Miss Everchanging

Making the Most of an Everchanging Life

New Orleans in Three Days: Good Food, Great Friends & Ghostly Hallways

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Short trips are always my favorite. I don’t have to spend days planning outfits or mapping out adventures, and I don’t have to burden anyone with constantly checking on my cats. Short trips are just easy! Besides, there are so many places to sample. Why commit to a long vacation when you can squeeze in a little adventure closer to home?

Last October, we ventured to New Orleans. The city had so much to offer in the fall, but cool weather wasn’t on the list. It was HOT! Apparently, New Orleans hadn’t gotten the memo that October is supposed to feel like fall.

Here are a few highlights from our New Orleans trip…..

We booked our trip through Priceline because we found a great deal. We aren’t particularly picky about flight times, and we’re not loyal to any particular airline, so it works well for us. Our friends joined us, too, which made the trip even more memorable.

To save money on airport parking, we parked at a nearby hotel that offered extended parking. Their shuttle dropped us and our luggage right at the terminal, saving us a good bit of extra walking. I’m all for saving money, especially when it also saves my feet!

Before we knew it, we were in the air with snacks in hand. As a nervous flyer, I always make a glass of wine a priority. Some people meditate. Others practice deep breathing. I prefer a little liquid encouragement!

The flight was short, and we arrived safely. It was truly a beautiful day to fly! Holly and I snapped a quick airport photo, already excited to start our adventure.

And yes, I’m wearing black. I almost always wear black when I travel. Why? Because I’ve had wine spilled on me before, and I’ve learned my lesson. Black is slimming, chic, and much more forgiving when an unfortunate wine incident occurs. Consider it my travel uniform.

We were eager to see our hotel! I’d read that Hotel Monteleone was one of Louisiana’s most haunted hotels, and if you know Holly and me, you know we LOVE a haunted hotel. Give us a little history, a few ghost stories, and the possibility of a paranormal encounter, and we’re all in!

The haunted reputation was a bonus, though. I’d originally chosen the hotel because the online pictures were absolutely gorgeous, and I hoped the real thing would live up to them.

Oh, did it ever! From the moment we stepped inside, the hotel had that elegant, old-world charm I love. The beautiful architectural details, rich textures, and inviting atmosphere made it feel as though we’d stepped back into another era. History lingered in every corner, with just enough mystery to make us wonder what stories those walls could tell. I could practically imagine the ghosts checking in alongside the living guests!

And the service? Impeccable. The hotel was every bit as lovely as I’d hoped, and we hadn’t even begun our New Orleans adventures. Of course, I was still curious about those ghost stories. You can read about it here. I mean, if you’re going to stay in a haunted hotel, you really hope the ghosts show up. Preferably not in the middle of the night…

After checking in, we freshened up for dinner and walked across the street to Dickie Brennan’s Steakhouse. You know I love a restaurant that’s just a short stroll away! Especially when the alternative involves figuring out transportation in a new city.

I always worry a little about food when traveling, since my diet can make dining out a bit of a challenge. Thankfully, they accommodated me with a delicious piece of fish cooked in butter. Simple, but perfect!

I’m usually the person who orders protein, a glass of wine, and skips the sides. So, while everyone else may be photographing elaborate meals, my food pictures tend to be a little… underwhelming. Apparently, a beautifully cooked piece of fish doesn’t always make for Instagram-worthy content. At least the wine is photogenic.

After dinner, we decided to explore Bourbon Street. I was fairly certain I might lose my life before the evening was over. It was dirty, people were yelling, and there was security everywhere. I had never experienced anything quite like it. Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly the charming, romantic New Orleans experience I’d imagined.

And we haven’t even discussed the contact high we all probably experienced by the end of the evening. By the time I got back to the hotel, I could practically smell Bourbon Street in my hair. Straight to the shower I went. Some souvenirs are better left behind!

Since we were all a little disgusted by our first adventure, we decided to call it an early night. And no, I didn’t take a single picture of that hot mess. Some experiences simply don’t deserve a place in the photo album.

Thankfully, the next morning brought a fresh start. I woke up feeling much more hopeful. A good cup of coffee and a fluffy hotel bathrobe can do wonders for one’s disposition. I was ready to give New Orleans another chance, especially after learning that the streets are washed down every night! After our first evening on Bourbon Street, I was happy to know the city had a morning-after cleanup crew. Apparently, even New Orleans needs to tidy up after a wild night out!

We headed out for breakfast and settled on a small restaurant nearby that our hotel doorman recommended: Mena’s Palace. It was cozy and welcoming, exactly what we needed after the previous evening’s adventures.

Best of all, I enjoyed an omelet and a mimosa. Breakfast, coffee, and a little bubbly? Now this was more like the New Orleans experience I had in mind. We were officially back on track!

We spent the day exploring New Orleans, and although it was HOT, the sky was the most beautiful shade of blue. The kind of blue that makes every picture look better! We may have been melting a little, but the weather still cooperated for the photos. There’s only so much a cute outfit can do when you’re sweating through it.

New Orleans was so much artsier than I had imagined! I loved wandering past the art displays, discovering local artists, and learning more about Louisiana’s rich history. Everywhere we went had so much character, and every turn offered something new to admire.

We took the trolley to explore different parts of the city, which made sightseeing easy and gave our feet a break. I only wish I’d taken more pictures! Apparently, I was too busy taking it all in to remember to document it.

The historic neighborhoods were especially beautiful, with rows of gorgeous old houses, charming architecture, and so much personality. And since we were visiting in October, nearly every home, restaurant, and shop was decked out in its Halloween best. Pumpkins, spooky decorations, and festive displays were everywhere!

I do love a town that embraces a holiday, and New Orleans certainly didn’t disappoint. With the art, history, and Halloween decorations, there was plenty to keep us entertained. If only the weather had gotten the memo that it was supposed to be fall!

Later that evening, we boarded the Creole Queen for a jazz river cruise along the Mississippi River. This was definitely one of the highlights of our trip! With live jazz, beautiful river views, and city lights reflecting on the water, it was a memorable way to experience New Orleans.

I was especially glad I’d packed a sweater because the evening turned surprisingly chilly. Apparently, October in New Orleans likes to keep us guessing. One minute you’re melting in the sunshine, and the next you’re wishing you’d brought another layer!

The atmosphere was wonderful, the scenery was beautiful, and the music made the whole experience feel quintessentially New Orleans. It was the perfect evening, and one I would happily repeat in a heartbeat. Some experiences are worth every penny, and this was certainly one of them!

After the cruise, we happily walked back to the hotel, grateful that we’d discovered a much better side of New Orleans. The beautiful views, the jazz, and the peaceful river had certainly helped redeem our first impression!

In hindsight, here’s some good travel advice: get a good dinner, get a good night’s sleep, and give a destination another chance in the morning. Everything looks brighter when you’re rested and no longer questioning your life choices on Bourbon Street!

The next morning, we discovered Coterie, which quickly became my favorite breakfast spot. I had one of the best omelets of my life, paired with a Chambord mimosa. Now this was my kind of New Orleans experience!

Fueled by a fabulous breakfast, we set out to shop. I’d spotted a bracelet that I absolutely had to have, and Bruce needed a blazer. You see, we had dinner reservations the following evening at a restaurant that required one, and Bruce had left his at home. Thankfully, New Orleans has plenty of shopping, so finding him a blazer became an unexpected addition to our itinerary.

After all that shopping, we were ready for a break. We stopped at Bourbon House for a bourbon tasting, which I would highly recommend! It was a fun way to learn a little more about the local spirit, and we discovered a few new favorites along the way.

Shopping, bourbon tasting, and a little retail therapy? Not a bad way to spend an afternoon in New Orleans!

We enjoyed Bourbon House so much that we returned for dinner that evening. I’ll spare you another picture of fish and butter. You’re welcome!

But the real surprise was Bourbon Street after dark. It was SO much better than our first experience! The streets were alive with music; a jazz band played, people laughed and had a wonderful time, and the whole place felt almost magical. This was the New Orleans I’d imagined!

We even collected beads! And before your imagination runs wild, let me assure you that no body parts were exposed in exchange for them. We got our souvenirs the old-fashioned way.

It just goes to show that sometimes a place deserves a second chance. Our first night had me ready to pack my bags and flee, but our second evening had me embracing the fun. Now this was the Bourbon Street experience I’d come for!

Of course, we couldn’t visit New Orleans without taking a ghost tour! At least, we started one. We just weren’t feeling it. There was a lot of standing around, and after days of exploring in that heat, our feet had apparently decided they were done with paranormal investigations.

My advice? Do your research and read reviews before booking a ghost tour. I’m sure there are fantastic ones in New Orleans; we just didn’t choose the right one. Even ghost hunting requires a little planning!

After abandoning the tour, we decided to explore on our own. Since we were staying at a hotel rumored to be haunted, we were still hoping for a little spooky excitement. Then we stumbled upon this hallway, and Holly and I immediately thought of The Shining. Naturally, we had to take a picture!

By the next day, we’d reached that point in a trip when the sightseeing starts to feel a little less exciting, and sitting down with a good drink sounds like the best adventure of all! We explored a little more, but three days in New Orleans turned out to be just right for us. We’d seen plenty, and we were ready to slow down. I’ve learned that downtime is essential when traveling. After all, a vacation shouldn’t feel like a full-time job!

I was especially happy to discover that my new bracelet matched a dress I’d packed. It was a little pricey, but considering how much I’ve worn it over the past year, I’d say it was money well spent. Cost per wear, y’all! That’s how I justify a good purchase.

Our hotel had the famous Carousel Bar that actually revolved! It was always packed in the evenings, so we’d never managed to get a seat. That afternoon, we took advantage of the quieter atmosphere and practically had the place to ourselves.

Naturally, I ordered espresso martinis because they matched my outfit. Is there a better reason? We sipped our drinks, watched people come and go, and enjoyed having absolutely nowhere we needed to be. Sometimes the best travel moments aren’t about sightseeing at all. They’re about finding a lovely spot, ordering something delicious, and watching the world go by.

That evening’s dinner became our favorite of the entire trip! We had reservations at Galatoire’s, and it exceeded every expectation. Bruce also had a new blazer, thanks to our shopping mission the day before. Thankfully, New Orleans had plenty of shopping, and I got a bracelet out of the deal. I’d say we both came out winners.

I honestly can’t remember what I wore that night, which is unusual for me. I’m usually much better at remembering outfits than trip details! But I do remember the atmosphere. Galatoire’s had that classic country club feel I love—elegant, sophisticated, and full of old-world charm.

And the food? Absolutely amazing. I ate every single bite, including dessert, which should tell you everything you need to know. You know a restaurant is special when even my usual protein-and-wine routine goes out the window!

If I could do one dinner in New Orleans all over again, this would be it. Some restaurants are simply worth dressing up for—and this was definitely one of them.

New Orleans was such a memorable trip! It reminded me just how many wonderful places are only a short plane ride away. You don’t always need an elaborate itinerary or a week of vacation to make beautiful memories. Sometimes, three days, good friends, a little adventure, and a few espresso martinis are all you need!

I can’t wait to share more of the places I’ve visited this year. There are so many adventures to tell you about, and I’m grateful to have these memories to look back on.

Most of all, I’m thankful for Bruce, who understands that travel is my love language and makes so many of these adventures possible. Seeing new places, discovering beautiful things, and sharing experiences with the people I enjoy makes me happier than almost anything else.

After all, the world is full of places to explore, and I have no intention of running out of adventures anytime soon!

The memories I’m making are worth far more than any souvenir (even the bracelet), and I can’t wait to see where our next adventure takes us.

Remembering Halloween Again…

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When I lost my original blog posts, I thought this little piece of my history was gone forever. I was heartbroken. Along with the post, all the pictures had disappeared, too. So you can imagine how happy I was to discover that I could recover the words from this October 2015 post!

Without the original photos, it felt a little different, and I decided it was the perfect opportunity to give the post a fresh start. I wanted to rewrite it, revisit those sweet childhood memories, and, in a small way, honor the years I spent blogging and sharing pieces of my life with you. After all, those stories are part of my history, and I don’t want to lose them.

I originally posted when my blog was called Queen Jarrell. I began blogging to document my life during my second marriage. Gosh! That seems so long ago!

Remembering Halloween, originally from my blog, Queen Jarrell, has been refreshed but still holds the memories that made it special to me in the first place.

Remembering Halloween

Fall has always held a special place in my heart. Maybe it’s the cooler weather, the changing leaves, or the excuse to pull out my favorite sweaters. But more than anything, fall brings back memories of Halloweens past.

My earliest Halloween memory is one I can still picture so clearly. I’m wrapped in a sheet that has probably seen better days, peeking through a large hole cut out for my eyes. I’m scrambling out of the backseat of our old Pontiac, clutching a paper grocery sack nearly as big as I am. I can hardly wait to run up to a stranger’s front door and shout, “Trick-or-treat!” as they drop candy into my bag.

I can still remember the excitement. There was just something magical about Halloween when you were a little girl. Honestly, I can close my eyes and almost be right back there.

Growing up, we didn’t have many extras. My parents worked hard to provide for our family, and fancy Halloween costumes weren’t in the budget. My sister and I usually went as ghosts or witches. A ghost required little more than an old sheet, while a witch needed a store-bought hat, a black trash bag, and a little imagination.

By the end of the evening, those witch hats were usually crumpled beyond recognition, and the trash bags weren’t exactly high fashion. But my mother knew how to work a little magic with makeup. A bit of green eyeshadow to tint our faces, and lipstick, and we were transformed! Even back then, wearing makeup felt awfully exciting.

Halloween wasn’t just an evening event back then. It was practically a holiday in itself, beginning the minute we walked into school. Some children even wore their costumes to class. Looking back, I can only imagine what our teachers went through!

We didn’t call them fall parties, either. They were full-fledged Halloween parties, complete with homemade cupcakes decorated for the occasion, gory costumes, and classrooms transformed into little haunted houses. Jack-o’-lanterns and skeletons hung from the walls, and we sang silly witch songs about stirring bubbling brews in big black cauldrons. We embraced every bit of the Halloween spirit, and the more festive and spooky, the better! We played games, ate treats, and had plenty of excitement. Of course, someone always got a little too carried away with the goodies and ended up feeling sick.

Those few hours between school and trick-or-treating seemed to last forever. We decorated paper grocery bags with crayons and markers on the kitchen floor, which was a treat in itself. When we finished, Mom rolled the tops down or made handles so our little hands could hold them more easily. We didn’t need fancy trick-or-treat bags. We made do with what we had.

Since the time change came earlier back then, darkness arrived pretty quickly. I was so excited to get out the door that I could barely eat dinner. And that was saying something, because my favorite meal was Mom’s homemade macaroni-and-cheese casserole. We’re talking the real deal, not macaroni and cheese out of a box! As soon as Daddy arrived home from work, we were ready to dash out of the door. I doubt he even had time to eat.

Finally, we loaded into the car, clutching the backs of the front seats. Back then, seat belts weren’t even a thought! Because we didn’t live in a subdivision, trick-or-treating meant driving from house to house along a planned route. No neat rows of houses just a few steps apart, with porch lights guiding the way… every stop took time, and our candy collection grew a little more slowly.

We were thrilled when we finally had enough candy to cover the bottom of our enormous grocery sacks. We certainly weren’t filling pillowcases or hauling home buckets overflowing with treats. Looking back, we were so happy with so little. I wonder how many children today actually eat all the candy they collect!

Once we got home, tired but happy, Daddy always insisted on checking our candy. I thought he was just making sure everything was safe. As an adult, I have a sneaking suspicion that the inspection had a little more to do with sampling all his favorite pieces. Candy was a special treat in our house, and I’m pretty sure Daddy knew exactly what he was looking for!

One Halloween, though, nearly broke my little heart.

I woke up with a stomach virus on Halloween morning. I was devastated. How could this happen? Of all the days in the year, why Halloween? I couldn’t imagine missing out on trick-or-treating. To me, the entire holiday was ruined.

But my parents came to the rescue. A couple of days later, they arranged a special Halloween just for me, taking me along our usual route and stopping at the houses where people had been expecting us. I was absolutely amazed! Halloween hadn’t been ruined after all! One of my favorite memories was visiting my teacher at her door. I was so excited to see her and show off my costume. I had no idea that my parents had planned it all ahead of time, making sure everyone was ready for my special trick-or-treating adventure. As a little girl, I was simply thrilled to have my Halloween after all. Looking back now, I realize just how thoughtful and loving that gesture was. My parents went out of their way to turn what felt like a terrible disappointment into a memory I would treasure for years to come. I don’t think I appreciated it nearly enough at the time, but I certainly do now. What a special gift that was!

When I think about why Halloween remains so special to me, it really has very little to do with the costumes or the candy. It’s the memories. It’s my mother helping us get dressed, the excitement of decorating our paper bags, the smell of dinner cooking, and piling into the car with my family. It’s my daddy sneaking candy and my parents finding a way to save Halloween when I thought all was lost.

We didn’t have elaborate costumes or an abundance of treats, but we had traditions. Our parents made ordinary things feel special. And we had fun.

Sometimes I wonder whether children today miss out on some of those simpler experiences as Halloween grows bigger, with elaborate costumes and neighborhoods designed for trick-or-treating. But then I remind myself that every generation has its own traditions. The children collecting candy today will grow up, too, and one day they’ll look back on their own Halloweens with the same fondness I feel for mine.

That’s the beauty of childhood memories. We may not realize we’re making them at the time, but years later, the simplest moments often mean the most.

So, as Halloween rolls around again, I hope you take a moment to enjoy the little things. Whether you’re dressing up the kids, handing out candy, heading out with the grandchildren, or simply reminiscing about Halloweens past, there’s something wonderful about a tradition that brings a little magic into our lives.

Happy Halloween! Make some memories, treasure the old ones, and enjoy every little bit of fall magic.

The Unexpected Emotions of Retirement: Learning to Embrace a New Season

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In June, I said goodbye to my thirty-one-year teaching career.

Although I loved my career for so many years, people are right: at some point, you just know it’s time to retire. I couldn’t seem to find my motivation anymore. Everything work-related felt harder than it should have. My body no longer agreed with getting up at 4:45 a.m., and I seemed to have less time to plan properly—or maybe I simply wasn’t as efficient as I once was.

My caffeine and stress-snack intake for survival was insane!

Student behavior had become increasingly challenging over the years. Or maybe it was my post-menopausal lack of patience. I’ll let you decide.

At home, I felt stretched thin. I was too tired to keep my house as clean and organized as I wanted, and I longed to be more available for my parents. More than anything, I wanted to truly enjoy my life again.

I was ready for a change. What I wasn’t prepared for was everything that came with it.

Nobody Warned Me About the Feelings

My first month of retirement brought so many unexpected emotions. No one could have prepared me for the emotional roller coaster I had willingly boarded. I was practically overstimulated by feelings that seemed to change every hour. How is it even possible to feel so many conflicting emotions in such a short time?

The first week, I was excited. I had all these ideas about what retirement should look like and how it should feel. After all, I’d been thinking about this season of my life since my early twenties.

Then came the feeling of being lost, as if someone had snatched a piece of my identity away.

I had always called myself a teacher. But once I retired, could I still claim that title? What if I ended up doing something entirely different for work? Surely, I would always be a teacher at heart. I even worried that my students would forget me.

Thirty-one years of pouring yourself into a career doesn’t simply disappear because you turn in your keys and walk out the door for the last time.

Apparently, neither does the habit of worrying about everything.

The Relief Was Real

Along with the uncertainty came an enormous sense of relief.

I no longer had to deal with classroom discipline problems. I could say goodbye to the dreaded Sunday Scaries—that special kind of anxiety that begins creeping in just as you’re trying to enjoy the last few hours of your weekend.

No more observations. No more trying to survive an overly hectic school day while mentally calculating everything I still needed to do before tomorrow.

And it was a relief to know I would have a dependable monthly retirement income. As a single woman, the thought of getting sick or injured, missing work, and losing a paycheck had always been a tremendous worry. There is a certain comfort in knowing that a bad day—or even a bad week—doesn’t automatically mean a smaller paycheck.

I could finally breathe.

The Freedom to Start Again

Retirement also brought a wonderful sense of freedom.

For the first time in decades, I could begin figuring out when my body naturally wanted to wake up and go to bed. I could eat on a normal schedule and actually cook breakfast instead of grabbing something in a hurry.

I could explore other jobs, pursue hobbies, plan adventures, and create an entirely new lifestyle.

Technically, I could even wear pajamas all day.

But let’s be honest. That so isn’t me. I might be retired, but I still have standards. Even if no one else sees the outfit, I do.

Still, the freedom to decide how I spend my time has been one of retirement’s greatest gifts.

Of course, freedom and uncertainty seem to go hand in hand.

The Fear Nobody Sees

For that first month, I was genuinely afraid.

I had no idea what my monthly retirement check would look like, and I questioned whether I could make it financially. Having started over so many times in my life, I wasn’t exactly entering retirement with a picture-perfect financial portfolio.

At times, I felt as though I were living on a hope and a prayer.

I worried about every little thing. Would I have enough? What if something unexpected happened? What if I needed more money than I had planned?

And perhaps some of those fears finally had room to surface because my brain wasn’t completely exhausted from teaching. When you spend years moving from one responsibility to the next, you don’t always have time to stop and think about everything that could go wrong.

Give yourself a little quiet, and apparently your brain will happily provide a full list of possibilities.

Some of them are even imaginary.

I knew I would need to be more intentional with my money. I also knew I might eventually need to work part-time or find another way to supplement my income. I still don’t know exactly what the future will look like, but I am learning that I don’t have to figure it all out at once.

For now, I can make thoughtful choices, adjust when necessary, and trust myself to handle whatever comes next.

Missing the People

I found that I missed the social interaction at work, even though I don’t consider myself a people-y person.

I made many lasting friendships throughout my teaching career, and some of my final years were among the best. I missed the coffee and energy tea orders, the shared breaks, the lunches, and even the weekly meetings with my teammates.

Yes, I actually missed the meetings. Retirement does strange things to a person.

I’m naturally an introvert, so I worried that without the built-in social interaction of school, I would stop making an effort to connect with people. It is easy to become comfortable in your own little world, especially when you no longer have somewhere to be at a certain time every morning.

But I know I need those connections. Friendship, laughter, and simply having someone to share the little things with are important. Retirement may have removed the daily routine of seeing my coworkers, but it doesn’t mean I want to give up the relationships that made those years special.

I will simply have to be more intentional about maintaining them.

The Guilt of Being Only 54

Perhaps the most surprising emotion of all was guilt.

I felt as though I should be working a full-time job. After all, I am only 54 and in good health. Wasn’t it my obligation, as a productive human being, to keep working?

Somehow, I had convinced myself that choosing not to work full-time meant I wasn’t doing enough.

Then I stopped and looked at my life a little differently.

I’ve had a job since I was thirteen, even if that first job was babysitting. I worked throughout high school and college, and I spent years working without taking a weekend off. I devoted thirty-one years to teaching.

I have spent most of my life being productive, meeting obligations, and showing up for other people.

Was it really so unreasonable to want to spend this season of my life doing some things for myself?

I finally realized that I have earned the right to enjoy this chapter while I am healthy enough to do so. If I can pay my bills, live comfortably within a smaller budget, and find happiness in the life I have created, then I am entitled to make that choice.

I can always return to work if I choose to.

But I don’t have to make that decision based on guilt or obligation.

I want to make it based on what is right for me.

What Do I Want From Retirement?

As I sorted through these emotions, I realized I needed to focus less on what retirement was supposed to look like and more on what it should mean to me.

I want to work on my mental and physical health now that I have the time.

I want productive routines that give my days structure without making me feel as though I am rushing through life.

I want hobbies.

I want adventures.

I want to spend time with the people I love.

I want a peaceful life.

I want to be more intentional about enjoying the things I own and appreciating the life I’ve created.

I want to be more conscious of how I spend my money.

And I want to earn enough extra money to live comfortably, rather than constantly wanting more.

I don’t need every day to be extraordinary. I just want to appreciate the ordinary days instead of wishing them away.

Perhaps that is one of the biggest lessons I’m learning: a good life doesn’t have to be an impressive life. Sometimes, it is simply a life that feels good to live.

Learning to Appreciate the Ordinary

People ask me all the time how I am enjoying retirement, and my answer is that nothing feels quite like it—in all the ways.

Now that I’ve settled into it a little more, I know I could never return to working the way I once did. I love my life so much now, and I find joy in the most unexpected things.

Even cleaning my toilets.

I know. I never thought I’d say that, either.

I still have plenty of chores I don’t particularly enjoy, but when I catch myself dreading one, I remind myself I could be standing in a classroom with several disrespectful fifth graders instead.

That usually puts things into perspective rather quickly.

In fact, I remind myself of this often because I never want to take for granted the peace and gratitude I feel now. I spent so many years rushing from one responsibility to the next that I sometimes forgot to notice the life happening around me.

Now, I have time to notice.

I notice the trees changing colors because, for the first time in a long time, I have slowed down enough to pay attention. I sip my coffee outside instead of gulping it down before rushing out the door. I enjoy working in my yard, caring for my home, and making decisions based on what I want to do rather than what my schedule demands.

These things may seem insignificant to someone else, but they feel like little luxuries to me.

And perhaps that is what I was really craving all along—not an endless vacation or a life without responsibilities, but the freedom to experience my own life without constantly feeling behind.

Embracing This Season

I don’t know what next year holds. I’m still figuring out how to manage my finances and whether I’ll need to work more hours than I’d like. I know there will be challenges, and I’m sure I’ll have days when I question my decisions.

Life has taught me that very few things come with guarantees.

But for now, I am thankful.

Thankful for a career that has let me make a difference in so many children’s lives. Thankful for the friendships I’ve made along the way. Thankful for the opportunity to begin again, even at 54. And thankful for the health and freedom to enjoy this season of my life.

As I watch the leaves change and sip my coffee outside, I am reminded that there is beauty in changing seasons.

Trees don’t seem to apologize for letting go of their leaves. They don’t rush to become something else before their time. They simply move through the season they are in.

Maybe we could learn something from them.

I’m learning that I don’t have to know exactly what comes next to appreciate where I am right now. I don’t have to fill every hour to prove that my days have value. And I don’t have to feel guilty for choosing peace over productivity.

For thirty-one years, I helped prepare children for the next chapter of their lives.

Now, it’s my turn to live mine.

For the first time in a long time, I have the time to enjoy the view along the way.

Under Construction

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Sixteen years of blog posts… gone. While it’s certainly disappointing to lose so many years of memories, stories, and moments, I’m choosing to look at it as an opportunity rather than an ending.

Life has a way of changing our plans, sometimes when we least expect it. We can hold on to what was, or embrace what might be. I’m choosing the latter.

Miss Everchanging isn’t going away.

I’m simply turning the page, starting fresh, and making room for whatever comes next. After all, change has always been part of the journey. Why should this be any different?

Stay tuned. There’s more to come!