One year for Halloween, I decided to bring a little classic TV charm — and a dash of gothic glam — to my living room with a spooky, small-scale celebration. I’ve always loved Halloween, but instead of going full haunted-house this year, I kept it cozy with a small gathering of ghouls, goblins, and a few brave humans.
Costumes were encouraged (of course), and I knew exactly who I wanted to channel: the darkly delightful Lily Munster.
I have been a journalist for 25 years. In fact, this year marks my 25th year of being in the journalism industry in some area, starting in college at a local radio station and later as a paid intern at a newspaper. This also marks the 20th year of my college graduation.
In the last 25 years, I have covered a variety of stories, including homicides, fires and car accidents. I was good at establishing trustworthy relationships with law enforcement, but I have never really enjoyed covering spot news.
Every year, the pressure to create life-changing New Year’s resolutions looms large. At first, I jotted down a modest list—something short enough to be a humble little Facebook status. You know, something breezy like, “Drink more water. Be less sarcastic. Pet more dogs.”
But then the wheels started turning.
If you’ve been scrolling through my social media lately (unlikely), you might assume I’m a culinary goddess whipping up Pinterest-worthy creations with ease. Spoiler alert: I’m not. But I have been dabbling in the kitchen again, which is always an adventure — emphasis on adventure.
Like many serial hobbyists, I’ve gone through plenty of phases. Stamp collecting? Check. Salsa dancing? Si. That one time I thought I could be a top chef? Oh yes. I had a full-blown Food Network addiction and a growing collection of cookbooks — some purchased, some gifted, all aspirational.
Let’s be honest: the way you decorate your Christmas tree says a lot about you. It’s like a glittery, pine-scented personality test — without the pressure of multiple choice. Some people go for elegant, color-coordinated themes with perfectly spaced ribbons and matching metallic balls. Others throw on everything they’ve ever owned since childhood, creating a nostalgic mosaic of memories.
As for me? I fall somewhere in between — equal parts sentimentalist, craft junkie, and intergalactic oddball.
It’s that time of year again — the season when we’re all gently nudged (or not-so-gently shoved by department store displays in mid-October) into believing in magic. The magic of snowflakes and cinnamon, twinkle lights and nostalgia. The magic of believing we can transform our homes into cozy holiday wonderland — armed with nothing but a roll of ribbon, a staple gun, and a cup of cocoa.
And I say, let’s lean in.
Okay, I’ll admit it: when it comes to holiday lawn decorations, I tend to go a little overboard. I’m not quite on Chevy Chase’s level in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” — no full-on electrical grid shutdowns here — but I do love to bring a little seasonal magic to my yard.
Whether it’s pumpkins, scarecrows, or monsters popping out of the bushes, there’s just something satisfying about making your lawn look like it stepped out of a Pinterest board… with a twist.
As any good seasonal decorator knows, once Halloween bows out, fall takes center stage — and it happens fast. One day it’s skeletons and spiderwebs, and the next, everyone’s already sipping cider and talking about Thanksgiving turkeys.
You see, when I moved back home to tackle a master’s degree in journalism, I had to put nearly everything I owned — enough to fill a three-bedroom house — into not one, but two storage units. And there my belongings sat: boxed, stacked, and tucked away like buried treasure. Alongside my couches and cookware were my beloved Halloween decorations, collected and curated over many years.
There’s something about crafting that quiets the noise of everyday life. For me, it’s more than a hobby — it’s a form of therapy. Whenever I’m creating something with my hands, especially something for my home, I feel a deep sense of peace and purpose.
One of my favorite simple DIY projects is a spring wreath I made a while back for my front door. It’s a cheerful, earthy piece that brings a pop of seasonal beauty to my porch — and the best part? It started with a $1 thrift store find.
While researching costume ideas for a Halloween article this year, I stumbled upon a few pet getups that are equal parts adorable, ridiculous, and downright humiliating. If you’ve been dying to embarrass your dog in the most festive way possible, look no further. Here are a few of my favorites:
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