Very much not horror movie soundtracks (ha!)

• Dreamstate by Kelly Lee Owens, gorgeous euphoric eletronica
• ‘Gemini’ single by Hayley Hendrickx, self-reflective, intimate and extremely satisfying
• Even the Forest Hums: Ukrainian Sonic Archives 1971​-​1996
• She Will OST by Clint Mansell (ok, I lied, there is a horror movie soundtrack here)

Small Joys

• I saw proper autumn foliage for the first time in I don’t know how many years! It was glorious. This photo was taken just outside my sister’s house as the leaves were only just beginning to fall.
• We did not have much luck growing tomatoes or zucchini this year, but we learned we can grow unlimited eggplants, serrano peppers, and okra! Next year I am planting ALL of the peppers!
• The relief of falling back into routines. Yvan’s broken foot this summer really threw me off in more ways than I realized. I’ve begun waking up early again and journaling my dreams, and I didn’t even realize how much I had been missing that little morning ritual. Also, the more frequently I write about my dreams, the better I get at remembering them, and my dream life is starting to feel all the more rich and vivid for it!
• A new ceramic cooking skillet. My old one was so gross. I want to cook ALL the eggs now! And a salt grinder (I’ve just been pouring directly out of the Morton’s container my whole life, hehehe.)
• A signed MtG card, gifted to me by one of my favorite contemporary fantasy artists!
• When friends say something nice about you! I was mentioned in the very excellent Hauntology Now! substack last month, and I was so humbled and surprised. What a lovely thing!

Currently Inspired By

• My new tea shelf! Now that Yvan is on his feet again, he was finally able to finish this project. This means all of our teas are out of boxes and in plain view now, so we will remember to drink them!
• Caitlin McCarthy’s Goddess Oracle is a moonlit treasure chest overflowing with mystical beauty and arcane wisdom – a brilliant gem for art enthusiasts and practitioners of the unseen alike.
• The prolific and insightful art writing of Elizah Leigh, whose keen eye and thoughtful commentary continually inspire me to look deeper and write better.
• All the things I’ve been gloriously wrong about lately (quinoa needs seasoning! cilantro isn’t evil! Bridgerton could use some eldritch horrors but is still fun!)
• The quiet pleasure of creating order from chaos, whether it’s recording dreams, or reviewing 31 days of horror films
• Finding my way back to these rambling little life updates.
• The necessity of fierce determination and tender care for the times ahead.

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More than once over the past few months, I heard myself mumble despairingly, “I don’t think I can take another Florida summer.”

Even though I have lived here practically my whole life, I know deep in my soul that this is not where I am meant to be. (I’m certain that my soul is meant to be on the misty Pacific Northwest coastline or in a quaint New England town.) And yet, for the foreseeable future, Florida is where I must be. How to reconcile this?

This tension between where we feel we belong and where circumstances have us living is a struggle I know I’m not alone in facing. As I write this, I’m exploring the idea of “making peace with place” – trying to understand if it’s possible to find a way to thrive and find joy in our current location, even if it’s not our ideal. Can we truly make peace with a place that doesn’t feel like home?

I don’t have the answers, but I’m compelled to examine this conflict between my reality and my desires.

I was born in Ohio and lived there until the summer after my third-grade year. I know we had “seasons” there, but being indoctrinated in the hellscape of Florida summers for most of my life must have scoured all the experiences of cool temperatures and crisp air from my memory: the only season I can recall growing up in Milford Ohio is summer.

Weeks of being conscripted into summer camp arts and crafts and snacks with the Brownies, more weeks of vacation summer Bible school with my neighbor’s kids (I suspect summer camp was an excuse for my mother to get us out of her hair; no one in my family was religious.) Fireflies, sandboxes, and my mother’s small garden of snapdragons. I spent weekends at my grandparents’ house with my sisters, learning to ride a bike and reading stacks and stacks of books. This all happened in the heat and warmth of the summer. Curiously, I have no memories of autumn or winter.

My grandparents moved to Florida just before my fourth-grade year, and they brought their daughter, a single mother, and her three children with them. Growing up, we never lived more than ten minutes away from our grandparents, and I suspect that’s because, while yes, my mother was theoretically a fully functioning adult, she was also troubled in many ways and not actually a very responsible adult.

I spent my elementary school, junior high, high school, and college years in the same beachside town we moved to in 1985. I lived there until I was 28 years old. At this point, I moved from Florida and all my ties to the place. It was a bad move.

In 2011, the bad scene of that move to NJ culminated in my leaving to return to FL.

I initially landed in Orlando and lived there for about a year because that’s where my sister and best friend were, both having escaped Daytona’s skeezy orbit. But as luck would have it, I began dating someone who lived less than ten minutes from the house I grew up in, so back to Daytona, I went.

The timing worked out well because not long after that, my mother was diagnosed with cancer and died a year later. After that began my grandfather’s rapid decline, and my grandmother followed a few years later. Yvan and I lived together throughout this process, and we would have loved to move away (neither one of us sees ourselves as Florida people), but of course, I couldn’t leave the grandparents with no one else there to care for them.

Now the shoe is on the other foot. Two years ago, we finally left the Daytona area, but it was to move only two hours north (still in Florida, UGH) for the sake of being closer to Yvan’s aging parents. Having already been through this with my own family, I’m acutely aware of the bittersweet nature of this time. It’s a harsh truth that we’re essentially waiting for loved ones to pass before we can pursue our relocation dreams.

But this realization comes with a crucial understanding: we can’t put our lives on hold. We can’t live as if everything will be better somewhere else, sometime else. We have to find a way to live our best lives now, right where we are.

It’s all too easy to fall into the trap of “someday” thinking. Someday we’ll move. Someday, we’ll be happier. Someday, we’ll start living. But life is happening now, in this place, at this moment. Putting our lives on hold not only robs us of present joy but can lead to regret and resentment. So, how do we make peace with a place that doesn’t feel like home? How do we find contentment and purpose in a location that doesn’t resonate with our souls?

Cheesy as it may sound, I’m trying to create a little list. While pondering these strategies is a start, the real challenge lies in putting them into practice. Here’s how I’m trying (emphasis on trying) to implement each one:

Find beauty in your current environment:

🐊   Keep a “Stupid Sexy Florida Beauty” journal: Each day, I try to note one beautiful thing (okay, that’s a stretch, I’ll confess I have downsized this to “nice thing”) I’ve observed, no matter how small. Sometimes, it’s as simple as how the light filters through the lacy grey tangles of Spanish moss or, say, the vibrant colors of a sunset reflecting off a retention pond. Listen, we work with what we’ve got.
🐊 Explore local natural areas: Florida has some stunning springs and nature preserves. I’m making a list of nearby spots to visit, even if it’s just for a short walk or a brief looky-loo.
🐊 Embrace the night: Since daytime can be unbearable, I’m re-learning to appreciate Florida’s nighttime beauty. Taking a walk around the neighborhood to gaze at the stars or say hello to the moon, or sitting on the porch during a thunderstorm can be magical.

(Re)Create a sense of home:

🐊 Declutter and redesign: I’m gradually going through each room, removing items that don’t resonate with me anymore (goodbye, excess skulls) and introducing elements that do (hello, cozy Shire-inspired nooks).
🐊 Create a “home away from home” corner: I’m designating a small area in our house to represent my ideal place. It might be a reading corner with pieces from PNW artists or a New England-style writing nook. I don’t know what that means really, but it’s very autumnal. In my imagination, anywhere north of, say, North Carolina is this perpetual, enchanted October otherworld (which I know can’t be true because I lived in New Jersey…but how quickly we forget!)

Engage with local community and culture:

🐊 Start small:  I’m setting a modest goal of one social interaction every few months. Which doesn’t sound like much, but that is the best this introvert can do! We have actually made a few friends in the area (huzzah! and thank you to former Jax-resident Shana for the introductions!)
🐊 Explore local food scenes: Every place has its culinary gems. I’m making it a point to try one new local restaurant or food truck each month.
🐊 Virtual engagement: For days when leaving the house feels overwhelming, I’m looking into online communities centered around local interests or issues. Local gardening groups, knitting groups, whatever. I will probably never meet these people, but it would be nice to have some local-feeling camaraderie.

Plan trips to places that resonate:

🐊 Create a travel fund: We’re setting aside a small amount each month specifically for trips to places we love. And maybe eventually go on our honeymoon to Japan! Which…is probably going to be a lot like Florida, whoops.
🐊 Weekend getaway list: I’m compiling a list of drivable destinations (like Savannah) for quick escapes when we need a change of scenery.
🐊 Bring vacation home: After each trip, I’d like to incorporate an element of that place into our daily lives. It might be a new recipe, a decor item, or a habit we picked up.

Shift perspective through creativity:
🐊 Write fictional vignettes set in Florida: By imagining fantastic or intriguing scenarios in my current setting, I’m trying to see the place through new eyes.
🐊 Photography challenge: I’m challenging myself to take beautiful or interesting photos of my surroundings, encouraging me to look for beauty in unexpected places.

Practice gratitude:

🐊 Daily, I try to note one thing I’m grateful for about our current situation. It might be as simple as “I’m grateful for air conditioning, this ice-cold gin gimlet, and having cultivated a viciously grim sense of humor” on particularly hot days.

Implementing these strategies is an ongoing process, full of two steps forward and one step back. Some days, the only thing I manage is not cursing the sun. I know, lordy, how I know, that Florida isn’t all beaches and bikinis and whatnot; it’s actually kind of a weird, creepy place, and I know I am not the only weirdo here.

So this is less about loving every aspect of where you are and more about finding ways to thrive despite the challenges. It’s about creating pockets of joy and meaning, even when the overall environment doesn’t resonate with your soul. Pockets full of moss and lizards and little creamed-colored seashells that whisper terrible things in ancient marine languages when you hold it to your ear.

Making peace with place often requires a shift in perspective. Instead of focusing on what’s missing, we can choose to see the unique opportunities our current location provides. For me, living in Florida means I can be there for family during an important time. It means I can explore a state that many only dream of visiting. Moreover, this experience of feeling out of place is shaping me. It’s teaching me resilience, adaptability, and the art of finding joy in unexpected places. These lessons will (theoretically?) serve me well, no matter where I eventually end up.

While it’s natural to dream of other places, I recognize it’s crucial to live fully in the present, and by making peace with my current place, I open myself up to unexpected joys and growth opportunities. So yes, I may never fully embrace Florida’s sweltering, sticky, butt-and-boob-sweat summers. I may always feel a pull towards the charming small-town Stars Hollows or the Derry, Maines (just kidding about that one…sort of?) But for now, I’m here. And here, I am trying to find beauty, create meaning, and live fully. Home is much more than just a place. It’s the feelings we create, the life we build, and the perspective we choose.

My grandfather, and probably grandfathers the world over, used to say, “Wherever you go, there you are.” Even if I wind up in the perfect little cottage, high on a bluff, with a bunch of old-growth forests over the ridge and listening to the eerie tremolo of the loons from an ancient lake in my backyard (I am combining all the places I want to live into one extra amazing place here), I’ll still be me with all my wanting and yearning and seeking. Who knows, I might not be happy anywhere. But I am especially not going to be happy in a place where I am not. So I might as well try to make it happen in the place where I actually am.

If you enjoy posts like these or if you have ever enjoyed or been inspired by something I have written, and you would like to support this blog, consider buying the author a coffee?

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