Checking In

Hello, friends. It feels so strange to be making my way back to this space after the bombshell I reentered it with in August. I never in a million years would have imagined I could hold myself together enough to string together words that made any kind of sense whatsoever about one of my parents so quickly after their passing, especially when it came so unexpectedly and so early in life. Nor did I expect my dad’s death would be the catalyst that brought me back to writing in general. But life is always full of surprises, isn’t it?

All my other energies and hobbies fell into complete disarray in the weeks after. My summer garden slowly died out, and many houseplants followed suit. I haven’t consumed a single book, movie, or podcast without losing interest or completely zoning out since. I hadn’t made a proper meal, let alone broken out my baking tools to whip up a bake until early October. I only just remembered my sourdough starter has been abandoned in the back of the refrigerator and is probably on the brink of starvation. If it weren’t for my trip abroad in the days after his death, my camera would be coated with the thickest layer of dust it’s ever known.

A few days after my return home, I made my way back to work and began slowly clearing out his place and sorting his affairs… which are still far from being dealt with. Most things, even the most basic of tasks, have felt impossible and heavy—and often futile—in the grand scheme of things. It takes all I’ve got to get on with it. Except for writing. I’ve been writing up a storm. It’s like this wall that had gradually built up over the years, making it harder and harder for me to tap into this part of my soul, came crashing down and all the words came flooding into my mind in the days after my dad passed. I like to think he played some part in this from the other side, that it was some cosmic magic he was able to work, to give me back something I’ve been chasing and trying to recapture for so long. He was always so supportive of my writing (and my other hobbies—see below for the sweet types of responses I’d get from him when I’d share what I was up to, which I’ve been revisiting constantly), that I’m sure he took notice I’d involuntarily laid this one to rest and lit the fire for me again.

The thing is, while I’ve had this urge to write for weeks on end now, I’ve struggled to decide in what ways and formats are most fulfilling, bouncing all over the place. Most writing, so far, has come in the form of journaling, or sending emails to myself, or jotting down thoughts and ideas as they cross my mind with the intention to revisit them and expand on them later. And it’s all felt good, but like it’s missing a certain structure and channel for it to feel even better. Not that everything I write needs to be shared with the world, but I feel this urging from somewhere that a small portion of it should be.

I’ve thought of the blog frequently during this time. All the experiences and things I’ve wanted to share here in recent years that I just couldn’t muster the energy for. Whole chapters of my life I’d planned to document, but put off for one reason or another. I think this is a great place to pour some of this newfound inspiration into, and a platform I hope benefits not only me and my need to create, but whomever may be reading it, too. Sharing in this space used to have a profound impact on motivating me to tap into my other interests, too—in the kitchen, in interior design, in gardening, in crafting. And so perhaps pouring my heart out here again will, in turn, help me get back to pouring it into those other things that give me life as well.

While it’s always been quite a mixed bag of topics around here, I have a feeling it’s about to get even more varied. I still plan to share about some of the things I always have—recipes, home and garden projects, travel—but I imagine I’ll be getting real a lot more often, too. I’ve had so many realizations and thoughts on grief, on relationships, on growing older, on life. Some posts may come out a little more cohesive and eloquent than others, but I’m planning to take the approach of authenticity over perfection—my struggle with which has been a big part of what’s held me back from just going for a lot of things in recent years. So, I hope you’ll stick around and take what resonates, messiness and all.

With that, where to begin? I’ve been so fortunate to have squeezed in some major travel in the past couple years that I haven’t shared any proper updates about here on the blog. Since the pandemic shutdowns lifted, Jeremy and I have ventured to Mexico, for our honeymoon, Florida, Paris, Belgium, and Amsterdam. We’ve made lots of day trips around the Midwest, too, discovering our own backyard. And I’ve spent some quality time exploring the Carolinas the past few springs during my roadtrips to see my best friend, Leigh Anne, and just recently took a trip to England and Scotland with her. Jeremy and I are about to experience Portland, Oregon, for the first time. I have thousands of photos and memories to sort through and so desperately want to document these adventures here, that I think you can expect to see some recaps of those trips soon.

And of course, the odd posts about home and holidays and recipes as we enter the winter season, I’m sure. I’m also excited to share that Jeremy is planning to dive back into Beard & Bloom as well; he’s been hard at work the past few months putting together a post (or a series, we’ll see) of epic proportions.

This alone felt so good to get out. I’m looking forward to sharing even more.

As always, thanks for being here. And thanks for reading.

—Aly