Beth Vrabel

If you happened to drop half a frosted strawberry pop tart outside of today, please know that Jolene loves you very very much.

Anyone else catching snowflakes today?
Image: Jolene, a 3yo golden retriever, sits in snow with her tongue out. Snowflakes have gathered on her pinkish nose.

Emma and I were adventurous and picked a park to visit yesterday! And then, in an area thick with vegetation named for wildcats and without any cell reception, realized the perks of research.
The forest was gorgeous, right out of a fairy tale. It also was a little terrifying and getting darker by the moment. A park ranger later told us that “only a few” mountain lions claim territory there. Phew.
Earlier in the day, we braved a different sort of wild at IKEA, where enjoyed her first ice cream, and I solidified my position as her second favorite human.
Her least favorite became pretty clear as she gave major stink eye to an extraordinarily rude uber driver. Knowing I’d never see the driver again, I firmly (but politely) confronted him. Guess who picked us up the next day? Awkward! But he also was much more polite, so I’ll count it as a win.
Likewise, spending time with Emma, seeing her beautiful life expanded to a new coast, was a boon.

My beautiful Mammaw turned 97 last week. I wish you could hear her laugh; it’s the brightest in the world. I didn’t have a chance to see her in person, but she told me it was a wonderful celebration, with homemade cupcakes, lots of family stopping by, new puppy snuggles, and beautiful flowers. She told me the whole congregation at church sang her a happy birthday.
Here is my favorite picture of her. She is dipping her feet in the water at Longwood Gardens sometime in the 1980s.
You can almost hear that laughter, can’t you?
IMAGE: A framed photo of a white woman with brown hair. She is grinning as her bare feet dangle over a pond.

Something about cresting the end of August makes me want to reshape my life. It starts with cleaning, often with the kitchen table. From there, I set alarms to wake up for exercise classes so I can gain strength and clarity. I organize desk drawers with “good” (Bic) pens, make sure my dressers are full of folded clothes, scrub surfaces and, if I’m really lucky, light a new candle before opening a blank document. All of this is prep to begin a new (to be written) adventure.*
This August isn’t any different.
Except it is.
Because this August, my children are or have already embarked on their own adventures and will be setting up new spaces in which their own stories will unfold, hundreds, if not thousands, of miles from where I sit at the table.
But here is a watercolor stain from when our summer was delightfully messy, covered in artwork and memories and mail and meals and temporary, disorganized, total presence.
Here’s to everyone else organizing their life right now while feeling like something might be missing. May your spaces also be watercolored stained with happy chaos, even when freshly scrubbed. May you too simply be readying for a new adventure.
*I can’t talk about this yet but it’s EXCITING!!!!
IMAGE: A clean table with a small plant in the middle, rooting in a glass vase. IMAGE 2: the same table, with a small circle stain from a dirty dish of watercolor paint.

I paused by a group of first graders having lunch today. They were playing a game in which one child would name something they like, and if the others like it, too, they'd raise their hands in agreement. "Ice cream!" "Kittens!" "Riding a bike!" brought quick hands in the air. The occasional controversial item--including sushi, singing and werewolves--conjured deep debate. The game was breaking into small arguments over the merits of neon green when one little girl stood up and said, "When a butterfly naps on your face!" Everyone paused. Everyone raised their hands. Because, truly, no matter what, we can all agree that's a universal joy.
Anyway, I hope a butterfly naps on your face sometime soon.
Image: a monarch butterfly on a purple bloom in a green field

Happy May! We’re one month closer to graduation! A cherished tradition at Canton High School is to present each senior with a large packet of letters—gathered from teachers, coaches, family, friends and mentors—during a graduation day breakfast.
When my daughter graduated, her packet included cards from the librarian who sang her nursery rhymes, her first-grade teacher, her martial arts coach, her great-grandmother, friends’ parents, aunts and cousins, and more. Each letter is a treasure and a reminder of how far the graduate has come and what they have accomplished!
Please spread the word about Letters for Seniors (aka “Maroon Envelopes”) for the CHS Class of 2025! Ask those in your child’s life to send a card or letter with well wishes (no valuables, please) to Canton High School, 76 Simonds Ave., Canton CT 06019, with the student’s name and Attn: Maroon Envelopes.
Letters are due by the end of May, but given the scope of this project, we’re grateful for your quick response!
IMAGE ONE: an illustration of three graduates surrounded by writing prompts, including “Remember when…” “I’ll never forget…” “I can’t wait to hear about…” “I always knew…” “Don’t forget how proud we are of you” and “You make a difference.”
IMAGE 2: a graphic of an envelope with STUDENT’S NAME, Attn: Maroon Envelope, Canton High School, 76 Simonds Ave, Canton Ct 06019, and a small handwritten note.

I stopped by this afternoon because I needed the perfect gift. Not only did I find exactly what I needed for my book-loving, home-beautifying friend, but when I got to the register I spotted another old friend: Trixy, from TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH.
Writers often say that their published work no longer belongs to them, and I believe that’s true. But running into your books in the wild feels so much like a sudden hug from … well, you. The person you were when you gave yourself time and space and enough love to open your heart, sort the chaos inside, and let it spill out in words.
Trixy would love this space, being surrounded by other books, beautiful things and glowing people. I’m so grateful to have been reminded of her and the journey we took.
As Trixy would say, “Oh my stars!”
IMAGE: the cover of TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, which features a young white girl with long brown hair gazing up in a sunset-backed scene.
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