My name is Holly, and I am a minimalist.

Just kidding.

I DID read three books on minimalism this summer though, and I think that means something. 😜 I bought in, completely. Life isn’t about stuff! I don’t need more storage bins and closets, I just need less stuff! I got super inspired and started going through a lot of things that we don’t use and don’t need anymore.

I got AI-ed.

Is that a verb? I think it may need to become one, at least in this case.

Remember this post?

Delusional or not, I decided to go for it. Seriously, I got AI-ed. The designs that Chat offered were too good, too appealing, too tempting. Let’s goooooooo!

We moved to Texas in the beginning of 2011. January 1, to be exact. There were some monumental things that happened in those first few months.

My life is peppered with mistakes—let’s call them learning opportunities. That sounds better than I did another idiotic thing. But sometimes those lessons need to be shared. You should be warned.

Let’s go.

For someone who really dislikes rabbits, I find myself going down rabbit holes quite often.

It usually ends badly.

I am an overcorrector.

I over adjust.

I exaggerate the correction.

I’ve been on a sabbatical.

Five years ago, I was feeling “off”. More tired than usual, having nightsweats, and struggling to remember even simple things I was supposed to do. I decided to go to the doctor and see if something was wrong.

My 12-year old son plays baseball.

His team is not good. He isn’t very skilled, and yet he really enjoys playing with the other boys on his team. Go figure. There was a game on Wednesday, and he started as pitcher. It was rough. ROUGH. I felt so badly for him, and was praying things would improve.

Can you make a pan of cinnamon rolls for Sunday?”

I held the phone to my ear, a bit shocked. Why would they ask me? I had never made cinnamon rolls in my life! I didn’t remember my mom making them growing up—what chance did I have? It felt like my answer should be no.

I went skiing this week.

Some of my fondest memories, laughing-til-I-cried moments, heartbreaking situations, and terrifying times have come from skiing. It’s intense.

Last spring break, Brian and I went with our family to Utah for a ski vacation.

This week I was reminded how much I have always loved icicles.

Winters in Idaho are serious business. It is cold, and windy, and the snow is plentiful.

I was almost home from my daily walk, and looked over to see my neighbor on the ground, bleeding.

What on earth?

I never needed glasses.

I was the only one in my family growing up who didn’t have some kind of visual impairment, and I thought it was pretty great.

Just over eleven years ago, Julie asked for an Elf on the Shelf for her birthday.

It sounded like a benign request. A book and a little elf that came with it? How cute! I bought the gift naively, not realizing what I had actually done.

My name generates a lot of comments, especially this time of year. I get a few people questioning if my name is REALLY my name, comments about how Christmas-y my name is, and most people asking if I was born around Christmas.

Just yesterday I was asked (again!) if my birthday was at Christmastime.

A while ago, I was scrolling on my phone and I came across a video that has haunted me every since. The person said we are now spending so much time on social media that we have created memories of other peoples’ lives, instead of making our own.

A few years ago, one of my daughters got invited to a birthday party. It had all the usual information on it, but at the bottom there was an additional message:

“Make sure to wear green!”

I was surprised. Was this a birthday party or a football game?

After I took my daughter back to college, I flew home to Texas. The flight landed late at night, and Brian was still in surgery, so I waited at the airport until he could finish and pick me up.

The air outside was still hot and heavy with humidity, so I decided to wait inside.

If you know me, you may think one of my strengths is communication. Honesty comes naturally, and my approach is direct.

Yes and no.

My mom hated me.

I was absolutely convinced. My older sister had long, dark brown, beautiful hair, and I did not. I was so jealous of her hair. Our bathroom drawer held leather hair wraps, like the ones the Native Americans in my small hometown wore. I loved those things! I loved the smell of the leather and the softness of the straps. I pretended my hair was long, long enough to braid and cover with those beloved hair wraps.