Other Things Archives - Seams Like a Story

February 16, 2026February 15, 2026

Going for Gold

This week, I found myself glued to the television watching the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan/Cortina. I was captivated by the crazy curlers launching their stones and yelling directions to teammates who frantically swept the the ice ahead of them. I gasped as cross country skiers collapsed at the finish line after spending every ounce of their energy on the grueling course. I marveled at the daredevil jumps, twists, and flights of snowboarders and ski jumpers. I held my breath as lugers and skeleton athletes launched themselves like human misses down the ice on tiny sleds reaching speeds of up to 90 mph.

But my favorite is figure skating. I love the costumes, the music, the way the athletes tell their story through, specific moves, dance, music, and costumes as they glide around the rink. Ilia Malinin, a 21 year-old skater from the US, was competing in his first Olympics. He’d gained fame in previous completions as the “Quad God”, for his unprecedented ability to land multiple quadruple jumps. He was a shoo-in to take gold in the men’s figure skating event. The pressure was on and the media paparazzi followed his every move throughout the week.

In his first appearance on Olympic ice, he faltered a bit in the team competition, coming in second. He seemed to have regained his composure a few days later and came in first in the initial part of the individual men’s event. All he had to do was skate the free skate portion of the program and the gold would be his. But something was off. On several of his signature quad jumps, he landed singles. Then he fell. Twice. He ended up in eighth place. It was heartbreaking to watch.

After learning the results, Malinin walked over to Kazakhstan’s Mikhail Shaidorov to congratulate him on his Olympic gold medal win. He later said that the pressure of being in the Olympic spotlight got to him and he “lost his way” on the ice on the most important skate of his life.

There is no official Olympics for authors, but often the “gold medal” is measured by Best Seller lists, five star ratings, social media followers, books sold, invitations to book festivals and speaking events. It’s easy to get caught up in the competition, or feel that your work doesn’t measure up. When faced with a disappointment or a setback, it would be easy to give up.

That’s when I turn to this quote by Elizabeth Gilbert (Big Magic):

“There is a quiet glory in merely making things, and then sharing those things with an open heart and no expectations.”

We take the setbacks, learn from them, and move on. We remind ourselves of the passion, the joy we take in creating our art and sharing it with others. No expectations. Out of the spotlight. A quiet glory.

I don’t pretend to be an Olympic skater, and I can only imagine what Ilia must be going through, but I hope he rekindles his passion, gains from this experience, and finds his way back. I look forward to seeing what he can do next.

Threads of Thought

Are you a fan of the Olympics? What is your favorite Winter Olympic sport?

author holding two books, Until Italy and Out of the Crayon Box

Besides the Olympics, what else happens in Italy? “Book” your adventure now!

UNTIL ITALY: a Traveler’s Memoir

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February 2, 2026February 2, 2026

Kneading Wisdom

Lessons from the art of breadmaking

wire shelves filled with loaves of bread — Loaves of Sourdough from Barrio Bread

Lately, I’ve been looking for ways to find joy and meaning in the simple things of life. Today, I need look no further than my own kitchen. On this winter’s day, my home is filled with the aroma of freshly baked sourdough bread. Full disclosure, my husband Ed is the baker of our family. He puts all the ingredients together to create the bread. I’m the writer. I put all the words together to create the stories. With that in mind, this post aspires to rise to the occasion and warm your heart.

Here are some lessons from the art of breadmaking:

Get off to a good start.

In the back corner of my refrigerator stands a plastic container of goo technically known as the starter, a live, fermented culture of flour and water that acts as a natural leavening agent. Yes, live. You have to feed it some flour every now and then. It’s kind of like having a pet except that the starter doesn’t shed and you don’t have to clean up after it (unless it gets overactive and erupts all over the inside of the fridge.)

Our starter has a pedigree; it came from the James Beard Award winning baker Don Guerra, of Barrio Bread in Tucson. During the pandemic, Don kept his bakery open meeting (socially distanced) customers one at a time at the front door. He created an online bread baking course and offered to give a starter to anyone who wanted to try their hand a baking at home. This is how my husband learned to bake sourdough bread and how a baby starter came to live with us.

Don’t be afraid to roll up your sleeves and get messy.

Ed takes off his wedding ring and uses his hands to mix the simple ingredients: flour(we use the Barrio blend of heritage grains), water, salt, and starter- together in a glass bowl. At this point the mixture is sticky and wet.

Let things develop at their own pace.

Making bread, especially sourdough bread takes time and patience. Ed goes through a sequence of kneading, stretching, and proofing the dough several times before it is ready to be shaped into a loaf and baked. There are no shortcuts. The dough will let you know when it’s ready.

Share the Love

Finally, Ed takes the golden brown loaf from the oven. We slice a few pieces off one end, spread on some butter, and enjoy our first bites. Perfection. We intend to save the rest to share with our friends who will be arriving soon. There is nothing more profound than breaking bread with others.

What else can we share? A smile, a word of encouragement, a helping hand extended to a neighbor, a ‘thank you’, a story? Let’s do it!

Threads of Thought

Don Guerra shares his loaves and bread baking expertise daily. You can learn more about Don and Barrio Bread at http://barriobread.com

I love to take life’s ordinary moments and turn them into extraordinary stories to share with you!

Click here!

January 26, 2026January 26, 2026

A Hummingbird Named Bob

a warm story for a winter’s day

(Not Bob, but this is Purple Floyd who often visits the feeder outside of my office window in warm and sunny Tucson Arizona. He keeps me company when I’m writing. )

Mine is one of the dwindling number of households that still gets a local paper paper delivered to my home. It’s no longer published in my town and over the years as more people get their news digitally, the paper has thinned to a few skinny sections. Local news (a day or two behind), Sports ( I toss this aside), Comics/Puzzles/Heloise (I do the Jumble) and National /World News (Blah) I want to stay informed, but it seems that each day brings a new set of issues that disturb and confuse me. I feel overwhelmed and helpless.

One morning, I couldn’t face the bad news and almost tossed the paper into the recycling bin. But there, taking center stage on the front page was a picture of a humminbird with the caption “Costa’s hummingbird set free after rescue, long road trip.” (Arizona Daily Star, Sunday, November 30, 2025) Oh, how I needed a story with a happy ending! I grabbed a cup of tea and settled in for a good read.

According to the article, Jennifer Munson in Lincoln Nebraska, found an unusual hummingbird at her feeder in early October. She snapped a picture and an agent from the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission identified the bird as a juvenile Costa’s hummingbird who’d ended up more than 1,000 miles from its usual range. The bird stayed in Jennifer’s yard for weeks, and she and her husband named him Bob, after the sportscaster Bob Costa.

Bob was content to hang out in Jennifer’s yard greeting her each morning with song and buzzing around her when she refilled the feeder, but she was worried. How was a hummingbird from the southwest going to survive Nebraska’s harsh winter? Already the late autumn flowers were gone and nectar was freezing in the feeders.

As temperatures plummeted, Bob showed signs of distress. Jennifer had no idea how he’d gotten so far from his home, but she realized the only way to save him was to get him back where he belonged. Somehow Jennifer was able to capture Bob and bring him in from the cold. She contacted the Nebraska Wildlife Rehab director Laura Stastny, who then called the Southern Arizona Hummingbird Rescue Hotline.

And that’s how Bob, the wayward hummingbird found himself on a road trip. As Laura left Nebraska and headed towards the southwest, Bob was alert and lively in his carrier, becoming more vocal when they crossed into New Mexico. Eventually he arrived at the home of a Tucson bird rehabilitator near Saguaro National Park East where he spent a few days to acclimate. When he was pronounced fit to go, the door on his aviary was opened and Bob zipped away towards the open desert. Hopefully his wanderings will keep him closer to home this time.

Back in Nebraska, Jennifer was delighted when she received the news and became emotional when she saw video clips of Bob’s release. In a letter addressed “to those who helped save Bob Costa’s” in the same edition of the Daily Star, Jennifer said “I am forever indebted to you for taking care of my tiny friend and saving my spirit at the same time.”

It took an enormous effort involving many people and thousands of miles to save such a tiny life when there are certainly much more serious matters that need our attention. And yet, maybe all each of us can do right now is do something that is in our reach. Step in somewhere to make a difference where we can, no matter how small.

Even if only to save our spirit.

Threads of Thought

Happy Anniversary Seams Like a Story! I created this space 5 years ago to ” find a way to let my words and stories out of my head, drawer, and computer and let others see and hear them. When you make your writing real, it can gloriously travel to all sorts of places. Even a seemingly tiny story can deeply affect other people. –SARK, Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper

In the past 5 years, I’ve published 151 posts, have had 16,889 visitors to my site, and 24,409 views. Thank you all for being here!

There’s more! Click here! to find my books!

January 12, 2026January 12, 2026

LIfe Outside the Lines

a bouquet of winter greens and berries in snow — Winter greens and berries in the snow

I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, but those of you who know me, know I’m a planner. I like to set goals and map things out especially at the beginning of a new year. Maybe it was those 37 years as an elementary teacher that honed this trait in me, or maybe I was born with this tendency. I like my life in neat little boxes like the ones in the teacher planning notebooks I filled in year after year.

But these past few months have taught me a lesson. Real Life doesn’t live in boxes.

In October, my mother passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Because it had been a long goodbye as we lost Mom bit by bit, I thought I would be prepared for the end. I was not. In that moment , and in weeks that followed, the universe as I’d known it shifted. In this new reality, I had no plans to follow, no guidelines for what to say or how to feel, no boxes to hide within.

With input from my siblings, I plunged into the process of planning Mom’s memorial service , agonizing over each detail: location, date, speakers, hymns, scriptures, flowers, obituary, photos, family dinner…. I realize now, it was my attempt to barricade myself from the pain, running back into my familiar space as I filled in boxes and checked items off of my list.

Everything was ready, then Real Life happened. The day of the service, a major winter storm hit Southern Indiana. In the hours before we were set to begin, the state highway department issued a travel advisory. The roads were slick and hazardous. Miraculously, my children and their families, and my siblings and their families arrived safely. The service would go on, but many other family members and friends called to say they would not be able to attend. “We’ll have to just go with the flow,” the pastor told me. I didn’t want to go with the flow, I wanted to row the boat.

As the music started, I made my way into the chapel and sat on the front row with my family. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let the rich sound of familiar hymns wash over me. Beautiful eulogies from my nieces and siblings warmed my heart. When It was my turn , I spoke what was in my heart, my voice cracking when I reached the end:

“There will always be a bit of Mom that lives within me and in each of you, whose lives she has touched. Even now I can hear her saying ‘Go on now, take a chance, go for it, live your life to the fullest, and love with all your heart.’

Life outside the lines. That’s the way Mom lived. And in saying those words out loud, I made a promise to myself.

By evening, the snow had subsided transforming the city into a winter wonderland. Boisterous college students celebrated under the glow of holiday lights strung across the city streets. I took Ed’s arm as we navigated the slippery sidewalk to the restaurant where the family gathered. We celebrated Mom with food and drinks and stories and laughter. Exactly the kind of party she would have loved.

Threads of Thought

It’s not easy for us to talk about death, and grief takes many forms. For me, writing helps. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share.

For those caring for someone with a terminal illness or grieving a loss, I would recommend the book: Nothing to Fear by Julie McFadden (hospice nurse)

“Moments Bloom Into Words” and I love to write about all of life’s adventures.

To find my books, click here.

Out of the Crayon Box and Until Italy Books

June 23, 2025June 23, 2025

il Dolce Far Niente

The Sweetness of Doing Nothing

It’s that time of year in Arizona. Triple-digit temperatures force me to take my walks at a ridiculously early hour and schedule errands for the morning. I slather on sunscreen, wear a hat, guzzle water. The ‘dog days of summer’ drain my energy and force me inside for a good part of the day. I feel like doing nothing. Blah.

This goes against my nature. I like to stay busy. I’m a ‘producer’, one who makes things…you know: sew a garment, write a story, create a blog post. I’m schedule and routine oriented and not particularly good at “doing nothing.” So now what? The weather is out of my control. Maybe I need to change my attitude. The Italians have a saying:

il dolce far niente

In English it means “the sweetness of doing nothing,” but it sounds way better when you say it in Italian. Try it: eel dough-chay far nee-in-tay. Isn’t that beautiful?! Now say it with an Italian flair. Bonus points if you come up with hand gestures to go with it.

Il dolce far niente isn’t about laziness, but rather it refers to enjoying relaxing moments without a specific purpose or goal, finding contentment in simple activities, slowing down to appreciate the small joys in life. Though not a new idea, the term has been popular in social media circles lately, perhaps as a result of our increasingly fast-paced, crisis-mode-world we find ourselves in these days.

Benefits of il dolce far niente include:

reduced stress and anxiety
enhanced creativity
improved mental clarity
deeper self-awareness
new perspectives

Who wouldn’t want this,

But how?

The planner in me wants to immediately make a list, schedule times to relax, research activities (actually, that’s what I did when composing this post). But stop! Doesn’t doing something so I can start doing nothing kinda go against the philosophy here?

Maybe the place for me to start is to shift my mindset around productivity, taking moments in my day to daydream, breathe, pick up the guitar I haven’t used in decades and strum a few chords, enjoy that cup of tea without rushing on to the next item on my “to do” list.

And as for my writing life:

I’m working on finishing the rough draft of my next story and, of course the producer in me wants to see this through the editing, revisions, formatting, publishing. It’s a lot. Yet perhaps, the best thing I can do for my writing is to step away from it from time to time for some dolce far niente moments.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to click “publish” and and do nothing, nothing at all. Sweet.

Threads of Thought

Your turn! Stop, step away from your computer or phone.

Now do nothing…. ahhhh….

By the way, reading is a great way to have a dolce far niente moment. Try one of these! Available in paperback, eBook, and Kindle Unlimited.

2 Books, Out of the Crayon Box: Thoughts on Teaching, Retirement, and Life...and Until Italy: A traveler's memoir