2025 was unexpected.

Let’s start with the hard things. We lost two special men—Bill Casper, my grandpa-like neighbor, on May 7, and Tom Bucher, my grandpa, on June 2. And in between, on May 12, I got a text from Devon saying, “No need to worry,” followed by, “I think I ruptured my Achilles.” It was a tough month—along with the ones before and after. I also moved out of my beloved Madison apartment.

But there are always counterweights, right? Beauty coexists with the hard.

January was full of intentional time with good people. We kicked off the year in Madeira Beach, FL, with a family trip. We played games, beat an escape room, bundled up for a cool but sunny beach day, and explored St. Pete. Back in Madison, we attended Beer & Cheese Fest with friends, and I hosted a tea party using my Grandma Riley’s tea set.

Then, more bad. To end the month, I got norovirus. It wiped me out—like camping out in an actual sleeping bag in my tiny bathroom. But then, more good.

I started February with my favorite college crew in Sheboygan for a hygge (hoo-ga) weekend—the Danish concept of cozy contentment. We sat by the fire and gave PowerPoint presentations about recent trips and seasons of life. Hannah made a hot pot spread, and after surviving on grilled cheese, it felt a li’l risky but was perfect. Later in the month, Devon and I celebrated our anniversary with dinner at Heritage Tavern, a show at the Overture Center, and martinis at The Stuffed Olive.

March started at the bowling alley (gotta get your annual bowl in). The following weekend, Devon planned an early-birthday trip to Lake Geneva for me. We had drinks at a converted church brewery, made candles, and saw The Big Al Wetzel Band (the inspo for the trip). Famously, the first time I heard this band, I told my sister I wanted them to play at my funeral. On this trip, Devon bought me a watercolor book, sparking a new hobby. Later in the year, I took a watercolor class and have kept dabbling.

Later in March, I spent my 33rd birthday in Florida with my parents. My mom and I kayaked on my birthday and saw a manatee—so special. We also thrifted, one of my favorite activities. And I ended the month in Green Bay with friends, where we decided on our fall trip: Japan!

In April, I attended the Hands Off! protest in Madison—a reminder that many people are working toward a more just world. Later in the month, Devon’s mom and her friend visited us. We tried a new favorite Pakistani restaurant, Sultan. April also included Easter with my family in Fond du Lac, seeing Good Neighbors at High Noon Saloon, and an extended weekend in Green Bay for the NFL Draft.

In May, we started our mattress shopping journey. It was tedious. We awkwardly laid on mattresses while salespeople explained specs. I giggled a lot. Devon says I have no composure, but really—lying on a mattress while someone talks to you about foam density is hilarious. And you have to decide whether to make eye contact. Eventually, we tripled our budget and bought a Verlo. For two months, I woke up with numb hands. Not ideal. The mattress guys came back this week, added another layer of latex, and said, “If your hands fall asleep after this, you’re gonna need a new sleeping position.” So far, so good.

May also brought paddleboard season—lots of time on Lake Wingra and Lake Mendota. (For Christmas, Devon’s parents gifted me an electric paddleboard pump that I cannot wait to use.) May also meant a return to balcony hangouts with friends. They felt bittersweet knowing I was moving, but spoiler: they’ve continued in the new place.

May was also Achilles month. Devon ruptured his right Achilles tendon while playing rec soccer on May 12. We spent the evening in the ER. Surgery followed, then months of PT. He quickly learned to drive with his left foot—a true soccer player. Soccer giveth and taketh.

While recovering on the couch, Devon tried my boba tea for the first time. After pulling a tapioca pearl from his mouth, he asked, genuinely confused, “What are you?” He spent the month knee-scootering around. 

In June, we celebrated my grandpa’s life—a beautiful day in Fond du Lac surrounded by people who loved him.

June also introduced me to a new favorite Madison tradition: the full moon paddle. A musician plays from a floating pontoon while you paddle under the moon. There are fire pits on the water where you can roast marshmallows. It sounds more dangerous than it is. (I think.) Liz, Hannah, and I had the best time.

Summer was full of paddling, hammocking, festivals, and my favorite six-week tradition: Concerts on the Square. I lay out blankets early and invite friends to picnic. I love an excuse to drink wine outside with friends.

Summer was full of packing, unpacking, and adjusting. Managing an Achilles recovery, two moves, and grief all at once is not something I recommend—but we did it.

Summer also brought the first Riley cousin wedding, Matt and Amanda. Sarah and James flew home to attend, after which we spent the 4th of July Up North, as is tradition. But not before we moved Devon out, got our keys to the new place, moved in, and drove 4 hours up north… ALL on July 3. CHAOS.

It was a different 4th of July vacation without my Grandpa. It was a smaller crew, and three of my four cousins didn’t make the trip—one for the birth of a baby. We hosted a small gathering to celebrate my grandpa at his local pub, and when we returned home, we were greeted by the most beautiful full rainbow over Lake Imogene. So incredible. I cry thinking about it. There are always counterweights.

I spent the remainder of July packing up my own apartment. I don’t think I would have ever felt fully ready to leave that space; it was so special. It will always be the place that made me fall in love with Madison—where I built a new community, accepted a dream job, where I started dating again, appreciated so many sunrises and thunderstorms, and where I truly thrived. That building, and the people in it, were special.

Moving into our new unit has been a transition. The building is on the opposite end of the spectrum for a communal vibe; the neighbors are incredibly reserved. But we’re working on ‘em. And we’re enjoying our time together, the lake view, sunsets, park, square footage (two separate floors!), and, of course, the dishwasher.

August 1 was another whirlwind day. I officially moved out of my apartment by 9 AM. And was camping with friends by 5 PM. “Who’s in charge of my schedule?” she asks, while panting. But it was much-needed time with the college crew. And we actually had good weather. (We have a history of camping during thunderstorms.)

The following weekend, Devon’s family visited us, and my parents joined for a bit. The next weekend, we took a trip to Duluth, MN, with friends and had a great time. And THEN, we spent a long weekend in Copenhagen. (At this point, while writing this, I can’t believe it’s only Labor Day. It was a YEAR.)

I had been to Copenhagen before, but this was my first time visiting Europe in the summer, and we loved it. Thankfully, Devon was out of his walking boot in time. Highlights were Reffen, Tivoli, sauna at Plugin Heat Club, and dinner at Høst.

I kicked off October at Lake Eau Claire for a now-annual retreat weekend with friends I met while living in Menomonie. It’s a reflective, intentional weekend, and I always leave feeling recentered. We had beautiful, summer-like weather and enjoyed bonfires by the lake.

The second half of the month was spent in Japan! Highlights: exploring Tokyo, omakase sushi (“chef’s choice”), raccoon dogs, a traditional tea ceremony, discovering gyukatsu (deep-fried beef cutlets), Otagi Nenbutsu-ji Temple, teamLab Planets, dining at the Awashima Hotel restaurants, seeing Mt. Fuji from our hotel rooms, and traveling with friends—especially ones who are pros at navigating public transit.

Unhighlight of Japan: realizing murder hornets are a thing. And seeing them in real life. Do not recommend.

The weekend after returning from Japan, we hosted a housewarming party: Flannels & Fizz. We had the best time. We made soups and cocktails. I can’t overstate how special it is to have so many friends in the same place.

The year ended with weddings, time with family, snowstorms, crafts, books, and a NYE that lasted until 3:30 AM, fueled by Minute to Win It games and stack cup.

This year was good, bad, and beautiful, all tangled together. It was calm sunsets and whitecaps on the lake. It was exhaustion and laughter. It was deep grief and deep joy. It was a barrage of social events—blocking a weekend for rest. It was being wiped out by illness. Recovering and healing. Laughing with friends. Sobbing in the shower. It was silent tears as I stood on my balcony for the last time—and silent tears as I reflect on it all now. 

Life is devastatingly beautiful. 

And 2025 held it.