The Monstrous World of Seashells
It looks like a soft, harmless funnel, but there is no grace for the sea creature that gets too close.
It looks like a soft, harmless funnel, but there is no grace for the sea creature that gets too close.
I have written in countless birthday cards, “I don’t know where I would be without you.”
I wonder, not for the first time, how he hasn’t run out of stories to tell.
Added bonuses: a man confessing his love to an elevator, and the theme song is one of the cheesiest Christmas tunes of all time.
To perfectly capture the moment, the photo of my mom crossing the finish line includes me in the background, having lost the battle with my stomach and undoubtedly scarring fellow turkey-trotters for life.
October is an attack on the senses in the best way.
The question “Do you have a TikTok?” definitely sparks an interesting conversation.
When I walk through the blue door, now it feels like a home—my home.
The men greeted one group member by erupting “Herman the German!” when he walked in the door.
In the midst of all the learning and educating, listening and serving we are hopefully doing as a global community, I hope these podcasts bring your minds and hearts some rest and levity.
You get them their own nuggets one time and they start to expect things.
Every day now carries a different weight, new set of worries, and another chance to intentionally look for the good.
It feels so wrong to continue living normal life in the aftermath of a tragic storm.
I run down the dune to be closer to the water and it feels like I’m flying. I don’t think about climbing back up.
There’s a warm spot on the floor in front of the refrigerator—my favorite spot to think.
Best line: “A guest house, on a teacher’s salary?”
I mean honestly, I cried the entire eight-hour car ride to college (shout out to my parents who kept driving).
Thirteen years later, I realize I made a bad trade. Mom, you were right. No one is surprised.
Can I carry around a sign that reads: “I’m new here”? Can I attend the adult version of Cokes and Clubs?
Oh forget it, I’ll just buy everything online.
This is probably the only day I will ever respond positively to the question, “All right, are we ready to go for a run?”
If we can all connect with the same music, our souls must be similar in some way.
As the game went into double-overtime (that’s a thing?), I was stress-eating a Pop-Tart when I finally realized I was being ridiculous.
First of all, the whole thing felt like a trick.
REMAIN. CALM.
“It has letters like the Hollywood Sign, so it’s basically the same thing.”
This friendly man at the bar wrote the books my dad and grandpa read at the beach for years, AND he was partially responsible for our family tradition of eating dinner (and lunch, and then dinner again) at Doc Fords on Sanibel.
For months, I have been waiting for news about my dream opportunity. I have held back from any long-term commitments for the sake of a possibility. I have been expectantly been waiting for news—any news.
The ketchup consumption in my house has dramatically increased this fall.
“I’m actually on a connecting flight, traveling to a corn hole tournament. It’s a pretty big deal,” the man in the seat behind me announced.