Updated: Dec 22, 2021

I'm recently returned from a two-week writing retreat at Welcome Hill Studios in New Hampshire where I also finished up various work gigs for the year. While I'm eager to sink against couch cushions with a stack of new books, it isn't to be. Our youngest is home for the holidays and she has other ideas. So far we've cut and trimmed an eleven-foot balsam, made fudge and pecan turtles, wrapped gifts, and checked off half a dozen holiday films beginning with White Christmas on the night of the full moon snow.

(Cold Moon at Pemaquid Point, Jodi Paloni) This month, she joined me in my full moon ritual. We set out a jar of filtered water to imbibe with magical moonlight, lit a candle, went on a guided imagery journey, talked about what came, and hugged as we shared our hopes that each of us manifests our full moon intentions. In the morning, we drank moon water after clinking our fancy glasses. Add all these activities to extravagant meals and kitchen clean-up, daily hikes in the woods, and walks with an ecstatic dog on the wide-open beach. We are taking full advantage of the blessed life we live on the coast of Maine. And then, there's the need for a pause.

With little or no time to read, write, or paint, I try and at least grab a f