I love mums. I really do. They come in all kinds of colors, they make your curb appeal look all nice and fall-ish, and they look adorable with pumpkins and gourds.
Except…I have no pumpkins.
And no gourds.
And no covered porch.
So, there’s that.
Anyway, I read somewhere that fall asters are better for attracting pollinators, and since I already have native asters growing in the garden, I figured, What’s the harm in adding a few more?
Then I went to the garden center.
And there were pollinators all over the asters.
HOW FREAKING COOL IS THAT?!
So naturally, I bought a few.
I had a vision.
I knew exactly where I was going to put them. I could already picture how darn fall-ish the garden was going to look.
I brought them home, went into the garden, and randomly placed them in their pots where I thought they looked good.
And they did look good.
So…I stopped.
🤣
It has been raining a lot lately, which means those asters have now been sitting exactly where I put them for a few weeks.
Untouched.
Still blooming.
And honestly?
They’re doing just fine.
The rain has also meant I haven’t had to go out and water the garden every afternoon, so I’m not complaining.
Adulting is hard to comprehend sometimes. LOL.
One minute you’re excited because you have pretty new plants for the garden.
The next minute you’re standing there thinking, Thank God it rained so I don’t have to water anything.
And somewhere along the way, my carefully imagined vision for where those asters were supposed to go has completely disappeared from my brain.
Gone.
Evaporated.
Apparently filed under Things Past Me Thought Present Me Would Remember.
Instead, my brain is busy with:
What shall we have for dinner?
What other fires do I need to put out at work?
Dang, I’m so tired today. My brain is fried.
You know. Life.
Life is life-ing.
Meanwhile, the asters are just sitting there waiting for me.
The main group is all together, patiently waiting in their pots to be replanted.
They are basically the most cooperative members of this entire gardening operation.
They’re like, “No rush, ma’am. We’ll just be over here blooming.”
And then there are the other two.
The two scattered asters.
🤣🤣🤣
Those two have apparently decided they don’t need to be part of the group project.
They’re just out there doing their own thing.
No meeting.
No agenda.
No regard for the master plan.
Meanwhile, Past Me had a VISION™ for all of them.
Present Me has misplaced that vision somewhere between What’s for dinner? and What fresh work fire is this?
So here we are.
No pumpkins.
No gourds.
No beautifully styled fall porch.
No strategically placed basket of blankets.
Because, again, we don’t have a covered porch, and I’m pretty sure putting blankets outside in the rain would not be the cozy fall aesthetic I’m going for.
Just asters.
Some together.
Two wandering around like they’ve gone rogue.
And me, apparently in charge of Aster Management™.
Exhibit A:The Main Group — patiently waiting together in their pots.Exhibit B:The Two Rebels — scattered somewhere else, apparently having resigned from the group project.
For now, they’re blooming.
The pollinators are happy.
The garden is getting rain.
I’m getting a little break from watering.
And apparently, this is my fall decorating.
🤣
You know what?
That’s okay.
Sometimes you have a vision.
Sometimes life has other plans.
Sometimes you buy the flowers and that’s as far as you get.
And sometimes the flowers are perfectly happy to wait for you to remember what the heck you were going to do with them.
There are certain moments in life when you realize that you are completely unprepared for what is happening in your own house.
This was one of those moments.
It started out as a completely normal evening.
I came home, and my husband was upstairs ripping out the carpet in the hallway. We live in a tri-level, so one of the nice things about our house is that it is really easy to keep track of where everyone is.
My husband was upstairs.
My son was downstairs in the dining room eating snacks.
Don’t judge me and my son’s life choices. He was hungry. He needed snacks. This is not the part of the story we are here to discuss.
I had just given Finn, our dog, his ice cream treat, so he wandered off toward the fireplace.
Everything was normal.
Until Finn started whining.
At first, I thought he wanted another treat.
I mean, I had just given him one.
I basically told him, “Dude. You just got ice cream.”
But Finn wasn’t looking at his empty ice cream cup.
He was looking at the fireplace.
And that’s when I thought:
Oh, God. What is in there?
Then I heard it.
Scratching.
Something was actually in the fireplace.
My son heard it, too.
We immediately yelled for his dad.
“There is something in the fireplace!”
And this is where my brain decided to skip approximately seventeen reasonable steps and go straight to disaster.
Because obviously, once we opened that fireplace door, whatever was in there was going to come flying out at us.
I would panic.
I would start swatting at the floor with absolutely no direction or purpose.
I would probably hit my husband with whatever object happened to be in my hand.
The dog would start barking.
Then he would chase the poor terrified creature around the house.
The creature would run around even more because now it was being chased by a barking dog and three screaming humans.
Finn would probably bite it.
Then we’d have to go to the vet to check for rabies.
My husband would have a concussion because I had accidentally hit him in the head with a broom handle.
We’d have to call professionals.
Someone would probably ask why we didn’t just open the door.
And honestly, I don’t know.
So I did what any sensible woman would do.
I went into the garage and found an empty box.
Because obviously, if a critter was going to come flying out of the fireplace, the most logical thing was to provide it with a box.
I also informed my husband that I should probably not be standing anywhere near him when he opened the fireplace door because I didn’t think that was going to bode well for either of us.
We were prepared.
Finn got another treat so he would go upstairs to the bedroom.
The box was ready for the critter to jump into instead of onto one of us.
My husband put on gloves.
We were ready.
He opened the fireplace door.
Nothing came out.
Instead, whatever was in there went higher up into the flue.
My husband closed the door and started jiggling the flue opener back and forth.
And then—
DROP.
The critter fell.
Into our fireplace.
Inside our house.
Our son, right on cue, asked:
“Where is it now?”
My husband said, “Well, it’s in our house now!”
Fantastic.
Our son then asked the question we were all wondering.
“What is it?”
My husband looked at it and said:
“It’s a squirrel.”
THANK GOD.
It’s a squirrel.
Not a raccoon.
Not a possum.
Not some unidentified creature from the depths of the fireplace that would eventually require an exterminator, a priest, and possibly a new house.
It’s a squirrel.
And because apparently we needed to make this situation even more personal, my husband decided to name him.
Mr. Squirrel.
I don’t know where that came from.
I don’t know why he needed a name.
But apparently, once you have a squirrel inside your house, you become the kind of family that names the squirrel.
So now we had Mr. Squirrel.
My husband tried to coax Mr. Squirrel into the box.
Mr. Squirrel was not interested.
He was scared.
He had just fallen out of a fireplace into a strange house filled with humans and a dog who had been relocated upstairs.
I can’t really blame him.
So Mr. Squirrel decided he had other plans.
He left the fireplace.
And that’s when things got interesting.
Because now there was an actual squirrel running around our house.
Mr. Squirrel, excuse me.
It looked like a pinball machine to me.
You know when you’ve been holding that little lever forever and then finally let it go and the pinball shoots around the machine at approximately the speed of light?
That was Mr. Squirrel.
He was zooming around our house with absolutely no idea where he was going.
At one point, he sprinted directly toward me.
I screamed.
Like, really screamed.
I told my son to get out of Mr. Squirrel’s path.
That obviously worked about as well as everything else we had planned.
So we moved on to Plan B.
Or C.
Or D.
Honestly, we were running out of letters.
We opened the front door.
Except we have a screen door.
Because of course we do.
Mr. Squirrel could see the way out, but he couldn’t actually get out.
So onto the next plan.
We opened the garage door.
Which was near me.
So there I was, holding the door open and using it as a shield between myself and a squirrel approximately the size of a baked potato.
I don’t know what I thought the door was going to do if Mr. Squirrel decided to come after me.
But apparently I felt safer behind it.
Meanwhile, my husband was trying to reason with him.
“Come on, Mr. Squirrel. We know you’re scared. That’s not the way out.”
Sir.
Mr. Squirrel is a squirrel.
I don’t think he understands the concept of following directions.
Every time Mr. Squirrel came anywhere near me, I started screaming again.
At this point, our neighbors probably thought I was practicing for an opera audition.
I was not.
I was being pursued by Mr. Squirrel.
Eventually, Mr. Squirrel apparently decided that he had seen enough of our house.
He found the open garage door.
He ran through it.
And off into the night he went.
And just like that, it was over.
Mr. Squirrel was free.
Our house was squirrel-free.
Everyone survived.
No one was bitten.
No one needed stitches.
My husband did not suffer a concussion from an errant broom handle.
The dog did not get to chase a squirrel around the house.
And I did not have to explain to an emergency veterinarian why I was standing there holding a squirrel-shaped box.
So what did we learn from this experience?
That sometimes Plans A, B, C, D, E, F, and G aren’t enough.
Especially when your unexpected houseguest is a terrified squirrel who has just dropped down your fireplace and decided to explore the entire house at approximately 900 miles per hour.
Also, apparently, if a squirrel drops into your fireplace, you should have an empty box nearby.
I don’t know if that’s an actual wildlife recommendation.
But it felt right at the time.
The only other thing I know for sure is that our dinner was late that night.
Last autumn, I planted some native plant seeds because apparently there is a thing called cold stratification.
Say that ten times.
Cold. Stratification.
Basically, some native plant seeds need a period of cold before they can germinate. Mother Nature apparently decided that simply being a seed wasn’t enough. They needed to spend some time freezing their little seed butts off first.
So, being frugal here, I swapped some seeds with other people instead of going out and buying a bunch. I made sure those seeds were in the ground before the first frost of the year.
Perfect.
I had a plan.
Well… sort of.
If you’ve ever seen some native plant seeds, you know how ridiculously tiny they can be. We’re talking minute. Trying to space them properly is almost impossible. And because I didn’t have a whole lot of each variety to begin with, I figured I’d just scatter them where I wanted them and call it good.
And then there was my second mistake.
I thought, “I’ll remember what I planted.”
I mean, come on. There weren’t that many seeds.
I knew what I planted.
I knew where I planted them.
I would obviously remember.
Pfft.
So there I was, happily sowing my tiny little native plant seeds into the ground, completely unconcerned about labeling anything.
Because why would I need labels?
I was going to remember.
Sure.
And Then Spring Happened
So here I am, looking at the space where I planted my seeds.
Some were sprouting.
Some weren’t.
Which meant that, at first, my flower bed had these weird little bald spots where absolutely nothing seemed to be happening.
Then the weather finally stayed consistently warm enough for me to clean up all the dried leaves from the previous season.
And that’s when I started seeing more little plants popping up.
Okay!
We’re growing!
Except…
I stood there looking at the flower bed and thought:
“Are these weeds, or are these the native plants I planted?”
I had zero idea.
Everything was coming up at once.
There were tiny little plants everywhere, and I couldn’t tell which ones I had intentionally put there and which ones had apparently decided to move into my flower bed without paying rent.
So I did what any responsible gardener would do.
I left them all alone.
😂
I wasn’t about to pull out a perfectly good native plant just because I couldn’t remember what it looked like.
So I watered them. I took care of them. I watched them.
Basically, I became a responsible gardener to a group of plants whose identities I could not confirm.
And then things got even more interesting.
Because every so often, another plant would just shoot up.
And I’d look at it and think…
“What are you?”
Were you here last year?
Did I plant you?
Did you just decide to show up?
I honestly couldn’t remember seeing some of these plants being this big last year.
And then one day, I’d look at something that was already ridiculously tall and think:
“Like, what the heck, dude? It’s spring and you’re already as tall as me! WHAT ARE YOU?”
At this point, my garden had basically become a mystery box.
I planted native seeds.
I apparently planted some things I remembered.
I apparently planted some things I didn’t remember.
And there were definitely some things growing that I was pretty sure I didn’t plant.
Which brings me to the problem I had created for myself:
I had absolutely no idea what I planted here.
And Then Summer Happened
So summer rolled around.
And some of them were already blooming.
FINALLY.
And suddenly, I started remembering.
“Oh! I know what you are!”
That one had orange flowers. I remember you!
And that one had yellow flowers!
Ohhh, yeah. You’re a coneflower! I remember you now!
It was like my garden was slowly handing me the answers to a test I had apparently forgotten studying for.
But there were still some plants in there that I couldn’t quite figure out.
Because, duh…
They hadn’t bloomed yet.
It’s summer, hello!
Are you just going to grow and grow and grow and not bloom at all?!
What exactly is your plan here?
Your brothers and sisters are out there doing their thing, blooming, attracting bees and butterflies, feeding the bugs like they’re supposed to…
And you’re just standing there.
Growing.
Taking up space.
Getting taller.
Doing absolutely nothing helpful for my memory.
WHAT ARE YOU?!
So, like any responsible gardener who has completely lost track of what she planted, I turned to Google.
I took pictures.
I uploaded them.
And basically asked:
“What is this?”
Google came back with:
Maybe an early sunflower?
Okay.
Maybe.
And again:
What is this?
Looks like an aster.
Okay… maybe.
And that’s when I realized that I had somehow managed to create a garden where I was not entirely sure what was growing in it.
But here’s the thing.
I didn’t hate it.
Actually, I kind of loved it.
Because instead of knowing exactly what was going to happen, I had to wait.
I had to watch.
I had to see what grew, what bloomed, what attracted bugs, and what turned out to be something I had completely forgotten I planted.
Every new flower became a little reunion.
“Oh! I remember you!”
And every plant that hadn’t bloomed yet?
Well…
You and I were still going to have a conversation.
And Now We’re Nearly in Autumn
And now we’re nearly in autumn.
Some are still blooming.
Some have already lost their blooms.
Some were completely devoured by the bugs—which, honestly, is exactly what I wanted to happen.
Some are still in the process of blooming, taking their sweet time while I stand there wondering when they’re finally going to show me what they are.
And apparently…
I planted a whole bunch of asters.
Yes.
That’s what they are.
Now that they’ve finally started showing themselves, I can recognize them.
Of course I can.
Where was this knowledge when I needed it in the spring?!
Don’t get me wrong. There are still plants out there that I have absolutely no idea what they are.
And you know what?
I’m okay with that.
They’re growing.
They’re blooming when they’re ready.
They’re getting eaten by bugs.
They’re attracting pollinators.
They’re becoming part of the little ecosystem I’ve been trying to create in my garden.
So I leave them alone.
I don’t need to know the name of every single plant growing in my flower bed.
Apparently, I just need to know enough to know when not to pull it out.
And maybe that’s the funny thing about this whole experiment.
I started with a bunch of tiny seeds, a vague memory of where I planted them, and an unreasonable amount of confidence that I would remember what everything was.
I didn’t.
Not even close.
But somehow, it worked.
The plants came up.
Some I recognized immediately.
Some took months to introduce themselves.
Some required Google.
And some are still keeping their identities a secret.
But they’re all doing something.
They’re growing. They’re blooming. They’re feeding the bugs. They’re attracting pollinators. They’re filling in those bald spots I worried about in the spring.
And next year?
I’ll probably label everything.
Probably.
No, not really. I know myself. I won’t label them.
Because then, next spring, I get to experience the exact same kind of chaos all over again.
When we moved into this house, the kitchen was basically not a kitchen.
Kidding.
It was a kitchen.
It was just a very small kitchen.
The cabinets were basically one row above the sink, and you had to open one cabinet door before you could close the one next to it. You know…because apparently cabinets don’t need to get along. 😂
And counter space?
Let’s just say there wasn’t much.
If you were cooking and had dishes sitting around from your mise en place, you better wash those things QUICK because you were going to need that same tiny countertop to put the food you just cooked on.
It worked.
But it could definitely work better.
So we decided this was a project we needed to tackle.
The before….
Enter IKEA
Off to IKEA we went.
For starters, we decided to get a kitchen island and a tall pantry cabinet for one of the walls. We figured that would give us some extra storage and counter space until we were ready to tackle the other part of the kitchen.
We also rearranged where the refrigerator and water dispenser would go.
Then, while I was browsing IKEA’s website, I discovered their project planner.
And that’s when things got interesting.
Because apparently, IKEA thought it would be a good idea to give me the ability to design my own kitchen on a computer.
Tinker I did.
I made sure the dimensions and square footage of the kitchen were right. I moved things around. I changed things. I looked at it.
Then I changed it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
I would come home from work, sit at my computer, and work on my kitchen.
One good thing about our kitchen was that it was basically just one wall.
But that’s also the thing.
Imagine if it wasn’t.
I probably would have spent YEARS trying to figure out what I wanted that kitchen to look like and never actually gotten around to enjoying the finished kitchen.
So I kept tinkering.
And tinkering.
And tinkering.
I think I redid that kitchen project A LOT.
And when I say A LOT, I mean A LOT.
I’m pretty sure my husband was starting to lose his patience somewhere around revision number 100.
Finally, he looked at the latest version and basically said, “It looks good.”
Now, when my husband says, “It looks good,” that’s my signal.
That’s the sign that I should stop.
BUY THE FREAKING CABINETS.
So that’s what we did.
The Computer vs. Real Life
We had everything delivered instead of renting a U-Haul and trying to haul all those pieces home ourselves.
And thank goodness for this: all the cabinets and accessories I added to the project were included in the cost and delivered.
That made my life SO much easier.
Then the boxes arrived.
And suddenly, the nice little kitchen I had been moving around on my computer became a very real pile of stuff sitting in our house.
That’s when I discovered something IKEA’s project planner doesn’t really prepare you for:
Moving cabinets around on a computer screen is VERY different from moving real cabinets around a kitchen.
On the computer, you click, drag, and voilà!
Cabinet moved.
In real life?
Not quite.
Real cabinets are heavy.
Real cabinets don’t magically snap into place.
And suddenly you’re dealing with walls, floors, measurements, gravity…
…and water.
Because, you know, the sink needs water.
Otherwise, the sink isn’t going to be all that useful. 😂
Apparently, when you’re moving things around in a virtual kitchen, it’s easy to forget that some of those things have actual plumbing attached to them.
Who knew?
Divide and Conquer, Baby!
We weren’t professionals.
Obviously.
But we figured we could do this ourselves.
So we divided and conquered.
My husband took out the old cabinets while I assembled the new ones.
And I assembled.
And assembled.
And assembled.
By the end of the day, I could barely open and close my hands.
I’m pretty sure I was assembling cabinets in my dreams.
Talk about a nightmare. 😂
We just kept going.
Eventually, the cabinets were done.
Then came the countertop.
Then the tile.
Because apparently, finishing the cabinets didn’t mean we were finished.
At that point, I was running on fumes.
But we soldiered on for the love of DIY.
And, let’s be honest, because having someone else do it meant paying someone else to do it.
That wasn’t really in the budget.
So…
Down more coffee.
Maybe an energy drink.
And let’s do this thing!
The during…
And You Know What?
We did.
By the time everything was finished, we were pretty darn happy with how it looked.
Was it a huge kitchen?
Nope.
But that wasn’t what we were trying to accomplish.
We weren’t trying to completely change the layout of the kitchen.
We were trying to make the space we already had more efficient.
And we did.
We had more counter space.
We had more storage.
And we could actually use the kitchen without feeling like we were playing countertop Tetris every time we cooked.
That felt like a win.
So, What Did We Discover?
For starters, I discovered that I can apparently redesign a kitchen approximately 100 times before finally deciding that the latest version is good enough.
My husband discovered that saying “It looks good” can apparently bring an end to the process.
We discovered that computer cabinets and real cabinets are two very different things.
We discovered that IKEA cabinets have a LOT of pieces.
And I discovered that I apparently have the ability to assemble so many cabinets that I can continue doing it in my sleep.
Most importantly, though, we discovered that we could actually do a pretty big project together without killing each other.
That’s saying something, right? 😂
Would we do another project like this?
I think so.
But not in the near future.
We survived this one.
We don’t need to get cocky.
And maybe that’s one of the things I like most about this kitchen.
It isn’t huge.
It isn’t some giant kitchen transformation.
It’s just our kitchen, made a little more functional for the way we live.
Sometimes you don’t need to completely change something.
You just need to figure out how to make what you already have work better.
And if you can do that while keeping your marriage intact?
I have a complicated relationship with face powder.
I want my skin to look smooth and blurred. I want my makeup to stay put. I want to keep the shine under control.
But I absolutely do not want to look like I put a layer of drywall over my face.
So naturally, I started experimenting.
My powder problem
My skin is oily, my pores are visible, and I have some leftover hyperpigmentation from acne. None of that bothers me enough to hide my face under a full-coverage mask—but it does mean that finding the right powder can make a pretty big difference in how my makeup looks throughout the day.
For a long time, I had a favorite.
Soap & Glory One Heck of a Blot.
That powder was my gold standard.
It kept me matte without making me feel like I was wearing a ton of makeup, and it helped blur the appearance of my pores without making my skin look completely flat.
Basically, it worked.
And then, because apparently the beauty gods enjoy watching me suffer, they discontinued the darn thing.
For God knows why.
Seriously.
Why do companies discontinue the things that actually work?
So now I had a problem.
I needed a replacement.
Enter: the powder experiment
I started trying different powders, looking for something that could take One Heck of a Blot’s place.
And I quickly learned that not all “matte” powders are created equal.
Some powders start out beautifully.
You put them on, admire your freshly powdered face, and think:
Ohhhhhh. We might have a winner.
Then noon rolls around.
And that’s when some powders apparently decide to come knocking at my face.
“Excuse me. You need shine!”
No.
No, I really don’t.
But apparently the powder disagrees.
Suddenly, there is shine.
And not even the nice, healthy-looking kind.
Just enough shine to remind me that my face is, in fact, producing oil.
And then there was the powder itself.
Instead of disappearing into my skin and doing its job, some of it seemed to just sit there.
Like goo.
So now I’m shiny and wearing a visible trail of the powder that was supposed to stop me from being shiny in the first place.
Fantastic.
😂
What I was actually looking for
At this point, I realized I wasn’t simply looking for a “matte powder.”
I wanted a very specific combination:
Oil control
A blurred look around my pores
Lightweight feel
No cakiness
No weird buildup
And, ideally, something that still looks like skin several hours later
That last part became especially important.
Because I don’t want to look at my face at 8 a.m. and think, Wow, this looks great! only to discover at lunchtime that my makeup has formed its own ecosystem.
The ingredient rabbit hole
Of course, I couldn’t just try powders and move on with my life.
I started looking at ingredients.
That sent me down the rabbit hole of oil-absorbing ingredients, including aluminum starch.
And suddenly I wasn’t just comparing powders anymore.
I was researching why some powders seemed to control oil better than others.
This is how I end up spending my time.
One minute I’m putting powder on my face.
The next I’m reading ingredient lists like I’m preparing a scientific dissertation.
😂
My testing rules
I started paying attention to what actually happened after applying each powder.
Not just the first five minutes.
I wanted to know what happened hours later.
Did it still control shine?
Did it settle into my pores?
Did it become cakey?
Did the powder disappear nicely into my skin—or was it still sitting on top of my face?
And when noon came around, did I still like what I saw?
Because that’s the real test for me.
I don’t need a powder to make me look perfect at 8 a.m.
I need it to behave itself after I’ve been wearing it for a while.
The benchmark
Everything kept coming back to One Heck of a Blot.
That was my comparison point.
Not because it was perfect.
Not because somebody online told me it was a holy grail.
It was my benchmark because I actually used it, and I knew what it did on my face.
That’s an important distinction.
I’m not interested in finding the “best powder” according to the internet.
I’m interested in finding the powder that works best for me.
And after trying different options, I’ve learned that my definition of a good powder is much more specific than I thought.
So… did I find a replacement?
That’s the question, isn’t it?
I found powders that did some things well.
I found powders that looked promising at first and then completely betrayed me by lunchtime.
I found powders that controlled shine but left me feeling too powdered.
And I found myself comparing everything to that discontinued little beauty that apparently had the audacity to work exactly the way I wanted.
One Heck of a Blot is still the powder to beat.
But this experiment has taught me something more useful than simply finding a replacement.
I’ve learned what I actually want from my powder.
I want less shine.
I want softer-looking pores.
I want a lightweight feel.
And I want my makeup to still look like my face several hours later.
Not a powdered face.
Not a cakey face.
Not a shiny face with powder goo making a guest appearance.
Just my face.
And maybe that’s the whole point of these beauty experiments.
I’m not a beauty expert.
I’m not trying to tell you what you should buy.
I’m just curious.
I see something that might solve a problem, I try it, I pay attention to what happens, and then I decide whether it earned a permanent place in my routine.
Sometimes it does.
Sometimes it absolutely does not.
And sometimes the product I loved gets discontinued for God knows why, leaving me wandering through the powder aisle wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
😂
So the search continues.
And if you have a powder recommendation that you think I should try, please send it my way!
There are times—actually, most of the time—when I’m cleaning an area of the house and I find something that shouldn’t be there.
You know the kind of thing I’m talking about.
It’s not trash. It’s not something I don’t need. It’s actually something important.
So, naturally, I do the responsible thing.
I put it somewhere safe.
And then I lose it.
Not immediately, of course. That would almost be too easy.
No. I put it somewhere that I am absolutely, positively certain I will remember.
“This is a safe place,” I tell myself.
“I’ll remember this.”
Future Me has apparently never been consulted about this arrangement.
The Case of the Missing Universal Plug
A perfect example happened with one of our universal travel plugs.
We travel with it because, well, it’s a universal travel plug. It comes with us when we’re packing for a trip, and it’s one of those things you don’t want to discover is missing when you’re standing in your hotel room in another country.
So imagine me cleaning up a bedroom.
I find the plug sitting somewhere it shouldn’t be.
Rather than leaving it there, because I’m trying to be a responsible adult who keeps things organized, I put it somewhere safe.
Somewhere I won’t forget.
Or so I thought.
Fast-forward to the next time we’re packing our luggage.
I need the universal plug.
I know we have it.
I’ve seen it.
I have personally picked it up.
And yet…
Where the heck is it?
Suddenly I’m searching through drawers, cabinets, closets, random containers and every other place I could possibly have put it.
And the most frustrating part?
Before I cleaned up that bedroom, I probably saw the thing all the time.
It was right there.
In the wrong place.
Annoying me.
Waiting for me to put it away.
But now that I’ve actually cleaned up the room and put everything where it supposedly belongs, I can’t find the one thing I’m looking for.
Apparently, I made it too safe.
The “Safe Place” Is Not Actually Safe
This has happened more times than I care to admit.
I’ll find something while cleaning and think, Oh, this shouldn’t be here.
So I move it.
I put it somewhere logical.
Or somewhere that makes sense in that particular moment.
And then I completely forget where that logical place was.
Sometimes I’ll even remember the thought process.
I moved it because I didn’t want to lose it.
Great.
Where did I move it?
No idea.
And that’s when I start retracing my steps like I’m investigating a crime scene.
Okay… I had it in this room.
Then I picked it up.
Then I was cleaning this.
Then I thought, “I should put this somewhere safe.”
And that’s it.
The trail goes cold.
The item has entered witness protection.
Is It Just Me?
This is the part where I started wondering:
Is this just me?
Because surely I’m not the only person who has a designated “safe place” that is apparently so safe that even I can’t find it.
And if you have ever cleaned your house, moved something important somewhere “better,” and then spent 45 minutes looking for it later, you already know where this is going.
There may actually be a reason our brains do this.
When we’re cleaning or putting something away, our attention is often focused on the bigger task rather than creating a detailed memory of exactly where we’re placing one particular object.
And when we put something somewhere unusual—especially because we’re trying to make sure we don’t lose it—we may not create the kind of strong memory that helps us retrieve that location later.
In other words, our brain may basically say:
Got it. Thing is safe.
And then immediately move on.
Thanks, brain.
Very helpful.
Maybe Future Me Needs a Little More Help
I’ve started to wonder if the problem isn’t necessarily that I’m forgetful.
Maybe the problem is that I keep assuming Future Me knows what Present Me was thinking.
Present Me:
“I’ll put this right here. I’ll definitely remember.”
Future Me:
“Who are you?”
😂
Maybe the solution isn’t another storage container, another organizational system or another drawer labeled “IMPORTANT.”
Maybe I just need to stop creating mysterious little hiding places and calling them “safe.”
Because apparently, a safe place is only useful if I can actually find it again.
Until then, perhaps what I really need is a button.
A big one.
Right in the middle of the house.
WHERE THE HECK IS THIS?
Press it.
The house pauses.
A tiny alarm goes off.
A voice from somewhere in the ceiling says:
“You put it in the drawer under the printer.”
And I would like to formally request that technology make this happen.
Until then, I’ll keep looking.
And when I finally find that universal plug?
I’m putting it somewhere I’ll definitely remember.
When I think back on our first family trip to Japan, there are so many things that come to mind.
The food. The trains. The walking. Getting lost. The little discoveries around every corner. The moments when we looked at each other and thought, Are we really in Japan right now?
And then there are the places that gave us memories we know we’ll be talking about for a long time.
A Day at Universal Studios Japan
For my husband and my son, this was their first time visiting a Universal Studios theme park, so you can imagine how excited they were.
We kept an eye on the weather and got our entrance tickets through Klook for a day when it wasn’t supposed to rain. Getting there meant taking the train—and remember that Kansai Pass we had? We definitely put that thing to work. We used it to get around throughout our trip, and Universal Studios was another place where it came in handy.
One of the coolest parts actually happened before we even got there.
As we were riding the train, we started seeing people dressed in Hogwarts uniforms.
Hogwarts uniforms.
On the train.
Heading to Universal Studios Japan.
Looking back, we absolutely should have brought our son’s Harry Potter costume. What were we thinking?! 😂
Once we arrived, we basically made a whole day of it. We went through as many sections as we could and rode whatever rides made sense for us. We did have to be selective because of my son’s scoliosis, so we couldn’t just jump on every ride we saw. We had to choose wisely.
But there was still plenty to see and do.
Our favorite section was Harry Potter. Of course it was. Walking around that area really did feel like stepping into another world, and seeing our son enjoy it made the whole experience even better.
Another highlight for him was WaterWorld. He had a blast watching the live-action scenes, and it was one of those moments where you could tell he was completely caught up in what was happening.
Jurassic World was another favorite.
We stayed all day, ate lunch inside the park, continued exploring, and didn’t make our way home until it was nighttime.
Exhausted? Absolutely.
Worth it?
Absolutely.
It was one of those days where you know you’ve made a family memory.
When Old Japan Meets Modern Osaka
Osaka Castle was a completely different experience.
You probably don’t need an entire day for Osaka Castle. You can spend half a day—or a little more—and have plenty of time to take it all in.
What struck me most was the setting.
It almost felt like the castle was sitting in the center of the city, surrounded by everything modern Osaka has to offer. Shops, restaurants, buildings, people going about their day—and then, right there in the middle of it all, this massive historic castle surrounded by two moats.
It was such a cool contrast.
Getting to the castle grounds meant a lot of walking, including quite a bit of walking uphill. And apparently, Japan had decided that our trip needed to include ALL THE WALKING. 😂
Along the way, there were vendors selling snacks, food and drinks, which was definitely appreciated after making our way uphill.
As we got closer, I couldn’t help but think about how this place was built centuries ago without the machinery and technology we have today.
How did they build something like this?
It looked incredibly well fortified, and standing there, it wasn’t hard to imagine samurai guarding the castle and people living within those walls hundreds of years ago.
We didn’t go inside the castle itself. The line was long, and there was an additional entrance fee, so we decided to stay on the castle grounds instead and simply enjoy the views.
And honestly, I was okay with that.
Sometimes you don’t have to see every single thing to appreciate where you are.
And Then There Was Kyoto
Our trip to Kyoto was another one of those adventures where we had a plan—but not necessarily a clue how to execute it. 😂
We knew we wanted to visit Kiyomizu-Dera Temple, so we took the train from Osaka to Kyoto.
Once we got to Kyoto Station, we realized we weren’t exactly sure where we needed to go next.
So we did what any sensible traveler would do.
We went to the information center and asked.
They pointed us in the right direction, and we took the bus toward Kiyomizu-Dera.
And then?
We walked.
And walked.
And walked some more.
Here’s to more walking!!!!! 😂
The streets leading up to the temple are cobblestoned and climb uphill, with shops lining the way. There are food vendors, souvenir shops and places where you can even rent kimonos.
It was crowded, too. Kiyomizu-Dera is famous, and plenty of people were making their way up the hill with us.
So here’s my little piece of advice: bring a water bottle.
You will thank me later.
Once you reach the temple grounds, there’s plenty to explore. The grounds are vast, and you can wander around and take your time.
And this is where something really special happened for me.
I finally saw cherry blossoms.
🌸
Remember how I had wanted to see cherry blossoms during our Japan trip?
Well, I didn’t get to see them throughout the trip because the blossoms were actually expected to bloom after we had already left Japan.
Boohoo for me.
But then we got to Kiyomizu-Dera.
And there they were.
Cherry blossoms.
It wasn’t the huge explosion of pink I had imagined, but I didn’t care.
I got my cherry blossoms.
And somehow, finding them there made them even more special.
While we were walking back down the hill, I also found one of my kokeshi dolls in one of the shops.
And here’s another lesson I learned:
If you see something you really like, get it.
Because you might think, I’ll come back for it later.
And then, before you know it, you’re at the bottom of the hill, the buses are there, and you’re moving on to the next part of your adventure.
So yes, I got my kokeshi doll. 😊
And Then, There Was Mt. Fuji
Our trip was coming to an end.
We were on the Shinkansen from Osaka back to Tokyo, heading toward the airport and, eventually, home.
This time, we were riding the bullet train in the morning. It was sunny, which meant we actually had a chance to see the scenery outside the windows.
And somewhere around more than halfway through our ride, I was looking out the window on the left side of the train. I happened to be sitting in the aisle seat, so I was looking across toward the two-seat section on the other side.
And then I saw her.
Mt. Fuji.
There she was in all her majestic form, snowcapped and enormous against the clear sky.
I was mesmerized.
I tapped my husband. Then my son.
I think I just whispered, “Mt. Fuji.”
And I pointed out the window.
For a few seconds, we just looked.
Oh. My. God.
There it was.
Mt. Fuji.
Japan’s symbol.
And it was just…right there.
I don’t think you can really understand how massive it is until you’re actually looking at it. It’s so tall. So enormous. And somehow, seeing it from a moving Shinkansen made the whole thing feel surreal.
We weren’t planning this.
We hadn’t booked a tour.
We weren’t standing at some famous viewpoint waiting for it to appear.
We were simply on our way home.
And Japan gave us one more memory.
A really, really big one.
And then comes the part that still makes me laugh.
Did I take a freaking picture?!?!?!
NO.
😂😂😂
I didn’t take a picture.
My husband didn’t take a picture.
My son didn’t take a picture.
None of us took a picture.
We were too caught up in the moment.
And honestly?
I’m okay with that.
Because every once in a while, you get a moment that you don’t experience through a camera lens. You just experience it.
I can still picture it in my head.
I can still feel that little jolt of excitement when I realized what I was looking at.
And I still get chills thinking about it.
That was how our first trip to Japan ended—with Mt. Fuji appearing outside our Shinkansen window just as we were about to leave the country.
Talk about perfect timing.
Next time, though?
We’re going to make it a point to see Mt. Fuji on purpose.
Not just as she passes by the window of a bullet train.
We’re going to stop.
We’re going to take our time.
And yes…
We are absolutely taking the freaking picture. 😂🗻
We Didn’t See Everything—and That’s Okay
There are so many other places we could have visited in Kyoto.
And that’s exactly the problem.
There are so many places to visit in Japan that trying to see everything in one trip just isn’t realistic.
We had to choose.
We picked the places that mattered most to us and tried to enjoy them rather than rushing from one attraction to another just so we could say we’d been there.
And I think that’s one of the biggest things I’ll remember about this trip.
We didn’t see everything.
We didn’t experience everything.
We probably didn’t even do everything the right way.
But we experienced Japan together.
We rode trains and figured things out as we went. We walked until our feet were tired. We got lost. We ate things we’d never tried before. We saw places we’d only ever seen in pictures.
My husband experienced his first Universal Studios theme park.
My son got to walk through the world of Harry Potter, watch WaterWorld, see Jurassic World and explore a country he’d been excited to visit.
And I finally got to see cherry blossoms.
Even if it was just a little bit.
Maybe that’s the funny thing about travel.
Sometimes the things you miss become the reason you want to go back.
We didn’t get to see all of Kyoto.
We didn’t get to see Japan in every season.
We didn’t get to check everything off the list.
And that’s okay.
Because now we have a reason to go back.
There are more places to explore.
More food to eat.
More trains to figure out.
More things to get lost looking for.
And hopefully, more cherry blossoms waiting for me somewhere.
Our first family trip to Japan may be over, but I don’t think our Japan story is.
This feels a lot more like a beginning than an ending. 🎌❤️
And sometimes they’re things that probably don’t need to be questioned at all—but now that I’ve thought about them, I need to know the answer.
Why do we do that?
Why is that so difficult?
How does that even work?
And, perhaps most importantly, why didn’t anyone tell me this before?
That’s where Everyday Discoveries comes in.
This isn’t going to be a collection of product reviews or a list of things you should buy. I’m not here to convince you that you need the newest gadget, the latest must-have item, or another thing to add to your Amazon cart.
I have enough stuff.
What I do have is curiosity.
So this is where I’m going to follow some of those little questions that pop into my head while I’m going about my everyday life.
Sometimes I’ll start with something that happened to me.
Sometimes I’ll notice something I’ve never really thought about before.
Sometimes I’ll wonder whether something that’s happening in my house is just a me thing—or whether the rest of you are doing it too.
And sometimes, I suspect, I’ll go down a rabbit hole and come back with far more information than I ever intended to have.
That’s okay.
That’s kind of the point.
Because I’ve realized that everyday life is actually full of things worth noticing.
We just don’t always stop long enough to notice them.
So consider this my invitation to pause for a minute, get curious about something ordinary, and see where the question takes us.
We might learn something.
We might discover something completely unexpected.
I don’t have a flawless face, either. I have visible pores, hyperpigmentation from acne, and oily skin. My skin is very much real skin, and it has its issues.
What I do have is curiosity.
I’m always wondering: Can I minimize this? Can I improve that? Is there something that actually works?
And that curiosity is what led me down the beauty rabbit hole.
Especially K-Beauty.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably seen the ads on social media.
You see one K-Beauty product and think, Hmmmm… would that work for me?
Then you see another.
And another.
And another.
And suddenly your social media feed is basically screaming:
HERE! TRY THIS!
AND THIS!
OH, AND YOU DEFINITELY NEED THIS ONE!
😂
But then I start wondering…
Should I actually believe all of this?
Because let’s be honest. A lot of the people demonstrating these products already have beautiful skin. Clear pores. Even skin tone. Smooth, glowing, glass-like skin.
And I’m sitting there thinking:
Soooooo… will this actually work on MY skin?
That’s what I want this part of A Curious Kind of Life to explore.
I’m not going to pretend to be a beauty expert, dermatologist, or skincare guru. I’m simply going to share what I’ve tried, what seemed to work for me, what didn’t, and what I’m still trying to figure out.
Because something that works beautifully for me may not work for you.
And that’s okay.
Skin is different. Our concerns are different. Our routines are different. Even our patience for putting seventeen products on our faces every morning is different. 😂
So this isn’t going to be a collection of “You NEED this!” posts.
And it isn’t going to be an ad-driven beauty section.
It’s going to be my little beauty experiment.
So, Where Am I Starting?
I do have a routine.
Both day and night.
My basic routine starts with cleaning my face, followed by toner and serums. In the morning, I follow those with moisturizer and SPF.
Then comes makeup.
I wear foundation, and because I have oily skin, I also use setting powder to help keep the shine under control.
And then I head off to work.
At night, the routine changes a little. I cleanse my face, use toner and serums, moisturize, and use retinol as part of my nighttime routine.
Nothing revolutionary.
Nothing fancy.
Just a routine I’ve built while trying to figure out what my skin actually likes—and what it absolutely does not.
And that’s where we’re going to start.
Because I’m curious to see where this experiment takes me.
Maybe I’ll find products that actually make a noticeable difference.
Maybe I’ll discover that something I thought was going to be amazing is completely underwhelming.
Maybe I’ll spend money on something and think, Well…that was a stupid decision. 😂
Or maybe I’ll find something that makes me look in the mirror and think:
Huh. This actually worked.
Those are the discoveries I want to share.
Because if you’re sitting on the other side of your screen looking at yet another K-Beauty ad thinking, “Hmmmm…will that work for me?”
You really can’t go to another country without trying their food. Well—you can, but why would you? 😂
We didn’t go to Japan to eat the same things we eat back home. We’re pretty adventurous when it comes to food, and we’re willing to try whatever looks interesting. We also love those little hole-in-the-wall restaurants—the places that aren’t part of some big chain and don’t necessarily look like much from the outside.
Those are usually the places that end up being the most memorable.
So, we surveyed the area around our hotel and zeroed in on two potential restaurants.
One was a Japanese curry place.
The other was a ramen shop.
Perfect.
One dinner at the curry place. The next dinner at the ramen shop.
Two dinners planned. We were professionals. 😂
Dinner #1: The Curry Place 🍛
For our first dinner, we went with the Japanese curry place.
I ordered the shrimp tempura curry, my husband ordered the cheese curry, and my son ordered the pork cutlet curry.
They prepared everything right in front of us and served it on these simple, oblong plates—rice on one side, the fried protein on top, and that glorious curry sauce poured over everything.
It looked modest.
It looked appetizing.
And then we took our first bites.
Oh. My. Goodness.
That was, without a doubt, the most scrumptious shrimp tempura curry I have ever tasted.
I have absolutely no idea what they put in that curry sauce, but whatever it was, they knew what they were doing. The sauce was rich, flavorful, and just ridiculously good.
And yes…
It melted in my mouth. 😂
You know those boxes of Japanese curry mix you can buy from Asian grocery stores back home?
Yeah.
Those didn’t even come close.
I’m not saying they’re bad. We actually like them. But after eating curry in Japan, we realized that we had been living a lie. 😂
There is just something about eating it fresh, prepared right in front of you, with that crispy shrimp tempura and perfectly cooked rice, that takes it to a completely different level.
We left that little restaurant full, satisfied, and very happy with our dinner.
One dinner down.
One more planned.
Dinner #2: The Ramen Shop 🍜
Right next to the curry place was a ramen shop.
We had actually been eyeing this place from our hotel room window every night. Every time we looked down, it seemed to be full of people.
That got our attention.
If a little restaurant is packed every night, there has to be a reason, right?
So, after watching it for a few nights, we finally decided to give it a try.
And I can’t say it wasn’t full that night either.
There was a wait.
While we waited, the server handed us the menu, which gave us plenty of time to figure out what we wanted.
Both my husband and I decided to go with different types of ramen. Our son, meanwhile, decided to try the karaage chicken and something else that, unfortunately, I can’t remember. 😂
When we finally got to our table, we placed our orders and looked around.
Just like the curry place, it was modest-looking. Nothing fancy. No elaborate décor. Just a small restaurant filled with people enjoying their meals.
And honestly?
That’s exactly what we wanted.
The place was packed, so we knew we were probably in for a treat.
Then our food came out.
The server brought us two large, heaping bowls of ramen, along with our son’s orders.
And boy, were those bowls good!
The ramen itself was delicious, but the pork belly toppings on mine…
Yep.
Melt. In. Your. Mouth.
I had my husband try a piece of the pork belly and some of the ramen I ordered.
He said it was tasty.
For a Midwesterner, that’s saying a lot. 😂 Trust me.
Then there was our son.
He decided the karaage chicken was the best thing ever and that chicken nuggets didn’t even stand a chance.
He ranked that chicken way, WAY up there.
And when I tasted a piece, I understood why.
Those things are the bomb!
Crispy breading on the outside, but somehow the chicken inside was still so tender and juicy.
How do they DO that?!?!
Seriously.
I’m still trying to figure it out.
So, dinner #2 was another success.
We walked back to our hotel room with full bellies and big smiles on our faces.
Two dinners.
Two wins.
And apparently, we had discovered that when it comes to Japanese food, “melt in your mouth” was becoming less of a description and more of a recurring theme. 😂
A Few More Food Adventures
During one of our walks around the hotel, we discovered a Mister Donut shop.
Now, I know Mister Donut is a chain. But here’s the thing: we don’t have Mister Donut where we live, and Japanese Mister Donut has something that immediately caught our attention—mochi donuts.
So, naturally, we went in.
Because when you’re in Japan and you see something you don’t normally get back home, you try it!
We grabbed ourselves some donuts, and they did not disappoint.
The mochi donuts were chewy, soft, and just plain fun to eat. My son absolutely loved them.
Of course, he immediately wanted to know if we could get them at home.
Sorry, bud.
Not where we live. 😂
The Cheesecake Everyone Was Lining Up For
While we were wandering around Dotonbori, we came across Rikuro Ojisan’s Cheesecake.
And there was a line.
A pretty good one.
Now, when you see a bunch of people lining up for food, you have two choices: keep walking or find out what all the fuss is about.
We are foodies.
We investigated. 😂
Rikuro Ojisan’s is known for its incredibly fluffy cheesecake, so naturally, we had to try one.
Off to the hotel we went with our cheesecake.
And yes, it was good!
But it was also very different from the cheesecake we’re used to back home. It was light, airy, and almost more like a soft, fluffy dessert than the dense cheesecake we’re familiar with.
Would I eat it every day?
Probably not.
But was it unusual enough that I’m glad we tried it?
Absolutely.
And that’s really what our food adventures in Japan were all about—trying things we wouldn’t normally have at home.
Well… Wagyu!
We spent two days in Dotonbori, so naturally, one of those days had to include dinner there.
We found a teppanyaki restaurant that also served wagyu.
Well… wagyu!
We don’t normally have that at home, so how could we not try it?
The wagyu came thinly sliced, and we cooked it ourselves on the grill right in front of us. They told us when each piece was ready, so we sat there grilling our food, waiting for everything to cook.
There were other proteins to put on the grill too, but let’s be honest.
The wagyu was the highlight of the evening.
Those were some of the juiciest, most flavorful pieces of beef we had ever eaten.
And yes.
You already know where I’m going with this.
Melt. In. Your. Mouth. 😂
At this point, I’m starting to think Japan was personally trying to make sure I used that phrase as many times as humanly possible.
Lunch Near Osaka Castle
One of our lunches was near Osaka Castle.
By this point, we had learned something very useful about eating in Japan: some restaurants have pictures or incredibly realistic food models of the dishes right outside or near the menu.
And honestly?
I loved this.
You can look at the food before you order it instead of standing there trying to figure out what you’ve just read.
While we waited, we looked over the food models and decided what we wanted.
I settled on the pork katsudon—a deep-fried pork cutlet served over rice with eggs on top.
My son ordered the chicken teriyaki, which he enjoyed.
As for my husband…
I honestly don’t remember what he ordered.
I was too engrossed in—and completely satisfied with—my katsudon. 😂
That pork cutlet was crispy on the outside, tender inside, and paired perfectly with the rice and egg.
Another meal.
Another success.
At this point, we were beginning to realize something about traveling in Japan:
We really, really liked eating our way through this country.
So, What Should You Try?
I don’t want to bore you with a list of every single food we tried and liked. We’d be here forever. 😂
Our stomachs have limits, after all.
So I’ll leave you with this:
Try as many things as you can that you can’t find back home.
We honestly couldn’t try every single thing we wanted to try. There was only so much food we could eat in one trip!
But if you have the chance, go for it.
Try those Japanese soufflé pancakes.
Try the sushi Japan is known for.
Try the matcha teas.
Try that burnt Basque cheesecake.
Try those daifukus.
If it’s something you’ve never had before and you probably can’t find it back home, try it.
Because when you have the chance to experience something like that, you should take it.
Those are the stories you get to tell your family and friends when you come home.
You don’t want to come back from Japan and tell everyone that you tried their chicken nuggets and explain how they’re different. 😂
You want to tell them about the food.
You want to tell them about the things you had never tasted before.
You want to tell them about the little restaurant you found while wandering around.
You want to tell them about the food that surprised you.
You want to say, “Oh my gosh, you have to try this!”
Because that’s part of what makes traveling so much fun.
You get to step outside what you know, try something completely different, and come home with a story.
