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”.

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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:
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🌿 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.

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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?

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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

Sweat, Dirt & Determination:

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My Backyard Bug Battle!

Let me just say it, I’m tired of being a walking buffet for mosquitoes and a potential target for ticks. The backyard may look peaceful, but trust me, it’s a battlefield.

This week, I decided enough was enough. I loaded up on citronella, lavender, mint, and lemongrass—natural plants known to help deter both mosquitoes and ticks. I had this whole peaceful planting session in mind… until reality hit.

Digging through the thick, root-filled ground was a nightmare. So, I brought out the Auger – aka the big guns. It was sweaty, humid, and honestly kind of ridiculous. My daughter even had to jump in and help me wrangle the thing. (Teamwork makes the dream work, right?)

We finally got the holes dug and the plants in. And just as I started to feel hopeful… a mosquito landed on me.

Seriously?

But I’m still holding onto hope that once these plants settle in, they’ll help reclaim our backyard from the creepy crawlers. I may be covered in bites now, but I’ve got lavender on my side and a really strong Auger.

If you enjoyed this slice of real-life backyard chaos and want to support more stories like this, you can always buy me a coffee. It helps keep the bites bearable and the blog going. ☕️💜

Still Unpacking and Still Processing

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Some boxes aren’t just cardboard. Some are emotional.

It’s been four weeks since the move, and I still have a bedroom full of boxes. Cluttered corners. Stacks that make me sigh just looking at them. Every morning I wake up and think: I just want my room back. My space. My peace. My normal.

But the truth is, moving across the country meant leaving a lot behind, not just things, but pieces of a life that held meaning. It’s honestly mind-blowing how much we had to let go of back in Tahoe. Furniture. Keepsakes. Familiar comforts. Even my daughter’s car had to stay behind… until now.

Thanks to my dad, her car is finally on a transport truck headed for Maryland — so she’ll have wheels for college. That moment gave me a breath of relief, a tiny win in the middle of this chaos. Because even when it feels like everything is too much, little wins still matter. And that car will give my daughter a little more freedom to explore as well as not rely on me to take her to school at the end of August.

The truth is, it’s not easy. I’m over the mess. I’m over the boxes. I want my room back. And I want to feel settled, not constantly like I’m digging for socks or that one charger that’s still hiding somewhere under a pile labeled “Misc. Bedroom.”

Unpacking is exhausting. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I’m realizing it’s not just about stuff. It’s about letting go and starting over while still holding the weight of everything that came before.

Maryland is a fresh start, yes. But new beginnings come with growing pains. And sometimes, a bedroom full of clutter feels like a reminder that I’m still in the middle of it.

But here’s the thing: boxes don’t stay forever. They will get unpacked. My room will feel like mine again. And this chapter — even with all its messiness — will be part of the story I one day look back on with pride.

One box at a time. One breath at a time.

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Untethered from the Clock: Our Snail-paced Shift to East Coast Time

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It’s late. Or at least the clock says it is nearing 4:00 a.m. and I am finally getting tired. Since landing on the East Coast, the kids and I have been floating between time zones, slipping into a rhythm that doesn’t match the world outside our windows.

We don’t have a schedule right now. No alarms, no early meetings or school bells. We sleep when we’re tired, wake when we’re ready. Dinner somehow always lands around 9 p.m., though we never plan it that way. It just… happens.

And maybe that’s okay.

There’s a quiet kind of peace in not rushing to reset. In letting our bodies and minds adjust in their own time. I know structure will return soon. But for now, I’m leaning into the in-between—this soft space between what was and what’s coming.

We’re not lost. We’re just resting. Recalibrating.

And slowly, gently, we’ll find our new rhythm here in Maryland.

☕ 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

The Itch I Didn’t Pack For…

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If you told me a few months ago that I’d be dealing with ticks in my house, I would’ve laughed and probably made a face. But here we are.

Back in Tahoe, fleas and ticks just weren’t part of daily life. I never had to think about them. But now that we’re in Maryland? I’ve already found three ticks inside the house. It’s giving me that mental itchiness you can’t quite shake. You know where you’re not even sure if something’s crawling on you, but your brain says “probably.” The stupid phantom feelings, LOL.

It’s not just ticks either. The mosquitoes here have made me their personal buffet. I’m completely covered in bites, and I’ve just about had it. The kids are fine (I haven’t put anything on them), and the cats are indoor-only, so they’ve been spared. Me? Not so lucky.

So, I’m trying the natural route. I’ve started using essential oils in the yard, and I’ve been working on planting herbs outside that are supposed to help repel ticks and fleas, like Rosemary, Mint, and Lavender. I also ordered a product called No-Bite off Amazon, hoping it’ll give me some kind of relief. No chemicals, no bug sprays on the kids — just me trying to keep the bugs off my body and out of my space without losing my mind. I even ordered the Wondercide Flea & Tick Concentrate for Yard & Garden and sprayed the whole backyard the other day. Not totally sure I did it right or if I used enough, because I still found a tick in the house today. So… yeah. I’m learning as I go. Maybe I need a second round, or maybe the ticks didn’t get the memo yet.

No one warned me about this part of East Coast living. The trees are beautiful. The air is soft. The backyard is green and alive… but so are the bugs.

Still, I wouldn’t trade the peace we’ve found here. I just didn’t expect to be sharing it with quite so many six-legged roommates.

One bite, one oil blend, and one deep breath at a time.

If this post made you laugh, cringe, or feel just a little more seen in your own messy moments, you can always support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing the real stuff, one bug bite at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

Letting Go, Holding On, and Hoping for the Best

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When we left for Maryland, we had to leave Alex’s car behind. The engine had a knocking sound, and the dealership service department told us point blank: “It’s not going to make it across the country.” So we made a tough decision and left the car behind, hoping my dad could sell it.

But life is funny. Over the last few weeks, both my dad and my brother drove the car around town. The knocking sound? Gone. Just like that, the thing we thought was finished suddenly had a little more life left in it.

Now, the car is finally on a transport truck headed our way, and we’re hoping to have it by the end of the month. It’s a huge weight off my chest.

I’ve been so stressed about how I’d get another car for Alex in time for college. Her classes start at the end of August, and without that car, I honestly don’t know what we would’ve done. I’m not working yet, and if I do get a job, there’s no way I can drive her to school every day and make it work.

So much of this move has been built on trust, trusting that things will work out, even if I don’t know how yet. We left more than just that car behind. I left furniture, memories, routines… and a lot of my heart in Tahoe. But slowly, little pieces of our old life are finding their way to us again, reminding me that even in all this change, we’re still being carried.

☕ 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