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#respecttheprocess

This hashtag makes me both laugh, and give an audible “AMEN”, hands raised to the sky, at the same time.

It was berthed at work for me a couple of years ago with a colleague of mine, however, has randomly shown up in several things outside of work, that I’ve been listening to and reading recently.  

So, finally, about the 47th time I ran into it (because I’m the type of person who requires sledge-hammer-like nudges/signs/signals to “follow here”), I began to noodle on its over-arching relevance in life.

I’m currently working through the dreaming + building process of something that I believe I was created to do.  So, it has caught my attention, this little saying, relative to beginning a journey, that I really have no idea what it will look like, or how it will play out (that I’m terrified, in general of going after it, and overwhelmed by, so there’s THAT part…) but I just know I’ve got a calling on my heart and my life, that I need to explore.  And so, I begin a climb. And when you’re in the midst of something that you have no real idea of the destination, the other side, or what ‘good’ looks like necessarily, you’re stepping into territory where you just simply need to, well…respect the process.

Where is this process, you ask?

As I noodled on the slogan, ultimately I landed on, respecting the process is true for life.  Isn’t it?

Are you trying something new?  Respect the process of that learning curve.

Are you trying to accomplish a goal?  Respect the process of failing and trying again (repeat).

Are you wading through heartbreak?  That, too, has a process. Unique to each human, but it’s a process.

Get some tough news?  Gotta process it.

Raising kids?  Pregnant? Maybe determining you don’t want kids, or the super hard one, can’t have a successful pregnancy but you want kiddos?  All of that is a process for your mind, body and soul.

Buying a house.  Selling a house.

Losing weight.

Starting school.

Quitting smoking, drinking, over-eating.

Going through a breakup.

Battling physical challenges, of all kinds.

Starting a new job. Losing or leaving a job.

Making friends.  Heck, maintaining friendships over the years.

Show me something that, at the end of it, doesn’t require us to, if we’re honest, respect the process of how to navigate that thing.  And you know what most of us would rather do? Just get to the other side of it, thank you very much. Get me to the thing, the end result, the other side of some emotion, the goal.  In general, we don’t drop down and think, “I am so ready to focus on the hard parts of going through a divorce, let’s do this!!”. Er, most likely, no.  

On the other side of the process…

What we have to realize is, the goodness in life comes from intentionally (and I might add with some gratitude) going through ‘the process’.

What the process of anything does is builds us, shows us what we’re capable of, develops our emotional intelligence, drives us towards something better, builds confidence, humbles us – to our own life, but also to the things that others may be facing, similar to our own.  When we participate in the process, it gives us experience and knowledge that just reading or observing could not. It gives us our unique character and qualities that the world needs from each one of us. 

I heard the quote recently by Robert Frost, “the best way out is always through”. Otherwise said, respect the process, friends. And the really beautiful thing is, someone else in this world is going to be blessed by the process you go through.

Wait, what? Yes, I said blessed. Because the real important thing you can do is – share your story. I know, probably the most scariest of the whole darn thing. But your unique self, with your experience, someone else can learn from; and maybe feel less alone as they walk through their own version of something that may be quite similar. You can impart on the world your compassion of that ‘thing’ – that process you walked through.

So don’t skip it. Just go through and #respecttheprocess. The world is depending upon you. (No pressure.)

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DateLife

You read that accurately. DateLife. Not to be confused with Date Night, or maybe, Night Life. DateLife. Some may ask, “how’s your dating life?” Not the same. Let me explain.

A couple weeks ago, my sweet, sweet hubby @MikeRaymond had planned a wonderful night away for the two of us. Long overdue. We have been running DEAD SPRINTS since the holidays. We needed to see each others eyeballs and spend time with the person we are still wild about (most days!) and would marry over and over again. (ENOUGH with the gushing, already, I know, I get it…on with the story.)

Mike mentions we’re going to a great restaurant that we love but neither of us have been to in ages. I casually ask Saturday morning, “should we get a reservation?” Him, “Nah, I checked their reservation options, they were really wide open. Worst case, we’ll belly up at the bar, that is always so fun!” Okay, let me not take on additional responsibilities and overthink or worry, you got this, bro.

We head out and Mike takes us to this supercute, kinda swanky but cozy hotel in downtown Stillwater, MN. (The Crosby Hotel, shout out to this place, newly remodeled, great staff, nestled in a fun little spot. #notanad) We walk in and notice there is a great restaurant inside the hotel (literally, the hotel lobby and this restaurant are largely in a shared space, totally fun!). We walk up to the desk to check in and Mike says, “Hello! I have a reservation for a room tonight under Mike Raymond.” Super nice young man begins to type away on his computer. A minute later, he’s still typing. Still typing, like, he’s the one writing this blog. Then, to add to his literary work on those keys, he starts to show a clearly confused facial expression. He looks up and says “You do appear to have a reservation, but it’s not until APRIL 9th, sir.”

I giggle. Yes. Hilarious. Love this. Mike looks a teeny thrown off . I look at Mike and say “all good, we’ll figure it out and still have fun!”

Conversation with Mike and Hotel Guy runs like this:

Mike, “Huh, okay, well – do you have ANY rooms available?” Hotel guy, “We do, it’s our King-size-something-or-other.” Mike, “Okay, sounds good! Let’s book it!” Hotel guy, “It’s going to be XXX, is that okay?” (It’s honestly some dollar amount, $200? I don’t remember, I’m dying of laughter at this point.) To which Mike replies, “Sounds good, buddy. You could have said $500 and, standing here with m’lady, ready for a night away, and I would have said yes to anything. You might have wanted to think about saying there were some special add-ons for yourself you needed to charge me for!”

We head to our room, drop our bags, relax for a hot minute and start to get ready to head to dinner. We decide we’d leave around 6, take an Uber. Super simple.

We walk out to the hotel lobby and notice that the lobby/restaurant crowd has EXPLODED. Standing room only. Kinda crowded, frankly. It’s impressive. Clearly, it must be a fun spot, but we’re still gonna head to our little honey hole.

So, super simple Uber, or, not. As it turns out, Uber, not a big thing there in downtown Stillwater. To be fair, downtown Stillwater IS considered a little hot spot – though, we were thinking that was more a summertime thing. And ‘downtown’ isn’t real big, so mostly, people walk. But, as it turns out, nope, winter draws the people in, too (as evidence starts to show itself in this little restaurant/hotel lobby we’re standing around in). So, we are likely the only people leaving downtown to head over to a little spot about 15 minutes away. FINE, no Uber. Turns out, no taxis at this point either. Aww come on.

We get the truck and we head out. It’s 630ish and I’m starting to get HANGRY. We roll up to the street the restaurant is on. There is NO parking within a 2 block radius. I start to feel the reservation regret creep up a little bit, but, we press on. Mike drops me off, I wander in. NO reservation availability until 8pm. I walk through the bar (you know, plan B, “Kim, we’ll belly up to the bar!”) and like a TOTAL CREEP, I eyeball everyone and their plate, trying to determine are they ‘close to being done?’. Not a chance. Except for one couple who was just wrapping it up, however, I was getting very clear signals from another couple that had already “done their time” swirling like vultures, before I got there to do it myself. Well done, couple, well done.

I walk back out, jump in the truck. We start solutioning. Looking at other options online, I call, and get the standard (as I hear the background noise level that was similar to the hotel restaurant/lobby…ugh) “no reservations until 8pm”. We drive around, we’re texting some friends that know the area. It’s now call it after 7PMish. We finally decide – to heck with it, let’s just go back to our dang hotel, kick off all these winter duds, grab a cocktail and just wait our turn to eat at the crazy busy restaurant there.

Mike drops me back off. I spy one of my favorite sweets place on the planet, Candyland. I score their Chicago Mix (the best on the planet!!!) for myself, some gummy bears for Mike and drop them into my fancy purse (fancy: there is no remnant of snacks for the kids, hand wipes, kleenex, charging cords for some device…you get it. Fancy!!!) and inside I go to find the hubby. We order cocktails and eat Candyland food until they tell us our table is ready. As per usual, Mike has made friends in the lobby/bar area and we have a blast during our dinner with our server who is a former-comedian-turned-some-kind-of-science-student (WAH?) at the U of M.

All that to story to say, datelife. Dates are really just really awesome, intentional time, with your spouse, partner, friends, kids…they need not be perfectly scripted and executed flawlessly. In fact, I advise against this. You’ll miss the fun. You’ll miss the conversation. You’ll miss the views. You’ll miss the purpose. To spend time, focused on people you love, that you keep choosing, over and over in life. If your date plan falls apart, and you end up eating popcorn out of your purse and sipping on a cocktail in a crowded hotel/restaurant lounge, laughing and creating new memories and filling up your love buckets, or whatever the evening creates for of all your ‘feels’, then my friend, you, too, have a very blessed, datelife. That is dating, that is life.

And also, go try out MatchStick, it’s the amazing restaurant in the hotel.

#noneofthisisanad #wespentallourownmoneynodiscounts

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#cabinlife

If you live in Minnesota, it’s likely you are less than .0001 degrees of separation from someone that owns and enjoys a cabin somewhere in this mighty, beautiful state.  Honestly, if you don’t own one (or second place, own a camper), you feel a little bit like you have cheated on your own state, it’s people, it’s traditions.

*gasp* I am one of those cheaters.  

But, I know I’m also not alone here!  And this story is for those of you that A) like to laugh and B) want to know if you can do #cabinlife, sans the cabin.  The answer is, spoiler alert, YES, to both.

Now, I feel as though cabin life, (inclusive of fishing) and deer hunting, rival one another for the #1 spot here in the land of 10,000 lakes.  Thankfully, my husband does his part to make up in the deer hunting portion for our family, so, WHEW. (We’ll save my insights on being a hunter’s wife for later…I’m still in the thick of that season and have ZERO sane perspective right now to embark on the topic.)

So, cabin life.  Something that, from my perspective only, looks like this:

  • Own two places of residency (one happens to have water, I get it, this is a big pull for folks)
  • Two lawns to mow
  • Shoreline to maintain
  • More beds, bathrooms, etc. to clean
  • Pack up belongings in your car on Thursday night, so you can make tail like crazy people on Friday and get out of dodge
  • Get in said vehicle, and drive with 10 million other cabin-bound people on the three roads leading out of the Minneapolis/St. Paul area
  • Drive for hours, in stop and go traffic, to reach said-destination, to unpack all the belongings.
  • OH!  I forgot at some point: before, during, or after the drive, get all the food you need for said-cabin.
  • After unpacking belongings (while you open the door 47 times to let the state bird MOSQUITO and it’s entire family into your cabin), you enjoy a quick trip to fish, ride around the lake, some cocktails, or, just call it a night
  • In the morning, you tend to aforementioned “more things to do” list

Look, just typing that out, in that tone, I’m liable to get us kicked out of the state.  I probably need to change my home address for fear of consequences and repercussions.

Listen, I LOVE ALL YOU CABIN PEOPLE.  That is just my head-space on cabin-ing.  Some of my most beloved are cabin (or, a-hem, “glamping”) people, and they have a social media highlight reel that brings me complete joy to watch them, in their element, in the great up north/outdoors.  It’s just not my thing…that list above is merely the ‘short list’ of why we (hubby also has definitively declined cabin ownership, to my total surprise, but for some of the same reasons) opted to not own a cabin.  

However, my curiosity piqued in the last two years, as friends of ours procured gl-ampers, and I met a couple of new colleagues who were deep into cabin-dweller-ville.  I thought to myself, look, a bazillion Minnesotans have to be on to something here. What is it? What am I maybe missing? So, I listened.  

Over the course of the “cabin season” I listened to the stories of “putting out docks”, campfires, boat rides, fishing, sand bars, “lake families”.  I looked at the pictures: snuggles, relax, smiles.

I haven’t lived under a total rock my entire life, so I have been to a cabin or two.  I re-examined my memories of “what did we do while we were there?”. Well, we ate, cocktailed (sometimes a little, sometimes a lot), cleaned up from one meal while we planned the next, played cards, sat in chairs and talked (inside or out), went on the boat, wet a line, sat in the water…so while there is the proverbial ‘to do list’ – there was also a lot of, well, chill.

There is no sense of “must run to Target to get that one thing we can’t live without”.

There is no squeeze in three birthday and two grad parties into a weekend.  (My observation of cabin-people: “We love you dear one! We’ll send a thoughtful card and cash, and see you next week at Betty’s house like we always do!”  Huh. Still going to see you, love you, and yet, not have to attend #allthethings. Well, that’s an approach I hadn’t thought of…)

There’s no “Oh, no, sorry, friends/family/loved ones of mine here at my cabin, I can’t play/do/be that thing right now with you, I need to go inside and do “X” (insert some time-sucking chore indoors that you are zero percent are interested in doing, when it’s gorgeous and sunny and warm and bathing suit-meets-yummy-smells-of-sunscreen, aka not blizzarding for seven months weather screaming GET YOUR BUTTS OUTSIDE PEOPLE!)”.  

You live in a state of mind, more so of “sure, sounds good, let’s eat second breakfast (I love Hobbits) on the deck and drink four more cups of coffee together, start up our card game from last night and talk about life”.  And think thoughts like, “how early, is too early, for a White Claw?”.

So, I did an experiment.  I decided we were going to give cabin-life a go (wait for it): AT HOME. (Insert gasping and gnashing of teeth, cabin-peeps, but stay with me here.)

First, it required laying some groundwork: I had to tell my crazy-lady idea to my husband, who looked at me as though I had lost my mind (one more time).  But, he was intrigued and played along. My plan, and first attempt at cabin weekend would be a major one: Labor Day weekend (look, much of my research and analysis occurred over the course of summer, so it didn’t all come together until Labor Day weekend – don’t judge, people).

I outlined what I had heard / observed my fellow cabin-folk people do, so we, too, would prep for the ‘cabin’:

Somewhere between Wednesday night and Thursday night:

  • Mow lawn (Mike).
  • Grocery shop / plan / prep for the weekend, and some semblance of food we would need the following week (Kim).
  • Clean house/52 pick up/whatever version of clean my OCD self needed it to be that day, going into the weekend (who doesn’t love walking into their cabin, left fresh and clean from the last time we were there?!). (Oh, you know this is “KIM”)

Friday afternoon/early evening:

  • Work, per the usual.  However, one of us (ME) wrap up an hour or so early, because we are “cabin-people” and we want to get on the road “early” (minus the whole packing of all the belongings thing).
  • Family is all home by 5ish.
  • Fill up pools (it’s no lake, but it’s water and splashing and cooling off in the heat).
  • All swimming attire/sunscreen/bugspray is in a cute little tub by the sliding glass door to the deck, and one tub in the garage as well for good measure.

That’s cabin weekend prep, in a nutshell.

Friday night we “arrive” at the cabin.  And, here’s what we did, for three days:  Whatever we wanted.  And laughed. And chilled.  And, the end.

I have so many memories of that first weekend, I could tell you so many stories of the amount of relax with my family that occurred.  As a very “task” oriented person, I don’t do “chill” — and it was glorious to simply “be” with my family and do whatever the mood pushed us to do.

There were multiple things that almost thwarted this cabin-weekend execution.  There was the impulsive moment where I almost drug us away from playing and off to Target (for something of zero consequence); there was the laundry moment (oy); there were the two instances for Mike, and going to do some “outdoorsy” things; he was sure he was going to sink our happy little cabin ship, to which I joyfully said, “Go forth!  Be outdoorsy! Isn’t that what cabin people do?”. His facial expression was priceless.

So, here it comes.  The trick.  The secret.  The, “how did you maintain your chill, when your tasks and projects, are staring you in the face?”:  

As a RULE, I would mentally check myself (if I was going to shift activities away from the general “hang out” ones): “Would I do this thing, if I were at a cabin?”  It’s both super simple and hard to do. If the answer was no – then happily I moved back to the chill.

At the end of it, it’s probably the same notion of “stay-cation” that people have coined.  In this case, it just happens to be wrapped around the culture of “cabin life” in Minnesota.  What I can tell you is, it is worth it. So much so, my girls asked for it in the weeks following.  We now set up our calendar for the year to reflect our cabin weekends. Given that people “cabin” year round (because there is ice fishing and snowmobiling, people!), we also have woven in some time in the winter as well.  

It doesn’t have to be expensive.  You don’t need a second mortgage. You don’t have to feel left out of our cabin-loving friends/family/loved ones.  Even in the city, you can get yourself to a park or a lake (there’s 10,000 of them…so if you can’t, you’re not trying) in many cases within walking distance.  We set up those little cheapy pools, or turn on a sprinkler in the backyard. Our deck is an extension of our house and we live there as much as we do inside. We set our $30 fire-pit in the driveway and wave to our “lake neighbors” while the girls ride their bikes, draw chalk pictures and we roast marshmallows.  It’s really that simple (and for a “doer” like me, can be hard!).  

Life is going to happen to you, or you can push back into that notion and make and LIVE your life. I’ve learned in recent years, the value of being diligent in reaching for joy. #cabinlife is one of my favorites so far.

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Show them your smile (I DARE YOU)

Oooo, this subject has gotten to me.  Real good.  I’ve talked with girlfriends and family and I can’t shake it.  Which means, I need to blog about it.

I have observed something over the last several years, and I have a deep need to share it, have it inform you, so we can collectively do something about it.  I don’t need your time or money; there is no charity name to give, no donation, no sign up needed.

 I need your smile.  And I need it out in the world, wherever that finds you today.  And I need it starting right now.  Because more than ever, this world needs it.  IT NEEDS YOUR SMILE.
 
Here’s the thing:
 
When I was pregnant with my first baby, I noticed that as soon as I had that fun little baby bump, I got a lot more smiles.  Randomly, people would take one look at my belly and it would literally light up people’s faces and I’d get this smile.  Sometimes they were ear to ear, sometimes, just a soft smile. And those unsolicited, beautiful, generous smiles – they were day makers. Not so much because of the baby-factor, but I noticed that the smiles do something so wonderful for the soul, that almost nothing else can.  Just google “benefits of smiling” – there are hundreds of articles on all the good things they do for you.
 
Some themes from the Google:
 
Improves mood (I dare you, smile, right now, get someone else to smile back, tell me you didn’t feel a lift).
Reduces stress (Hmmm, the stressed category, so, EVERYONE).
Retrain your brain for the better (what? who wants to be better?).
They are CONTAGIOUS (show me a baby who smiles and the world doesn’t smile right back? watching my two little girls flash their dimples at people is absolutely priceless in the smiles that break on other people’s faces – brings total joy).
Boosts your productivity (turns out, you don’t need to be “heads down” to get more done, eh?).
 
And it should be noted, even mustering up a smile, even if it feels mildly fake, still has powerful mental affects.
 
 Think about when you’re out doing your daily grind, and you get that genuine, contagious smile from a total stranger.  It catches you off-guard, in the most spectacular kind of way and adjusts your brain and heart, like, “Yeah. Yeah!  I can do this day.  Look at me smiling!  I got this.  You got this, too, random friendly smiler in the check-out line.  We got this, world.”  Boom.  Day-changer.
 
 So then, you know, I give birth and no longer have said baby-bump, the smiles don’t flash.  And I miss it.  And I think – why?  Why do I miss it?  And why in the heck are smiles at such a freakin’ premium these days, if they can make people feel so damn good (and they are FREE)?
 
 My “why” reflection went on for a while – and I think I landed here:  It creates a connectedness between humans.  Something we’re deeply missing in this day in age.  Even a moment of connection.  A moment of, I see you, and I want you to know it.  A tiny little bit of goodness exchanged, without any sort of requirements, expectations or words.
 
 So I have this thought: I’m going to make it a point to smile when I’m out and about.  For two reasons: First, I want to give that feel-good to other people and get some smiles back!  (See above and Google yourself why smiles are amazing and why I wanted them back.)  Second, I want to see how the world responds, because I know in the very depths of my heart, more people need a genuine smile and connectedness inundating the human spirit.  (You don’t even need to Google ‘why’ on this statement, #amiright?)
 
 
And you know what I observed in my smile-observing research (very, very scientific-y, mind you)?  In general – and I’m not gonna sugar coat it: it’s a SAD STATE OF AFFAIRS, people.
We are heads down.
Too busy.
Too busy looking at our phones.
Too busy focused on whatever takes care of me, not you.
Too busy helping myself and not recognizing the human need in front of us, in a very basic way.
 
Now, I get it.  Everyone can have a bad day.  But I’m talking bad, like, devastating bad. The days where it’s hard to even lift your head off the pillow, because you live with such debilitating circumstances, where the chips are stacked against you and there’s no two-ways about it.  The really effing-hard days.  And on those days, yes, free passes are given.  Grace is given.
 
For this category, for those people who are having those devastating days, here’s the thing: They fundamentally need YOUR smile – one from the rest of us general-folk, primarily going about our business.  They likely could use hundreds of smiles.  Your smile might be the one thing that saves them in that moment. Think about your bad days.  How many times has a smile saved, if even just a moment, of that day for you?  Gave you a little lift and it was welcomed, like, inside of your soul, welcomed.  You could probably name the person who was able to pull you out of that funk for a minute.
 
Then there are the rest of us, in the non-devastating category.  The generic days, good and bad, ups and downs, life’s stressing us out (because it’s LIFE, people).  I’m going to go with that’s about, let’s see, um, numbers-wise, pretty much a whole crap-ton of folks in this category.  (There are at least six of you in my inner tribe that hate me right now without having solid data.  I love you.  Thank you for loving me and my math-free part of life.)
 
 So at the end of it, my target-audience for my ask is the crap-ton of people, Kim-statistically speaking.
 
So here it is.  Here’s the ASK: I want you to start your own smile experiment.  Maybe you do it for a day, or a week. I want you to get out there (and frankly, you can try it at home) and SMILE YOUR BRAINS OUT.  See what happens.  Report back.  Start to Facebook and Instagram about it.  I want to start the #smilemovement.  Tag me.  Use the hashtag.  Or don’t.  But I dare you to try it.  The world needs it, right now, and it costs you absolutely nothing.  And I’d put my morning cup of coffee on it that it is a game-changer for you – and could change the world.  (Note: first cup of coffee is worth more than my paycheck, if you know me well at all.)  Yes.  I’m being that dramatic and that lofty in it’s capability to create tiny bits of love and healing that translate into big things for humanity.
 
I started it – right here.  I’m wearing a peach scrunchie and no make-up people, but in case you needed an example, here you go.  Some smiles.  Your turn.  Let’s do this, people.  Change the world with a #smilemovement.
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There’s never a “good time” to start, right?

2 am and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

-Anna Nalick, Breathe

Writing.  Blogging.  Words down on “paper”.  Life’s stories, shared.  I have loved to write, for as long as I can remember.  Not for a particular theme, or audience, usually the audience was me, because it was all penned, in my head.  The topics run the gamut.

There has always been something sacred about my writing (and singing, we’ll get to that later) that, for many reasons (we’ll also get to later) I kept largely to myself.  Like the lyrics above, I was too scared and nervous to put them out for others to see.  The world judges people enough…I was largely uninterested in having something so intimate to me live someplace that allowed for (as my husband would put it) the “keyboard cowboys” to have their way with it.  And with it, I would drum up all the (WHOLLY unappreciated) feelings that come with that judgement, wrapped in the head and heart of a young school girl.  Boo.

Turns out, I’m not that young school girl anymore.  THANK GOD.  (And if I could reach back, you all know I’d pull her by the hand and share a thing or two about what “worry” does for anyone, in general.)

So, through some soul searching over the past year or so (doesn’t it almost always start there?), some nudges (not really gentle, don’t you love that kind?!) that have come my way, I have made a choice to put my life, my largely shared stories, out here for you all, my readers.

Because what does sharing our stories do?  The greater good can glean insights.  Nuggets of wisdom.  Maybe pick up a life hack.  Please, please, let’s laugh.  Empathize (a lot).  Find meaning on a winding road that some days feels like we’re going it alone.  But we’re not, and just like the person next to you, we keep moving.  Let’s move together.

What I’ve found is, life for me largely falls under one of these three headers:  Movement.  Meaning.  Melody.

I penned those a while back and anytime I gave thought to a blog or a website name.  I also thought of a lot of other themes or threads.  Those have stuck.  They are largely the lens through which I find joy and what I tap into when I need to work through the suckola parts of life.  (They also happen to be the initials of my three favorite people, so there’s that, too.)

It may be a party of about 10 readers, that largely make up my immediate friends and family, but it is a party of beautiful people here, nonetheless.  Of readers – – and livers, and doers, and movers, and shakers, and melody makers (yeah you, I see you over there in the car next to me girl, belting out Andra Day’s “Rise Up” at the top of your lungs).

So, I’ll be here.  Sharing my stories.  Probably sharing some stories of those whom I love (who shall remain nameless, like the “Rise Up” singer), with the world wide web of readershipdom.  (I’m looking to be the gal who comes up with a new word for Merriam Webster. Pass it on.)

And thank you.  If you’ve spent time here, I appreciate it.  I’ll talk more later on the “why” – the heart of how this really kicked up, what I wrestled with to get here, but thanks for starting with me.  I look forward to more of you, of us, of our threeMlife.

Humbly,

KXF (more on the ‘X’ later as well)