What I’m working on: December 2024

For the first time in years and years—and just in time to discover the memorykeeping industry as I previously knew it has all but disappeared—I’ve got a whole bunch of memorykeeping projects in the works. Perf! Here are four that I’m hyperfocused on right now.

Hike Passport

This Hike Passport is from Letterfolk. It is, of course, no longer listed on their website. They do still have the kids version and a handful of other Passports listed, though.

An overhead view of a pocket-sized, green-covered Hike-themed passport atop my wood desk, surrounded by 3-inch by 4-inch photos of me taken during different hikes and a pink mini stapler that looks kind of like a whale.

Each pocket-sized booklet has room for 20 entires. The left side of each spread is a little “form” that you fill out with information about the hike—trail name, distance, the day’s weather, any wildlife you saw, who you went with, etc. The right side of each page is blank (well, it’s printed with a dot grid) for you to do with it what you will: make a sketch, journal, affix a photo, etc. I decided to include a photo from each hike with its entry.

I’m waiting for the latest batch of photos to arrive before I share more of this project here. (I print many of my photos at home and order professional-quality ones only for special projects (I use Persnickety Prints).)

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Holiday mini flip album

In the memorykeeping world there’s an annual holiday project that a bunch of people take on. It’s called December Daily (more here and here and here) and it’s brought to us all by memorykeeping OG (and fellow Oregonian!) Ali Edwards (also here and here) and her creative team.

An overhead view of a stack of holiday-themed and -patterned scrapbook paper arranged on my dining table.

I do not participate in December Daily. I never have. I’ve tried—lots of times. It’s just never worked out. This is partly because I’m not a big holiday person and so generally don’t feel connected to the premise of the project. And it’s partly because my brain struggles real hard to do a daily themed project and not have each day’s “entry” be from that actual day.

(The way most people, including Ali, approach this project is to tell 25 to 31 different stories throughout the month (many people document only through Christmas Day; some through the end of the month), regardless of whether the story they’re documenting happened on the day of the month that corresponds to the number used in the album. My brain does not work like that.)

Still, I love—and I do mean LOVE—looking through everyone else’s December Daily projects. And still, there is one annual holiday tradition I do with my kids that I want to document. This will be that project. I’m very excited to get the photos back and put it all together.

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Museum Passport

Another Letterfolk product. Unlike the Hike Passport, the Museum Passport is still available on their website (for now).

My disembodied hand holds a small, pocket-sized, blue-covered Museum-themed "passport" over a stack of ephemera collected from museums I've visited over the years.

Like with the Hike Passport (and all the others in the collection), each booklet is pocket-sized and has room for 20 entries. The left page of each spread is a little “form” you fill out with details about each entry—the name of the museum, the type of museum, admission cost, favorite pieces, etc. The right page of each spread is blank-ish (printed with a dot grid) for you to do whatever you want there. I chose to include a photo from each visit with its entry.

I’m working backward with this project, which is not my preferred way of approaching a memorykeeping project. It feels easier and less stressful to me to keep up with projects in real time. That isn’t always possible, and that’s okay. I do what I can with what I have and where I’m at.

I finished all the legwork for this project the weekend before Thanksgiving and placed an order the other day for the photos I’ll be including with each entry. I look forward to sharing more of this project here once I’m caught up with it all.

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Yearly memory album

This style of memorykeeping—which is basically a physical Instagram grid with some collage-style elements and techniques added in here and there—is also known as Project Life, modern memorykeeping, and pocket pages-style scrapbooking or memorykeeping. It’s been my go-to memorykeeping approach since I first learned about it circa late 2011/early 2012. In recent years—since 2020, really—I haven’t been as consistent with it as I was in earlier years. The pandemic and the halt to life as we knew it that it brought are only partly to blame. A pre-pandemic major and unexpected life event is also to blame, as are mental illness and the lack of space there is to store my supplies and work on my projects in the apartment I’ve lived in for the last four years.

A six-inch by eight-inch photo album, open and face up on a table. On both the left and rides sides are a page protector partitioned into four three-inch by four-inch pockets, each filled with a photo or a card with journaling on it.

Nevertheless, she (I!) persisted: I’m pleased to announce that since July of this year I have fully been back on my bullshit and have kept up with documenting the days and weeks and months in this 6″x8″ album. I’d like to share more spreads here on the blog whenever the dreary Oregon sky that dominates this time of year gives me some photo-friendly lighting to work with. Don’t hold your breath.

A six-inch by eight-inch photo album, open and face up on a table. On both the left and rides sides are a page protector partitioned into four three-inch by four-inch pockets, each filled with a photo or a card with journaling on it.

I’m the opposite of pleased to announce that I’m not sure how I’ll continue this practice (my main memorykeeping practice!) going forward—I’m almost out of room in this album and the brand that sold these albums (and the corresponding page protectors) recently pivoted to selling office stationery (sticky notes, desk calendars, notepads, etc.). It’s a brand “refresh” that I’m not alone in feeling deeply confused and disappointed by. Here’s hoping I can figure out how to keep at this project in 2025 and beyond.

My 2025 to-do

I don’t make new year’s resolutions. Instead, I make a new year’s to-do list comprised of a single, massive undertaking. Then, I break the overall undertaking into smaller and smaller groups of tasks, order them hierarchically, and work away at it all, bit by bit, until the project is done (or I give up).

My 2024 to-do was “get my affairs in order.” You know, estate planning. I have neither an estate to speak of nor plans nor a desire to become incapacitated or die any time soon. Even so, I’m a single parent with no family and few friends (and none who know me well enough or live close enough to take over if I were to become incapacitated or die any time soon) and a history of mental illness. Plus, there’s the ongoing COVID pandemic, the likely incoming bird flu pandemic, and climate collapse. So, even though I don’t have plans or a desire to become incapacitated or die any time soon, I recognize that these things are not, ultimately, in my control, and I made it my mission this year to plan as best I could for the inevitable.

This was a deeply uncomfortable undertaking. It was also an important and necessary one. After a year of difficult work—I had to stop and take weeks-long breaks several times throughout the year because thinking about these things often triggered my OCD (existential subtype) and derealization, and the administrative aspect of estate planning is not compatible with my autistic executive dysfunction—I managed to check this to-do off my list at the eleventh hour (yesterday!). Thank fuck.

In 2025, I want to tackle my digital photo and video organization and storage. Like 2024’s to-do, this will be a massive undertaking. I anticipate it will also be massively frustrating at most points and massively rewarding and helpful once it’s complete. (I’ve been trying (“trying”) to tackle this task since, like, 2018 as part of a larger digital decluttering project I’ve been very slowly chipping away at. It has always felt too overwhelming. Getting my affairs in order also felt incredibly overwhelming and I managed to do it anyway. I’m hoping the sense of achievement and ability that crossing that to-do off my list gave me helps me finally get to the finish line with this project, too.)

I’m not yet sure how I’ll approach this thing because I haven’t yet completely mapped out the project. I do know that my first steps will be to figure out where all my digital media is, and then, before I start fucking around with it, back it all up.

Completing these two steps will be challenging considering several of my memory cards are missing or lost (RIP), a not insignificant amount of media (about eight years’ worth) is saved locally on an old laptop that I don’t currently have physical access to (it’s in a co-parent’s garage, thousands of miles away) and may not actually even work anymore, my old Dropbox account isn’t downloading/exporting files correctly (and their support team can’t figure out why), and I have a bevy of photos that now exist only online with photo storage services I don’t remember the names of and maybe don’t exist anymore. And then there’s the headache of the media that I do currently have access to, which, at roughly 130,000 photos and videos, is beyond overwhelming.

Eventually, this undertaking will also involve distinguishing iPhone media from GoPro media from “real” camera media (this is something that is important to me right now; it may not be once I get going with this project); going through all my screenshots and probably deleting most of them; figuring out offline backup solutions; and drafting a README document that explains where everything is and how it’s organized so that when the time comes my kids can easily find what they’re looking for.

The end result of this project doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to work better than what I’m doing now: Whatever the solution, it should be able to adapt to changes (as best as can be anticipated) in technology, our access to it (I am deeply concerned about the future of the internet), and how we use it; it should be able to adapt to my needs; it should include both on- and offline redundancy; and it should be easy and economical to use, maintain, and back up. Data privacy and security, especially in regard to (1) citizen surveillance and (2) customer data being used to train AI, is also very important to me. Unfortunately, both of these things seem ultimately unavoidable.

Because this to-do overlaps so heavily with the types of things I’ve shared so far here on the blog—memorykeeping, other creative and creative-ish projects, small adventures I take (or find) myself on—I’m sharing about it here on the blog, too. Partly to help myself stay focused on this monumental task, and partly in case it’s the push someone else needs to get going—or pick back up—with their own similar effort. Progress report to come.

Pandemic Puzzles mini album: An update

Over the weekend I added photos for five additional puzzles to my Pandemic Puzzles mini album. I messed up on the very first one 😬.

Spread #1. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of illustrations of different chickens.
Chickenology by Princeton Architectural Press. 1,000 pieces.

Ideally, the right-side page should be flipped so that “chickenology” is on the edge, facing in. The thing is, there was…a wildlife situation happening on the roof of my apartment building when I was putting these pages together. It was extremely loud and distracting (and, at times, sounded kind of like chickens). I would’ve gone outside to get a better idea of what was happening (I was watching it as best I could via the reflection in the top-floor windows of the building across from mine) if there hadn’t also been an aggressive and likely rabid raccoon terrorizing tenants in our parking lot. It was an eventful holiday over here (and, quite frankly, the most excitement in my life all year). Anyway. I was distracted by all the chaos and I messed up. Oh well.

I bought this ramen puzzle at Two Rivers/Weird Sisters, a super cute combination book store/yarn shop in North Portland’s St. Johns neighborhood. If you’re planning a visit to Portland, I highly recommend checking this place out while here. (Hound & Hare, a vintage shop a few blocks over, should also be on your St. Johns list of places to visit.)

Spread #2. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of an illustrated overhead view of two bowls of other ramen and other sides and foods.
Late-Night Ramen by Smith Street Books. 1,000 pieces.

I picked up this needlepoint puzzle (and a holiday-themed one I haven’t started yet) in October at Portland Puzzle Exchange‘s monthly event. It was my first time attending. There was a live band, free refreshments, and a lot of people—the line was through the community center that it’s held in, out the door, and down the block. It was sensory and social overload.

Spread #3. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of needlework letters and numbers in a grid pattern.
Needlepoint A to Z by Galion. 1,000 pieces.

This tarot card puzzle is double-sided, which I didn’t realize until I got home and was a little annoyed about. I thought it would make doing the puzzle unenjoyably challenging. Fortunately for me, both sides of the puzzle pieces were coated differently, which made it easier to distinguish which side of any given piece was the side I needed.

Spread #4. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of various cards from the tarot's major arcana, arranged in a grid.
Major Arcana (double-sided) by Galison, 500 pieces.

This Golden Girls puzzle was more challenging than I expected. Some of the pieces have a “normal” puzzle cut, some of them are shaped really strangely. The hair was the hardest part.

Spread #5. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of The Golden Girls seated for a portrait a la 1980s JC Penny-style photos.
The Golden Girls by USAOPOLY. 1,000 pieces.

This puzzle was a very unexpected and fun find—I walked into it on the sidewalk while on my way home one afternoon. It was with a stack of other puzzles, left beneath a Little Free Library in the neighborhood. Incredibly, no pieces were missing.

A stack of piles on a neighborhood sidewalk. The Golden Girls puzzle is on top.

It’s not uncommon to find free piles around the city. Portlanders (myself included) leave out all sorts of things—in various states of condition, and in various types of containers (or no container)—for others to take. There are almost always several free piles lining the sidewalk on my street, and I encountered a lot of free piles during my summer walks. This was the first time I came across puzzles. The Golden Girls puzzle is the only one I took and it’s for sure my favorite free pile find so far.

Show and tell mini album

Back when my now-high schooler was still in daycare, the daycare they went to did an alphabetically themed show and tell each week. Week 1 of the year the kids brought something that started with the letter A, week 2 of the year they brought something that started with the letter B, etc. At the time, I was at the heyday of my memorykeeping practice and I decided to make a mini album to document what my kiddo brought for show and tell each week/letter. 

The album's title page. A piece of square white card stock is centered on a 6-inch by 6-inch piece of scrapbooking paper with a floral design, and placed inside a 6-inch by 6-inch plastic page protector. Navy blue capital letters spelling out "SHOW" and "TELL" are affixed to the front of the page protector. Two piece of red and white striped washi tape make a plus-sign to read as the word "and" in "show and tell."

Their class at daycare was learning to write around this time and I wanted to document my kiddo’s handwriting and their progress with their penmanship throughout the course of the year too. So I did. Instead of using alphabet stickers to accompany/introduce each letter, I used my child’s handwriting. I had them use a stylus on my iPad each week to write that week’s letter. Then, I centered the letter on a 6”x6” canvas in Photoshop Elements, typed out whatever item they brought for that week/letter below their handwritten letter, and printed the page on plain white card stock that I cut down to fit in a 6”x6” page protector. For the facing page of each spread I used a photo of my kiddo holding the item they brought for that week/letter. 

I recently dug this album out of storage and flipped through it for the first time in years (a decade?). Opening it up, I knew I hadn’t finished it; I thought I’d made it through only the first few letters. Turns out (!), I made it to letter M. I’m definitely bummed that I left it unfinished, and I’m so happy that I made it through as much of this project as I did—I managed to document half the alphabet. Here’s a look inside.

The opening spread of the album. The letter "A" in my child's handwriting at the time is on the left page with the word "abacus" typed beneath it. On the facing page, a photo of my child holding up a "Let's Count!" board book that has an abacus attached to the top of it.

I know it might be hard for some to believe a child would know what an abacus is and choose to bring one to show and tell. Here’s the thing: We are a family of autistics.

The spread for letter "E." On the left page, the letter E in my child's handwriting at the time and "'everyone poops' book" typed beneath it. On the facing page, a photo of my child holding "Everyone Poops," a classic children's book. Fun fact, this particular copy belonged to their dad and bears all the ripped page corners and pen and pencil scribbles from his childhood.

Fun fact: This copy of the classic children’s book Everyone Poops belonged to my kiddo’s dad when he was a kid and comes complete with his ripped pages and pen and pencil scribbles throughout. This book, along with B.J. Novak’s modern classic The Book With No Pictures got a lot of laughs in those early years.

Spread for the letter "F." On the left page, the letter "F" in my child's handwriting at the time and "frank the fedora-wearing fossil" typed beneath. On the right page, a photo of my child holding a "fossil" of a dinosaur head with a black fedora atop it.

Frank!!! Frank was a “fossil” I bought for about $15 at HomeGoods when the kids were very young. He didn’t come with the fedora. That belonged to my youngest. Frank’s head became its home when it wasn’t on my son’s head. Frank was a beloved member of our family for many years. In 2021 we gifted him to a family with an autistic child who LOVED dinosaurs. (We thought Frank was fun and enjoyed having him around. Despite the autism, none of us were (or are) into dinosaurs in the autistic way.)

Spread for the letter "L." On the left page, the letter "L" in my child's handwriting at the time and "large leaf (fiddle leaf fig)" typed beneath it. On the facing page, a photo of my child holding an enormous fiddle leaf fig leaf that covers their entire face and most of their body. The leaf was from the tree we had in our home at the time.

What can I say? Like everyone with an Instagram account at the time, we had a fiddle leaf fig (and a monstera) in our home.

For this project I used an American Crafts cloth-covered album in seafoam (featuring one-of-a-kind accents of stains and smudges acquired from handling and storing and moving over the years). Sadly, this album is no longer available (sadly-er, many memorykeeping brands and supplies and forums and blogs have disappeared in recent years).

The front cover of the album, as described in the body of the post.

To the center of the front cover I affixed a metal-rimmed paper key tag sticker and then stuck a patterned alphabet sticker (blurred) of the letter of my child’s first name in the center of it. I bought a few packs of the paper key tag stickers from Michael’s years and years ago. I can’t find a listing for them on their website. Here’s a similar product from Amazon (sorry!) that you could use without the ring and with double-sided tape, or a double-sided foam sticker, or any strong glue.

For the title page (first photo at the top of the post) I cut down pieces of patterned scrapbook paper and white card stock, and used alphabet stickers and washi tape to spell out “show + tell.” At the time, I wasn’t sold on my title page so I stuck the stickers and tape to the outside of the page protector instead of the piece of white card stock. I wish now that I hadn’t. The alphabet stickers and washi tape are from a monthly scrapbooking kit that no longer exists (RIP). You can find a pretty big selection of alphabet stickers on Scrapbook.com or in-person at Michaels. You can find washi tape at a million places online and in-store at Target and Michaels and the like.

If I were to do this project again—or start it today—I would use a 4″x4″ album instead of a 6″x6″ one—and not just because no one seems to sell 6″x6″ albums anymore. Back in the day I chose the larger size because I thought 4″x4″ would be too small to document my child’s handwriting “enough” (does that make sense?). The smaller size would’ve been perfectly fine. You live and you learn. (Annoyingly, it seems you can’t buy a 6″x6″ album anymore but you can get 6″x6″ page protectors, and you can’t get 4″x4″ page protectors anymore but you can get a 4″x4″ album.)

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Related: There’s a monthly Show and Tell for Grown Ups Meetup in Portland that I think would be super fun to attend. I haven’t been able to make it yet. It’s a new group and they’ve had only two meetups so far, both on weekday evenings at times that are a few hours too late for me. If they ever do a daytime session on a Saturday or Sunday, I’m there.

Sending Smiles: a mini zine

This summer, I went for a lot of walks. I took tons of photos during those walks, including of the various sidewalk smiley faces I spotted. And then I made a mini zine of some of them 🙂

A sheet of paper with images of sidewalk smiley faces that hasn't yet been folded into a zine and a smiley face greeting card atop my desk.

This was my first-ever attempt at making a zine and I’m both pleased and surprised to report that I’m happy with how it turned out (a miracle). I used a single sheet of paper and followed this tutorial from Austin Kleon on how to fold and cut it (he rips his, I cut mine).

Before I started printing, I used an unfolded one-page zine from my collection to sketch a little diagram on a post-it note to make sure I ordered and oriented my pages correctly. Then, I made a template in Photoshop Elements. Because my regular-degular printer doesn’t do full-bleed printing, I fucked around a bit with the sizing and spacing of each page/rectangle layer in Photoshop to try to get the white border as uniform as possible on all sides of each page. Because I have zero actual art skills—I can’t sketch or draw or paint to save my life (sad!)—the front of the zine is a scan of the front of a greeting card from my collection that happens to very perfectly fit the smiley face theme.

I printed the front panel in color and the rest in black and white. The smiley faces in the last spread are a little hard to see in the accompanying photo—the one on the left is jack-o’-lantern-esque, the one on the right is in line with the cracks in the concrete. My favorite smilies are—in order—the one on the right side of the second spread (third pic below) and the one on the left side of the first spread (second pic below).

Front cover of my "sending smiles" mini zine, featuring the front of a smiley face greeting card that I scanned in and sized down to fit the zine.
First spread of my "sending smiles" zine. A different sidewalk smiley face is printed in black and white on each page.
Second spread of my "sending smiles" zine. A different sidewalk smiley face is printed in black and white on each page.
Third spread of my "sending smiles" zine. A different sidewalk smiley face is printed in black and white on each page.
Back cover of the "sending smiles" zine, featuring a peace sign, a heart, and a smiley face drawn into concrete.

Originally this mini zine was going to be an edition of one—it was going to be a gift for only my former roommate, to whom I texted all these photos in real time as I found them and who always enjoyed them so much. I decided to print a copy for another friend in New York after a recent long phone call that helped encouraged me to start making and memorykeeping and blogging again. And then I decided to also print copies for each of my three kids. For the two who aren’t currently here with me, I bought these fun smiley face greeting cards at Powell’s to send the zines in. So cute!

Two hot pink greeting cards with 5 rows of 4 yellow smiley faces each covering the front of the card.

Summer walks

One of the items on my 2024 summer bucket list was “go for more—and longer—walks” (meaning: “longer than the one-mile zig-zag that I sometimes do through my neighborhood”). And that I did. Beginning June 1 through September 15—my arbitrary “start of summer” and “end of summer” dates for this project—I walked about 215 miles.

While I did track roughly how many miles I walked out of curiosity, I wasn’t concerned with—and didn’t track—how many steps I took each day (I don’t even own a device that would do this) or how often I walked. This wasn’t an exercise goal for me. The idea behind this summer bucket list item was to spend more time outside, see more of Portland, and, for very predictable reasons (pollution, gas prices, maintenance costs), cut back on driving. And the fantasy of it was that I’d magically make friends and/or meet-cute the love of my life while out walking. I definitely spent more time outside and cut back on driving. I definitely didn’t magically make friends or meet-cute the love of my life. Sad!

I ran (heh) many of my errands this summer by walking: I walked to the library, to the pharmacy, to the post office, to the grocery store, to doctor appointments, to a haircut, to (and through!) parks and gardens and bookstores and cute shops full of things I both want and can’t afford. Some of those errands were less than a mile round-trip, others were closer to (or further than) ten. Many evenings I finished my day with a short two-mile loop around my neighborhood. Like many autistics, I struggle with transitions, even when they’re expected, planned, and/or wanted. I’ve found that walking a mile or two is a really good transition activity for my brain, especially at the end of the day.

I didn’t see as much of Portland via these walks as I’d hoped, in large part because I’m an extremely anxious and burnt-out autistic with very low and sensitive social and sensory batteries and tend to stick to what I know and what I know is my neighborhood and those immediately surrounding it.

My favorite part of these walks was finding little treasures along the way. Most of the things I found were on the ground. A few of them were hanging onto a telephone pole or wall by their last thread. I collected them all in a document box. I’m not yet sure what to do with it all aside from take a few flat-lay photos. Maybe a photo zine/book/album?

I really enjoyed this summer bucket list item. While I didn’t see as much of the city as I’d hoped, I did accomplish my goals of spending more time outside and cutting back on driving. Do I plan to keep at it? Absolutely. Will I walk as frequently or as far during the cold and wet months? Absolutely not. I don’t anticipate going on regular walks, and certainly not longer ones, until next spring.

(As much as I enjoyed my walks this summer, I would’ve rather spent the season hiking in the Gorge or the Coastal Range than walking in the city. I didn’t because I (1) prefer to hike alone, (2) had a few pretty intense and scary mental illness episodes while hiking alone throughout the 2022 season (the last time I went hiking) and haven’t felt safe hiking alone since, and (3) don’t know anyone to hike with while. Walking around the city, where I’m never very far from home and have plenty of people around to ask for help if I need it, seemed like a smart compromise.)

Truthfully, I’d like to graduate to biking around the city next year and, mental stability pending, save the walking for the hiking trails. Is it likely I’ll be mentally stable enough to return to hiking? Doubt. Do I have a bike? No. Do I know anyone I could borrow one from? Also no. Do I have the money to buy one? Definitely no. Did they just remove the BIKETOWN station that was inches from my apartment and with it some of the motivation and convenience to rent a bike? They did. Do I know how to ride a bike? I do. Do I know how to ride a bike in traffic? Absolutely not. Am I legitimately scared to try? Yes. Will I let any of those things stop me from trying? Almost certainly. We’ll have to wait till next year to find out.

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Although I’m wearing running shoes in the photo at the top of the post, I walked almost all of this summer’s 215 miles in a pair of Birks that I wore to the bone.

Could I buy a “better” shoe that’s specifically designed for walking? For sure. Do I want to? Hard no. I love my Arizonas. And of all the pairs I have (I have multiple pairs, some for wearing inside and some for wearing outside; they’re sensory heaven for my feet), I especially love this pair. I love that all the miles I walked in them and all the love I have for them is clearly evident with even the briefest glance at them.

Currently: September 2024

Back in the olden days of the internet, “currently” and “around here” posts were popular with us personal bloggers. Many of us published one (or both) of these posts once every month or two. Sometimes these posts were used as filler when we didn’t have anything else to blog about at the moment, or when a more meaty blog post wasn’t ready yet.

A fresh, beautiful, end-of summer bouquet of pink, orange, and white dahlias and snapdragons and lots of green filler plants.

A lot of us also used “currently” and “around here” posts to document the details of our daily life at that point in time—many of us were moms with babies and toddlers and used our blogs as a creative outlet and a documenting/memorykeeping tool. These posts were also a way to connect with each other and share things we were excited about or inspired by before social media and influencing took over and diluted the experience.

I loved reading other bloggers’ “currently” and “around here” posts, and I loved sharing my own. Now that I’m back to personal blogging à la the olden days of the internet, I figured it’s time to reintroduce the “currently” genre/series here. Here are some things currently happening in my life.

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COUNTING down the days (210) till season two of Severance

DELIGHTING in a Lindt LINDOR dark chocolate truffle before bed every night. 

DREAMING of living in a home that has laundry and a dishwasher and an HVAC system. Or even just one of those things. Imagine how much money and time and how many (metaphorical) spoons I’d save if I didn’t have to (1) wake up before sunrise every Sunday to make sure I get to the laundromat early enough to snag a washer and dryer and (2) fork over $10.25 per a load of laundry. Or if I didn’t have to wash every fucking dish and utensil by hand. Or if my home had heat and/or air in every room instead of only one (heat (which have only in the living room) or none (AC). A DREAM.

ENJOYING the few weeks of regular weather and temperatures Portland will get after a scorching-hot summer and before it turns wet and cloudy and cold for months and months on end. (For those who are unfamiliar: the 11 seasons of Oregon.)

EXPERIMENTING with drying bouquets. The internet told me to tie the stems tightly with twine (check) and hang the bouquet upside-down (check) in a dark space (check). The dark space, the internet says, is essential to keeping color. This bouquet is one I made at a flower arranging class over the summer. I tied it tightly with twine and hung it upside-down in our very dark and very tiny coat closet that’s home to many things, none of which are coats. This photo was taken several weeks later. I love how vibrant the colors still are.

A dried bouquet of flowers being held upside down by yours truly. The reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows of the flowers have retained their color pretty well after weeks of drying in a dark coat closet.

FINISHING up my first-ever block of conjugate training. Given how incredibly boring I generally find powerlifting to be, I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying. I think the variability and the novelty that it adds are keeping me interested.

LISTENING (again) to the podcast I Said No Gifts, which might just be my all-time favorite podcast, from the beginning. Bridger is so fucking funny.

LOOKING for a local shop to buy an old-school (and functional!) Walkman from. It’s the only thing my ninth-grader asked for for his birthday—I can’t not come through. (I’m also looking for at least one local repair shop that would be able to fix the thing if it broke.)

LOVING the end-of-summer bouquet I bought myself this week. (The flowers in this bouquet were grown and arranged by the same flower farmer and florist who grew and arranged the flowers in the gorgeous bouquet I brought to the Howells a few weeks ago. (Yes, I plan to dry this bouquet, too.)

The same fresh, beautiful, end-of summer bouquet of pink, orange, and white dahlias and snapdragons and lots of green filler plants featured above, just from a different angle.

MISSING running and hiking. Still/always. I recently found all my old race bibs while digging through boxes looking for something else, and I’ve been working on finishing up a hiking-related memorykeeping project, so that feeling has been especially acute lately.

MOURNING the hours of daylight fall has stolen (stolen!!!) from us (me, personally!!!). 

PREPARING to add weightlifting back into my training beginning Monday. I’m so goddamn excited. (This means I’ll have six barbell sessions a week—four powerlifting sessions and two weightlifting sessions. Mondays and Thursdays will have both a powerlifting and a weightlifting session. Tuesdays and Fridays will be just powerlifting.)

REALIZING that bouldering is much more challenging and difficult than I thought it was going to be. Am I even cut out for it? TBD.

Kelsey climbing up an easy route on an indoor bouldering wall.

STRESSING about—what else?—the election. 

TAKING photos for a new project I’ve dreamt up that was inspired by two different projects by two fellow local Redditors.

TRYING to get back into a regular memorykeeping routine with a weekly-ish Project Life album

WAITING (very impatiently!) for the two rolls of film I dropped off last week to be developed. Both rolls were from disposable cameras—one from nearly 20 years ago when my oldest was a toddler (the waterproof one) and another shot by my youngest a few summers ago. Will any of the photos on the oldest roll turn out? Who knows! I can’t wait to find out.

Holding two disposable cameras in my hand outside a local shop that still develops film on-site.

WANTING to visit Hopscotch Portland

WONDERING who will headline Warped Tour 2025. My vote always and forever is for blink-182. 

* * *

Of the bloggers I used to follow and admire and find inspiration from, Elise is the only one who’s kept her blog up, though she no longer blogs (she fully quit the internet last year). To get a better idea of these types of posts, you can browse through her old “currently” and “around here” posts here (click or tap “older posts” at the bottom of the page to keep browsing).

Pandemic Puzzles: a mini album

Years and years ago when the kids were very young and little, my then-partner and I did a lot of at-home date nights after the kids went to bed. Sometimes we’d sit out front and listen to random police scanners while eating dinner or sharing a six-pack. Sometimes we’d buy teeny bopper magazines and do all the quizzes in them while cuddled together on the couch. Sometimes we’d do “Puzzles and Podcasts Night,” which quickly became my favorite at-home date night activity and was exactly what it sounds like: We listened to podcasts while doing a puzzle together.

(Fun fact #1: The first podcast both of us ever listened to was season one of Serial—which had just been released and was a local-ish case (we were working in DC and living in the DC suburbs at the time)—and we listened to it while doing our first-ever puzzle together (Crowd Pleasers by Jan van Haasteren, no longer in print).)

Overhead view of a mostly unpuzzled 1,000-piece puzzle, with pieces arranged on two sheets of poster board on a carpeted floor. The box of the puzzle is on the floor between the two sheets of poster board.

A few years later we broke up and as the kids got older life became more hectic for me—a newly single parent—and I stopped doing puzzles. I simply didn’t have the time or the brain space.

And then the pandemic hit.

Since the start of the pandemic I’ve done 23 puzzles. Twenty-one of them are documented in this mini album. I don’t have any photos of the first one I completed during the pandemic (which my then-roommate and I completed as a distraction from the cold during a combination snow storm/power outage rather than as a leisurely activity for fun), and the most recent one I did, I just completed the other day, weeks after I ordered this first batch of photos; once I complete at least nine more puzzles I’ll order another batch of photos and keep adding to this little album.

I titled this project/album “Pandemic Puzzles.” Right now the album includes only a title page and photos of the puzzles in the order that I completed them. I plan to eventually add a puzzle log at either the beginning or the end, and if I can find numerical stickers or stamps that I like I’ll number each puzzle in the center of each left-hand page (and each numbered puzzle will correspond to an entry on the log). Technically that means this project is still incomplete. Whatever! I decided to post it because I don’t know if it will ever be properly finished and I’m trying very hard to (1) get back my memorykeeping mojo and (2) not let perfect be the enemy of good.

The title page is just the phrase “pandemic puzzles” typed directly onto vellum (yes, typed with an actual typewriter), which is overlaid on top of repurposed cream card stock. I had a handful of other ideas for the cover and ultimately decided on this very simple design (“design”) because all the pages inside are pretty visually heavy and busy. A simple title page feels like a good visual balance to me. If I ever change my mind on the title and/or the title page, it’s easy enough to change.

The title page of my "pandemic puzzles" album, open face up on a wooden table.

Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.

Puzzle details are in each photo’s caption. While I bought most of these puzzles from local stores within walking distance of my apartment, I linked each puzzle below directly to the brand or a puzzle seller. Many of these puzzles are probably available on Amazon for less than their list price. When possible, I encourage you to shop local or buy directly from the brand rather than Amazon.

All of the supplies I used to make this mini album are listed and linked at the bottom of the post. Again, when possible, when shopping for craft supplies I encourage you to shop local or from any retailer that isn’t Amazon or Hobby Lobby.

* * *

Spread #1. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a bunch of colorful pencils.
Vintage Pencils by Galison. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #2. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of astrological signs.
Cosmos Astrology by Galison. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #3. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of various colorful plant leaves in a realistic style.
Troy Litten Houseplant Jungle by Galison. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #4. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of various colorful plants in a very stylized manner.
Fantasy Garden #7 by Apostrophe Puzzles. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #5. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of various colorful desert plants in a very stylized manner.
Gabriella Laruccia Terra Viva by Jiggy Puzzles. 1,000 pieces.

These next five were picked out by and completed with two of my kids. My youngest is a big fan of the SpongeBob one and regularly checks in with me to make sure I haven’t gotten rid of it (I haven’t (I haven’t gotten rid of any of these puzzles)).

Spread #6. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a kitten sitting on a slice of pizza hurtling through space. A slice of pizza hangs from the kitten's mouth and rainbow lasers are shooting out of its eyes and into the distance. Burritos and tacos are floating around the kitten in space.
Cat Pizza by AQUARIUS Puzzles @ Puzzle Warehouse. 500 pieces.
Spread #7. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of very small and colorful illustrations of the entire cast of SpongeBob.
SpongeBob SquarePants Cast by AQUARIUS @ Puzzle Warehouse. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #8. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of various tropical flora and fauna.
Tropicale 1,000 Piece Jigsaw Puzzle by Cavallini & Co. @ Puzzledly,
Spread #9. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a Black woman posing as Rosie the Riveter, with her sleeve rolled up and her bicep flexed.
Rosie #1 by Apostrophe Puzzles. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #10. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of stylized illustrations of flowers, birds, and bunnies.
Genna Blackburn Birds & Bloom by Jiggy Puzzles. 500 pieces.

This mash-up of The Great Wave and Starry Night is one of the two most difficult and frustrating puzzles I’ve ever done. Most puzzles take me a day, maybe a weekend. This one took me months. I kept starting it and then shoving it under the couch for weeks at a time. Once, I even broke it down and put it back in the box (and the box in the back of the closet) after starting and stalling on it, which is not something I’d ever done before. I finished it out of spite.

Spread #11. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a mash-up of Hokusai's The Great Wave and van Gogh's Starry Night.
Starry Wave by Blue Kazoo. 1,000 pieces.

To top it all off (!!!), it was missing a piece. I reached out to the company and they weren’t able to send me just a replacement piece. They sent me an entire other puzzle and I had to dig through all the pieces to find the missing one and, lol, because of how the pieces are cut, it didn’t even fit!!! What an experience (derogatory).

A close-up of the final piece of the Great Wave puzzle, which didn't fit.

These next two were panoramic puzzles and, sadly, I had to crop out a decent chunk of the finished product to get them to fit on the page. The FANFUCKINGTASTIC one pairs well with this SHITSHOW one. The Sistine Chapel Ceiling one is a personal favorite.

Spread #12. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of large, colorful letters spelling out FAN FUCKING TASTIC.
FANFUCKINTASTIC by Fred. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #13. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling.
The Sistine Chapel Ceiling by Eurographics Puzzles. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #14. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of stylized Corgis painted as subjects in famous paintings.
Museum of the Corgi by Galison. 1,000 pieces.

Fun fact #2: I bought this boobs puzzle to do while recovering from getting a boob job in February 2022 (the irony of doing a “you’re perfect” puzzle while recovering from cosmetic surgery, I KNOW). I started it two days after surgery right as news broke that Russia invaded Ukraine. I listened to the news while I completed it, which felt like a full circle “puzzles and podcasts” moment of sorts.

Spread #15. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of stylized illustrations of different pairs of boobs. The phrase "you're perfect!" is hand-lettered twice in whitespace between the boobs.
You’re Perfect by The Found @ Got Beauty. 500 pieces.
Spread #16. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of millennial lotería cards.
Millennial Lotería El Puzzle by Millennial Lotería. 1,000 pieces.

This LEGO faces one was easier than expected.

Spread #17. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a bunch of tiny LEGO faces.
Minifigure Faces by LEGO. 1,000 pieces.

This next puzzle is the first one I completed this summer and it’s the one I counted as the “puzzle” item on my sad girl summer 2024 summer bucket list. I walked to Puddletown, a local game and puzzle shop a few miles from my apartment, to buy it, and, fun fact #3, that walk was the first one I counted toward my “go for more—and longer—walks” summer bucket list item.

Spread #18. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a stylized illustration of scenes from The Great Gatsby.
The World of The Great Gatsby by Laurence King Publishing @ Puzzledly. 1,000 pieces.
Spread #19. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a stylized illustration of a map of Portland with various points of interest represented with fun illustrations.
Portland by Birdie Puzzles. 1,000 pieces.

I have a whole thing about Marian iconography (it’s the autism), so this Virgin of Guadalupe puzzle is another personal favorite.

Spread #20. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of a the Virgin of Guadalupe.
The Virgin of Guadalupe by Gibbs Smith. 1,000 pieces.

It reminds me of the Marian art at the El Paso Museum of Art, especially that framed image on the top left, which, sadly, I didn’t take a full photo of, I’m sorry!!

A small figure of the Virgin of Guadalupe surrounded by small framed images of the same Virgin, on display at the El Paso Museum of Art, May 2022.

I love the imagery and creativity behind this parody puzzle. It’s by a local artist, Courtney Hiersche, who paints new scenes into existing paintings. I found it at Portland Night Market back in July. Along with the puzzle of the mash-up of The Great Wave and Starry Night, this is one of the two most difficult and frustrating puzzles I’ve ever done. It didn’t take me nearly as long as the Starry Wave puzzle but, just like with the mash-up puzzle, I absolutely did start it, then break it down and put it away before restarting and finishing it, which, just like with Starry Wave, I did out of spite.

Spread #21. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of an old painting of wealthy women and one man in 1800s-style clothing seated at a table playing Connect Four and surrounded by other modern-day games, like Uno and Twister.
Game Night by Courtney Hiersche. 1,000 pieces.

* * *

Supplies

  • Album: Limited edition acrylic album, no longer available (I bought a few different colors and sizes of these acrylic albums YEARS ago)
  • Binder rings: 8-count assorted pack from Target. ~$2.00 regardless of where you buy
  • Crop-a-dile hole puncher. ~$20.00 regardless of where you buy
  • Photos: 4 x 5.33-inch photographic prints from Persnickety Prints (janky website, unparalleled quality and customer service). $0.49 per (when you order less than 10), $0.44 per (when you order 10-19), $0.39 per (when you order 20 or more), plus $8.99 standard shipping (unless you live in or near Orem, UT, and can pick your photos up in person)
  • Photo adhesive: Tombow Mono Permanent Adhesive (used to adhere the backs of photos together to create pages). ~$10.00 regardless of where you buy

Sad girl summer: my 2024 summer bucket list

At the end of May I made a summer bucket list. I was feeling sad about how empty and flat and lonely my life feels as (1) an autistic person who (2) still takes COVID seriously (it is extremely lonely out here) and hoped that making a list of autism-friendly and COVID-safer things to do around town, and then working my way through the list, would help me feel more alive and less lonely and sad.

The back of a street sign in Portland, Oregon, with a white circular sticker that says "SAD GRL" in bubblegum pink.

My list ended up with 18 items on it. I completed (or completed-ish) 13 of them and plan to complete another one tomorrow, so I’m counting it as completed in the list below. Completed items are bolded. Completed-ish items are bolded and italicized.

  1. Archery
  2. Bouldering
  3. Bowling
  4. Cinnabon
  5. Farmer’s market, flea market, or estate sale
  6. Finish an art/craft/creative project
  7. Flower arranging class
  8. Go for more—and longer—walks
  9. Ice cream
  10. Local bookstore I haven’t been to yet
  11. Mini golf
  12. Museum
  13. Photo booth
  14. Photograph street art
  15. Pizza in the park
  16. Puzzle
  17. Sport/athletic activity I haven’t tried
  18. Tropical Smoothie

I also ended up doing/trying a few things that I didn’t know about when I first made the list: I stopped by an outdoor comedy night held at a park near my apartment, and, on a different evening at the same park, an original practice Shakespeare performance of A Midsommer Nights Dreame; I spent a couple hours at the Adult Soapbox Derby, a well-known Portland summer event held each year at a different park near my apartment; I went to the first night of Portland Night Market in July.

A view of the first few minutes of Portland Night Market in July 2024, as seen from above. A handful of tables with various goods such as clothing, jewelry, and baked goods are set up in the space and a few people are walking around.

Another main idea behind making this list was to not sit and spiral in my apartment all summer. Last summer was incredibly rough for me, in very large part because of (1) a health issue that triggered the most severe and prolonged flare of my most disabling mental illnesses that I’ve ever experienced (it’s been more than a year and I still haven’t recovered to baseline), and (2) the extreme heat, which prolonged and intensified that flare (extreme temps are one of my most reliable triggers for these particular mental illnesses). That whole episode—the health issue, the mental illness flare, the extreme heat—bled into other concurrent situations/experiences, which led to me becoming suicidal and, ultimately, quitting my job. That was my first (and hopefully only) experience with suicidality and I HATED being in that headspace. It was uncomfortable and scary and unsustainable.

I didn’t want a repeat this summer of how I felt last summer, so I made this list of things to do to help me get myself out of my head—and apartment!—when my brain started braining too frequently and/or intensely. In that regard, this list was a success.

A typical English garden front yard of a SE Portland home on a sunny, clear-sky day with a variety of brightly colored flowers and plants, some of which are crawling on a trellis fence.

I made it a point to think of this list as a menu of options of stuff to do when I had the time/money/spoons rather than a to-do list of items that all had to be checked off. I knew it was more likely than not that I wouldn’t complete the entire list and I didn’t want to feel bad about that or like I failed (or like I was the failure). I also steered clear of adding anything to the list that was primarily or exclusively about productivity (ew) or organizing/volunteering/advocating (things I do a lot of already). I wanted the list to be full of side quests that prioritized social, emotional, and/or intellectual sustenance—things that filled my cup more than they emptied it.

I hoped these little side quests would infuse some fun and joy into my life. Sometimes they did, though not as much or as often as I hoped they would. Honestly, as the summer went on, I became more angry and sad and full of grief about COVID and the parts of my life I’ve lost to it, and about how hard it is to be autistic, especially when everyone around you dismisses you as “high functioning” so you don’t get the help or support you need. By July I felt lonelier than I did at the start of summer a month earlier.

Reservoir #5 at the top of Mt. Tabor Park in Portland, Oregon, featuring a very blue sky and very green trees and grass. The reflection of the sky and trees in the water makes it appear a rich blue-green.

A lot of the stuff I did this summer, I did alone. While I’m used to and often enjoy doing things alone, it can feel really depressing sometimes when doing things alone is your only or primary option. So many of the things on this list would’ve been so much more enjoyable and fun and nourishing with a friend or a small group of friends. How, though? (Rhetorical.) It’s hard enough to make friends as an adult for people who aren’t autistic and/or who don’t still take COVID seriously. It feels impossible as someone who’s both.

A hopscotch and the sentence "It isn't all that bad." with a heart at the end, written in chalk on a neighborhood sidewalk. Spotted during one of my end-of-summer evening walks.

As shitty as I felt at times, the summer wasn’t a bust. Making and then tackling this list accomplished the goal of getting me out of my head—and my apartment!—and into the world, which helped mitigate the frequency and intensity of my mental illness flares.

Overall, I’m happy I did this project and I wish I had more—and local!—people in my life to share experiences and make memories with. Thanks to all the walks I went on this summer, I learned about a few still-COVIDing spaces and events in the city that I didn’t previously know about, which makes the idea of finding those people feel a little less impossible. We’ll see where fall takes me.

* * *

It would’ve made much more sense to post this list at the start of summer and then drop in with little updates here and there throughout the summer, I KNOW. Oh well. My plan is to share more details about some of the activities on the list that I completed (or completed-ish) in the coming weeks. And yes, I’m already working on a similar list ahead of the colder months so I can avoid as much temperature-induced spiraling year-round as I can.

Things Like That Don’t Happen Here: an unfinished project

CW: rape, sexual assault

I have a lot of ideas for creative projects that I don’t follow through on for one reason or another. Mostly because I have no confidence. And also because I often lack the knowledge, technical skills, and/or network (and requisite networking skills) needed to produce the projects I’ve dreamt up. This is one of those projects.

I call it Things Like That Don’t Happen Here. It’s the beginning of a collection of photos of places at which I’ve been raped and otherwise sexually assaulted—all very normal, regular, everyday places where “things like that,” people like to say and think and believe, don’t happen. Below are the first four photos I took for the project. (Unfortunately, and likely unsurprising to many, I’ve been raped and otherwise sexually assaulted at far more than these four places.)

Four Instax/Polaroid photos face up on a wooden desk. They're arranged in two rows of two photos each. Two photos depict the exterior of different apartment buildings. One photo depicts the inside cap of a pickup truck. The final photo depicts the inside of a public restroom.

I was inspired to create this project almost a decade ago (!!) by the touring art exhibit What Were You Wearing, which displays different outfits—all very normal, regular, everyday outfits—that people were wearing when they were sexually assaulted. “The exhibit is meant to challenge the idea that provocative clothing is the cause of the sexual assault, a stereotype used for victim blaming.” I wanted this project to do something similar. I still want that.

My vision is for this project to be ongoing and community-sourced—an always-accessible, online collection of photos (and maybe accompanying vignettes?) contributed (anonymously, of course) by anyone who wants to share the story of their own sexual assault(s) in this way. I have no idea how to organize or curate or fund such a project. Here’s hoping that publishing this post will help jump start the momentum/motivate me to figure it the hell out.