I started writing a blog back in July of 2025. At the time, I was really excited about it. I had ideas, motivation, and the determination to actually stick with something creative just for myself. For a while, I did great. I was posting at least once a week and feeling pretty proud of myself for keeping the momentum going.
And then… life happened.

Not the gentle, “oops I got busy this week” kind of life. I mean the full-on, chaotic, slightly ridiculous series of events that makes you look back and think, well that escalated quickly.
Somewhere along the way I just lost my inspiration. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to write about. Every time I sat down to start something, my brain basically said, “No thanks.” So I made a deal with myself: I would just take a break and start fresh on January 1st. Clean slate. New year. New motivation.

That sounded like a great plan.
Unfortunately, life had other plans.

January kicked off with my husband getting sick. At first we thought it was just a regular cold, maybe a stubborn flu or something that needed a few days to run its course. Ten days later he was still not better, and it turned out he had pneumonia. Not exactly the start to the year we had in mind.
Then, because sharing is caring apparently, I got sick too. And yes—also pneumonia. As if that wasn’t enough, I threw in an ear infection for good measure. Because why not really commit to the experience?
The kids got sick as well, although thankfully they did not get pneumonia (small victories). Still, the entire household spent what felt like the whole month of January 2026 trapped in the house, coughing, recovering, and going through an alarming amount of tissues.
By the time everyone was finally healthy again, we realized we had basically spent the entire month indoors.
But to be fair, even if we had felt amazing… we probably still would have been inside.
Because December had already been insanely cold. Not just “brr it’s winter” cold. I’m talking Alaska reminding you who is in charge cold. The kind of cold where stepping outside makes you question every life decision that led you there.
So between December’s deep freeze and January’s household plague, we were already well on our way to some serious cabin fever.

Then February rolled in.
It was still cold (because of course it was), we got a lot more snow, and I also had to say goodbye to my sweet old kitty, Pi. She was 22 years old, which is pretty incredible for a cat, but that didn’t make it any easier. She had been part of my life for half of my life, which is a strange thing to realize when you say it out loud. Losing her was really hard.

By the time we reached the end of February, I think the universe could sense we needed a break. We finally escaped Alaska for 12 days and went to Hawaii. And honestly? That trip may have been the only thing keeping me hanging on.
Sun. Warm air. The ocean. Being able to walk outside without preparing like you’re climbing Everest. It was glorious.
But eventually vacations end and reality returns.
So now I’m back in Alaska. And in case you were wondering… yes, it’s still cold. And yes, we are apparently expecting more snow.
I miss the sun and the beach more than I can reasonably explain.

But I also came back with something I hadn’t felt in a while: a renewed motivation to start writing again. Maybe the break was necessary. Maybe sometimes life just forces you to step away for a bit.
Either way, I’m back—and ready to pick up where I left off.

Please enjoy some photos of the sun and sand and one very photogenic gecko. 🥰