Drawing Pets as ACNH Villagers

Remember last year when I said I was going to create art consistently, starting with a study of Van Gogh? Oh good, me either. 😅 But in all seriousness, I am committed to making art this year. I miss it. These are three pet portraits I did of Midnight, Sully, and Mia, a few weeks ago in oil pastel.

I was inspired by Rachel Maksy to do this and spark a bit more joy in my life – and it did more than that! It helped me process grief too. I lost Midnight, over 15 years ago and Sully, just last August. Picturing them, hanging with my villager character, on this imaginary ACNH island, is a comforting little story.

For Midnight, I was inspired by Mira, for her spunky personality and fearlessness. I decided to change Midnight’s outfit to a clover dress from game, since loved clover the most of any treats!

Although Sully was Yorkie-Bichon mix, the dog and wolf characters are draw quite differently than what he looked like. Gonzo the koala in a perfectly Sully-looking sweater was just the ticket to capture Sully’s teddy bear essence.

Finally Mia was easy to pinpoint, Dottie looks like a Dutch rabbit which is similar to Mia’s harlequin color pattern. Since Mia loves baseball, dressing her in a baseball jersey seemed right.

I hope this brings you a little joy today. Wherever you are I hope you know you are special and deserving of love.

#81 – Ten is My Magnum Opus

Commitment is scary. It feels like a box that closes around you. My mind wanders to all the negative possibilities. Will I become stagnant? Will I fail? Will I regret this? Commitment is not a bad thing, though; it is a fundamental to our relationships, to building character, and completing goals. Finishing any project, big or small, such as painting a wall or completing a degree, requires commitment. Being there for a friend. Adopting a pet. Planting a garden. Buying a house. Getting married.

The last one fills us as humans, living in the 21st century, with the most trepidation. I think because of how obligatory marriage can become in our human cultures. What is a Jane Austen novel without commentary on the role of marriage in 19th-century England? Women can see it as a burden, a life goal, or a way to survive. It is complex for all people – he, she, they to enter into a legally binding commitment built on the hope that this love we are choosing to pursue until we die, will not fail and consume us both.

As I have mentioned before, my parents got divorced when I was little. It was finalized when I was two, actually, so beyond a PTSD memory that is hard to dwell on, I don’t remember life before my parents divorced. My memory and examples of marriage in my life come from my grandparents and my mom, who married my wonderful stepdad (more like true dad) when I was 16. Without these two positive examples, I’m not certain marriage would have happened for me. It’s hard to understand, unless you experienced it, but living in the aftermath of your parents’ failed marriage shapes your opinion of marriage from a young age.

You are the living proof of failure, and are looked on with pity and dismay from many church people and people in your community. You are the weirdo. People want to “help” experience the normalcy of two parents, as if there is something wrong with the family that you have. I had three parents instead of two, and it felt normal to me. I learned about love, of all kinds – storage and agape, aka “affection” and “unconditional love.”

I think these loves are even more important to grasp as an impressionable youth than fixating on the hope of romantic love someday, because what brings you through marriage is all four loves – charity, agape, philia (friendship), and eros (romantic). Because marriage is built on vows, and keeping those vows is wonderfully challenging some days, but keeping them and not giving up has led to this exciting milestone – our tenth anniversary!

Growing up, knowing that marriage can and will fail for a lot of people, no matter how much you fight for it, scared the crap out of me, staring down the aisle. I didn’t want to fail, like a destiny I couldn’t shake. My parents’ divorce was not a curse to inherit, nor was it Kyle’s to inherit from his parents’ divorce, yet succeeding felt like the highest mountain I would ever climb, and honestly, I do feel that way today. So many things have changed in my life in the past ten years – jobs, friends, locations, family, pets – it’s been a roller coaster, and yet, here we are. We didn’t let the bad times get the best of us – the economy, the pandemic, job loss, grief, and hubris – we figured out how to navigate the things that scared us without ripping the seams to tatters.

What I thought would be the way through this would be never approaching that line, but life actually pushes you to the brink quite often. I think we, as humans, focus so much on perfection that we forget that even when you let your spouse down, you can dust yourself off and recalibrate. Even your worst moments don’t have to break you. Holding on to the highest highs, the wins, is important too. It’s a journey that you walk with your spouse towards the goal. It’s a sanctification process that will break you down with certainty, but I feel refined by the wisdom and the struggle, and the wins.

The bottom may come as close as you can imagine to dropping out, but your fears are not a prophecy for your life. Good things are not there to slip away from you; they are the victories. And so this exciting anniversary feels like a victory over all the voices in my head telling me to give up when things got hard, and to not enjoy the good moments in case something bad would happen. Yeah, good and bad have happened, and will continue to happen, but what Kyle and I are building, this commitment to be there for each other for every step of the journey, is a balm to the soul in these uncertain times. So I encourage you, in these heavy days, to plant your garden.

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce… Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” 

Jeremiah 29: 4-5, 7 NIV

The Brilliance of Dress Up and Styling Games

Something I didn’t expect when I began playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons was how much it would evoke memories of playing dress-up and room styling flash games as a kid. Specifically, the Lizzie McGuire, My Scene, and Fashion Polly games. Although early ACNH gameplay surrounds building an island community and infrastructure, the longer you spend on your island, the more you decorate. Either the island itself, your house, islander houses, vacation homes, or, recently, hotel rooms. Styling your character gets a lot of in-game attention, too, from the hair and eye customization upgrades from Nook Miles, or the daily offerings from Able Sisters – you are motivated to play dress up. Sometimes, receiving Nook Miles for the simple act of changing your outfit. That is perfectly fine with me!

Moving away from flash games of my tweens, and into reading fashion magazines in my teens and 20s, it wasn’t as fun just looking at the fashion – I wanted to experiment. Which, I think, translates to a lot of us as shopping, because playing games is seen as childish. Since playing ACNH, I have found a new outlet to express the creative itch that has helped me explore my own personal style without playing into the shopping addiction that the current culture is infected with. Not to say I am immune, throughout college and too far into my adult life, I was stuck in a cycle of emotional spending and trend chasing. Most of the jobs I had were terrible, and that fed into the idea of treating myself as a trade-off. Not wise, nor was it satisfying.

Looking back on that time, playing around with different outfits and designing rooms, like I used to as a tween, was what I was looking for. Something to clear my head or try new things, without hauling new items or overhauling my living spaces. I think renting fed into this need to design a space that felt like me. I missed the customization of my childhood bedroom, in shades of purple with a wall of curated fashion ads pulled from Vogue, W, and Harper’s Bazaar. Although thankful for a roof over my head, those cookie-cutter rentals of beige and white feel soulless on purpose; they are not designed to have design.

Before ACNH was released in 2020, there was The Sims 4, which I played at the end of the 2010s and sort of satisfied my design game wishes. House building and customization were by far my favorite parts of gameplay. The clothing options were okay, sometimes a bit stifling because you dressed your sim for occasions and not simply to change the outfit. But my main gripe with The Sims 4 is the paywall DLC. How many gamepacks do you need to make it worth it? And how much money must you spend to get the full experience? It’s quite frustrating to get minimal variety from the base game, which you pay for just to spend money again and again to expand the catalog of clothing, hair, furniture, etc. It’s ridiculous!

Although ACNH costs 60 USD, you get a vast catalog of items, with one DLC game expansion – Happy Home Paradise for 20 USD. Some features are behind a Nintendo Online Membership, like Dreaming, Zelda items, Hello Kitty items, Nintendo throwback games, and Amibos, but nothing compared to The Sims 4. The game can be played daily without these elements and not feel like your catalog is incomplete, in my opinion.

The clothing catalog from ACNH is vast, with clothing for all seasons, from various cultures, and for specific occasions like professions or holiday offerings. When the shopping bug is eating at me, I like going on the game and buying a new outfit from Able Sisters with the imaginary currency of Bells. Even the act of dressing my house up or my character in a gameplay session can clear my head from wanting new things. The game provides that space to create and change it up that my mind desires, but keeps it to the sandbox. And isn’t that the point of most impulse purchases? We are chasing the feeling of new, so why spend real-life resources to consume endlessly? Just play a game.

What about curating your wardrobe or trying a new aesthetic? ACNH thrives on a perfectly curated aesthetic! The game literally awards you points each week, for the design level of your home. What I think has helped me the most, though, to push out the intrusive, trendy thoughts and find my style, is building a capsule wardrobe for my character and then changing it up. When I am feeling stuck in a design rut, I can explore outfits and a specific style through the game.

As you can see from these images of my character and her current wardrobe, I’ve been in a more casual mood in the game and in real life lately. I’ve been wearing casual separates, but that might be because my character had the outfits first. When I was in my dress phase, my character wore fancy, frilly dresses.

Is the clothing groundbreaking? No, but it’s darling. Look at that froggy tee! You can play around with different styles, such as these three outfits below. From left to right – Addams Family, Red Velvet’s Cosmic music video, and trying a style from another culture. That is one of my favorite parts of the game, getting the chance to style clothing from around the world in the context of my ACNH character.

Finally, ACNH has one specific style contribution to my wardrobe – hats, shoes, and bags. This game has retrained my brain to accessorize. Sometimes I clash with an unexpected combo – and I have learned the art of doing that before I buy or create in real life. I always have a hat when I leave the house. I never used to do that. Look at this inspiration, though! My outfits on Honeycrisp and in real life feel incomplete without the eclectic bag, statement hat, and an interesting pair of shoes.

So if you are feeling stuck in your style or struggling with overconsumption, may I suggest playing a game?

Maybe Fiction Isn’t the Best Way to Express the Art?

With a new year comes new goals, like should I get organized and make this the year I return to writing as my full-time focus? I’ve been mulling over this for the past six months. I started watching more book-focused media and picked up physical books again, all in the quest to jump back into fiction writing after a one-time try in 2017 – also known as Udal Cuain. It was the ultimate escape during a time when every part of my life was falling apart, and we were struggling. My family was struggling; it was isolating, but instead, I crafted a world that I could escape into. I couldn’t afford therapy, so I wrote about what was on my mind. And it helped. It felt like a high I had never experienced before, but then it stopped helping. Life got a lot more complicated, but also better, more on track, and I walked away from it. Then I lost the draft for 6 years until I found it last January.

Life has been messy again, and the world feels like it is literally on fire, and I can feel the pull to want a coping mechanism.

This is where our story begins.

As I share often on this blog, I have become a sewist and fiber artist. I began this journey to a career pivot after a layoff in 2020, and it has become my whole world, particularly knitting and crochet. I find the more I dive into the craft of yarn, the more I feel creative release and the ability to tell stories with my stitches. You can even protest with it. I have been a visual artist my whole life, the frequency depending on how many notebooks, pencils, or paints I have access to. It is my first love. So where does writing fit in?

I was always a writer who enjoyed essays. I like writing about something, researching the subject, and I adore historical research. I enjoyed poetry in school, but my affection for literature came much later. Mainly by force, if you want to take AP English, you must read this many books over the summer. I’m still not the most passionate reader, I definitely take breaks between reading sprints, and sometimes I won’t pick up a book for months, because my hands are always busy with a project. This has put my desire to write another novel, a more polished one, in conflict with my life and potentially my calling.

This week, I sat down to brainstorm another round of novel ideas. This is my third or fourth round of this since 2023. Every time, I think of some good options, narrow my list down, start plotting, and hit a wall. My heart is not in it. I don’t see the characters or care to take my time to meet them. I want to get on with it and then analyze the deeper meaning. The other thing that happens regularly is that I freeze, and I think about how the world has changed since 2017 – mainly BookTok.

I don’t read Romantasy, I’m not going to write spice because that’s not my interest. Don’t look to me for trauma or disturbing plot lines; I don’t want to write that. I am white, cis, and straight, so will I offend by not having representation? I also don’t have the proper experience to offer diverse representation. I don’t know what I have to say in a book, like in a bigger picture – I don’t know what the deeper meaning is that I am looking to point to that I couldn’t just write about in an essay or create with visual or fiber art. This is where the title should start making sense. I don’t think worldbuilding and dialogue are my paint and canvas, and I don’t think we spend enough time considering where our gifts are best suited right now because of social media content.

We are so concerned with getting our work plugged into the algorithm, jumping on trends, cross-posting, and getting successful that we aren’t considering if the medium is best for our art. We are trying to fit in, and that’s killing creativity and the editing eye to know that’s not for me. I feel like it is obvious now, since reflecting on why I have writer’s block, but taking the time to look objectively feels so hard to do when we are fighting the AI monster. But it is okay to specialize. It is okay to find your niche and not appeal to everyone. It is better to work within your wheelhouse and say something authentically you and express it in a medium that feels true to yourself than worry about keeping up with others.

Maybe the best thing we can do as creative people is edit and focus on where we feel the most alive. I feel the most alive planning a personal knitting project that features motifs that represent my life and my loves. I love blogging and talking about serious things, not in literary techniques but in societal critique. I spent the day today, sketching and drafting pet portraits, and I am the most relaxed I have been in months. It’s the same high I felt writing Udal Cuain. I didn’t feel that way while brainstorming a novel. I felt nervous. So I don’t think it’s for me anymore.

Have you ever fallen into this trap? How did you find your way out? Thanks for spending time with me today. Until next time. Stay safe out there and know you are loved.

Why I Quit the Clique and Cliche of Twenty One Pilots

So it’s 2026, and if you’re online, there is a good chance you have seen the 2026 to 2016 posts. The nostalgia for 2016 is real, even making me look at one of the most volatile years of my life through rose-colored glasses. But even though the 2010s were full of change for me, beginning with my junior year of high school, and ending with 2019, globally leading us into the pandemic. How weird is that? I got my license, my high school diploma, traveled to Europe, graduated from college, got married, moved out, had my first job (more like jobs), tried to have a career, reunited with my dad, met my siblings, moved out of state, wrote a novel, and lost several loved ones in 2016. My family fractured – it was so much personal change! But even so, I miss the optimism of the hipster era. I miss the simplicity of the pre-AI era and the pre-social media domination of our world. We were less logged in, less screen addicted. I’ve been drawn to watching Portlandia again, yearning for a coffee shop to spend the day in while listening to indie music, a simpler time. This week, I’ve found myself walking down memory lane in the form of 2010’s alternative music. Bands I haven’t thought of for a decade – The Joy Formidable, Phantogram, Joywave, Bear Hands, Sir Sly, etc. But one band, I determined in this holiday, into nostalgia I will not listen to again, even though they were a band I loved in the 2010s – Twenty One Pilots.

This is a bit of an oddball post. I haven’t listened to Twenty One Pilots since 2018, but for a three-year stretch, they were my favorite band. I collected merch, CDs, and ate up the lore. The para-social relationship was built on mental health struggles, faith, and being “quirky” felt comfortable. I mean, this was the mid-2010s and the height of the “not like other girls” trope. I relished in the alternative feel of their music, what I now understand to be noise music, and the darkness I felt in my own life craved the outlet to plug into. Josh understood my shyness, and Tyler understood the anxiety and depression I was feeling at the time. It felt safe because they were “Christians” and their music had “biblical references,” but they were also questioning everything and challenging the void. I didn’t see at the time how much un-aliving yourself idealization there was in the nihilistic moments of their music. The more I listened to their music, the more depressed I felt, and that is where I began to wake out of the dream I was walking in. I haven’t seen them or their music the same way since.

I think right now, with all the ways Christianity is being watered down, misused for political manipulation, and trampled upon by religious fundamentalists, I don’t want to listen to a band that is “somewhat Christian” again. That is not an estimation of their music either; that is what I found when I looked at the TOP subreddit today. That sentiment reminded me of what turned me off the most from their music, Tyler’s waffling. Or should I say deconstructing? That was another discussion I found on the subreddit. Now it is only fair to discuss this, with my own struggles out in the open. There were some things that came to light in recent months about someone I know, who is a pastor, which contradict the Bible, and it made me furious. Combine that with the DHS sharing misquoted scripture to claim their racism and violence as a “holy” thing turned me into this character.

What has my spiritual life been like in 2025 and now in 2026? Clinging to who I know God is in the midst of all these evil, power-hungry syncophants. Have I been reading my Bible daily? No, I have been a slacker. Have I been praying consistently? Yes, more than I have been reading my Bible. Have I been avoiding Christian culture? Yes. Where have I found myself gravitating towards? People who are acting out their faith and non-believers acting in ways that mirror what the Bible calls us to do. Never in this muck and mire have I wanted to imagine a world without God. If anything, it has made me crave God’s presence in this world with more frequency. It has to be a real connection. Faith is not a feeling, and it is not something you choose one day and rip apart the next. It calls for trust and for submission to align every part of your life under what you believe in. Faith is telos. Faith does not exist in a vacuum, nor do our relationships. Some days, having faith in good triumphing over evil feels like an extremely radical thing. There is no space for indecision.

Now, Tyler is allowed to feel and think what he wants, as long as he is not hurting anyone. I don’t care. But do I think he is a good example? No. There is an immaturity to his faith. A fence sitting that is only hurting him. As Earl Smooter says in Sweet Home Alabama, “You can’t ride two horses with one ass, sugarbean.” My need for conciseness and clarity is, for sure, part of my neurodivergence. I like it when people communicate directly. Honestly. I prefer the path laid out by another favorite artist.

I give life to my words
(Yeah, I’m doing what I say)
I reach heights from the dirt
(Yeah, I’m doing what I say)
You know I bite the way I bark
(Yeah, I’m doing what I say)
(Doing what I say, doing what I say)

Creed by Stray Kids

Decision matters. Being aligned with what you believe in, in every aspect of your life, which takes being truly honest with yourself, will bring mental peace. Mental peace was something I never personally felt from their music. I could feel the overthinking, tearing at the seams, the complete drifting in the current. It could be dressed up with lore or cringing lyrics, but the identity was never solid. Taking time away from their music gave me such relief. Ironically, my time of being part of the Clique was followed by a period of listening to mostly worship music for a few years before landing in K-pop. I think I personally matured out of the place where the Clique remains, waiting for identity. Where their leader remains. I think it is easier to not confront ourselves than it is, to have these times of personal crossexamination. But I think it’s a poor witness for your faith to never pick a side. How can something so integral to your life, your worldview, be left with unresolved doubt? What a loose end.

Deconstruct with integrity. Affirm your faith with integrity. I’m all in favor of confronting the church for its cowardice over injustice in America. Jesus showed us how. So did his servant Paul. But to leave it as a vague, Blurryface, is immature thinking. Through my research for this post, my searches for a clear answer about Tyler’s faith left me with more questions. Like a politician, it is vague and hard to define. Answers offered were that he can’t put it into words, he is wrestling, still defining, or can’t put it into words. What? More digging led to answers outlining TOP’s music as his way of communicating his search for understanding. To explore doubt by supposing a world without God – well, that’s why I found their music so dark! I am actively shaking my head. Again, there needs to be more maturity in songwriting, creative writing, philosophy – something to explore these themes with more nuance. I am just not impressed. Especially when you contrast Tyler’s exposition of his faith and the world we are living in, to the faith journeys of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. In summation, I find the faith and doubt of TOP to be cliché and played out. Go deeper. Tell us what you believe in, like fans have requested, concerning the genocide in Gaza.

Now, TOP fans, this is my opinion, and everyone is entitled to their own opinion. None of this was written as an attack on you or your favorite group, just my honest reflection on a time of my life where Twenty One Pilots spoke to me. I’d say really the only part of this “lore” I’ve listened to is these four albums – Twenty One Pilots (2009), Vessel (2013), which was my favorite, Blurryface (2015 the album I started with, and Trench (2018), which I disliked so much I sold my concert tickets and donated my merch. You, Clique, have popularity on your side. I know I am in the minority, but I’m also in the minority of thinking Taylor Swift is a terrible songwriter, and that hasn’t stopped me.

What kind of music did you enjoy in the 2010s? Has your music taste changed? Thanks for spending time with me today, dear reader. Until next time ❤

Emotional Endurance, No Cap

What do you do when you need a break, but you can’t? I’ve been wrestling with this for months. It’s been a tricky thing to discuss on here, and without feeling ready to write without revealing too much, I have been spinning on it, to quote NMIXX.

Any time I feel overwhelmed, I take that space. But what if you can’t? Like what if the thing that is weighing on you is as interwoven in your life as a single thread in the warp and weft of your jeans? It’s a tricky one that I don’t think anyone has taught me; it’s just kinda hanging there. We struggle alone, because we are human.

Relationship University

I’ve been thinking alone, pondering my frustrations, my overwhelm, my weariness for a break because I am a neurodivergent, deep-feeling, overthinker. It does not come easy to me to pause, to force my mind to stop and breathe. It’s something I wish we had learned in school. Any of the schooling – elementary, high school, or college? How wonderful would it be to learn about emotional intelligence and algebra? Traumatic stress coping mechanisms and world history? What about grammar and proper communication tools to de-escalate a tense argument? Literally would be life-changing. Meditation with a side of physical education? We mostly played soccer(football) because it was cheap, and it was monotonous. Both Kyle and I would feel less we are drowning in the complications of personal struggles if we had an education in relationships.

We did the brief marriage counseling, sure, which I guess prepares you for marriage? I think getting through the first year is truly what teaches you the most. (We are a few months away from celebrating ten, so we do have some experience.) We also had the years of friendship experiences, some previous dating experiences, and the lifelong knowledge of being part of families – but they don’t prepare you for the stress that comes with multiple, personal struggles that you and your spouse sometimes have to tackle all at the same time, meanwhile life keeps moving forward, and you feel like a hamster in a wheel.

Burnt Out, Like Toast In Obsidian Crumbs

What I felt the most since these stressful situations began to weigh on Kyle and me was the desire to hit pause and process what I was feeling while the world held still. You know? Just a moment, where you could feel without the expectation to be who you are and do the things others depend on you for. Even the little things, you depend on yourself to do. Of course, that feeling grows to a desire to stop the world for days, and escape to a zone where the stressful things can’t bother you. A yearning for the before and a hunger for the after, this is all resolved and back to normal. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in the big emotions of personal things that you forget to have fun together. You forget to just be yourself. It’s a bizarre version of your life that doesn’t feel familiar, and I think after months of feeling like this, 2025 ended with me feeling chewed up and angry.

So why do we pretend like this is a normal state of being a responsible adult? Like if I hadn’t decided to stop drinking alcohol in 2021, this season would have been months of riding out a buzz, ignoring my problems, and choosing unhealthy coping mechanisms. Subbing in a source of temporary joy, depending on a thing or a feeling to get you through, is avoiding the inevitable mess that upset you in the first place. But I think this is the box we put ourselves in as adults, to stop from appearing weak or vulnerable. Substitute a drink for a shopping haul, sports betting, s*x, doom scrolling – what I’m talking about is far more common than we admit. So why do I feel so alone in this feeling?

It is still my present burden to bear, Kyle’s present burden to bear. Contrary to the calendar, your problems on Dec 31 are still there when you wake up on Jan 1. Doesn’t that suck? I felt myself wishing more than ever at the end of 2025 that the “fresh start” effect was real. Because life requires emotional endurance with no cap. That is quite difficult for us humans to do. It requires patience, hope, faith, self-control, gentleness, and love. We grow weary, we hide our struggles like they are something to be ashamed of, instead of a common part of life. We are odd creatures. That’s why I decided to share this, because I don’t think we discuss this enough, and I plan to talk about it more.

Marriage is hard, in more ways than I could even comprehend, but that doesn’t mean it is impossible. As we are both kids of divorce, we stubbornly refuse to address the stress that is negatively affecting our relationship because to do so feels like we are already failing, but that’s not true. So I’m writing this for you, the one who feels the weight of their parents’ divorce on all of their relationships, like a curse you are inevitably going to repeat. It’s not true. Keep going and stop bracing for the bottom to drop out, like I waste time waiting for. We are survivors, and we are going to make it through the mess.

More Reflections, A Year With a Bunny Part Two

One year ago, we adopted Mia from a local rabbit rescue. We knew life would change, but we didn’t consider how much we would change and grow from this experience. These are my reflections on how our little house bunny, Mia, has shaped us in our first year together.

Awareness

Today, I accidentally scared Mia. I came downstairs from working out, with music playing on my phone, distracted and not considering the little bunny, snoozing in a deep sleep. As soon as I looked up from my phone, I was highly aware of what my blissful ignorance hath wrought: ears standing tall, eyes wide, and body tense, ready to run at the slightest hint of danger. Before Mia, I was aware of what startled me, but with Mia and her own sensitive ears, it has challenged me to approach life with an even gentler touch. Today was a day I forgot, but with each passing month, these moments of unawareness are decreasing. Getting used to how aware Mia is of her surroundings was intimidating at first. I remember feeling on edge those first weeks, feeling like I was unable to relax – scared to scare Mia – a bit impossible of a standard!

I’ve learned to be quiet, internally and externally. The desire for quiet, for the little prey animal in our midst, has become a craving for quiet coming from a place inside me. What felt like a burden at first has become a blessing, because the awareness of the sound level, the peaceful environment I wish to create for Mia, has become a goal I desire for my own needs. The awareness of the quiet and the peace is something that I need, that Kyle needs. It’s healthier for us, but in this distracted and noise-polluted world, I don’t know if my awareness was going to attune to this again without Mia.

Structure

Mia has a schedule, possibly wearing a little watch somewhere under all that fur. She hops to her dinner spot around 5 pm, and waits for her breakfast starting at 8 am. She knows what time we should go to bed, with a precision I wish I could stick to. I’m not blessed with a sense of schedule. I tend to drift off course, but Mia is teaching me structure, and her needs are reminding me how comforting a schedule can be. Taking care of her is teaching me more about what I actually need to take care of myself in a healthier way. How is this little bunny so wise, so intuitive? The promise to care for her, every day, is a responsibility that I thought would feel heavy and burdensome, but instead, it is a way I have rediscovered purposeful living. I am grateful.

Letting Go

Detachment from physical things is the hardest lesson I’ve had to learn from living with Mia. Mia loves to chew my stuff. She has chewed holes in sentimental blankets, she has forever changed favorite pieces of furniture, and she will take a chunk out of newly made pieces fresh from my workroom. She doesn’t discriminate from store-bought items either – brand new overalls, my phone case, my Nalgene bottle. This has stressed me out. Mia has chewed the couch, a brand new coffee table hand-built by Kyle, the freshly painted baseboards, slippers, and I’m sure there will be more. I’ve gone through the stages of grief. I’ve had moments of intense frustration and questioning it all. But when I committed to adopting Mia, I told myself that I would remember that people are more important than things, and in this case, people and little furry members of the family.

The Floor is Great

I love sitting on the floor. I have always loved sitting on the floor; it grounds my mind – no pun intended. But dating and spending time at future in-law houses and not wanting to be weird, renting with worn wood floors, and moving into adulthood with busy schedules, changed my life from a cozy floor sitter to work chairs and collapsing into couches at the end of the day. Or sitting at my sewing table in a chair with bad posture. I stopped sitting on the floor. But with a rabbit, they like and need you to be on their level. I believe it is essential for bonding with your rabbit. At the beginning, it was hard. It felt unnatural after a decade of not being on the floor. The floor felt hard, unwelcoming. Even with carpet. But after a few months, I felt comfortable. My hips and back hurt less when I spend time on the floor. A year later, I am back to being a floor dweller. Without Mia, would I have ever gone back? I don’t know, but wow, my body feels more comfortable, younger even.

Slow Down, Be Present

The final thing that my rabbit soulmate has taught me this year is to be present and slow down. Mia is already four; she has an estimated lifespan of 12 years, which is not a lot of time when you really care about someone. I don’t want to miss any more moments with her. Kyle and I celebrated 9 years of marriage this year, 11 years together. Time feels like it is flying, and I want to be more present in my relationship with him. My mom and my stepdad are also getting older, and I want to be more present. Mia is teaching me that. Where I can, when I can make the choice to pause what I am doing to spend time with her, and I challenge myself to do so. That has been a challenge. I tend to hyperfixate on projects, which burn me out, but a difficult bad habit to break.

This year, I have created less, but I am feeling the balance being restored to my life. Without Mia hopping over to spend time with me, who knows if I would be shifting my perspective to a healthier state of mind? I can feel my mind and body feeling less stressed. Mia naps a lot, and that is another piece of the slowing-down puzzle that I am learning to accept without guilt. Rest is important. Rest is necessary. Slowing down is good for us. But we resist, because it’s tough to go against the grain. Rest is seen as lazy, even though our bodies and minds get burnt out. Living with Mia is helping me reset those misconceptions and take better care of myself.

Final Thoughts

I would 100% recommend adopting a rabbit if you have been thinking about it. Adopt any pet, actually, or volunteer at a local animal shelter. Do your research and get involved; it will change your life for the better. Animals are so calming. Mia has helped me open up again, in ways I thought I was closed off for good. It’s helped me understand my neurodivergence, my sensitivity, my trauma. She just gets me. She listens, she is there. She has become a best friend, and don’t we all need more of that in our lives? And what about Mia? Well, I’m honored that we got to provide her with her furever home. She has a big space to zoomie around, endless hay, and pets. She gets to watch TV, explore the couch, and have all her toys and treats to herself. She is the center of attention and trusts us. It’s amazing to know a prey animal trusts you. It challenges you to be the best person you can be.

Forest Creature Hat

Have you ever wanted to look like you emerged from a cozy video game? Maybe you’d like to wear a hat that reminds you of spooky season? Behold my new crochet adventure, not my first hat, but the second stitched together for this autumnal season.

This hat is inspired by the pointed witch hats, either sewn or made from yarn, that make an appearance in October, either in patterns that I see advertised or inspiration sources online. I didn’t want to make anything too witchy. I am not aiming to be a witch; I am looking for something fantastical. My hat is more of an allusion to the pointed, wide-brimmed headwear, while also aiming to be something a bit historical, rural, maybe hobbity in form.

The inspiration image I used for this project is a hat from Animal Crossing: New Horizons – the frugal hat. It is a subtle nod to a scarecrow, while it could belong in the wizarding world. I chose to crochet this project for the ability to sculpt the hat in a way that is freeform. I love how crochet lets you create without managing all the stitches on a needle; instead, I was able to switch from the hat portion to the bill with ease. I crocheted onto the side of the hat and used varying stitches of single crochet, double crochet, and granny stitch to add the frilly volume to the bottom.

Another reason I chose to crochet, over knitting this hat, was to provide the hat with more structure than knit stitches. Crochet stitches have more body to them. This was a scrap project, using leftover yarn from my first sweater dress, now a cardigan, made in 2023. Which was also scrap yarn, from a previous scrap yarn project – my cat ear beanie from 2024. As time passes, and I make more things, I love seeing how projects are connected through materials over time, because scrap yarn is kind of magical. It’s always worth it, in my opinion, to hold on to the extras for these random projects that call for just a little bit of yarn.

Finally, this hat project was inspired by one other seasonal topic, the state of my country. It just never stops right now….ahhhh!!!

Am I living in the 1950s? No, but dang was this what McCarthyism was like? I’m sick of the FBI telling Black Americans not to mourn Assata Shakur. Charlie Kirk is being touted as a martyr by MAGA and the primarily white church, tainting the message of the gospel with that Nationalist sham of a funeral, complete with Hitler-esque photos by the orange man. It’s getting ICY in a lot of places nationwide. So, I made a witch hat, because the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 and 1693 were not about witchcraft.

Instead, they were about religious extremism, sumptuary laws, xenophobia, and social tension. It was profitable to report your neighbor as a witch. You could gain financial and political power by reporting people who did nothing wrong. So I made a witch hat, because I am done with the injustices being played off as not that serious, and I am tired of our own political witch hunts. I feel helpless and angry all the time because of the Idiocracy. So I made a hat to try to do something creative with my feelings.

This forest creature hat, named by my sibling, was designed by me and created using worsted-weight acrylic yarn with a 5.5 mm crochet hook.

I Am My Own Crafting Worst Enemy

This is an unplanned part three of my “Drafting Shortalls From Scratch” because I did not succeed in making my overalls for winter. Although I have made shortalls twice this summer, a few silly, but very human mistakes, led to the project going awry. This is what I think went wrong:

  • Flew too close to the sun when tailoring
  • Planning < No Plan
  • Lack of Focus
  • Measure Once, Cuss Twice
  • I kinda hate sewing when it feels this hard
  • Putting too much pressure on myself
  • Not Buying Enough Fabric
  • Not Mocking Up
  • Not using my Patterns when I’m stuck
  • Research the Basics

It’s so easy to think we’ve got this and be too confident when going into a project. With knitting, this approach of fearlessness had led to some great projects, but with sewing, this artistic type of approach crashes and burns. Sewing is fabrication, as weird as that sounds. I think I was prepared to sew such complex tailoring projects, such as my shortalls, this summer, because I spent the spring building a screened-in porch with Kyle. Woodworking is very similar to sewing, I learned! It is about measuring, planning, creating things in a specific order, and constructing something that is built to last. When we started working on the porch, I never imagined how much it would teach me about garment construction. But it gave me a template to focus on. Who knew that woodworking would be such an inspirational experience for me?

So why am I sharing this? I am really struggling to accept that sewing is not coming easily to me; no matter how much I practice, it continues to challenge me. I’d like to invite you to join me in not giving up on those things in our lives that are hard.

Apathy and Fear – The Worst Cocktail

It drifts in, like a high pressure system. Clouds stratify, and all seems well. We don’t know that the pallid tone maybe the one that may drain the life from us, until we are as pale as a corpse.

Apathy. The silent assassin that numbs the senses to right and wrong. A comfortable sweater of indifference to our worries, we check out. But it doesn’t just numb us to what hurts us, it numbs us to all things, even joy. Disassociating will not make what is weighing on you better. Choosing to be a part of the background, to escape the foreground and its perils, is not going to rescue your mind from the monsters waging war. Because that is what apathy does, it makes you forget that you are making a choice not to care, and makes you feel like the world is victimizing you, when instead, this path you chose, yourself.

Fear. It’s powerful. It motivates us like nothing else, because no matter what is going right in our life, the looming fear of our mortality and of the inescapable henchman named pain will get us in the end. There is nothing that can change that. It eats at us, not knowing when the bad will come. Fear isolates. Fear keeps us closed off in suburbs. Fear drives a big SUV, that is 6 feet off the ground, in a tank that blocks from view the child you are about to run over. Fear, closes off communities from connection, to protect us from the unknown devil living next door. Paranoia holds us at arms length. The faces we see everyday, can’t be trusted. Fear will keep us safe. Fear is gerrymandering a map to neutralize the unknown, to grasp at the concept of control, before the phantom slips through our fingers. Fear censors history, because it is too weak to look at the failings of our ancestors.

I’ve seen fear and apathy take good people and turn them into feckless sycophants to the current guard. I’ve seen money and security divide us, when connection would save us. And now, I’ve witnessed first hand how easy people are swayed, and it sickens me, even a trusted friend can fall to its charisma. I’ve now seen first hand, the cleverness of fear and apathy to destroy compassion, moral truth, and justice for the chance to be saved. For the sake of the job. Comfort, instead of doing what is right. I always wondered why people in the past let dictators and evil groups turn their necks to ignore genocide and racism, but heck, even those you think are good, will trade it all for a coin. We are fallen, flawed humans, with a penchant for destruction, war, and hate. I don’t want to see another good one fall prey to the evil of the shadows, because they are in pain.

It’s ironic how we have been too arrogant in my culture to believe we could not fall as far as those of the past. We have progressed past those silly people of yore. Too long have ignored the power of an individualistic culture and problematic policies which seek to isolate, and haughtily believed would not get us one day.

Apathy and Fear. Don’t drink from their cup. We must cling to empathy, even on the days the weight of the world feels like it is going to break us in half. It wants to but it can’t because love conquers all things. Fear is a liar. It spends its time creating shadows that loom above, but will always disappear in the light. It’s not easy to care. But it is important that we stay the course in love, in empathy, and refuse let go of ethics. For without those, what do we have other than a mortal bag of bones and a never ending hamster wheel?

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