Archive | November 2018

Why I’m Not Doing NaNoWriMo This Year

  1. I could be eating something pumpkin-flavored instead.
  2. I could finish watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Miss Hammurabi, Game of Thrones (I might still be on season one), or find a new nature or travel documentary.
  3. I could deep clean my house, or at least go through the clutter, or at least give it a surface clean, or at least straighten things up…
  4. I could learn to knit?

Okay, silliness aside, Continue reading

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Christmas Postcards!

Announcement time!!

Last year I wrote a Christmas poem to include in all of the cards I send out to family and friends. I had so much fun doing it that I want to write a small Christmas poem again this year… but I’m going to share it with you too!

If you aren’t already on my Christmas card list and you love snail mail that isn’t asking for money or selling something, then I’d love to send you a Christmas postcard with a poem on it this year.

I’m not putting a limit on how many cards I’ll send out just yet. If the requests are overwhelming I’ll edit this post that I’m no longer accepting addresses for this year when I hit a limit on what I can handle.

I am accepting requests from now through November 30th. International addresses are okay.

(I hope to mail everything the first week of December.)

Please post your name and mailing address in a comment below or email me at lissa.clouser@gmail.com if you don’t want the information publicly visible.

Legal/Privacy: I will not be sharing your name or address with anyone. This is simply for the purpose of a one-time postcard mailed to you. Addresses will not be kept afterward.

 

*Photo by user Jo-B at Pixabay, creative commons usage

Fall 2018 Writing Retreat (Journal 4 of 4)

Ankles in the watery muck!

We’re packed and ready to leave soon. Well, not ready but our time on retreat is up for now.

Last night we were treated to one last view of the Milky Way before the clouds came in. This morning it is a calm sort of overcast with a light breeze at just the perfect temperature. I’ll miss the water and the cottonwood that sounds like rain. I’ll miss running barefoot in the grass. Continue reading