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The MVA Chronicles

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✅ I’ve got my Maryland driver’s license
I’ve got my Maryland insurance… but it doesn’t start until August 20th, which means I can’t even make an MVA appointment until the 21st. One hoop at a time, right?

In the meantime, I figured I’d knock out the vehicle inspection. Easy. Or so I thought.

The inspection went just fine — until the guy pointed out a tiny rock chip in my windshield. One little nick from a road trip to Fort Bragg, California… in June of 2021. It’s been there for years with no issue, but in Maryland, that’s a fail.

So I drove straight to a local glass place. They charged me $97 to fill it — and honestly, it didn’t look like they did anything at all. No joke.

I took the receipt back to the inspector and showed him the “repair.” He squinted at it, then looked at me and said:

“They did a HORRIBLE job.”

😳

Then he smiled and said:

“But I’m not going to ding you for their mistake. You’re good. I’ll pass it.”

Welcome to small-town Maryland — where the rules are strict, the inspections are honest, and sometimes the guy behind the counter has enough heart to give you a break when it counts.

One more step closer to those Maryland plates. 🛻
One more day closer to not driving around with California plates like a lost tourist. 😅

☕ Support the Journey

If this post resonated with you or made you feel a little less alone on your own path, you’re always welcome to support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing real stories and new chapters, one step at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

🍅🌶️ First Harvest of the Season

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There’s something so satisfying about stepping outside and picking food you’ve grown with your own hands. This week, I finally harvested my first veggies of the season, juicy red tomatoes and jalapeño peppers!

Watching those little green plants turn into something vibrant and full of life has been such a rewarding experience. The tomatoes are plump and sweet, perfect for slicing onto sandwiches or making a Caprese salad. And those jalapeños? Let’s just say I’ll be making some homemade salsa very soon — with a kick!

Gardening has become a quiet joy in my life. It reminds me to slow down, be patient, and take in the little wins. This first harvest may be small, but it’s just the beginning of what I hope will be a bountiful garden for years to come.

Have you picked anything from your garden yet? Share your favorite ways to use fresh tomatoes or peppers — I’m always up for new ideas!

☕ Support the Journey

If this post resonated with you or made you feel a little less alone on your own path, you’re always welcome to support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing real stories and new chapters, one step at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

DoorDashing Through Maryland

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On Friday, I officially became a Dasher.

With no income coming in just yet and my savings starting to dwindle, I knew I needed to do something — anything — to bridge the gap while I wait to hear back about a position I applied for with the school district. So, I signed up with DoorDash and hit the road.

Over the past two days, I’ve driven from quiet North East, Maryland to the busier streets of Newark, Delaware — and everywhere in between. That’s over 200 miles of exploring neighborhoods, small communities, and lively towns I’d barely noticed before.

It’s been eye-opening in the best way. I’ve now seen more of this area in 48 hours than I did in the entire month prior. And through it all — from winding country roads to packed intersections — I’m reminded that movement, even small, keeps us going.

It’s not glamorous. It’s not easy. But it’s honest work. And for now, it’s helping.

One delivery at a time, I’m moving forward.

☕ Support the Journey:
If you’ve ever found yourself in that strange in-between space — waiting, hoping, and still doing the work anyway — I see you. If this post resonated or reminded you of a chapter you’ve lived through, and you’d like to support the writing behind it, here’s where you can do that: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele


Little by Little, We’re Getting Closer

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The kids and I arrived in Maryland on June 17, and honestly? The drive across the country was a complete blur. We left California on a Saturday and rolled into Maryland by Tuesday, 2700 miles in 4 days. Alex and I were driving 12+ hours some days. She and I were trading off after I started getting tired. Then all of us were sleeping in the car at Travel Rest Stops with it still running, just so we could leave the AC on, thanks to all the rain and humidity we hit in most states.

We were cramped in the car each night, tired, and trying to stay sane… with three kids, two cats, a dog, and a tortoise all packed in.

It was definitely an adventure — one I hope I never have to repeat in this lifetime.

But we made it.

Since getting here, we’ve been knocking out task after task. The boys got their Maryland IDs. Alex and I paid for our driver’s licenses, which should be arriving soon. Medical insurance has been switched over. Prescriptions transferred. The boys are officially registered for high school, and Alex is set for college.

I’m still working on getting the car registrations finished — and trying to fully change our mailing address from California to Maryland. It feels never-ending some days, but we’re doing it.

I’ve also applied for a few school district jobs, but so far, no calls for interviews. I’m doing my best to stay patient and positive. I came to Maryland without a job lined up — just faith, determination, and a whole lot of hope that something will come through soon.

Love, light, and prayers for a job.

Nevertheless, I’m proud of us. Even with a long list of “to-dos” still ahead, we’re here and that’s what matters.

☕ Support the Journey

If this post about moving, waiting, and starting over resonated with you or made you feel a little less alone on your own path, you’re always welcome to support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing real stories and new chapters, one step at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

🚗 A Lesson in Waiting: When the Car Finally Came

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Alex’s car finally arrived! We hadn’t had it since June 11th, but on July 12th, it was loaded onto a transporter and it made the long journey all the way from California to Maryland.

After more than a week of waiting, calls, delays, and vague updates, the car is finally here. And I’m grateful. But I’d be lying if I said the whole experience didn’t test my patience in ways I wasn’t quite prepared for.

The car had made it to Philly a week ago. I knew that much. And then… it just sat. Four whole days of sitting. Not moving, not progressing, not being delivered. Every day I called, asked for an ETA, and got the same uncertain tone on the other end. “Soon.” “Maybe tomorrow.” But tomorrow kept shifting.

And here’s the thing: I may not have had official updates, but I had other ways of knowing where the car was. Let’s just say I had eyes on the situation, aka an AirTag. I didn’t say a word to the delivery company, of course since some things are better left unspoken. But that quiet knowing, that silent tracking, made the waiting somehow feel even longer.

Because I knew it wasn’t stuck in traffic. It wasn’t on the way. It was just sitting still. Close, but not quite home.

And that’s where the real lesson came in – Waiting isn’t always about time, it’s about surrender.
Letting go of control. Resisting the urge to push. Choosing calm even when every part of you wants to scream, “Just deliver the car already!”

It reminded me how uncomfortable patience can be. Not the light, fluffy kind where you say “it’ll happen when it happens”, but the gritty, frustrating kind where you know what’s supposed to be happening, and it still isn’t. Sometimes in life, delays aren’t just setbacks, they’re gentle redirections guiding us exactly where we need to be, even if we don’t see it right away.

But eventually, the wait ended. The car showed up. Alex has wheels, and I’ve got a story (and a little more restraint) under my belt.

Turns out, patience isn’t about sitting still, it’s about what we choose to do while we wait.

☕ Support the Journey:
If you’ve ever waited for something that felt like it should have already arrived, while quietly tracking the chaos in the background, you’re not alone. If this post gave you a moment of “yep, been there,” feel free to support my writing with a cup of coffee: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

My Maryland Driver’s License Adventure

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Today I did the thing and went to the MVA (that’s right, not DMV… I’m still reprogramming my brain) and applied for my Maryland driver’s license! As a Recovering Californian, this feels like a milestone. I’m slowly shedding my West Coast habits, well, except for saying “the freeway.” I keep calling it that, and while no one here in Maryland has corrected me (yet), I know I’m sticking out like a palm tree in a forest of oaks.

On the East Coast, it’s all “highway” or “route.” You’ll hear people say, “Take 95” or “hop on Route 40”—not a freeway in earshot, linguistically speaking. But old habits die hard. I’m trying, okay?

Now, let’s talk about the real challenge: the vision test. I’ve got a cataract in my right eye that covers my pupil, and those little letters? They looked like alphabet soup. I finally gave in and put on my driving glasses at the suggestion of the MVA clerk for my right eye. I saw a smidge better, just enough to pass. So, yes, “corrective lenses required” will now be part of my driver’s license.

But the good news? I passed. I survived the MVA. And in 7–10 business days, I’ll be holding my shiny new Maryland license, officially making me a licensed East Coaster.

One more step on my “Leaving California” healing journey complete.

Next stop: learning to remember to say “MVA” and “highway”.

☕ Support the Journey:
From failing to call it a “highway” to barely passing the vision test thanks to my right eye doing its own thing, this Maryland chapter is already full of character. If you got a chuckle or felt a little less alone reading about my license saga, you can always fuel the ride with a cup of coffee at:
👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

🌿 My Little Garden in Maryland

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After 27 years of living in the mountains of Lake Tahoe and the surrounding area of Gardnerville, Nevada, I didn’t expect to fall in love with something as simple as a yard.

In Tahoe, I barely had a yard, just a patch of dirt and a very short summer. I had to put a greenhouse in my garage just to give anything a chance to grow. And even in Gardnerville, where I had chickens, ducks, rabbits, and a garden and outdoor greenhouse, the growing season didn’t last long. The seasons changed fast, and the dry air always made it feel like I was forcing things to grow rather than just letting them.

But here in Maryland… it’s different.

The yard is green. The rain comes often. The humidity? Honestly, I don’t mind it — it feels like everything is alive here. I have a small garden this year, and it’s thriving in a way I’ve never experienced. I’ve got green tomatoes everywhere, chili peppers growing strong — and I barely had to fight for it.

After years of working so hard just to get a few things to grow, this feels like a gift.

I think what surprises me the most is how fast it all happened. In all the years I lived out West, I never had a garden take off like this. There’s something about the soil here, the longer growing season, the moisture in the air — it’s like it just knows what to do.

This yard is healing me in ways I didn’t know I needed. And I’m so grateful for it.

I can’t wait for next year when I can really plan it all out. When I can start from scratch, plant my seeds, and watch them grow from the very beginning. I’ve been saving heirloom seeds for years, just waiting for the right place to plant them. And I think I finally found it. 🌱

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When the Universe Hits Pause: A Car, a Delay, and a Bigger Lesson…

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Our car, which my daughter drives, has been sitting in Philadelphia since late Friday afternoon. That’s three days ago. Just 51 miles away. Close enough to reach, yet still out of reach. And every day that passes, it gets a little more frustrating.

We were expecting it to arrive by now. We planned, rearranged, and made space, emotionally and literally, for it to show up. But it hasn’t. It’s just been sitting there. No movement. No updates. Just… stillness.

And if I’m being honest, it’s taken everything in me to not let the frustration bubble over.

But here’s the thing I’ve come to realize in times like these: Sometimes the universe puts things on pause for a reason.

I don’t always understand why, and I won’t pretend I do now. But I’ve seen it enough in my life to recognize the pattern. When there’s a delay, when something doesn’t happen exactly when I want it to, it usually turns out that it was never supposed to.

Maybe this wait is protecting us. Maybe it’s redirecting us. Maybe it’s just slowing us down so something else can catch up.

Maybe that car, sitting in the city, is keeping us from a moment or a road or a situation we were never meant to cross paths with. AND maybe it’s not about the car at all.

Maybe it’s about trust.

And patience.

And letting go of control, even when everything inside of me wants to scream, “Just deliver my damn car already!”

So I’m sitting with it. All of it – the irritation, the surrender, the mystery. Because I know that even when things don’t make sense, there’s often something bigger at work. Something unseen.

And when the car does arrive? We’ll appreciate it a little more. Not just because we waited, but because we trusted the timing.

☕ Support the Journey:
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5 AM

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I tossed and turned all night.
Couldn’t sleep.
My brain just wouldn’t shut off long enough to let me relax.
It kept going — nonstop — thoughts about everything and nothing, all at once.

I don’t know if it’s Mercury retrograde or menopause creeping in, but it was one of those nights.
The last time I looked at the clock, it was 5 AM.
After that… I must’ve drifted off, because suddenly it was morning and I was waking up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all.

It’s a tired that doesn’t go away with coffee.
Not just physically — it’s in my head, my body, my mood.

But I still showed up today. That counts for something, right?

☕ Support the Journey

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Kibble to homemade….

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Why I’m Trying Homemade Dog Food for My Corgi

Lately, I’ve been rethinking what goes into my dog’s bowl.

After years of relying on commercial kibble, I started wondering: What if I could feed her something fresher, more natural, and made right from my kitchen? It wasn’t about jumping on a trend — it was about making a conscious shift to better understand what she was actually eating.

So, I tried it.

I started with a small test batch of a simple, wholesome recipe inspired by “The Forever Dog” but modified as a Turkey & Veggie Bowl made with cooked turkey, green beans, spinach, carrots, rice, and a dash of turmeric. Nothing fancy. Just real food.

And let me tell you… She gobbled it up like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

That one bowl changed everything.

Suddenly, I wasn’t just thinking about dog food — I was thinking about dog wellness.
I knew I’d need to make more. Enough for the week. Enough to make it a new norm.

I’m still learning — portioning correctly, rotating nutrients, keeping it balanced, but this feels like a better way to feed someone I love. A little more work? Sure. But worth it. She’s family.

☕ Support the Journey

If this post resonated with you or made you feel a little less alone on your own path, you’re always welcome to support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing real stories and new chapters, one step at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele