Another November has come and gone - far too quickly if you ask me – and I want to take a minute to reflect on all I'm thankful for. I tend to mistake life’s little luxuries as givens, but I know that I'm undeserving, and not everyone is afforded these same privileges.  I am grateful for a zillion things, but because there are 30 days in November, here is an abbreviated list (of 30 things)

I am ashamed to say that I have lived in Washington my entire life, and until last weekend, had never been to the Gorge. I've probably driven by it 499 times and peed in the Columbia River right below at least 100 times if that counts for anything? Actually, that just makes it worse, so nevermind. When I found out the Zac Brown Band was performing at the Gorge in September I squealed. And then in

How can September already be half over?! The sun is disappearing entirely too early in the evening, Week 1 of the NFL is in the books (the Seahawks are still terrible), and I'm about to rehash my summer. What?! Life can slow down any second now--I'm ready.  Now that I have that out of the way... you know how I always say my birthday should be a holiday, or at least be noted

I may have been pouting a teeny, tiny bit on the days leading up to 4th of July weekend, but looking back at it--that was just flat out stupid. I tripped on my lower lip a few times because I was going to be out of town for work and jealous of all my friends that were spending their long weekend at the lake. That's what I wanted to do. But. If you have to travel anywhere for Independence Day besides

Christmas, Halloween, (my birthday), 4th of July, and Hoopfest are by far my favorite holidays--in that order. So when the last weekend of June arrives, it's like the kickoff to the better half of my year... that just so happens to get progressively better. I've always been a save-the-best-for-last kind of girl. Now, I know that Hoopfest is not a holiday, technically. But it should be, especially

When I met Nick Koller, Lind was a dirty word. And Ritzville called for soap in the mouth. Lind-Ritzville was our cross-state high school rival, and we lost to them more times than I'd like to admit. Maybe if I bucked hay as a three year old I'd be that good at sports, too. Still bitter. So when Nick raved about what a great time he had at the Lind Combine Derby every year, I had two thoughts.