For the past several years, we’ve kept this little cherry spinet desk closed. About two weeks ago, we were sitting on the sofa drinking coffee and we wondered if the turntable would still be workable if we opened it up. It is. And we really like seeing the little cubbies inside the desk, as well as having two levels.

Sometimes it’s the little things that make a difference.

Speaking of sitting on the sofa having coffee, we had our own nature program going on out the back window as we watched deer slowly crossing the back forty. My heavens, they’re beautiful.

This is my current puzzle project. I’d take a photo of it in progress, but one of the hazards of blogging during the winter months is not being able to take pictures in the hours of the dark mornings and dark-too-early evenings. It’s very limiting, which is why I struggle with finding subject matter at this time of the year.

I’m a big fan of the New York Puzzle Company. They sell all the New Yorker covers, as well as other subject matter. The House and Garden cover I just put together is theirs. This cover is theirs. And the puzzle quality is excellent.

This one is a challenge, but I like the challenge. It’s a form of meditation for me.

We had some sad news yesterday. Don came home from the grocery store and told me our favorite checker had passed away. Frank, who was 75, was the cheeriest, most joy-filled guy you could ever hope to meet. We always had great conversations with him – he was in a band, so he and Don talked music – and he never failed to brighten our day. He died, at home, of a sudden heart attack.

He is in our thoughts and we are so grateful to have known him. He truly made a difference in the lives of everyone he encountered. I can’t believe he’s gone.

It’s relative, but these days, 75 seems young to me. Too young to have left us.

We had a very slight sprinkling of snow overnight, just enough to make all the old snow look fresh and white again.

Stay safe.

Happy Tuesday.

I don’t know if anyone else feels like this – I suspect they do – but I often look at the lives or houses or accomplishments of others and think that they are adults and I am not.

Yes, I know I’m an adult. But this morning, for example, I looked at an IG post referred to me by a follower, which led me to another account. I looked at the house she lived in and, though it wasn’t ostentatious by any means, it looked like the decor had been planned and consistent over time and it was lovely and gracious – nothing looked in need of repair, all the pieces were either new or very expensive antiques. Whereas my decor is not planned; it’s mostly vintage and used. Our sofa in the den is falling apart, our kitchen cupboards need to be painted, the drywall in our bedroom ceiling needs to be patched because of leaks that occurred when we had chimney problems…you get the picture, two of our windows have cracks in them and need to be replaced. We can only fix what we can afford to fix. It’s a big deal in our house when we can afford to buy a new bed. Or fix the shed roof and the leak above our front door (both of those things, thank goodness, are going to be fixed in the next few months, thanks to my work on the movie.)

We don’t have investments, except those in our pension plans. We don’t have much in our savings account – I suppose it would be a laughable amount to many.

We’ve never hired a contractor – something adults seem to do. We don’t have a financial advisor – something adults seem to do. We can’t afford to build extensions on our house, or renovate our kitchen, or buy a new car – things adults seem to do.

I’m not complaining, mind you, just making an observation. Often, Don and I will turn to each other and say “Is this being an adult?”

Maybe it’s because we’re in the arts and have always lived hand to mouth. Maybe it’s because we never had children. I don’t know. But, though I know I’m an adult and have spent years as a teacher and coach, as a dog mom, as a mentor – I still don’t feel that way. I often feel as if I’m “playing adult.”

Is it a bit like imposter syndrome, that feeling that you’re really not as qualified, or as skilled, as people think you are? That if they only knew, you’d be seen for what you are? Sort of.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been thinking about this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m generally not envious of others, and this has nothing to do with that. It’s simply a feeling I get at times. Don feels the same way.

Thoughts?

It’s very, very cold here today. Sunny, but darned cold!

Stay safe.

Happy Monday.