Why does reading comprehension play absolutely no part in how most of you are texting and reading texts?

You are rendering the phone completely pointless when it comes to successful communication.

#TinyThreads

Bookstores used to be my chosen place in which to write, back when Barnes & Noble used to battle Borders Books & Music along Wolf Road, but this country has seemingly given up reading and learning in favor of social media and bullshit.

Today, I find a blank space for writing at any cafe where I can sit with a cup of tea or decaf coffee and let the blog posts and project ideas run in handwritten trails across the lines of paper in a pretty Coach notebook. It’s so pretty it doesn’t mind my run-on sentences – rather, it indulges in them, letting me luxuriate in awkward and unnecessary phrases, losing myself in extra words for the sort of extra person I’ve finally learned to embrace.

On some nights, I’m one of the last people left in the cafe. I can feel the workers’ antsiness, the same feeling I would get when a customer came in five minutes before closing at Structure. How I loathed them for that, and the way they would sometimes eye me and intentionally pull apart a sweater wall I’d just finished putting in place. People do love their little plays of power, especially when they don’t have any of their own.

My march of words rounds the corner and winds its way back to where it began. Swirling around the edge of a coffee cup, it surrounds a wooden stir-stick, somehow stirring of its own volition, but only in my mind. I catch the reality of the scene before letting on what I think I’ve seen. We are, most of us, on the edge of going crazy, so we chalk it up to the surreal.

A surreal sip of cafe culture.

If we consider the back and side yards of our home as its outside rooms, this is the sad point where those rooms begin emptying – in the way the leaves are leaving, the branches are baring, and the ground is tearing itself asunder as the first hard heaving frosts arrive.

Another winter in a winter state is on the way, as we have four solid months of the frigid season in store, and it all starts in December, which is already only a month away. With the time change, the days end quicker, and darkness descends faster. No one ever seems quite ready for it, or so they say. I’m ready, I just don’t embrace it. Tough enough keeping spirits up when the light is high – this is brutal insult to debilitating injury. Woe to those the least bit depressed.

For now, we hang onto the daylight like some trees still hold onto their leaves. A futile effort, but how heartbreakingly human of us to try. Or how tree-like, since the trees were here first.

The outdoor ferns have slipped into their almost-translucent phase – the penultimate act before expiring, and one of the most exquisite and beautiful moments they carry. How poignant that it comes right before their demise, as if they have saved all their energy, and expelled the very last of it, for this time. They will shrivel up and turn brown after these few days, then disintegrate into the ground from which they came, leaving only some bent and broken stalks for me to clear come spring.

Spring – such a happy word, but how very far away it feels, completely over on the other end of the calendar. Best just to focus on the day ahead – there is beauty in fall too, and here it is.

Some people like liquor.

Some people like cars.

Some people like money.

I like cologne and clothing, and this year’s Christmas wish list (shout out to Andy and Mom) is focused on those mainstays; there is nothing new under the sun. And so, without further ado, here is how my current wish-list shakes out – with the proviso that this is only a starting point – other wishes may come later… I reserve the right for more. (For appetizers and stocking stuffers, there’s always my Amazon wish list here– and don’t be afraid to dig deep – some of those item shave been there for years, because they have yet to make it into my home – but I just did a scroll-through and I’m still intrigued by everything there.)

This year’s big ask begins with a new and elusive Tom Ford Private Blend called ‘Amber Intrigue’, which was previously only available at Harrod’s in London. Having lost out on the exquisite ‘London’ Tom Ford offering that was only available there a few years ago, I was thrilled to see that ‘Amber Intrigue’ is now available here for those of us unhappily living outside of London.

Guerlain’s series of spice scents have proven to be bottles of beauty because Guerlain doesn’t mess around. The Guerlain house has been in my blood since I was born, as it was one of the perfumes that my Mom wore during my childhood. On nights when she would be out at class, I’d steal a small spray of it, and on one evening upon tucking me in for the night, my Dad told me I smelled nice. It marked my earliest understanding of the power of perfume, sparking a love affair with fragrance that has lasted to this day. ‘Santal Royal’ is my coveted wish next – and it’s on sale here at this gorgeous discount fragrance site.

Acqua di Parma has an exquisite scent called ‘Luce di Rosa’ which I’ve had my nose on for quite some time after trying it on during a Mother’s Day weekend in NY several years ago – as luck would have it, it’s also available on a major sale right now at this link, so the stars seem to have aligned for this one.

Victoria Beckham will always be my favorite Spice Girl (I still swoon for Posh), and her taste in perfume and clothing has proven sharp and chic over the years. A discovery set of fragrance samples is the most economical offering on this list, and it gives me a chance to see if I want to invest in more. Of course, I’m willing to take a chance on ‘Portofino ’97’, as it is reportedly the stuff of summer heat and timeless beauty – you may be able to find it on sale somewhere, and if not there’s always Bloomingdale’s here. It looks to be a possible summer scent for 2026 – and it’s never too soon to start dreaming about summer.

Finally, one last big-ask, because I’ve been wanting a leopard tote bag for decades now – this one from Reformation is stunning, and a quarter of the price they’re asking for most of the leopard totes available today!

{Reminder: my Amazon wish list here is always a safe buy guide.}

Mercury doesn’t go into official retrograde motion until November 9, but this pre-shadow period is wreaking its typical havoc. I’ve heard whispers by those who deal in such matters that this upcoming bout with Mercurial magic is going to be a good thing for Virgos, but those soothsayers haven’t been right about any of the wonderful things that were supposed to happen for us Virgos over the past few months; my skepticism is high, even as I am open and welcoming to any manifestation of happy events.

For my part, the best way of dealing with both the good or bad periods of life is to remain grounded in a daily meditation practice. This becomes especially important as light drains from the sky and the world grows dimmer by the day. Until we round the winter solstice and the end of the calendar year, meditation is a way to bring a certain element of light and calm into dark and tumultuous days. Winter is indeed coming, and there’s no point in fighting it. Buckle up, buttercups – we’ll walk through this together.

There is darkness in this world too deep and too impenetrable to conquer – a darkness like that of the deepest chasms of the ocean, hidden and obscured beneath tons of pressure, miles of water, untold and uncountable layers of life and death. It’s a darkness that some of us feel more than others, a place that only a few of us can access, and despite our wishes we don’t have much choice in the matter. Why some of us can whisper and engage with this darkness is the stuff of psychology and witchcraft and astrology – anything to make some sense of it, because it’s not meant to make sense, not if we’re the slightest bit cognizant of what is true and what should be just in this wild world.

We seek sanctuary against this darkness, the way we seek a greenhouse in the winter. Maybe it’s in a candle. Maybe it’s in a song. Maybe it’s in a treasured trove of beauty where water trickles from a fountain and beauty is found beneath the frond of a palm tree or a tree fern, newly-watered and smelling of warm earth. A precious place of solace and semi-solitude, where only beautiful things happen – the earthly pleasures and delights our only balm in such a horrendous world.

And so I seek out those spaces and moments, those little sanctuaries that help us through the dark.

Today the full Beaver Moon hangs in the sky, a Super Moon to wreak its lunacy on those of us prone and susceptible to such nonsense, and I most certainly am. Warnings for the mutable signs (such as Virgo) have been coming across my social media for days – and with Mercury about to head into retrograde motion, I’m bracing myself for all that’s to come.

Actually, ‘bracing’ is not the most apt term here, as I’m not holding on rigidly or stubbornly working to keep my footing – instead, I’m going with the flow, even going so far as to forgive myself in advance for falling and faltering and failing. The art of imperfection has been one of the most difficult arts for me to appreciate, but I’ve come around to it, locating its ease and pleasure, and all the things I thought I was too good for in all those tiresome and tiring years. Virgos typically make most of their quests in service of perfection.

For this week, I’m going to attempt to go easy on myself, to leave room for error, to make space for mistakes. To allow myself to be human, and to ask your indulgence in that as well. Endeavoring to make it through the week as quietly and unassumingly as possible, I shall lay low – or is it lie low? In a nod to the sentiment at work, I won’t bother looking that up to correct or perfect it.

Those are superficial imperfections anyway – the real challenge is in accepting my darker and more unhinged tendencies, the petty insecurities and perceived slights, the nagging and gnawing doubts as to my self-worth, the suspicions that the best years are already behind us, and what could possibly be the point going forward?

Treat us kindly this week, dear moon. I loved beavers as a child – I’ve honored you all my life. Teach me, and let me be open and humble enough to receive your lessons.