I wish I could say this in a metaphorical, “life is chaos” sort of way, but no — an actual squirrel. In the house. This happens about once a year, so we have a system: open doors, create an exit path, wait. Usually it works.

Not this time.

This squirrel scampered from windowsill to windowsill, claws skittering, panic escalating. In the process, one of my favorite terra-cotta pots (made by our son in preschool) did not survive.

I saved the shards and thought this would be a great opportunity to try my hand at Kintsugi. Do you know about the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold? I had great hopes for the final result and thought it would be a fun way to spend a cold afternoon.

At first, it was fun.

And then it was frustrating.

In the end, I couldn’t get the pieces to hold. Some things simply don’t go back together, even with the best intentions. And maybe that’s okay too.

If you’ve successfully tried Kintsugi, I’d love to hear what products you used.

Spring is Coming but Winter is Still Here

Outside, spring is quietly practicing its lines.

Tulips are pushing up tidy green spears. Daffodils are everywhere. Candytuft, thrift, and crocus are beginning to bloom. Trees are greening up. Each day brings something new, though nothing is loud or showy yet.

It’s the season of noticing small things.

A quiet insistence: We’re still here. We’re coming back.

And honestly — yay for that.

My Next Book.

In the early morning hours, I’ve been working on my next novel — a sequel to Gracie Lee.

Returning to a familiar character feels like opening a long-closed door and finding everything exactly where you left it… and also completely changed.

Sequels are tricky. They must honor what came before while making space for what comes next. Some mornings the words arrive easily. Other days they resist like stubborn paint refusing to cover the old color beneath. Sometimes the story gathers momentum; sometimes it feels like it may never see the light of day.

But I am writing. And I wanted you to know.

Alabama Fire Crackers

Do you know about these?

If not, you may be better off — they are dangerously addictive and contain exactly zero health benefits (unless shared with friends, which surely counts for something).

After a long day of painting, however, a treat feels justified.

They’re called Alabama Fire Crackers because they’re beloved across the South and generously loaded with red pepper flakes. I follow THIS recipe, with one change: I bake them at 300°F for about 20 minutes to make them extra toasty.

Proceed at your own risk.

Things Momma Says

I eat most of my meals standing up.

So this month has held broken pottery, early blossoms, a few paint spatters, an almost-walking toddler, and fictional lives unfolding sentence by sentence.

In other words: ordinary life, with a few unexpected plot twists.

If there’s a theme running through it all, maybe it’s this — things break, things grow, things get refreshed, things continue. Even after a squirrel invasion. Even in the middle of winter. Even when progress feels slow or invisible.

Especially then.

Wishing you a peaceful Sunday, a glimpse of something blooming where you didn’t expect it, and absolutely no wildlife inside your house.

Talya
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.