thankful

Well, it's that time of year again. That time of year when we are supposed to reflect on all the reasons we have to be thankful. Being thankful is a concept easier said than actually done. I believe we live in a selfish, more is more society. I would like to believe that idea is changing slowly and we are getting back to our roots and what really is important, but for the time being it is what it is. We are still so impressed with what others have and let our petty jealousies get in the way of actually accomplishing our own goals and learning to be grateful for that. One may wonder why they got the short end of the stick while that guy over there makes more money or has a car that never needs fixed or shops at the expensive grocery store instead of standing in line with people in their slippers. So caught up are we in other people's business we often overlook what is staring us smack in the face. I have to admit my material wants do not motivate me to do better. Yes, of course I wish I could shop at Anthropologie every week, but is it really important? When one has a family to support, do I really need $200 pants? As I have stated many a time over the past 2 years, the only thing I long for is good old stability. It is the ONLY goal I have not achieved. I live on this slippery slope of trying to juggle store, house, and family expenses. Groceries or inventory? Gas bills or new clothes for my growing like a weed child? Living like this for so long starts to drag you down. I start to feel like all the grousing I've done over our financial situation and my husband's employment status is becoming my persona. I'm starting to feel like the person at the grocery wearing their pajamas. As mentioned above, it's far easier to say you're thankful than to actually BE thankful. Today during one of our endless discussions my husband mentioned how far he's come in his career. This took me by surprise because in my head career advancement equates financial advancement. As he explained all the experience he's racked up over the few years, making him a better job candidate, I couldn't help but hate myself for my bitter and resentful feelings. This man knows how to be thankful. He understands that it's not always the big picture, but the steps one takes to get to the main event. I have a hard time being patient while he takes all these steps. I'm too focused on how tired I am from the stress of the bills and the weight of it all.  I'm the one that has to stop obsessing about what we DON'T have and start being thankful for all we DO have. So here goes, I am thankful for my life. In a nutshell that's it. I could have millions and not have my family. I could be working in a stuffy cubicle staring at someone's cankles while I daydream of better jobs. I could get model thin by not eating cheese, but how the Hell would I enjoy the pizza I love so much. Trite examples I know, but you get the message. We only get one life (that we know of) and it's up to us to figure out how to make this life that is happening right now the best it can possibly be. So look at your family, your dog, your cat, your house, apartment, car, bike, what have you and just be thankful. Be happy you are here. Goodnight world.

escape

October is quickly becoming another of my least favorite months, next to February that is. At least February is short unlike October's 31 days. The only saving grace of October is Halloween. Halloween with all its parties, costumes, scary movies, and of course trick or treating. Engulfed in all this escapism and revelry certainly takes my mind off the endless worries. My husband's career situation is enough to put me in the loony bin and with these frostier temperatures I am unable to jump on my board on a whim and let the lake take away my troubles. Oh sure I could head into the icy waters now, but the lake is a moody bitch and sometimes I just don't feel so brave staring into the churning wavy water. I'll leave that for the surfers. For now I have to find my escape elsewhere. As stated, Halloween is wonderful for all things that go bump in the night and I do love a classic scary movie. Give me Mike Myers or Damien any day. Jamie Lee Curtis turning around to find the creepy grown up kid in the hedges or the weird nanny jumping from the gables all for Damien give me a scary thrill. I have also reawakened my undying love for Stephen King plowing through three books in three weeks just to busy my troubled mind. I couldn't help but compare our government furlough situation to life Under the Dome and it's always nice to revisit the Overlook Hotel no matter what ghosties were left behind. Joyland is definitely a new favorite so enamored with the south am I. Who wouldn't love an old amusement park on the beach with a little murder thrown in? Escaping into costume and another persona was also fun for a night. My husband's sexy seventies Sonny Bono mustache had me catching my breath every time he looked my way. The handlebar toughness a surprising contrast to his more mild-mannered ways. Dressing our son as a policeman reminiscent of Reno 911 was also a welcome diversion. Watching him stay in serious character at his school festival had us holding our sides laughing, he is just so quirky. Halloween with the tiny cop and Grammy Diva should definitely be entertaining. It can't be Halloween every day so exercise is also another go-to for clearing my head. I have spent countless hours walking, running, swimming and now I've rediscovered the lovely benefits of spinning. Pounding out "hills" on a stationary bike while bass thumping music blasts into my head, sweat dripping, is quite the rush. This may just become my new obsession until warmer weather is bestowed. With all these lovely distractions, you may wonder how I find time to even worry, well let's just say I'm very familiar with three a.m. Three a.m. and I are going to be very good friends until my husband starts back to work and the holidays arrive with the hustle and bustle of Christmas profits. Until then I will open my new book, pour a margarita, and register for tomorrow night's spin class. Good evening world.

back in the saddle

Wow, a whole month without a post and what a whirlwind of a month it was! Vacation ended and school started along with my workload. Once I got the boss settled in class for the year, I than had two weeks to completely empty my store to prep for the remodel. After living with a dingy, sagging drop ceiling for nine years it finally began to fall and as promised my landlord ripped the whole ugly structure down and replaced with a nice new high plaster ceiling and a LOT of fluorescent lights. So many lights you could see my store from the moon. Emptying a store can be as hard as filling a space. After a few big sales my inventory was thankfully diminished and the last of it loaded on a giant truck to go to my flea market extravaganza. My garage stuffed full of my hoarding was also loaded onto the giant truck. Once my cohort and I arrived in the country it was more hauling of furniture, this time off the truck. Twenty-six feet packed full of vintage wares and than the rain started. Scurrying to get everything under the one assembled tent was challenging along with assembling the other large canopy. Being doused by another dealer's rain run off wasn't very enjoyable either. Five hours later the truck was empty, tents were up, and wine was opened with friends. Off to the motel, cheese and crackers for dinner and than up at the crack of dawn to start the next 3 days. Three days of buying, selling, wind and rain, airlifted tents, broken lamps, tying down hovering tent, and ninety degree heat. Now you wonder if it's such a pain in the ass, why do it? Because we have fun! Meeting new friends, making fun new contacts, afternoon cocktails with visiting friends, carny food, margaritas, lots of laughing and of course there is always dancing on Saturday night. Nothing like girlfriends having a good time. Well, after loading the truck back up with the remnants and new stuff on Sunday and heading back to Cleveland to empty and return truck, this chick was done. Exhausted. Three days of work, fun, and fattening food. I longed for my family and a home cooked meal. Since the store was still under construction I took advantage of the time and braved the waves of Lake Erie on my paddle board. By the fourth day the lake had calmed and I was able to take 2 blessed uninterrupted hours and clear my head. Once we got the go ahead it was back to the grind. My husband thankfully handled the mess left by the workers and I got to work painting furniture and Halloween window displays. More emptying of the garage, one day to set up and I was back open for business! Wow. Bleary eyed, I almost cried when it was all done, so relieved was I. Closing and opening a business all in 3 weeks is a Hell of a load and until you've moved all the merchandise and painted floors and walls and furniture and displays with a flea market 3 hours away thrown in for shits and  giggles and some fierce "surfing" for relaxation, oh and providing refreshments and taking care of a family, well it's just a lot. Fortunately I have a supportive husband and love my job because this little business is how I feed my family and take care of my bills. This 1000 square feet of vintage love that has become part of my soul and part of the community. A community that continues to support my "cause" and keep me in business. Time off is great, but boy is it nice to get back to normal and back in the saddle. Good night world.

freedom

Well here we go again. Another school year off and running. I swear I was just writing about the end of school, so quickly the summer flew. This year instead of moving on to kindergarten my young five year old is getting one more round of pre-k. Smart as a whip, he is like most boys, slow to mature. Spending the summer attached to my side has lead to a bit of separation anxiety when we get to class. He is not used to this new group of younger kids. Big and strong he towers over most. Tough yet sensitive his tears can break your heart in two. This is where I find myself today. As I peeked back in the classroom he was crying in his teacher's arms. Good Lord, did I really have to look back? By sheer force of will I walked myself out of that school with my heart breaking and promptly went to the park and walked off 5 miles of emotion. This is what I waited for all summer. My schedule, my own free time, freedom. Unfortunately my freedom is fraught with feelings of uncertainty. Not used to seeing such an independent child so clingy is disconcerting. I know it should make me feel more loved, more wanted, but it only causes emotional confusion. If you love them, set them free the saying goes and I know at the end of the day he will come back to me a little more secure in his surroundings. Each day will get easier, it IS only the first week of school. This became my mantra as I circled that park, quickly putting each mile behind me. Gazing at the lake I was again reminded that summer has not ended for this mom. Dreaming of my new sport and the next opportunity to get on the water brought a small smile to my face. By the end of my trek, my head was clear and I knew my child was in good hands. I knew the tears had stopped and he was busy helping and leading the smaller ones. So today I go off to my shop, alone, quiet, and somewhat peaceful. Tomorrow I can hunt for furniture or get on my paddle board or have coffee with my husband or get ready for the next big flea market. Whatever I do, I know my time belongs to me until that moment when the bell rings and he comes crashing into my arms and I am all his again. I love my freedom, but I love this sensitive rough and tumble child most of all. Good morning world.

surf's up

There is no traffic. There are no people. There is no noise except a gentle slap,slap,slap as water strikes the underside of my paddle board while I glide over what lies beneath. The sky is turquoise and the sun high and bright, sparkles like diamonds as it hits the water's surface. The water is cool and green and barely a ripple breaks the calm. This is my therapy. In fact after the initial cost it is cheaper than any therapist. One stop shop for a summer of inner peace. Trying to find ways to cope with daily life can get to be a grind. I can only run so much, write so much, bake so much, but when my feet hit that board I am complete. I've never been a sporty person. I've never owned any kind of equipment so used to renting if I felt the need to release the inner jock. Fact of the matter, money and space constraints put a damper on having my own gear. This was different. I suppose I was hooked after the challenge of trying to get back to land after a sudden wind nearly swept my friend and I off to Canada(see 2 posts ago). Strange way to start my watery affair. After my third attempt in much calmer water I announced to my husband I was buying a board. He gave me that look that close friends and coworkers know all too well. That look that lets me know when he thinks I'm loony. My husband is all earth and matter of fact and one would think he'd be used to his wife's flights of fancy by now. First question out of his mouth mentioned the money. Yeah, yeah, whatev. I know it's expensive. I also know I will probably never have a boat or even my own pool, but this, this was doable. So I took some of that big money(well, big for us) he earned this summer and bought myself 12 feet of aqua and white fiberglass complete with leash, paddle, and pfd. I had the front of the board strung for stowing light cargo and a friend hooked me up with a waterproof cell phone case. Good to go. The minute I had the board in my possession I was off and running, well paddling. Meeting up with wild woman for a sunset paddle an hour after I had my board was positively magical. Repeating the same evening on my birthday a few days later was breathtaking. The water was glassy and the sun was a giant fiery ball of orange as it slipped behind the cliff while our 3 silhouettes paddled in to the beach. Now all this talk of cool calm water is great, but lest we forget this is Lake Erie we're talking about, the most shallow of the Great Lakes. Lake Erie can turn on a dime and I have spent a few hours in some choppy, wavy water. Crazy as it sounds, I enjoy this just as much as the stillness. I suppose I am a closet adrenaline junkie because when I "surfed" my first "big" wave I think I actually did a fist pump and I don't do that. That feeling of power and control over the water while being able to stay on my board was intoxicating! So dear readers, now you know why I've been away from my computer for so long. My love affair with my paddle board and that lake has taken over like the colder temps are about to take over our fair city. I am holding out though. Summer is not over until the lake tells me so. Good night world.

beach house

It is not a fancy house. It is not a big house. There is no swimming pool or brightly hued exterior. The furniture is knotty pine 1970's discards mixed with Miami Vice era white formica. The shower and tubs are the same harvest gold insert they've been for at least 25 years. The stove is still electric and the dishwasher was only added in the last few years. The old wood desk has sat by the side door manning the entrance for as long as I can remember. In fact the whole place has that feel of abandoned college dorm furniture meets summer rental. What does set this beige sided structure apart from say the bright orange monstrosity down the road is the fact that it sits on stilts in the middle of a sand dune facing the Atlantic Ocean. Climbing the steps to the porch one is smacked in the face with the view of sea, sand, and surf. The kudzu creeps through the sand while the sea oats wave in the salty wind. The weathered dock leading to paradise is old, creaky, and very splintery. The meeting place in the middle still holds memories from past margarita nights. This house, this special place has been my home away from home for 27 years. Every August I have made the trek to this beach, my beach to restore my senses or lose sight of them depending on the company. I do not own the house, in fact that honor belongs to Carol in Boca, but for one week a year it is mine. My respite. My getaway from normal life, stress, what have you. The house has hosted many a family member, friend, dog, even a shot gun bride. It has withstood countless hurricanes and heat spells. It has remained in the same hands through death and in my hands even through my parent's divorce. Like the ocean claiming the beach, I claim this house. I will not let go. I will work my tail off in order to pay the steep weekly rate. All worth it for this little slice of time where I can let go, not shower, eat shrimp until I'm sick, read for hours and best of all share it with my little family and the friends I love. The memories this house has cultivated over the years is what stays with me and brings us back each summer. Laughter and love all lulled by the sound of crashing waves. Salt air mixed with the briny scent of the ocean floods the senses as soon as we open the car doors. Shaking off the midwest pace and slowing down to a southern crawl rejuvenates my soul and I am loathe to leave. Alas the end approaches and I feel my gears starting to wind up again. I am sunburned, sandy, and hair like straw, but I am happy. I have spent the week with people I love and my heart is full again. Best of all, I know this modest cottage will be waiting for me in exactly 365 days when I can reclaim it as mine if only for a short time. Good afternoon world.

One wet summer

Let me just preface this post dear readers with a great big apology for my absence. I cannot believe it has been 2 months since I sat down to write about my crazy world. Well, settle in because this may take a bit for we have a lot of catching up to do! Summer certainly has washed by in one big torrential wave. Honestly, I do not like to complain about weather matters in the rust belt, but this never ending tumultuous gray sky and daily downpour are starting to make me a bit goofy. Ok, enough about the weather. For me summer never kicks off until I go to my annual flea market in southern Ohio. This year I changed my tune and instead of adding to my hoarding I decided to boost our income and sell my vintage wares. Grabbing a girlfriend I barely knew we headed south in our 20 foot "rig" to spend 4 packed days together. Let me tell you, I have never worked so hard and had so much fun! My small bout with bronchitis that had me coughing like a coal miner miraculously ended in time for me to get down and dirty. Hauling furniture, standing on my feet for hours at a time, talking to hundreds of people, assembling endless displays over and over as my merchandise disappeared at a fast rate all ending with a giant cocktail(or 2 or 3) with my other wild girlfriend. Collapsing into bed in our run down room at night only to do it all over again the next day. Country bands, cowboys, carnival food, margaritas and good friends about sums it up. We even have slumber party tales to tell of wild child's crazy boyfriend and his freight train snoring which left us unable to succumb to our wine induced sleep. He will not be sharing our room next time. After the excitement of Springfield it took me a little while to get back to reality, so much that my girlfriend and I took one more day of fun, sun, and old junk. When the school year's final bell rang later that week, I was ready for summer! Unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans which ended with my girlfriend and I nearly being swept to Canada on our paddle boards. Father's Day came and went in a rainy muggy haze. Fourth of July began with gray skies and very slowly turned to blue just in time for barbecue and fireworks. Another round of paddle boarding with my nephew and his girlfriend gave us water smooth as glass and a hint of blue sky. A day at the pool with my girlfriend and our boys felt like heaven until the approaching gray forced us out and our dinner plans in. Sitting in her garage amongst the junk, rosee in our hands, rain drippin down, was as close to normal as we know. Now here we are just barely 3 weeks away from two big store events and our annual trek to the beach. Now is crunch time and I swear my anxiety is off the hook. Time to pay the rent, the BIG beach deposit and the rest of the bills. Yay. After this week, when the checks (hopefully) clear, I can breathe, paint furniture, and pack our suitcases because a week at the beach is just what this busy, working family needs. Time together, time with Uncle Rob,  and time to stuff my face with endless pounds of shrimp! I swear if one rain drop falls, I'm jumping off that pier! So my friends, there you go. A recap of all things summer in this little life of mine. I promise next time, it won't be as long as it's been. Good night world and stay dry.

Happy Mother's Day

Four and a half years ago I became a mother. While pregnant I had all these romantic notions about motherhood and how I would raise my child. I vowed to never get overly- emotional or neurotic. I vowed to always lay on the floor and play with the plethora of planes, trains, and automobiles along with blocks, crayons, paints, etc. I vowed to never let him go to sleep upset. Now my child is at the end of his toddler years, in fact sometimes he acts so grown up I swear he's really 14 trapped in a 48" tall body. Having a boy presents many challenges because he never seems to run out of energy. My child is also strong-willed and independent. Thank God. My child is exactly as I want him to be. He is equal parts my husband and I. As far as all those romantic notions go, I am powerless at what was passed down to me. I have inherited my mother's hair trigger nerves so noises and yelling tend to make me edgey. This doesn't bode well when raising a boy because they are boundless balls of energy, noise, and dirt. Going to bed upset after bathtime tantrums is just inevitable, but I still try to kiss and soothe. Oh and those toys. I have spent hours building Thomas the train tracks and coloring anything put in front of me or making huge block towers. I must say though, my husband is much better at this part. His patience is infinite. As the past few years have gone by we have all settled into our relationship as parents and child. Never having children before leaves a lot to get used to when doing this for the first and ONLY time. I am able to mostly ignore a lot of the random shouts or kicks or when he rushes by and smacks me in the belly as a sort of weird high five to his mom. Little boys like to show their love by doing annoying things just to get your attention. My child likes to lick my face like a dog because he knows how much it irritates me. In fact anything that irritates me, he just does more. What can I say, boys. The first three and a half years of my child's life were spent in my shop. These were not easy years. These were years where I spent much of my time crying. Trying to run a business in a depression while simultaneously tending to his every need did not always make for a harmonious relationship. Life is easier now with little man in school, my emotional state back in check(mostly), and business doing better, but motherhood is still the hardest job I've ever had. At the beginning of this maternal adventure I felt lost and abandoned, my true self given to this tiny bundle. Each stage of his young life has had it's challenges yet as we stumble through this together as a family, it becomes less difficult. Now we have actual conversations. I can take him to the shop and he can entertain himself with his Legos and not wreack havoc amongst my merchandise. We can sit and have lunch and it doesn't end up all over the floor. While driving he has learned to point out furniture abandoned on the treelawn, so used to me making sudden screeching stops for good junk. My little man has made strides, he is growing up. The more this happens, the more I want to stop and hold him and kiss his beautiful face. At the beginning I just wanted to get to this point. Now as he runs into my arms after school, I just want time to stand still. I want to keep him safe and warm and healthy and never let him go until he's ready to fly our little coop. Even than I will still be waiting for him to run into my arms and I will show him the first Mother's Day card he made for me and I will cry. For hair trigger nerves are not the only thing my beautiful mother has passed down to me. She has given me far too much emotion for my own heart and a strong will that is able to withstand all of the endless bumps in our road of life. For this I am most grateful and this is what I will pass on to my own child. Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there and especially to one very special lady. I love you Babs. Good night world.

gettin' it

Wife, mother,daughter, friend, proprietor, just a few of the hats I wear daily. Being all things to all people on a daily basis is not an easy job to uphold. Regardless of the fact that I love my family and my job more than pizza, there are still days where I throw my hands up in the air and want to run away to Florida. Each of these personas requires an enormous amount of patience(something I am lacking)and emotional/mental energy as well as physical stamina in order to chase my four year old or haul heavy pieces of old furniture. One particular field trip to the botanical gardens had me like a WWF wrestler in order to remove my son from his friends and get to the car. Oh big sigh thinking about that. The unfortunate incident rode on the crest of an extremely long month of worrying about my husband's job search, moving large loads of furniture to hoard for the fast approaching flea market and troublesome bedtimes trying to get the boss in the bathtub. This was also the month where I had to make my grocery money stretch like a rubber band so I could continue to buy those loads of old junk. Thank God for cheap tacos and bananas! I'll tell ya, as stated, I love my job, but some days I am so freakin' tired I cannot even move the remote control. My job though rewarding can be positively back breaking and exhausting. Imagine all the times you've moved than make that a weekly thing and you'll get what I'm talking about. There are days where work is just work yet there is still no better high than foraging and finding treasures and to be your own boss is positively priceless. I will continue to shop at Aldis and bake bread from scratch if it gets me through the slow times so I can continue to do what I love to do. Now being a mother, that's hard. It makes lifting all that old stuff look easy. I have to say being a mother is the hardest job I ever worked. Like just now as I am trying to spread my words of wisdom, somebody was having a whiny meltdown because his Lego firetruck came apart. You see these are not my worries at 42, but at age 4 it is positively the end of the world. He also needed yogurt, waffle, juice, cereal, and to be held, all within the past hour. Now mind you, to hold him is what I live for. Nothing feels better than his hands on my face and to feel his warm body, but the endless up and down off my stool gets a bit aggravating as I try to find the patience I don't have to feed him with a smile his fourth meal of the hour. I have also just spent the better part of the day grocery shopping and moving more furniture so this stool is the only place I want to plant my derriere at the moment. I have come to realize sitting down is a luxury. For the next 3 weeks until I schlepp my old finds to the flea, there will be no sitting down. There will be more endless errands, painting, projects, crafting, and hauling. This will be the time when I may snap. I will not be able to listen to friend's tales of boyfriend woes or work woes or even have a conversation with family members without wanting to shoot myself, but through all I will try to maintain a smile, mind my temper and pray for a large cocktail at the end of the day. Through all of the mothering, working, friending, etc. there is one constant in my life that I simply cannot be without. My husband is my rock. My tether to sanity. This man who has put up with all my moods, attitudes, dreams and schemes and continues to look at me with that beautiful smile on his face. God bless him or help him if you may. Without this man I would be sunk like the Titanic. His unwavering optimism and support makes all these hats a little easier to don and allows me to just keep gettin' it. Good afternoon world.

friends

Friend. Such a simple word with so much meaning. What does one consider a friend? Is a friend someone to hold your hand when times are tough? Is a friend someone to whom all your secrets are spilled? Is a friend someone you can call at anytime and you know they'll be there or someone to laugh with over absolutely nothing? In today's social network/ Facebook world the word "friend" can mean anyone who simply says yes to your request of "friendship". In our race to acquire multitudes of "friends" have we lost our ability to recognize friendship in its truest form? Aha! There lies the rub. With the amount of friends I have gained or lost over my 42 years, the ability to recognize a true friend can still elude even me. I have had best friends move away. I've had friendships that take off and fizzle out like a firecracker shortly after they've begun. I have friends that I don't see on a regular basis, but know that when I need them they are there in an instant. I've had work friends that as soon as the job ends the friendship slowly fades as well. I have one friend whose mischievous behavior sucks me right in and lookout because then there is no turning back! Certain friends of mine make me laugh so hard I almost pee myself and one particular friend is always there no matter what to offer sisterhood, comfort, laughter, and love. There are also surprise friendships I never expected, acquaintances whose common interests have developed into multiple conversations, coffee clatches in the car, and hundreds of texts. Of course for every friendship gained there is always one or a few lost.  Friends on the surface, a good time, but not much else. Because of the amount of time I spend in the company of friends, I tend to take these relationships seriously. Some of my friends are as close to me as family. I have learned over the years to distance myself in situations where I feel my feelings are threatened or hurt. I have also learned to just walk away from friendships that are cutting or mean yet are disguised as humor. At my age nastiness doesn't turn me on. To me a friendship needs to be tangible, heartfelt, and meaningful. It's really that simple. I don't need accolades or acknowledgement everyday, but just to know that in some part of the relationship I matter to you as a friend. True friendships take years to build and mature. Facebook friendships happen as soon as one confirms that request. Don't get me wrong, I love the social network. It has done unbelievable wonders for my business and in cultivating that I have met some truly wonderful people, friends, if you will. To this social butterfly making new friends can be as gratifying as hanging with old friends. Some of these new friends I hope to know for many years. In the meantime to my truest of friends is where my heart remains, this small core that somehow has managed to accept me and all my flaws. Goodnight world.

fashion

After getting my men out the door this morning I immediately made a run for the television in order to immerse myself in all things Bravo and its Bravolebrities. In particular my fav stylist Rachel Zoe. After an hour of watching my girl in her long pants, fur jackets, giant accessories, and very high shoes, I was prompted to write about a subject barely touched on in my literary adventure. Running to my closet to recycle my tired old wardrobe, I ran my fingers over my own collection of wide legged pants,vintage fur jackets, high shoes and opted for a fun yet very un-Zoe like ensemble. Seeing the plethora of clothing that runs throughout the Zoe empire I am inspired to look at my old wardrobe in a new light. Old jackets become new again with some hot pink skinny cords. Vintage metal flower pins find a sunny perch on my collars and my "funeral" shoes now look fresh with the hot pink skinnies. Okay men, I'm sure at this point you have lost interest and clicked back to your manly cyber browse, but hey, I'm a girl and sometimes what you get is girly stuff. As a teen my wanderlust would never quite go away, hating the "burgh" as much as I did. This led to my big dreams of running off to Paris and New York City in order to conquer the fashion world. Well, I did get to Paris, as a tourist and upon sitting on the steps of my coveted Chanel (after hours) I managed to set off the screeching burglar alarm. My traveling partner and I quickly made a mad dash down the rue St. Honore and that was the end of my Parisian fashion career. Upon entering Kent State University's esteemed fashion program, I quickly realized by the end of my second year that maybe there were other plans for me. Sitting at that awful industrial sewing machine that I swear moved faster than light speed ended with me in tears. My roommate and college bestie would sit at her machine and pump out garment after garment while I struggled to thread the damn needle. Fashion illustration was also another bump in my stylish career. I've always been somewhat adept in the drawing and painting department, but fashion illustration I could never quite master. My models always looked deathly with giant lobster claws for hands. Of course the bestie never had a problem with this either. Her sketches were beautiful and fluid with all perfect hands. Ugh. Discouragement at its finest. Maybe a different path WAS inevitable. After trying to channel my creative energies into majors that were just, well, dry, I gave up alltogether. Soooo many years later I have found my niche. I have learned to redirect that manic creative energy into my other pop culture passion, vintage home decor. Surrounding myself with color and texture, size, shape and scale and of course little bits of history has renewed my sense of self. Finding my true path has been one of my greatest rewards and hey, I still get to shop for a living. Goodnight world. 

happy spring!

So here we are, spring! Yeah right. Last week's post left you with a recount of my beautiful day with 70 degree weather. Today's post, polar opposite I'm afraid. We were warned. The weather channel has talked about nothing else except snow, winter storm, falling temps, blah, blah, blah. Ok, so we have snow, so it's cold, so what. We live in the midwest. We should be used to this craziness by now. Move to Florida if you don't like it. There you have hurricanes and giant bugs. Forced to disconnect from all social media today due to the incessant weather complaints by the masses, I turned to last year's blog posts to assess the seasonal situation. Last year was quite a different story. Last year my pond was open, lilacs blooming, perennials green, you know real spring. The winter that passed was actually quite temperate considering our place on the map. So temperate in fact the general complaint was global warming. Well here we are, a year later and it's snowing. Global warming? Maybe, but really a normal late spring winter storm. I can remember one Easter toting my in-laws around in 5 heavy wet inches of snow that disappeared the very next day. This too shall pass. By the end of the week, this wet blanket of white stuff should be gone, my stunted crocii will be back to blooming and we will be one week closer to opening the pond, the windows, storing away the winter clothes, boots, blankets, and of course the snow shovels. Weather is fleeting and here in the midwest it is cold one day and searing hot the next. For today though, I am indulging in the laziness the weather allows me. Eventually I will take off my ugly robe, put on the boots and take one last walk in the snow with my child. Upon returning home I will make fresh coffee and since it seems appropriate, some warm pumpkin bread. I can indulge my senses in the last fading aromas of winter. For as I look out my window I can see the birds are back despite the snow, the trees are still budding and all too soon we will be complaining about the heat and wondering where we stashed that air conditioner. I believe you might find it next to the snow shovels. Good afternoon world.

sunny day

Time change, tiny blooming crocus, buds on my lilacs, not to mention the flocks of fowl sited in the park. All signs of spring! Yay, we're almost there! After waking to the sun yesterday morning and stepping outside to a much warmer temp than previous days I felt March had come in like a lamb. One can even smell spring as the ground and lake begin to thaw. Rushing to the babysitters than on to my estate score to haul my new vintage finds back to the store had the windows down and Lana Del Ray blasting from my car speakers. My husband following close behind most likely had his reggae of choice blasting from his car speakers. What a beautiful day only to be made brighter by my boxes of vintage Christmas, Easter, toys, coolers, bowling pins, glassware, etc. The colorful 1950's vinyl chairs and 1960's tiki rattan only added to the cheery day. By the time we arrived back at the shop the sun was out in full force and the temperature had climbed to almost 70. Lured by pictures of my haul, a girlfriend popped in and spent the next hour chatting outside in the sun while we lounged on the old rattan set. All we needed were umbrella drinks to make the moment even more perfect. After she left, with one of my chairs, I was bombarded for the next few hours with customers. Apparently the lions had been let out of the cage because my little city was hoppin'. People were everywhere! In this gray and gloomy city here in the "rust belt" we take what we can get. On its darkest day Cleveland is gritty and industrial, but when the sun shines it becomes an urban beach town. The lake positively sparkles and as the ice mounds break away and separate, the lake is as blue as the sky. Who couldn't find beauty in this midwest "mistake on the lake". I hate even using that old moniker so outdated that it is. Live here a few years and than tell me you don't take notice of all that is offered, but that is for another post. Today was just a beautiful sunny day and this city's residents were reveling in it. Hard work on a nice day makes me thirsty and after a text from my wild girlfriend, an impromptu evening al fresco had been arranged. Margaritas, burgers, and boys. Oh so many boys. Husband, boyfriend, and our 3 boys chasing chickens, grilling said burgers, lighting fires, and my favorite part of the evening, sending fiery Chinese paper lanterns into the dark night sky. Magical. Warm weather evenings with friends and children just make you feel good inside. It doesn't matter that my son had brownies for dinner or had chicken poo on his pants or had to be carried to the car crying because he was so tired he could barely stand. It was just a sunny day spent working hard with the wonderful reward of family, friends, and yes, a margarita or two at the end of it all. Goodnight world.

Relief

Well, here I sit again, brain buzzing with my new favorite Starbucks, ready to put it all out there in cyber space. As previously stated, wow, I can't believe this month is just about over. Thank God and Buddha. February has never been my favorite month. As a teen my mother would have to threaten and cajole just to get me out the door to school, so content was I to just lie in my bed. February sucks all the life out of me. It's gloomy, stagnant, cold, blah. I hate blah. This year as the clock rolled over to 2013 I decided there are two ways I can start out: I can be depressed and complain and worry about weather, money, health or I can take charge of these two worst months and tackle all my demons that wake me at three in the morning. Well of course there was a little of the former and a lot of the latter. Here in this gray city one can't escape winter without a little seasonal depression, but there were ways to combat mine. Running in the park, visiting the cold icy beach with hot coffee, walks in the muddy woods, reading an endless array of books, and just plain motivation. Motivation was my prozac. A grocery list of responsabilities that I was shucking because I hate paperwork and schlepping around from office to office was about to be conquered. Health plans were acquired, taxes were filed, scary bill taken care of, business name change put into action, furniture finally painted, exercise routine established. As a born procrastinator I have to fight this part of my personality in order to "get 'er done". God, I hate Larry the Cable Guy, but that saying is just so fitting. I even hung a big foreboding list just so I could cross each item off in order to feel accomplishment. Of course with each item deleted there seems to be a growing new list of "things to do", but this list is much less daunting, at least for now. For now I can feel relief over all those crossed off items. I can look in the mirror and see less of those holiday desserts. I can rest assured that if one of us gets hurt we have a place to go and have care. My shop is alive and colorful again with new merchandise and more coming. The government can leave me alone now for everything is filed. For now I can enjoy my evening reliving my teen years with my wild girlfriend drinking margaritas and rollerskating. Maybe not the best combination, but hey if I break anything at least I'm covered and February is over! Good morning world.

catching up

Wow! It's February already?!! What happened to January? I swear it blew by in a wintery rush. January was actually a really nice way to start off 2013. As stated in my previous post we were not in financial ruins this year due to the holiday hang over. The store had the most profitable January in years due to the many sales I ran just to get through the month. I also kept my shopping to the barest minimum so I could allow myself a quick and cold trip to the Big Apple. After not being there in a few years and going through the many tired catalogs and companies from which I usually order, I knew this trip was a neccessity. The gift show there in the big city is my favorite. Who am I kidding, it's the only one I frequent. Row after row of companies, thousands. A treat for the eyes and a big dent in my wallet. Well dressed and sometimes snooty owners and employees hawking their wares under the bright lights. Everyone excited for their line of jewelry, perfume, home design, linens, paper, you name it, it's there! I'm happy to say I returned home with a new stack of fresh catalogs and fun new merchandise ordered for the shop. Did I mention how much I adore New York City? It just gets under your skin with its manic energy and lightning pace. If I don't return every year I feel like something is missing. My cohort had never been before so I dragged her poor tukas all over mid town and beyond. Margaritas at Maya were the best I ever had. My third horse drawn carriage ride was still as fun and touristy as the first. Ice skating at Wollman Rink in Central Park was downright magical and the unexpected sighting of the Roosevelt Island Tram hanging from its wire had me running w camera/phone in hand. Our hotel though poo pooed by some was absolutely beautiful and luxurious, gotta love those travel sites for a good deal! Trains, planes, and automobiles to get to our plane home had us shoving airport cupcakes in our mouth just to gain back some energy. Note to self, never eat airport cupcakes. After my arrival home, I was comatose all of Monday followed by a sick child, than husband, and of course yours truly. We were also hit here in the midwest with a lovely snowfall that fell for days. Tucked in my bed, store closed, catching up on sleep, life was not too shabby. Now it is February. Rent will be late, but my bills are paid. Store is still slightly empty, but there are a few new fun items. Tomorrow I return to my running in the park, painting furniture, and finally cleaning up that nightmare behind my desk. You know, normal life. The upcoming months plan on being a blur of buying activity preparing for my first foray as a flea market seller. As you know, dear readers, I will be sharing my thoughts and anxieties as the date gets closer and I wonder what the Hell am I doing?! For the time being I will just try to survive February. There are no trips this month only rent and more bills, but that's okay, life could definitely be worse and this month, though it's not January is gratefully a short one. Good night world.

balance

Blissfully bumping along in my no worry day I was jolted back to reality by a call from the school nurse. Nothing stops a heart faster than fearing your child is hurt or worse. My mother always warned me of these feelings proclaiming, "you'll understand when you have children". Well now I have one, a boy and boy oh boy she wasn't wrong. It's bad enough fearing the phone call, but boys are just dumb. Boys do stupid things because that's just how they're made. They play with sticks and stones and jump off high things thinking they can fly. They wave shovels in the air and throw balls at windows all the while laughing their little dumb heads off. Oh sure it's funny until someone loses an eye or flips backward off a porch or gets hit in the neck with a stick. Good Lord, he is only 4. How the heck do I make it to his adulthood?  My husband tells me stories of all the dumb things he did as a boy and let me tell you, dumb! He used to launch dog poop from the end of a stick at people he didn't like, hide for hours from his poor screaming mother, jump off cliffs into the shallow lake, climb back up those same cliffs. He was a holy terror. Neighbors used to hide. If that's what's in store for this mom, God help me. After retrieving my child and getting him settled on the couch with heating pad and Tylenol(pulled neck muscle)I than retrieved today's mail. Please don't let there be anything suspect I pleaded to no one. Of course as fate loves to have it, a big threatening, I mean scary take care of asap bill. Great. You see yesterday I paid my store rent and paid for a work trip to New York City. Even though just an overnighter one of my favorite friends is joining me and I have fun things planned for the down time. A lot of I Love New York crammed into 48 hours. I was also making tentative plans to do some estate sale-ing this week with my partners in crime. So you can see I was happy. No worries. Bills were paid, so I thought. Financial plan for the next 6 months in order and now, yes, F*@# reality check. January is usually a month of despair for me. I usually enter this month with an overdrawn bank account and unpaid bills from the holiday frenzy. This was not to be in 2013. My husband and I were smart, dare I say thrifty this year when it came to gifts. Money got put in the bank not someone else's pocket. Life was on track, again or so I thought. See, I am a BIG believer in waiting for the other shoe to drop. For once, I wasn't thinking about the balance, I was just happy the scales were tipped in my favor. So I guess I got too big for my karmic britches because the shoe dropped hard. I suppose after writing it down it doesn't sound all that bad. My child is fine, the big scary bill will get paid, but in the heat of the moment when my stomach is flip-flopping all over the place, life feels sucky. I don't know what it is about my generation, but sometimes it feels like we all got a really bad turn. Trying to find balance in such an unstable environment is so tough, no wonder we are chasing yogis, and cleansing ourselves with disgusting juices and self-promoting only the happy times. Life is hard and ugly, but it is also beautiful and fabulous and if one can find the balance between the two than I guess we are ahead of the game. For me that would mean finding a little financial stability and a big plastic bubble in which to enclose my child. Since the latter is slightly unrealistic I suppose just being the best mother, wife, and friend that I can will have to suffice. Good evening world.

resolution

Well we survived, the end of the world that is. Happy new year my friends and fellow readers. It is a new year, new beginnings, new opportunities, what have you. I am just happy we are all still here. I know, I'm crazy for even thinking the end was near, but I tend to worry about the really dumb stuff that no one else does. Who am I kidding, I worry about everything. My husband was ready to deport me considering all the times I asked him if the world was going to end. Back when we got married I worried relentlessly about flesh-eating bacteria breakouts. See, crazy. Now my worries can just be about the daily minutae, so relieved am I. Soooo, a new year, which means new year's resolutions. Every year we make them to no avail. We are usually right back to smoking, eating, not exercising, even worrying, within a month.Well not this year! This year I am inspired to not make any resolutions.  I have decided that I like just who I am. Well sure I could be more patient, lose 5 lbs, not be so bossy, save my money better, but who couldn't? I have been trying for 42 years to be more patient. If it hasn't happened by now, well, there you go. They say( whoever "they" is) that life is what happens when you're not looking and I think I finally get this. Maybe it's my middle age or that I have wasted SO much time wishing for this and wishing for that, but when it comes right down to it, I am postively happy and content with this life. Maybe it's learning to choose your battles as you get older or maybe we DO get wiser. I don't know I just know that if we spend all our time trying to be this "perfect" person we are going to waste a LOT of this precious life we've been given. Age doesn't slow down and wait for us to figure it all out or get our shit together. As I sit here at my counter listening to my child and Dora playing in the background, eating my homemade banana bread after just cleaning my grimy kitchen, I am content. Life really is this simple. Yes, I need to get on the treadmill, get back to work, the norm, but for now I'll take this for a few more days. I am going to rest, recharge, and not look at my bank account. I am going to clean and bake and play with my child in the snow. I am not going to think about all the things I could try to change because as stated above I like the person I've become and have enjoyed all the roads I've traveled to find that person. Good afternoon world.