This probably isn’t a big deal to anyone but me, but six months ago I moved to a city I’ve never lived in before, never wanted to live in, and would have put money on the fact I never would live in. 

It doesn’t feel like home, but there are things I like about it. For one thing, it’s a lot smaller than the city I moved from, and the smaller-town feel speaks to my hermit heart. I like the hills and nearby mountains. 

Also, I now live closer to my Beckstead relatives, so that’s notable. Beckstead was not a name I ever heard on a regular basis in my last city, but in this small corner of my state, I hear the name Beckstead a lot more often. I can pretty much guarantee any Beckstead here came from my Becksteads.

I spent my life living far away from cousins and any place connected to my family history. In my new town, my great-great grandfather is buried in the local cemetery. He ran a sawmill here with my great-grandfather. They settled a place originally called Rattlesnake, so named for obvious reasons–there were lots of rattlesnakes there. *Shudder* There are piles and piles of distant cousins living within shouting distance. So that’s kinda fun. 

We had our first snow last week. Early October. Early snow is not okay with me. But I guess one good thing about heavy winters is the option to stay indoors and do lots and lots of writing!

So yeah, there’s an update on me. The above picture was taken out the back window of my new place after our snow last week. Note the sagebrush. It’s everywhere here!