Lynn Nicholas's Blog

Wrapping up 2023 with a slice-of-life (mine) post. In late Spring I went shopping with a friend who needed to find a new, replacement, Lazy Boy recliner for her husband. We had a great time checking out the overwhelming selection in our local store. I was stunned by the different styles and also by the marvelous fabric selections for special orders. My friend so loved the comfort of the chair she chose for her husband, she picked one out for herself. Me…I developed a bad case of Lazy Boy chair ...

I’ve been re-reading some of my older blog posts. I’m actually surprised by the clarity of many of my thought-threads, and also by some of the insights revealed (often to myself) as my fingers moved across the keyboard. Sort of like talking out loud. Issues tend to move to the forefront, and somehow things work themselves out as one verbalizes, or as so often in my case, as I write things down.

I’ve covered a lot of emotional ground in the past five-years of sharing posts (five years this Septem...

​​I’m normally a good driver—cautious, defensive, eyes on the road—won’t even turn to make eye contact with a chatty friend in the passenger seat. I've never even had a traffic ticket (might be a bit of luck involved there.) That said, I recently almost veered onto the shoulder of a main road. Just could not keep my eyes glued to the road ahead when both the median and the wide shoulders were alive with a dramatic show of wildflower blooms--intoxicating and distracting. 

For the past few weeks, ...

​“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.” C. S Lewis
I love this statement, and I think it will set the theme for the rest of my life. Being a few days out from a high, double-digit birthday, I can’t deny anymore that I am, firmly and unquestionably, a senior citizen. While I’m not particularly thrilled that I inhabit a no-longer-svelte or agile body, I am pleased to find myself more at peace with both my failures and accomplishments. ...

 I was scouting the aisles in a local big box store, doing some general stock-up shopping, when I caught a glint of sparkling color at the far end of the store. This was back in late October. My heart jumped: Christmas “stuff!” I bee-lined towards the shimmering silvers and robust reds, ribbons and bows, ornaments of all colors, stockings and stuffers, wreaths and trees, snowmen and Santas. I really love Christmas. Yup…even in October.
(photo - me, 1950's Christmas, Eaton's Dept store)

I’m aware...

I've just returned home from an international writer’s conference, which was held in Surrey, B.C., Canada (a suburb of Vancouver.) Writers of all genres, authors, editors, agents, etc. from all over the globe participated. Quite an impressive collection of creativity. Wandering the crowded halls between workshops and lectures was like being back on a college campus. And happily, I didn’t stick out like an aging, molting hen in a sea of fluffy chickens like I feared I would. I blended quite nice...

This 50th is a milestone, but don’t rush out to buy me a card. It’s not my 50th birthday I’m celebrating, although I wouldn’t mind flipping back the calendar. BTW – the photo IS me on my 50th, mumble, mumble years ago. THIS milestone, dear friends, is my 50th blog post, and no, sadly, there won’t be cake. 

Been reminiscing. How did this blog come about, you ask? What? You say you didn’t ask?! Well, I’m going to tell you anyway because I’m in that kind of mood, so pour another glass of wine and h...

​Yup. You’re right. That's a photo of a pack rat midden. Whose? Mine, sort of. It’s snuggled up against the east wall in the side yard, next to a shed that’s next to the wood pile. And why on earth, you ask, is it still there? Why haven’t we destroyed it and annihilated the inhabitant. Why indeed? Nothing short of the current, political climate polarizes southwestern desert dwellers as much as their stand on pack rats. But here’s a quote to live by: a rat is neither good nor evil, it does what ...

​There’s always room for one more, isn’t there? And I don’t mean at the dinner table. Although, yes, I have to admit that I overcook, and if truth be told, there usually is room for at least one more place setting on any given day. But what I’m really talking about here is a penchant for collecting. Collecting what, you ask? Anything from postcards, to earrings, to foreign coins, to souvenir shot glasses, to scarves, shoes—you know who you are—and on down the line to English tea cups and techie...

I hear the wind before I feel it. I step onto the patio, and wind-whipped leaves swirl around my feet. Grey clouds drift in from the west, beating the ubiquitous desert sun into hiding. The unexpected drop in temperature hits my face like a splash of ice-cold water. I pull my worn cardigan tighter. The scent of rain, maybe snow, permeates the air. 
I grab an armful of kindling from the small stack next to the firewood and twist the door open with the tip of my fingers. I push it shut with a hip....