Tag: Montana

Nomad Life: How Did I Get Here?

June 20, 2023

Do you ever stop and wonder about the twists and turns of your life?

Mine has taken many in the past five years.

If you had told me in June 2018 that in five years, I would be homeless by choice and changing doggie diapers, I don’t know if I would have laughed, freaked out, or broken down in tears.

But here I am.

You see, I was one of those Type A people who liked to be in control and lead a tidy, secure life. I was a lifelong educator, and although I always found it challenging, I figured I would segway into a new career at some point.

In fact, I did make a change in 2018. I sold my condo in the Seattle area and moved to Montana’s Flathead Valley.

This is it! I thought. But it wasn’t.

Don’t get me wrong—there were a lot of wonderful outcomes from that move. I enjoyed a year of outdoor recreation and made tons of new friends. What I didn’t do was plan for a source of income. I was overly optimistic about finding a suitable job that would give me some income but still allow for ample time in the great outdoors. It just didn’t work out.

I have an old friend who firmly believes life is all about timing. I guess I didn’t time that one right.

After a year, I returned to my home state, Washington, and returned to my safe but stressful career teaching high school. I took a position in Eastern Washington, thinking that changing to a smaller rural school would be better and keep me closer to new friends in Montana.

Then, you know what happened: Pandemic. There’s nothing like being in a new job in a new location and then being locked up alone in your isolated home in the country.  

A couple of months into the pandemic, a friend and colleague stopped by for an on-the-porch visit. She encouraged me to head back to the west side of the state to be closer to friends and family. It was May, and we still didn’t know what the following months and years would bring.

I got online, found an appropriate open position, arranged for a nontraditional interview, and got the job.

It was time to move again.

I bought a “fixer-upper” to have something to do. Ha! I would not recommend remodeling a house during a pandemic. Supply shortages, inflated prices…it was not a fun experience.

That’s the short version of what led me to my current lifestyle.

If you or someone close to you works in public education, you know how tough the past few years have been. We teachers have been dropping like flies.

A year ago, I decided to sell that newly remodeled house, got rid of most of my possessions, and quit my job. Another teacher down.

My initial plan was to retire in Spain, at least for a year or two. I had traveled there about a dozen times over the years, and two involved longer stays in educational programs. I had always loved Spain. Why not live the Spanish ex-pat life for a while?

After traveling around the Western US in the summer of 2022, I set out for a three-month trip to Europe in September. I had an apartment reserved in Valencia, Spain, for the month of October. It would be an excellent trial period to see if I wanted to live there for a year or two.

In the end, I realized that traveling was what gave me the most joy. Exploring new places fed my soul like nothing else in life.

I had been following the blog of a nomadic couple from Seattle for several months. Initially, I thought there was no way I would ever do it. Nine months later, I realized it was exactly what I wanted to do.

So here I am. My nomadic lifestyle continues to evolve.

Last December, I returned from Europe to find my sister in a poor state physically and emotionally. I instantly put the brakes on my life to take care of her. I rented a house for three months (negotiated an Airbnb) to allow us time to assess her health and make a plan. I was ready to go back to work, at least part-time.

Sadly, my sister passed away from pancreatic cancer in January.

I decided to keep the short-term rental through March, as planned, to grieve and help sort out my sister’s affairs. Looking back, it was the right move. I spent more time with my adult children than I had in years, and there were numerous visits with family and friends. I also bonded further with my niece and her husband and kids.

That experience made me realize that I needed a hybrid plan. I wanted to spend a chunk of the year in Western Washington near family and friends. In other words, this is still home. I don’t want to lose that.

After traveling throughout the western states again this spring, I arrived “home” on June first. I was able to arrange pet-sitting and house-sitting gigs in the area through mid-July.

One of the most important things I have learned over the past few years is to be flexible because changes will always arise.

And there are no rules to the nomadic lifestyle. You can make it what you want.

Who knows? I may go back to work one of these days. For now, I appreciate the freedom and joy that come with simplifying.

Travel Days and Me Time

April 7, 2023

Yesterday was a travel day with some fun mixed in.
I left my cousin’s place in the morning. Well, we actually went together, each taking our own car. The first stop was a bakery in Hamilton, Montana, that offered several gluten-free items. (River Rising—I highly recommend it if you are in the Bitterroot Valley!)
We then traveled south to Lost Trail Pass and the Chief Joseph Nordic Ski area. The trail grooming ended last weekend, and about two feet of snow fell after. So, there was plenty of snow, but those sweet smooth tracks were lacking. It was a bit of work, but the glorious sunny day made it worth the effort.


We got four challenging miles in, and both felt satisfied with the workout.
Sadly, it was time to say goodbye to my cousin, but we had new memories to share from our visit.
I then took off on my own, heading south as she headed north to go home.
My favorite part of traveling is hitting a new road for the first time. The drive south along Highway 93 was snowy and scenic. Then I took a left turn at the town of Salmon to head southeast to Idaho Falls.
Chunks of snow lay along the sides of the Salmon River as the spring thaw was in full force. Looking back this morning, I wish I had stopped for more pictures. It was a long day of travel, and I had one more pass to conquer.

Snow melting along the Salmon River


The road was mostly clear and dry until I reached a section where the wind picked up, and the snow was blowing across the highway. In the distance, the soft snow-covered peaks continued as I drove.
I finally arrived in Idaho Falls around 5:00 PM. I was starving and more than ready for a shower.
I splurged and ordered an Uber Eats delivery which ended in disaster. My enchiladas arrived wrapped in flour tortillas, and the rice and beans were lacking. The kind young man at the front desk had received the order for me, so I was not able to check the order myself.
This starving gluten-free girl had to find somewhere else to eat.
I got online and found another Mexican place about a mile away. Don Alberto served up massive quantities at reasonable prices. I had enough left over for lunch today.

Don Alberto in Idaho Falls. The two carnitas tacos were enough for dinner!


All’s well that ends well. I caught up with a good friend and enjoyed a little reading and TV time. (Silly as it may seem, I am a nomad who loves HGTV.)
Last night was my first alone in a hotel since leaving “home” almost two weeks ago. Don’t get me wrong—I love visiting friends and family—but it is nice to have my own space.
Now I will be on my own for about three weeks, and I will be trying out some more extended stays. Travel is my life, so I plan to slow down a bit.
I will arrive in Park City, Utah, for a week-long stay tonight. I hope to catch the last of the spring snow and get out for more cross-country skiing. I’m also due for some pampering time—a pedicure and a haircut are in order. Maybe a massage.
Here’s to some Me Time!

Early Spring in Montana’s Flathead Valley

April 3, 2023

Last week, I headed east across Washington State, visiting friends along the way. The great spring road trip has begun!
A few days ago, I arrived in Montana’s Flathead Valley, one of my favorite places in the country. I first passed through in the 1990s. Flathead Lake captivated me then and still does today.

The first view of Flathead Lake!


I had to pull over to take it in as I approached the lake. It literally brings tears to my eyes every time I return. This time, the frozen shores of early spring added a dimension to its beauty.

Frozen shores of Flathead Lake in Somers, Montana


The past few days have been filled with outdoor activities as I captured the end of the long, snowy season here.
No matter the time of year, I’m always happy to return to visit friends and enjoy the area’s natural beauty.

Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park
Skiing at Whitefish Mountain Nordic
Hiking the cross-country ski trail at Dog Creek Nordic Center. They let us hike the Black Diamond run since some of the snow had melted on parts of the trail.
Dog Creek

Deadlines Don’t Always Matter

Tonight while I was out enjoying some incredibly talented local musicians, I became acquainted with a family of British tourists. They are going to be making their way over to Seattle from here, so I gave them some travel tips for the journey. When I handed them my business card, which has my Montana Shan web address on the back, I realized that it had been about three months since I have blogged. I’m sure you all thought I had packed it up and moved back to Seattle by now.

Nope. I’m still here. Honestly, I can’t give a good excuse for the hiatus from writing. Maybe I felt like the Montana Magic was wearing off. I did feel the pressure of my first Montana anniversary coming up and was disappointed about some things that haven’t quite worked out as I had dreamed. Now that a year has passed, I’m over it. I’m still trying new things, and I still love the beauty of the Flathead Valley.

Making a living has been a challenge. At the end of February, I took a part-time job waiting tables. That’s what all artists do, right? I thought it would be perfect since I would be working nights and have days free to enjoy outdoor activities and work on writing and editing projects.

After about three months, I realized that restaurant work didn’t suit me. Working evenings was also killing my social life. On many Saturdays, I was too exhausted from work to get up and enjoy activities with friends like bike rides. Then, one night at work, I had an “I’m too old for this shit” moment and decided to look for a different job.

I’ve been working a nine-to-five job for more than a month now. I have to admit, I appreciate the predictability of the schedule, and it’s the kind of job that I can just leave every day. It’s not like teaching where I took stacks paperwork home, often accompanied by a load of stress. My evenings are free, I get all of the holidays, and I never have to work weekends. Not so bad. In true Montana form, my coworkers have been friendly and welcoming. They’ve all been showing me the ropes, and there is a strong sense of teamwork.

The ironic thing is that I was contracted to edit a novel just after I began working full-time. Talk about timing! It was the end of June; the 4th of July was just around the corner, followed by a visit from one of my sons. Somehow, I managed to squeeze in the editing work and reached my July 21st deadline. Now I feel like I have an abundance of free time.

It hasn’t been all work, though. I have been enjoying some mountain biking and hiking with friends. I experienced my first substantial day hike in Glacier National Park (11 miles), which included a grizzly sighting. The visit with my son was too short, but at least we had one full day of exploration together, and we got out to a couple of my favorite haunts. I continue to enjoy another summer of live outdoor music, usually three or four nights a week.

My first Montana anniversary passed a couple of weeks ago. I’m grateful for the numerous new experiences of the past year and the many friendships that have enriched my life. They have been even better than I could have imagined. Last year, I arrived with an open mind, ready for a new life and a lower stress level. As I sit and reflect tonight, I realize that I have found the most important things that I was seeking.

April Ups and Downs

Last year when I first moved to Montana, several people suggested that I plan a vacation in March or April. They would say things like, “You’re going to be ready for a getaway by then. March can be brutal.” As the calendar rolls into the second half of April, I now understand what they were getting at.

The snow began to diminish from my yard in late March, and the sight of my lawn reappearing was certainly welcome. Then came the first rain of 2019, and I was instantly longing for more of that fluffy white stuff. After all, I had escaped the Seattle area and those miserable gray days. I was also mourning the fact that I had probably enjoyed my last day of cross-country skiing for the season.

I had experienced the effect of the thaw and freeze on the roads as the snow was melting, too. There were several days where I was driving through the frozen ruts. That was a bit treacherous. The temperature swings were from freezing to the 50s.

A week ago, we experienced some snow flurries here. I had been pleasantly surprised with one last day of downhill skiing two weekends ago, but I thought we were done here in the lowlands. There were no accumulations, though. It was just Mother Nature reminding me that I do indeed live in Montana.

Now we seem to be into the kind of spring weather that I had expected. Many days are a combination of sun and rain, but I can’t complain. Flowers are beginning to bloom, and we’re seeing temperatures as high as the sixties. On Easter Sunday as I was preparing for dinner guests, I swear that every time I looked out the window, my yard was turning greener. I’ll be mowing any day now.

I came to Montana to experience all four seasons, and I’m not disappointed by any means. Maybe next March I’ll plan that escape, but for now, I still feel like I’m living in Vacationland.

Adventure Skiing

The best kinds of friends are those who both support you and get you to stretch your comfort zone. My move to Montana was all about getting a fresh start and seeking new experiences. New friends have been an integral part of those new experiences.

Thanks to Meetup groups, I have met many new friends who have enriched my life in so many ways. One friend graciously offered me downhill ski lessons to help me get back on the slopes after more than thirty years away. Another friend shares my love of cross-country skiing and has introduced me to some new adventures.

A few weeks ago, three of us went adventure skiing up to the Mission Lookout in the Flathead National Forest. The first part was pretty easy. We skied along a road that had been traveled by snowmobiles, and it was mostly flat.

The real adventure began when we started our ascent to the lookout tower. We were then skiing through about a foot of virgin powder, making our way uphill. The work was worth it, and there was a true sense of accomplishment when we arrived. The best part was that since it wasn’t a groomed course, my friend was able to bring his dog. Watching her romp around in the deep powder chasing snowballs was the perfect lunchtime entertainment!

Yesterday, my friend led us on another ski adventure on the Beaver Lake Trails. It was a little more exciting than I had envisioned since the words “trail” and “lake” were in the description he had posted. I envisioned a leisurely day of skiing around a beautiful lake. Well, it was beautiful, but not exactly leisurely.

The trail began with an uphill climb on a rather narrow, icy, snowshoe path. It was by far the most challenging path I had attempted on skis. I will admit that I even took my skis off in a couple of spots where it was just too steep or curvy for me. Fortunately, the first part was the worst, and after that there was no heading back anyway. Oh, and did I mention that I was the only woman among a group of five men? Wimping out wasn’t an option.

We arrived at a road, and I asked if we were skiing that next. Nope. More trail. The next section didn’t seem so bad. Maybe I was getting used to this crazy narrow trail skiing; maybe I was okay with taking a few falls, too.

Later, we skied a road that brought us near the lake. My friend turned to me and said, “Now, you are in your zone,” or something like that.

That initial steep climb was worth it when we arrived at the lake. And we didn’t ski around it; we skied across it! Yet another first for me. There was something so satisfying about the sensation of my pole tips hitting the ice of the frozen lake as we glided across. The sun was shining down on us by then, and we had all shed our jackets. Such a nice change after a stretch of sub-zero and single digit days! It was my first taste of spring-like skiing in Montana.

When we arrived back at our cars, my friend told me that he didn’t post ski outings at places like golf courses. “It’s going to be an adventure when you ski with me.”

I’m so grateful for my new friend and his sense of adventure. These are the experiences that I was seeking when I moved here. Alone, I wouldn’t have taken on adventures like these; friends make all the difference.

Making My Own Tracks

It’s been snowing steadily for more than twenty-four hours, and there was already more than a foot of snow on the ground before it started. As I write this afternoon, the winds are picking up, and tonight the temperatures are going to drop below zero. So this is what people were talking about when they questioned whether I could handle a Montana winter.

Can I handle it? You mean, do I love it? I moved to Montana to experience real winters like this. After a lifetime as a Seattle-area resident, I longed for an end to the rain-soaked days and gray skies. For years, I had dreamed of living in a place where I could cross-country ski all winter long. And today, I checked one more thing off my Montana wish list. I skied from my front door.

I have to admit, I do love the arrival of my snowplow guy, but today I was hoping he wouldn’t make it, or maybe he could just delay his arrival. There is something so satisfying about watching his truck push aside all that snow in minutes. I love how all that pure white powder piles up along the sides of my driveway and near my porch. But today, I really wanted to make a cross-country ski course around the house. My neighbor was amused by my idea and welcomed me to expand the course into her yard, too. By one this afternoon, there was no sign of him. It was time to get the skis.

First, I had to make a run to the mailbox. Since the neighborhood hadn’t been plowed either, I popped on the skis and made the quarter-mile trek without incident. Okay, that was a good warm-up. Then I decided to go beyond my yard. I trudged through a foot of powder, down the thin strip of common area behind the neighbors’ houses. Next, I went around the corner to the golf course. How could I possibly resist all of that pristine, wide-open space?

It was hard work, but worth it, and the trip back over my tracks proved a bit easier. To finish off my adventure, I made the ski course I had envisioned in our two adjoining yards. I have to say it was much more fun than building a snowman!

So, can I handle a Montana winter? Yes, and I can handle so much more. I am adventurous, resilient, and more of a risk-taker at this stage of my life than I ever have been before. I have experienced more “living” in the past six months than in any other six-month period of my life. Have I made mistakes? Yes. Has everything worked out according to plan? No. Do I have regrets? Absolutely not. Did my snowplow guy ever make it? Nope.

January Isn’t So Bad

I used to hate January. There was just no way around it. Once Christmas and that sweet, long break were over, I had to drag myself back to work and attempt to inspire my students to get back into the learning groove. For many years, January had mostly been a month to trudge through and count the days until it was over.

But now, that’s all changed. First, I’m no longer in the classroom. I did take a long trip to visit family and friends over the holidays, but I was anxiously anticipating the return to my new life in Montana. I couldn’t wait to get back to my new friends and neighbors here, and, of course, get some skiing in.

When I arrived home two weeks ago, there still wasn’t much snow. It was rather warm, dry, and disappointing. At least there was enough snow up north and in the mountains, so I wasn’t entirely out of luck. I did get a few ski outings in and even went downhill skiing for the first time in, well, literally decades.

Then yesterday the magic happened. I had been putting in some hours at my friend’s shop to help with inventory over the past week or so. It was lightly snowing when I woke up, and it really started coming down by midday when I drove to the shop.

After only three hours of work, I had to brush what appeared to be a couple of inches off my car. The winter wonderland had arrived! I made the short drive home without any mishaps, but it kept snowing so hard that I decided to cancel my evening plans with a friend. It seemed too risky to venture out when I could stay safe and warm at home.

This morning I looked out my window to see that my driveway had been plowed, which meant we got more than three inches. The internet reports that it was between 4.5-6 inches. That seems about right.

The very best thing, though, was that there was finally enough snow on my local ski trails to go try them out! I have been waiting since November for enough accumulation to make this happen. Last summer when I was house-hunting, I had dreamed of the day that I could take that short drive, pop on my skis, and go swishing around. I know you probably don’t understand, especially if you aren’t a cross-country skier, but it just made me so happy! There’s something magical about the pristine, freshly groomed trails. It’s actually better than Christmas in my world.

Now January feels more like a welcome friend than a dreaded enemy. I’m looking forward to more time on my skis, and I’m grateful that my friend convinced me to buy snow tires.

‘Tis the Season to Be Busy

Oh my, have I been busy! I can’t believe that December is more than halfway over, and I am just now getting to my first post of the month.

The Christmas magic in my cozy new hometown continues. December first was the night of the Christmas parade. Fortunately, a friend had asked me if I wanted to go, or I may have missed all of the fun. The variety of floats was charming; I do believe my favorite was the sled dogs—yes, real barking dogs. It was definitely a community event with a constant sprinkling of candy for the kids from almost every float. I think nearly everyone in town was either on a float or watching along the street.

The next day I attended a Christmas party that was held at a local recording studio. Besides a lively variety of music, the white elephant gift exchange was a highlight. There were about forty gifts in all, and the hostess managed the whole affair with great skill, taking control of the mic from the musicians. Afterward, musicians took turns singing and playing their instruments, rotating in and out, and sharing the stage. I’ve decided that being a groupie is pretty cool. You know, I’m doing my part to support the arts.

The following week, I took a field trip to Missoula to check out a business opportunity. It was a perfectly clear winter day, so the scenery alone made the drive worthwhile. My companion for the day was a spirited character who shared his compelling life story all the way there and back, over an hour each way. In the end, I decided against the business opportunity, but I’m trying to convince him that I should ghostwrite his memoir. We’re in touch; it still may happen.

Throughout December, I’ve been covering extra shifts at my friend’s shop here in town. She is active in the community and was coordinating “Twelve Days of Christmas” baskets for a silent auction in support of the local arts and culture center. I jumped in to help set up some of the baskets and typed up some of the descriptions. It was a hectic couple of days before the event. I then actually attended the gala, rather than volunteering, which was a pleasant change of pace. I ended up with the winning bid on one of the baskets, too!

The following morning, I was a volunteer judge at the local high school speech and debate tournament. It was my first return to a school-related event since leaving my teaching position last June. I have to say it was an absolute joy to see so many hard working kids giving their all in such valuable activities. As an added bonus, they were incredibly polite and grateful for my volunteer service. Their coaches had indeed trained them well.

That afternoon, my neighbors hosted an open house style Christmas party. There was an unbelievable number of people crammed into their home, and all were enjoying themselves. Everyone was engaged in conversation, and I have never seen so many people squeezed onto a sofa before. I met some new people, and chatted with neighbors and acquaintances along with a couple of people who seem to appear everywhere in this town!

I had to leave the party early because I had plans to meet a couple of friends for eggnog at the local distillery before catching a favorite local band at one of my hangouts in town. Once again, there were some of those friendly, familiar faces at both the distillery and the bar. My community continues to grow.

Last week I added party preparations into the mix. On Friday, I hosted my first Montana house party which was a huge success. After feeling a little anxious about the mix of neighbors and friends that I had invited, everything went smoothly. It was heartwarming to realize that I had made so many new friends in the few months that I have lived here. Everyone arrived with wine or food to share, and a few people even brought me gifts. My house was full of joyful chatter throughout the evening. This week, I keep running into friends and neighbors who rave about the party and the interesting people they met that night. That is a gift in itself.

The next day, Saturday, I got out for my first cross country ski outing of the season—finally! One of the main reasons that I moved to Montana was to experience the four seasons and winters full of snow rather than Seattle rain. Cross-country skiing is by far my favorite outdoor activity. Sometimes I think it must be because it is a limited activity that I don’t get to experience more than a dozen or so times each year. I just love the smooth swishing of my skis over the pristine white snow; it’s a sort of mediation for me. I can best describe it as my version of a runner’s high. Along our nearly ten-mile course on Whitefish Mountain, we took in some stunning views of the valley, all the way down to Flathead Lake and Blacktail Ski Resort. This is one of the many reasons why I came to Montana!

My friend, the shop owner, was out of town for a few days, so that evening her husband and I went out for a burger at a local bar (well-earned after a day of skiing) and the children’s musical production of A Christmas Carol. Now don’t think quaint little small-town children’s production. This was a professional level performance complete with choreography. Yet another gem in my new hometown! How was I so fortunate to find this place?

I rounded out the weekend on Sunday with a few hours of work, ice skating with a new friend, and a glass of wine with a group of friends afterward. I’m still nursing my bruised knee from my one and only fall on the ice, though. As I said, skiing is more my thing—softer landings!

Today marked the arrival of my “bestie” who is in town for a couple of days. If you’ve been following my story, he’s a friend of a friend who’s been my biggest supporter and ally through my transition. Sadly, he moved to another part of the state back in October. We had a get together this evening with several friends at our favorite local brewery. It was so good to see him in person again and share some holiday joy.

Along with everything else, I’m still trying to get the rest of my Christmas cards sent, have some writing and editing work to complete, and my house is not entirely cleaned up from the party. But those loose ends don’t matter. My life is richly blessed with new friends, new experiences, and a little Montana magic.

 

Thankful Weekend

As I sit down to write on this chilly Sunday evening, I feel like I’m living out a Hallmark movie. Really, the only missing element is finding the love of my life in my new hometown. Who knows? Maybe that is in next week’s script.

My Thanksgiving weekend started with serving the community meal at the local cafe. The owners generously donate the meal every year as kind of a gift to the town. And it’s not just for those in need. People from all walks of life attend, and reservations are required because it fills up. There’s an option to donate to the town’s food bank at the event, and many came prepared with checks and cash to drop in the box.

I had met one of the owners a month or so ago, and she invited me to attend either by volunteering or just coming to dine. Of course, the volunteering option was more attractive to me. Not only would I have an opportunity to meet community members, but I’d still get to eat afterward.

I was assigned to the soup and dessert crew. We quickly bonded and took our roles of ladling, plate prepping, and serving. Once all of the soup was delivered, we headed to the dessert station. This was even more fun because the pie case was located in the center of the cafe where I could chat with people seated at the counter. And who isn’t happy when they’re eating pie? I also provided some entertainment as I got accustomed to the professional whip cream dispenser. Let’s say it was a little more powerful than the grocery store cans. Fortunately, I had my commemorative apron to save my outfit from certain disaster.

After three seatings of more than 200 people, we volunteers went to the kitchen to serve our own plates. I quickly understood why this was a “reservations only” event. It was probably the best turkey dinner I had ever eaten, and I would really like to get my hands on their sweet potato recipe!

Less than three hours later, I joined my neighbors to further stuff myself. It was a quiet gathering, just four of us, which was perfect after the busy day. My dear neighbor thoughtfully made a gluten-free pumpkin pie for me. Delightful!

On Friday and Saturday, I worked in my friend’s shop. Most of Friday was spent preparing for Shop Small Saturday. We worked like elves, stocking the shelves and packing up bulk candy. Shop Small was sponsored by the chamber, which had created a Bingo card to get people around to the different stores. We offered chili, chips, and cookies to the customers along with wine and coffee. As people entered the store, we had them draw a ticket for an additional discount.  A local author came and planted herself on the sofa to sell her cozy mystery books, including her latest which was Christmas-themed and set in a fictionalized version of our town. It all certainly made for a festive atmosphere.

After my shift on Saturday, I headed to the main street in town to take in the decorations and lights. It was fun to recollect the big decorating party from a week earlier and see my contributions. The town is rather enchanting, all lit up like that. I thought about the fudge that I had sampled in the kitchen store last Saturday and decided that I needed to reward myself. Needless to say, I don’t think I ever need to make my own fudge again. Theirs is absolutely perfect! This could become a bad habit.

The Christmas magic continued after church this morning. I went down to the hall for coffee and donuts and saw a woman at a table with boxes of ornaments. I introduced myself and asked about her plan. Her mission was to get everyone in the hall to put at least one ornament on the tree. It was brilliant. My friend and I jumped in to help by bringing ornaments around to the tables. It was such a simple but effective way to get people involved and build community.

On my way home, I stopped to grab a salad at a restaurant and took a moment to check out the Christmas trees for sale outside. There must have been at least a dozen varieties, some I had never even seen in my native Washington. A man started telling me the story of the older gentleman who is the longtime owner the nursery. He was so enthusiastic that I was sure he was in charge of the tree sales. A few minutes later, when I went inside to buy my salad, he came in to pay for his tree.  He was just a happy customer, not the tree salesman.

My last stop before heading home was the grocery store. After grabbing some veggies, I ran into an acquaintance. We chatted right between the produce department and the bakery for more than half an hour. By the time we parted, I felt like we had advanced from acquaintances to friends.

I can’t wait to see where the small-town Christmas magic takes me in the month ahead. Already, I’ve been invited to more parties and events than ever before. And I have to decide just which one of those trees to bring home for my first Montana Christmas.