Living the Fall Life

As I took a walk yesterday morning, crunching through the acorns and leaves, I realized I was in the middle of a dream come true: Fall is on the way, the days are getting cooler, but the season hasn't passed yet. I am thick in the throes of the beauty of the season, but I still have time for the actual season to come. What a place to be: anticipating and also enjoying at the same time.

Fall is, without a doubt, my favorite time of year. It happens in just a couple of days, Monday the 22nd. And as always, particularly because living in California means our summers last very long, I'm ready for it. 

I also love spring - it comes in a close second. But fall, with its giving way to letting go, changing, altering, and moving on... yet knowing a new future is coming to bring you more good things, feels like the most refreshing feeling in the world.

To make me truly feel connected to the season, I'm one of those who need to get into the spirit of the season. I haven't always lived the slow life, but I do now, and I realize that years ago, when I first fell in love with the autumnal season, it was because it was a return to slowing down. It was calling me all these years. Fall feels like I'm coming home every time she comes to visit.

The days are shorter, meaning more time at home. The nights are colder, which means more time cozying up in a blanket and reading. The weather means cooking, baking, creating, and mellowing. Fall is the season for those who love a slow-living lifestyle, as it marks a return to creation within the home.

As we carry through the next few months, if you're yearning to hold onto the season for as long as possible (like I am), do the things that nestle you further into that feeling. Create that home you long to be in. That world of wonder and enchantment to letting things change and enjoying it. 

1. Bake: Yes, bake that pie, or make the cupcakes, or cookies. I'm not much of a sugar-eater these days, nor do I eat much gluten, but that doesn't mean I don't occasionally indulge. Baking takes me back to when I was young, creating confectionery concoctions with my mom and sisters with every season. If you're like me, you can still bake without gluten or lessen the sugar. There are still ways to create that baking atmosphere without having to give up restrictions. But, it's also a small window to enjoy the treats you've always loved, too.

2. Create: For me, reading and writing are the biggest additions to the season. Don't get me wrong, I read and write year-round. But when the days are cooler, I want to do more of those things. My husband plays guitar, so when he's home, he's in our music room playing music. There's nothing like a home filled with live music to not only indulge the senses but take me to a place back in time where music and the arts filled every home, every day.

3. Recreate: Walking should be at the forefront of your exercise routine for the fall. Why? because of the bounty of beauty just outside your door. Every day, you can document the changing of the leaves' colors and watch the apples ripen. The darker mornings give you a chance to see the sun rise in its brilliant morning shades of magnificent to sublime. Watch new wildlife appear, new autumnal birds versus the summer birds that have cleared out. Everything is changing, and it's up to you to notice it before it changes again.

4. Make: With a new season comes a new wardrobe. It's time to put away the shorts and t-shirts and add in the sweaters, corduroy, wool, and boots. If you need a new sweater or jacket, let me suggest second-hand sweaters, preferably vintage. Vintage clothing is almost always better quality, and with better-made and better quality clothing, you also have items that will last far longer than any modern equivalent. Having sold vintage clothing for fifteen years, the quality, in my book, is incomparable. Thrift for a fall piece for your wardrobe, and if you're like me, who wants to keep their closet minimal, then donate one that no longer fits or you no longer wear. Let the circle of life within the textile world carry on.

5. Take: If there's anything to truly take with the season, it's the beauty of it. The leaves and their insane hues, magentas and pumpkin colors. Go pick apples at an orchard, find a pumpkin patch, or grab a natural and organic collection of leaves and nuts just outside your front door. Nature is leaving us gifts everywhere we turn. I even have collected a small bouquet of turkey feathers! 

Fall comes once a year. It's up to us to appreciate each season. And to do that, we have to deliberately notice the season's special attributes, whether we are inside or outside. Living the fall life means going back to our old ways of slow living and enjoying the bounty of color, smells, tastes, and sounds of the season, no matter where we live.

Happy Autumn.

All God's Creatures 2026 Devotional by Guidposts

Today, Guideposts releases a beautiful devotional book filled with stories of animals. What a fun and inspirational concept! The title says it all: Daily Devotions for Animal Lovers.

I was blessed to be a part of last year's All God's Creatures devotional (2025), and I've been doubly blessed to be a part of  All God's Creatures, 2026 as well.

In it, I have five devotions about various animal encounters, which, for me, happen quite regularly, living just across the street from a proverbial nature preserve. 

It's been a dream of mine to be part of Guideposts devotional books for years, and now that I'm doing it, I can't help but be grateful.

Get your copy of All God's Creatures, 2026, and have something fun and inspirational to read every single day... something that can set the tone for your day; one full of gratitude, a slower pace, and creature curiosities.

A Life Chosen

Just a couple of weeks ago, our internet was down, which also meant our television was down too. Our internet/ TV provider was working on the infrastructure, so the entire neighborhood was offline for the better part of a day. 

For most of us, me included, this was a bit frustrating. Most of my work is online, so not being able to get there sidetracked my day. But only sort of.

While we knew in advance that this day would be an offline kind of day, so much of what we do revolves around the use of our Wi-Fi and television. But I also decided that this would be a day of slow living for me. And I knew exactly what that would entail.

Reading, writing, gardening, and taking a very long walk. All of those things happened. 

The day was decidedly old-school in that there was no morning news on the television, there was no evening news, and the distraction of the internet wasn't available. So it was up to me to be productive the way people used to be productive.

It was interesting to write with only my writing software, knowing my internet wasn't there to distract me. It was nice to read a physical book, rather than my Kindle (because I'd forgotten to upload a book I had borrowed through Libby and couldn't read it). The garden is always wonderful, and I transplanted a succulent and tended to the weeds in my herb garden. As for the walk? It was perfect.

But I did tend to keep checking if the wi-fi was back up. I used our 5G, making sure I didn't miss important emails or orders from my business. There is a habitual online way of living that we have acquired that makes it feel like we're functioning abnormally if we don't have it.

Which, from what I'm seeing, is backwards to true living. Do we really feel it's so necessary to be tied to the internet? What would we do if the internet were broken forever? Surely we are more than humans ball-and-chained to our phones.

The next day, my husband and I walked by our elderly neighbor, who was out front picking up errant leaves on her driveway. "So, did you like that day of no internet? I was so lost at what to do without having my television," she said. "I do have a book that I've been ignoring for a year... I suppose it was time to finish it." She laughed, and we laughed, but deep down, her words resonated with me. And maybe depressed me.

Mind you, this is a nearly 80-year-old woman who knew what life used to be without the internet and television. Even she has forgotten what it's like to live without either of them. 

I don't want to live like that, where I'm completely lost if I don't have my television or internet working. The arts have diminished over the last few decades because people aren't writing, reading, painting, sewing, sculpting, playing an instrument, composing music, and myriad of other artistic and creative endeavors. 

We're "influencers" and observers of the arts, rather than partakers, and now we have AI to take care of all of those arts we once knew how to do. (AI, I am not a fan of you in any way.) But, when we take creative liberties and shift away from television or the internet, we are foregoing a life that advertises, entices, and dictates how we're to live; one that forces me to conform.

In reality, we choose our lives. We can live without dependence on the internet, but still use it when we need it. We can live without the television, only watching when we've done the rest of our artistic activities. We can strike a balance by bringing in activities that don't require either of those devices for most of our lives, leaving the internet and television as last resorts.

A life chosen or one chosen for you?

You get to decide.

Memories of the Hound

The thing about owning a dog, a dog you love, is that when they leave, unless you get another one, you never quite recover from it.

It's been a year and a half since my dog of nearly 14 years left us to go to the great doggie daycare in the sky. I think of her the most during the 4th of July because that date, as well as New Year's Eve, was the worst for her. Fireworks were not her friend. 

For those who haven't owned a dog they love, I'm sorry. You're missing out on an irreplaceable feeling. It's powerful. And at times, it's too powerful. It's a feeling I wish could be replaced.

I'm in a much better place now than when she first left, but just like with people whom we love that die, you don't stop missing them because time has passed. Sure, feelings fade, memories fade, but that love - that deep, inner soul-taking love you have - will always be there.

And that's where I'm at these days. I miss her, but I'm okay.

My life looks different, not having to clean and care for her, and there's freedom in that. But her love for me is gone. I don't have to take her to the vet, and calm her nerves at all the smells and sounds, but I would trade that stress to have her back.

This recent Fourth of July was only the second since losing her that I haven't had to cower with her as the fireworks take over the neighborhood. It was always an all-night battle of dealing with her fright. It felt traumatic to both her and me. This holiday was always under a cloud of worry because of the immense fear she dealt with in the war-like sounds that pervaded the neighborhood.

I don't have to worry about that anymore. 

It took me five months to clean off her doggy drool on one particular part of our floor. This was where she would stand with her evening treat and drool, not wanting to eat it too quickly, yet still holding it in her mouth. I cleaned up that drool every day when she was alive, and complained about it. Because that's what we humans do. But after she left, I didn't want to change it; it felt like she was here as long as that drool was there. So I left it for a while. 

It took six months for me to clean the nose prints off the sliding glass door, too.

Memories of my dog are everywhere, all the time, and I can't tell you how overjoyed I am at getting to pet neighbors' dogs, family dogs, friends' dogs, and random dogs out of nowhere. 

I got to visit with a beautiful golden retriever just a few days ago, on the 4th, named Peaches. She was beautiful, old, happy, and smelled just like my golden doodle. She was heaven-sent. All I could think about when petting her was how wonderful it felt to hug her, and then, "Would she sleep tonight?"

Maybe one day I'll get a new dog. But, a part of me doesn't want to forget what I had with my dog. People say to get a new one, and yet, that doesn't bring back my old dog. It's like having a friend die and someone saying, "All you have to do is find a new friend." Well, yeah. But I want the old one back.

I'm glad to have the memories, though. My love for her and her love for me is a beautiful memory. And now, I kinda wish we still had nose prints on the window. 

If you have a pup or friend, or a family member you love, make sure you tell them. Document everything. Write things down. Take lots of photos.

Nothing is forever, but that love in our heart sure is.

Let Being in Limbo Be Your Place

Last week, I boarded a jet plane to visit my youngest son, who lives in Charleston. That's a whole lot of miles away from where I live in Northern California, but when your son moves, you go visit him!

Charleston is a gorgeous city, chock-full of history and beautiful homes, with a slow living way of life that oozes from the brick walkways and overflowing planter boxes.

Before I left on this weekend trip, I was in a routine of writing in the morning and doing the rest of the day's to-do list after it. It was a perfect flow. I'm always the sharpest in the morning; the words seep out of my mind onto the keyboard without really trying.

I think it's because my brain has rested (but also worked like a zealot in dreamland), and the vocabulary and subject matter and formed sentences all cohere nicely into paragraph after paragraph. It's rather magical. But by the afternoon trickles in - maybe even late morning - that enchantment is gone. Evaporated.

I’ve been home for over a week and haven't been able to get back into my morning writing routine. I'm in writers' limbo of wanting to write, but not being able to do it the way I need to do it to be productive. And I'm slowly realizing that I'm just going to have to be comfortable with being in limbo, get over my "perfect" writing conditions, and write when I can. 

I'm also realizing that getting comfortable with being in limbo applies to every part of my life.

I don't like flying. It's not the flying per se, but the falling if the aircraft were to stop flying. I hate the thought of falling, and yet, if I don't fly, I don't get to visit my son, go on vacations, or live life. So, I'm going to have to live in that limbo of fearing flying but accepting I have to do it for the rest of my life. Limbo  

I don't like that my son is now living 3000 miles away from me. But that is completely out of my control. I will be in limbo regarding his distance for as long as I'm away from him. I love where I live, we aren't moving right now, and I know he loves where he's living right, so I'm just going to have to learn to be in limbo about that familial scenario indefinitely.

I'm a huge introvert, but I do so love a good party and will always feel left out if I'm not invited... even if I don't want to go. I want to be included, but until I get to the point where I don't need it, it'll always be an issue for me. So, I have to just accept being an introvert, and going to the party when I'm invited (even if I don't want to go), and be okay if I don't get the invite. Limbo.

We all live in limbo in many areas of our lives. Family relationships (having them or not having them), friendships - the lack of some, the disappearance of others, the keeping of ones we truly value. There is this give and pull, and balance of going after what we want but not chasing that which is no longer ours, or is no longer deserving of the attention we want to give it. It's a frustrating cycle. 

But, it's a limbo that we live with. We can't control what others do, only how we react to those actions. That's a huge limbo. And one I daily deal with.

I'll never solve my health issues totally and completely, and I'm learning that this, too, is okay. My auto-immune disease is at bay, but I'll never really know why I got it. That stupid ringing in my ears? I'll never know why I contracted tinnitus out of thin air. But the fear of it never going away doesn't bother me anymore. I've learned to accept my condition, lean into it actually, and adjust my life to my new normal. 

Living in limbo. I guess it's the "in" thing for now, or at least, that's what I'm telling myself.  And getting comfortable with being in limbo is both a worthy goal and a fine place to live. Once we choose contentment with how things are (not what we want), even if we're not huge fans of it (I'll never like flying, and I really wish my son lived closer like he used to), we realize being in limbo makes us feel alive. 

I can't feel pleasure without knowing pain. I can't know love when I’ve never known the absence of it. I can't know insecurity if I’ve only lived in security. But, once I’m comfortable with not having things simple, to accept the chaotic limbo life is, it becomes much easier to live a happy life. 

I now think of all this limbo-living as an education. And guess what? As I'm slowly discovering, the water's just fine.

 I guess I better get writing.

-Heather

Less or Fewer │ Mastering Language

Does it matter if you say less or fewer? According to the media, it doesn't.

The grammarian nerd in me is coming out strong these days.

Anyone else notice how people are using the word "less" more frequently when they should be using the word "fewer?" I suppose this sounds super snooty. I mean, who cares, right? We know what they mean.

Except that journalists who write news copy for the news say this. And advertisements everywhere, from radio to television, now say this. 

I understand the reason for it. I wrote social media content for almost two years, and there's a certain flow the writer needs to use to grab the audience. If you're using the word "less" repetitively, but then change one of them to "fewer," well, that just doesn't sound as good.

Except that it's wrong and it bothers me. I can't unhear it. 

My husband and I are constantly talking over the commercials or the evening news, yelling out "fewer!" while we set the table or cook dinner. It's comical how often it occurs.

Take an ad for a car company trying to sell you their overpriced vehicle. The voice over guy or gal will say something in that ad to the effect of, "less worry, less cost, less repairs (should be fewer), and less wear and tear," etc.

But, doesn't it just flow better if you say less as the adjective? Wouldn't it work just as well? In fact, it does work well. The argument is to keep the verbal momentum going and use the same word!

Apparently, after researching this, there's a lot of debate over when to use less or fewer, even though I'd learned, as a kid, that less is used for things that can be counted and fewer for things that are measured. Who knew?

I like what Merriam-Webster has to say about this: There's a commonly repeated rule about fewer and less. It goes like this: fewer is used to refer to number among things that are counted, as in "fewer choices" and "fewer problems"; less is used to refer to quantity or amount among things that are measured, as in "less time" and "less effort."

This is worded correctly! (Thanks, Joshua.)

But, as with all things, there are variations and colloquialisms to factor in. Our vernacular changes over the decades and centuries. Our language never stays wholly the same.

If you're interested in learning more about this riveting debate and the history behind these two competing words, brush up on your lexicology and dive deep into a Wikipedia article about it. (I started reading it and then my eyes started to cross, so I stopped ...)

Less or fewer. To be or not to be. Use what you want, we know what you mean. But as someone who was taught differently (and can't unhear it), I'm keeping my nerdish ways and using fewer or less as I should.

Side note: I still think the media overuses the word "impact." I wrote about this seven years ago. Today? It's worse than ever.

So, here's my take: Use less less, and use fewer more, just like we used to do back in "the good ol' days."

-Heather 

Slow Living is a Battle

Having been living a "slow living" life intentionally for years, there's something about living this unique life (a slow one) amidst this culture (a fast one) that forces me to course-correct fairly regularly.

The basics of slow living, like wearing second-hand clothing, or cooking and baking at home, reading, and taking walks as hobbies, are still there. My basic needs are fulfilled in a way that supports the slow life mentality. And I love it.

But I'm talking about my other everyday activities. If I'm not cognizant of the time I'm devoting to them, my intent will change. Slowly, without knowing it, I will revert to my old way of living, which consisted of cramming as much as I could into a day and doing far more than I needed to.

What causes this? 

I suppose it's because I'm living a slow life in a very busy world. I'm not "off the grid," so to speak. I live in a suburb in a cookie-cutter house. I'm not on ten acres. I can walk to the grocery store, a half mile from my house, rather than grow my food or milk the cow, and gather my chickens' eggs. I'm thoroughly trying to live a slow life in a fast community.

So that will always be challenging for me.

The slow lifestyle I've tried to carve out for myself and my family has the potential to be invaded, overrun, and occupied any time I give it a foothold. All I have to do is step outside and see the latest home improvement project on my neighbor's home to get me to think, "Do we need to do something to our house?"

Take empty-nesting, for instance. My first thought, when my last boy left the coop, was "Hey, now I can devote even more time to doing what I love." Yes, absolutely. I can write more, read more, garden more, heck, I can even devote more time to watching the leaves on my trees change color.

But this thought process has also made me want to do more things I don't need to do.

I've been doing yoga regularly for years, over eleven years, taking classes right down the street from me. As we age, our flexibility decreases as much as our strength, so it's important to strength train as much as we stretch. They work together.

But too much can also cause problems. I got a little gung-ho recently and began stetching way more than I needed to - stretching every day at home, adding more yoga classes - and now, I have a pulled hamstring. This means I have to stop yoga just to repair my pulled muscle. 

What I thought would be a good thing (doing more of what I love is always good, right?) ended up forcing me to not only slow down, but stop. I also picked up running again after taking a little hiatus from it. Which is fantastic! Except that I can't run now because I'm in too much pain.

What I thought would enhance my life, by adding more of it, only ended up hurting me. So there is a form of moderation that I had to bring back into my life. This doesn't mean I can't stretch, run, or keep those extra classes I added, but maybe if I had added less activity to my open schedule, it wouldn't have meant giving up what I loved. 

My takeaway: Just because my schedule is more open doesn't mean I need to overfill it. 

I don't need another job; my two jobs are fulfilling me perfectly. I don't need to add to my online vintage store because I have more time to source vintage clothing; I need to stick with my plan for a smaller shop with better items. 

I don't need another social media app because I have more time, and I don't need a new sport (although, much to my husband's happiness, I'm working on my few golf skills). I only need to keep doing what I'm doing without adding more to my schedule, all because I feel like I need to fill the time. This is a minimalist approach, but it's fair to say, even if I don't like it, this works best for me.

I can be happy with what I currently have and not feel like I'm missing out.

There is a Facebook profile I follow, and her art is a great reminder of what I want to keep my focus on throughout the day, in visual form. Look at this:

These are the things I should be focusing on. More time working the soil, laboring in the kitchen, and writing that story. Yoga class will always be there, but I need to remember that I can still be great at yoga without having to hurt myself.

That book will get written, that torn muscle will be repaired, and I will accomplish what I'm supposed to accomplish, but it's okay to do less, at a slower pace.

The next two weeks are about to be very un-slow. My oldest son is getting married, so needless to say, there will be a lot happening.

But, I can still center myself amidst the chaos with a good cup of coffee, a ten-minute break with a fun book, or a half-hour walk to burn off the stress I know is coming.

Slow living is a battle in our fast-paced world, but with some thought and proactive measures (don't be like me and force proximal hamstring tendinopathy from overdoing a good thing), it can take root and thrive no matter your surroundings.