Closing Welcoming Haven

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 A Comedy of Errors (Mostly Mine)

When Your Online Store Has More Tumbleweeds Than Customers

I have an announcement today, and don’t worry — it’s not about another sale, coupon code, or “limited‑time offer.” Welcoming Haven, my brave little online store, is officially closing its virtual doors. If this were a movie, this is the part where the sad violin music plays while a single cardboard box gets carried out of an empty warehouse.

For seven months, I gave it everything I had: money, time, energy, and enough tears to qualify as a small saltwater ecosystem. I followed every expert tip, every “success is just around the corner!” pep talk, and every “don’t give up!” message from people who, frankly, weren’t the ones paying the bills.

And then tax season arrived like a spotlight at a crime scene. Let’s just say the numbers were… enlightening. I won’t share the total amount I spent on setup, ads, and fees, but I will say this: I lost my Amazon affiliate status because I couldn’t drive three qualifying sales in six months. Three. I have two cats who knock more things off tables in a day than I sold in half a year.

The Great Traffic Mystery (or: 6,000 Visitors and Not One Buyer)

At one point, paid ads brought in over 6,000 visits a week. Six. Thousand. That’s more people than live in some small towns. And yet not a single one of them clicked “add to cart.” I’m convinced some of them were just bots wandering the internet looking for snacks.

When the ad budget finally tapped out, traffic dropped to about 300 visits a week. You can imagine the math. Actually, don’t. It’s depressing.

Shopify eventually suggested I hire a consultant, and one was recommended. He worked on commission, which means he made exactly as much money as I did: zero. I’m guessing Welcoming Haven won’t be featured in his portfolio of success stories.

What’s Next (Besides Not Crying Over Abandoned Carts)

So yes, Welcoming Haven is closing. I’m sharing this not for sympathy, but because if anyone out there is thinking of starting an online store, I want you to know the truth: it’s not all sunshine, passive income, and “I made $10,000 my first month!” You can work hard, be honest, and do everything right — and still end up with a store that’s basically a very expensive hobby.

I’ll still share the occasional affiliate link for products I genuinely like, but I promise not to turn Around Dusty Roads into a nonstop infomercial. This space has always been about stories, curiosity, and connection, and that’s where I’m happiest.

Maybe I’m not cut out for e‑commerce, but I am cut out for writing, exploring, and laughing at myself — and that’s exactly what I plan to keep doing.

Last Day is February 26

 

Marinara vs. Pizza Sauce

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What’s the Real Difference?

You’re in the grocery store planning a simple pizza night. As you scan the shelves, you see rows and rows of pasta sauces… and then a tiny little section labeled Pizza Sauce. Why so many options for one and barely any for the other? And what actually makes them different?

I wondered the same thing, so I asked. Here’s what I learned from my conversation with AI.
(And no—I haven’t tried this tweak yet, but it certainly makes sense.)

🍅 Marinara Sauce

Think: bright, chunky, quick‑cooked tomato goodness.

  • Made with crushed tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, and herbs
  • Cooked briefly, giving it a fresh, tangy, lighter flavor
  • Thinner consistency
  • Great for pasta, dipping, chicken parm, and more
  • Simple seasoning—no sugar, nothing heavy

 

 

🍕 Pizza Sauce

Think: thicker, richer, and built to handle high heat.

  • Often made from uncooked or lightly cooked tomatoes (many pizzerias use raw purée)
  • Seasoned more boldly: oregano, basil, garlic, onion powder, sometimes a touch of sugar
  • Thicker so it won’t make the dough soggy
  • Designed to hold up under high oven heat and melt right into the cheese

The Easiest Way to Remember

  • Marinara = pasta
  • Pizza sauce = dough + cheese + high heat

You can swap them if you’re in a pinch. If you’re making one of your skillet pizzas, marinara will work—just simmer it a bit longer so it thickens and doesn’t soak into the crust.

🍕 The 5‑Minute Tweak to Turn Marinara Into Pizza Sauce

If all you have is marinara but you want that classic pizzeria flavor, this quick fix does the trick.

🔥 What to Do

Warm your marinara in a small pan and let it gently simmer to thicken. Then add:

  • A pinch of oregano
  • A pinch of garlic powder (yes, even if there’s fresh garlic already)
  • A tiny pinch of onion powder
  • A small pinch of sugar if the sauce tastes too acidic
  • Optional: a spoonful of tomato paste for extra body

🎯 What You Get

  • A thicker sauce that won’t soak into your crust
  • A deeper, more concentrated flavor
  • That unmistakable “pizza sauce” aroma

It’s a tiny tweak, but it makes a noticeable difference—especially for skillet pizzas, where the sauce needs to stay put and let the crust crisp up beautifully.

 

Wreck‑It Banner and the 5 A.M. Meow Choir

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Banner’s Brilliant (and Infuriating) Brain Returns

Sometimes Banner is just too smart for his own good — and definitely too smart for my sleep schedule. He’s back to his old tricks, and I’m one light‑switch incident away from investing in blackout curtains and earplugs.

The First Time He Turned on the Bathroom Light

He was still just a kitten when he learned how to flip the bathroom light on. I’ll never forget that moment. The bathroom is right off the bedroom, and suddenly my whole room lit up like a Broadway stage. I shot awake convinced someone had broken in… only to find one very satisfied orange cat who had apparently decided I’d slept long enough.

Banner Making himself at home in the bathroom sink

Between turning the light on and his other favorite pastime — opening the medicine cabinet and knocking everything onto the floor — my chances of a full night’s sleep were slim. My solution back then was simple: childproof covers on the switch and closing the bathroom door at bedtime. Peace returned.

For a while.

The New Trick: The Fan Switch at 3 A.M.

Now Banner has discovered the second switch — the one outside the bathroom that controls the vent fan and a dimmer light. Not as bright, but that fan hum at 3 a.m. could wake the dead. There’s nothing quite like rolling over and seeing the bathroom door outlined in a soft glow… and realizing the switch now has tiny teeth marks.

Look closely. You can see a tiny tooth mark

 

Yes, teeth marks. Banner doesn’t bump the switch — he bites it. My own little Wreck‑It Ralph in fur.

At least he hasn’t figured out how to open the door. Yet.

Looks like I’ll be buying more childproof switch covers. Again.

Balboa the Bed Hog and Banner the Bench Sleeper

Banner may be the engineer of chaos, but he’s not the cuddler. He prefers sleeping on the bench next to the bed, keeping a dignified distance. Balboa, on the other hand, wants to sleep on my face. Since I only have a twin bed, space is limited — and Balboa takes the lion’s (or should I say panther’s) share.

If I get up in the night, he immediately stretches his full, impressive length across the entire mattress. No room for Mama. And if I try to move him? Deeply offended.

Balboa’s rather impressive length

The 5 A.M. Meow Choir

Between the nighttime shenanigans and the early morning wake‑up calls — Banner usually starts the meow choir around 5 a.m., with Balboa chiming in for harmony — I spend most days wandering around in a sleep‑deprived fog.

Kitty Choir in 2 part harmony

Life with cats can be such a joy.

 

Home Cooks, Count Your Blessings

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 The 1950s Kitchen Rulebook

Every now and then, the internet serves up a list that makes you stop and say, “Thank goodness times have changed.” Recently I stumbled across a set of 20 rules women were supposedly expected to follow in the 1950s kitchen. Now, we all know that if it’s on the internet it must be true — but even if only half of these were real, it was quite an era to learn to cook in.

I grew up in the 1950s, so I couldn’t resist taking a walk down memory lane to see how I measure up to some of these old expectations. Here are the twenty rules, along with my own modern‑day scorecard.

Dinner on the Table and Meat Every Night

The first rule insisted dinner be ready the moment the husband walked in. I dodged that one — no husband, and I worked outside the home for years. If I’d tried to meet that rule, takeout would’ve been my best friend.

As for meat at every meal? That one stuck. I grew up with it, and to this day I’m a committed carnivore. A vegetarian life is not in my future.

Canned Goods, Perfect Presentation, and Mild Spices

We had an entire basement wall lined with canned goods, even though we had a garden. I still keep a few cans around, but fresh has definitely taken over.

Presentation, though? That 1950s standard lives on in me. After putting effort into a meal, I want it to look good. Maybe that’s a throwback, maybe it’s just pride.

Spices were simple back then — salt, pepper, paprika, garlic. Honestly, those are still my kitchen staples, though I’m slowly branching out.

Leftovers, Dessert, and the Clean‑As‑You‑Go Kitchen

Leftovers were never disguised in our house — they were celebrated. When I was working, I planned weekend meals specifically to create leftovers for the week.

Dessert every night was also the norm. Sometimes it was just pudding or Jell‑O, but it was something sweet. I still like a little treat, though these days it’s more likely berries or an orange.

 

And the clean kitchen rule? That one I follow religiously. With a tiny kitchen, cleaning as I go keeps me sane.

Recipes, Meal Structure, and Children at the Table

I still follow new recipes exactly the first time, then tweak them later. And yes, the old “meat, starch, vegetable, bread, dessert” structure is still in my bones — though I happily skip the starch if I’m in the mood for two veggies instead.

Kids were expected to eat what was served. That was true in my childhood home, and I doubt I’d ever be the type to cook two separate meals.

No One Sees the Effort — and Cooking Was “Women’s Work”

I admit it: I prefer to cook alone. “Help” usually slows me down.

Cooking being a woman’s responsibility? That was the norm then, but thankfully not now. Just look at all the men dominating the cooking channels.

The idea that a woman’s morals were reflected in her meals? That one feels downright silly today. I never felt that kind of pressure — and I wish I could ask my mother what she thought of it.

Entertaining, Brand Names, and the Noise at the Table

Entertaining meant elaborate menus, and I confess I still fall into that habit. I always made sure there was plenty of food — no tiny portions at my gatherings.

Brand loyalty was huge in the 50s. I’m slowly breaking that habit, even though my brain still insists the name brand “tastes better,” even when it probably doesn’t.

As for quiet meals? Not in our house. Dinner was loud, lively, and full of overlapping conversations.

Repeating Meals, Waste Not, and the Cook Eats Last

Repeating meals was frowned upon, but leftovers took care of that. I repeat meals simply because I like them.

 

Throwing food away because it wasn’t pretty? Absolutely not. Presentation matters, but not that much.

And yes — the cook eating last was a real thing, especially on holidays. Mom always made sure every dish made it to the table before she sat down.

A 1950s Kid’s Takeaway

So there you have it — my rundown of the 1950s kitchen rulebook. Some habits stuck, some faded, and some never made sense in the first place.

What about you — did you grow up with any of these rules, or do you still follow a few without even realizing it?

Dreaming in Railcars

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Revisiting Train Travel on Around Dusty Roads

Returning to My Travel Roots

Let’s harken back to the early days of Around Dusty Roads. When I first launched this blog, it was meant to be a place to share my trips, vacations, and travel experiences—my little corner of the internet where I could relive adventures and maybe inspire a few of you along the way. Over time, as life shifted and travel slowed, the blog naturally evolved into a “bit of everything” space. That’s what happens when you stop hopping on planes and start navigating retirement budgets instead.

I’ve certainly slowed down, and while I adjust to new spending habits, travel has taken a back seat. But as my recent posts have shown, I can still wander in my mind. And who knows—maybe someday I’ll get back to exploring in person.

Let’s Talk Train Vacations

Today, I want to toss the ball back to you, my friendly readers. What do you think of train vacations?

My sister and I once took a 7‑day Amtrak trip to San Antonio, Texas, and New Orleans, Louisiana. It was interesting—quirky in places, scenic in others—and I’d absolutely try something like that again. I’ve also long dreamed of riding the Coast Starlight down California’s coastline between Seattle and Los Angeles. Then again, I’d be just as happy driving it so I could stop and explore every overlook and beach town along the way.

The Rocky Mountaineer: A Bucket‑List Ride

Another rail adventure that has lived rent‑free in my imagination is a journey across the Canadian Rockies. There are several trains that make the trip, but the one I hear about most often is the Rocky Mountaineer.

Their ads paint quite a picture:
“With routes to Jasper, Banff and Lake Louise, the Rocky Mountaineer train winds through the heart of the Canadian Rockies, showcasing untouched terrain you can only see by rail.”

From what I’ve learned, the Rocky Mountaineer offers two levels of service. GoldLeaf features a full double‑dome glass car with an outdoor viewing platform, while SilverLeaf offers oversized panoramic windows and gourmet meals served at your seat. Both are daylight‑only journeys, which means you never miss the scenery—towering peaks, turquoise rivers, and valleys that look like they were sketched by an artist with a very generous imagination.

The downside? The price tag. It looks every bit as expensive as an Alaska cruise, maybe more. And I’m curious about the comfort level. When we took the train in Alaska, they packed us in so tightly it felt like strangers were practically sitting in our laps. Our Texas trip was more comfortable—we even had a tiny sleeping car, but at least it was ours.

Sugar Cane Field- View Form the train 2015

Your Turn, Readers

So, dear readers, have any of you taken the Rocky Mountaineer? Was it worth the splurge? How crowded did it feel? Did the scenery live up to the hype?

I’d love to hear your experiences and thoughts. After all, even if I’m not traveling much these days, your stories help keep the wanderlust alive.