brick and mortar (a tale of small business start to end)

It all began with a box of garage sale finds, some pretty teacups and such my mother found for my new apartment. The teacups were peach with a pretty opalescent luster. They weren't expensive, but to me they were gold. To me they were the start of a new beginning in my very first adult apartment. My mother was thrilled and I'll never forget her excitement. Unfortunately she was less thrilled when the boyfriend of that moment moved in, but that's another story. To this day I still have the teacups, the boyfriend long gone to jail or wherever he belonged. Such began my love with vintage. It was at that moment gazing upon my treasures, seeing my mom's excitement that I began to hate anything new and fell in love with all things old. Years of junking and a part-time job in a little antique store lead me to my first retail space and my fate was sealed. How does one cram almost 20 years in business into a few paragraphs? My career in this business feels as ancient as the hills. That first feeling when the lease is signed, key in hand, and the world your oyster. At first I worked full-time waiting tables and part-time at my true calling. I was always hesitant to let go of my stable employment and the safety net of financial comfort it gave me. My first space was a shared space, an absentee "partner" if you will who would come and go leaving boxes of dishes or expensive antiques for me to display. I would open the shop only to have that creepy feeling that someone was in my space. My decision to move stemmed from a need to be on my own, no creepy silent partners or ugly Mission furniture left for me to tend to. The next space though close to the first felt miles away from that tiny spot. This new location was mine all mine. I had huge windows to display my wares and boy did I! A background in art was finally put to good use as I transformed those windows week after week to showcase my old junk. The more effort I put into my business, the more I resented working another job. Slowly as the years went by, I cut back on evenings at the restaurant in order to pursue my destiny(yes that's a bit dramatic, but then so am I). I worked like a dog to gain personal and financial success. I built up a solid loyal customer base. I added more hours, an employee or two. During the holidays I would stay until all hours of the night just to make sure everything was beautiful and perfect. As the years went by I began to notice though I had achieved personal success, I had yet to find that brass ring. Part of the problem was my location. Though cheap, it came with a big price, a changing neighborhood. The street had become a joke of sorts with most of the other antique shops closing due to declining business and the sort of "customer" that became the norm. Trying to still make a go of it, I would have days with no business and when someone did finally wander in, it was usually the sort of medicated, shuffling, muttering types looking for a captive audience. In tears, I knew it was time for the next change. Once my decision was made, my new final location happened within 24 hours of my decision to leave. Luck was on my side and the new improved space came with lots of fresh traffic, wonderful neighbors and finally that sense of community and family so important to small business. I was home. My old Italian barber neighbors immediately took me under their wing and they became my friends and confidantes for ten years until their untimely death not long ago. The copy shop owner and his kids became like extended family, raising our boys in our shops and standing around shooting the shit. My new customers came with their stories, their dogs, their children I've watched grow into teenagers. They became my life support. My shop became not just a way to earn a living, but a kind of meeting place. Under that roof we discussed politics, religion, love, family, furniture, daily conversations to feed your soul if the mood fit. Over the years I added an ever changing stock of rotating inventory, remodeled, reinvented, changed the name, started doing more shows to boost my image, get my name out there. After one particularly disappointing show I fell into a slight depression, mid- life crisis I guess. I spent months soul searching, trying to figure out just where I was going with all this. After running a fast track for so long and being consumed by my calling, I lost interest. Dried up and got disgusted. My job had become just that, a job. Economic crisis had spurned a new way to shop retail. Today's young customers are thriftier, pickier, bending to social media to fit in, be part of something big. Trending events to boost our city's economy and produce a young generation of "makers", "creatives", and yes, vintage dealers. I was now the dinosaur tethered to a $1000 a month rent not to mention utilities and inventory. On top of that I was trying to help maintain household expenses. By the end of the day there was nothing left for me. All my hard earned money eaten up by expenses and groceries. Eighteen years I ran that hamster wheel, always running to catch up, get ahead. My store never did bad business, it always came through when most needed, but at this age, I'm done struggling for my art. I am ready to be free of financial burden. I want to travel, give in to this wanderlust that has hounded me my entire life. Most importantly I want to breathe, be with my family, reboot and recharge. The shop has long since served its purpose. It gave me a sense of satisfaction and reward. I raised my son there in order to forego expensive day care, albeit at the cost of my sanity a few times yet still with fond memories. It helped our income. The relationships I garnered and nurtured over the years never to be forgot. So,once again, I'm taking that leap, jumping off that proverbial cliff. At the end of January my little shop that meant so much for so many years will be closed. I am sad to lose my community. Brick and mortars are so important to a city's survival yet it is a changing world and I have to once again change with it. It's time to go where the crowds are rather than wait for the crowd to find me. Sad, yes, but so excited for a newer more free future, a mobile future. A way to travel and be with my family and sell my old junk. So, my dear customers, never fear. This is not a good-bye, this is a big fat HELLO to a big fat new adventure. I have no idea what the future holds, but isn't that part of the fun? My eyes are open and I'm jumping...goodnight world.

pizza

So, it's summer. No school for three months. Life is starting to settle into vacation mode or it will once this gray sky moves on out. No lie the past year has been stressful and right when you think all is well, well, there's another stress. Yeah, because it's called life. Whoever said life would be easy was a big fat liar. Anyway, I can't complain. I have a pretty nice life. If I didn't stress over money on an hourly basis, I may be able to enjoy mine. When stress comes a knockin' I don't run for the fridge and it's contents, no I run to the gym or the lake or an estate sale. Well, maybe that's a teensy lie. When I'm feeling like the world has it out for me, I call the pizza delivery guy or get out my flour and yeast and concoct my own greasy luxury. I am downright weak in the knees, twist my arm, I have no control when it comes to pizza. Some people like to dab theirs with a napkin to reduce the grease pool settled on a pound of cheese, I say leave it alone. The shinier the better. I'll eat almost anything on a pizza as long as it's not tiny hairy fish or green peppers or black olives, yuck. You can top mine with lobster, chicken, bbq sauce, all kinds of shrooms, what have you, but my favorite, absolute favorite is plain old New York style pepperoni. Suh woon. Honestly, I think I only exercise so I can eat more pizza. Fifteen years working in a pizza/Italian place did not help my addiction. So many choices and God bless crappy servers who can't ring in the right order because then there would be pizzas lined up in the kitchen with no customer to claim them. Oh, is this a mistake? YES!! Pesto sauce, feta cheese, hot banana peppers, caramelized onions, and of course PEPPERONI! Tables, who has tables, there's free pizza! I swear I lost ten pounds when I left that job. The origin of pizza is not clear. Some say it was some Italian guy Raffaele Esposito in 1889 who invented the margherita pizza to impress a king and queen. Pizza was also known as peasant's food because it was inexpensive to make. Huh, another reason I love it. Some say pizza really took off when Italian immigrants settled in America and migrated from city to city. Either way, whomever invented this simple delicacy deserves a big fat greasy kiss. Pizza, a mere concoction of whatever you want becomes a delicacy the instant you shove it in your mouth and sigh with contentment. No need to dive the deepest depths of our oceans or scour the bowels of the jungle searching for an edible delight. Nope, just call up your favorite local pizza joint and the minute that aroma hits your nose, you'll get my drift. Pizza has turned many a crappy day around with it's silent splendor. Paired with wine, pop or beer takes it to a different level. Add pajamas, movie, and a couch and you have the perfect night in. Extra cheese? Yes please! So there you have it, my absolute weakness, addiction if you will. I have never been able to resist the lure of pizza in all it's gooey, greasy, cheesy, oreganoey goodness. They say money will buy you happiness, I say go buy a pizza, it's easier and it certainly makes me happy. Oh, and don't even get me started on donuts. Good afternoon world.

just beginning

Well, we made it. Kindergarten is officially over. Tomorrow my little man will stand on a stage and graduate from his first year of "real" school. Frankly, I am relieved. This has been a hard year for our child. Kindergarten is not like when we were kids. Kindergarten used to be fun, joyous. Now, it's a mixture of pre-k and first grade.Confusing. Oh, there's still play, but now there are lessons and homework mixed in with the Legos and recess. Reading and writing and arithmetic all before first grade. Expectations have been set so high kids can't just be kids anymore. Even childhood has to be faster, better, more efficient. We raise our boys like girls. We expect them to sit still, be quiet, behave. My child doesn't sit still unless he's tired or sick. Oh, and don't even think of packing anything for lunch with nuts because someone else's kid who's allergic might eat something they're not supposed to. I swear we spend so much time looking out for everyone else's child we forget our own charges. I must admit, I had an "old school" view of kindergarten. I was not prepared for all the homework, sight words, math, book reports. It took my husband and I some serious readjusting of our own life to become used to this new regime. Not having a child until almost 40, we didn't realize how much school had changed. I'm already shaking in my shoes at this supposed "new" math. What does that even mean? What was wrong with the old way of learning math? Why do we think we have to "fix" everything when it all worked just fine for us. I know how to add, subtract, etc. All these people changing a system that isn't broke. They all know how to read. They all know how to multiply and divide yet it's not good enough anymore for their overly entitled kids. I'm so confused. I want school to be a positive experience for my child. Behavior charts and phone calls from the teacher. Puhleez! So much pressure for someone so young. Kids fuck up, that's what they do. That's why we as the parents are there to show them right from wrong. Take responsibility for your actions. Own it. When Sully was acting up, we had the conference, we talked to the teacher, we changed our ways and it worked. Together we had him coming out from under his desk and finishing assignments. He stopped disrupting group. He started listening better(well to everyone else but us). All these new expectations placed upon teachers and children to supposedly fix a system that was just fine in order to make more money. Cut more corners. Test kids to death to show how inefficient teachers are. Place blame everywhere, but at the core of the problem. All of this makes my blood boil. Because of this new way our kids are becoming spoiled, narcissistic, and require instant gratification at all times. We blame teachers for our shortcomings. If there is anyone to blame, it is us, the parents. We are the center of our child's universe so it only stands to reason if they're screwing up, start with the home. My husband and I take full responsibility for our child's actions. We give him a long leash yet work with him everyday to be a better person. Do unto others...I like to think we are doing a good job. We try to be the best parents we can and still we are learning. Parenting is not easy and I don't think it gets easier, unfortunately. Every age has different problems. It's how we the parents address these problems that can make the difference. We had a long road this year and all too often it was easy to blame the teacher, but the teacher was merely doing her job. Working together we helped Sully acclimate better to his new routine. Passing the buck doesn't help anyone least of all our children. I don't have warm and fuzzy feelings about this past year and as I stated I am extremely relieved it's over yet I do have a new respect for this woman who was in charge of my independent and immature wild child while he was in her care. So tomorrow  is graduation and we bid adieu to this learning curve of a year. Tomorrow I will cry like a baby over my baby moving onward because this has been a long year for a little man and we are only just beginning. Good afternoon world.

a new season

Today started like every day, get up, grope for coffee, wake my child, more coffee then off to school. This morning was especially beautiful and warm. A perfect spring morning. After school drop off as I was on my way to grab my board, the sky commenced to turn an eerie shade of blue violet and gray. Taking a chance, I proceeded to collect my board and glide onto the mirror-like surface of the lake. There was no noise just absolute calm, well, wait a sec, there was a pair of clamoring geese irritated I'd disturbed their peace. Ignoring their squawking I continued on my way. The past few weeks have been wrought with a lot of soul searching and today was no different. Gliding along on the perfect lake, I reveled in that peace and let my mind drift where it pleased. So much has happened in the past few months, it's hard to wrap my brain around. So much excitement. For so long I felt stagnant, left behind and now it feels like everything I've been working for all these years is finally paying off. The problem with all these little successes is one gets greedy, impatient. I've been shown a door partially open and now want to fling it wide and yell "I'm in here, come and get me!" I want to see this through, see where it's all going. I've always been that way, can't enjoy the journey because I want to get to the destination. Right there lies the problem. I feel like I'm racing time. Lately I've really noticed it. I'm only 44 yet that feels like 100 to me. I've been spending too much time on regrets. I try to live without those preferring to chalk it up as experiences. I don't like having regrets because it only makes me feel my age more and that time is flying and I need to catch up hence my anxiety. My husband and I recently had a "discussion" over my inability to let go of the past few years and our unstable lifestyle. Everything is good now so why can't I say goodbye to yesterday. I'm not one to ruminate on the past, I move on and keep going. This is not normal behavior for me and if I continue it will affect my marriage. The fact remains that those years were tough. I feel traumatized by those years like a soldier coming home from war. I understand it's a completely different level, but roll with me here. No, I wasn't shot at day after day, but the constant rejection and struggle left it's mark on my psyche. A recent disappointing business venture brought all those feelings back and I've spent a lot of time on the lake trying to let that go. Not everything can be a win. Owning a business is filled with risks and this was one that fell flat. Do I give up? Absolutely not, not in my nature. When that door closed wouldn't you know another opened so off we go again. The last discussion with my husband really got me thinking. I can't keep hurting him with my refusal to move forward. We are happy and stable and that is all I ever wanted. Just like spring shedding winter's choke hold, I too, am shedding that old life and welcoming this new one.Today I am stopping to smell the lilacs and listen to the birdsong. No more "what could have been" thinking. I'm not dead and life is what happens while you're living it. This is a growing season and I intend to grow big and tall while living this glorious life...in the present. Good afternoon world.

inspiration

I don't know if it's the weather change and the return of my business or an upcoming buying adventure across country or just plain old spring fever, but this crazy brain is on overdrive! Lately I feel inspired by well, just about anything and everything. I feel like I eat, drink, sleep all matters creative. If I'm not scouring the planet for old junk, I am displaying my finds. My recent appearance on a design show has me coveting anything interior related. Our recent home renovation(still not finished)has me looking at furniture in a new light. I am ready to purge all my belongings and start fresh yet my inner hoarder is struggling. With the emergence of spring, my yard is getting the stink eye, so ready am I to finally finish outside projects. I am inspired by travel and the senseless abandonment it brings. My wanderlust is at full tilt waiting for my road trip next week. All I can say about that is girlfriends, old junk, cowboy boots, and margaritas under the Texas sky. I am so excited I could positively burst! I would also like to thank American Express for the business capital to make it possible or I might be anxiously chewing off all my fingernails right now. Writing is also inspiring in the way it forces my brain to creatively arrange words on a screen in order to convey all these random thoughts boinging around in my brain like freshly dropped super balls. Writing is a creative outlet I never even entertained until an overwhelming need to scream turned into a blog of four years. Screaming to a silent audience is actually quite cathartic and I wish I had realized my ability sooner rather than later. Better late than never they say. Social media is also another source from which to draw inspiration. There is an entire world of color, travel, design, craft, food, etc. just waiting for the click of your finger. After being stuck inside the past few months with not much in the way of inspiration other then social media, it's no wonder my brain feels on fire, awake, alive! That winter pall has left my body and all I see is possibility. My brain is short firing in bursts of color. My poor husband can't keep up with my vocal musings free associated in his direction. Every inspirational meme seems to be speaking to me and I am soaking it up like I plan to soak up the sun. Dream big. I am! Just do it. I am! Be the change you wish to see. I am! It is just so nice to feel again. Being so cold for so long left me dull and unmotivated. I don't even care that it still lingers because in exactly one week I will be in warmth. It may be muddy and soggy or dry and dusty. Either way I don't care because I have 6 days to roam free with no schedule or agenda. Six days to suck up all the inspiration I can and channel it back into my business and home. So lookout y'all, I'm bringing more back from this adventure then just freeloading cucharachas, because when inspiration strikes, ya gotta ride it like a wild pony or you'll get trampled. Good evening world.

strength

After being tagged as a strong woman in my girlfriend's post for Women's Day yesterday, it got me thinking about strength and from where it comes. What do we do as women to be strong, stay strong, get strong? From where do we draw that power? Are we born strong? I don't think that is always the case. I know I was born independent, but I wouldn't say strong. I used to be timid and crowd following. I wasn't outspoken or able to stand up for myself. I never rocked the boat. Now, well now is just a different story. Now, I'm older. With age comes strength, at least for me. Being your own boss and the confidence that takes makes you strong. There were so many times over the course of so many years where I thought I would give up and just throw in the towel. So many tears over money and jobs and parenting. So many times I wondered what the heck I was doing toting this little child around while trying to keep a business afloat while holding my breath through my husband's job search, all while trying to work a second job. I remember one particular afternoon hearing my husband's voice as he answered his phone to another rejection and feeling my immediate need to flee. I ran to my car and drove off leaving them behind. The only place I could think to go was to my Italian barber neighbor. In tears I blew into the back of their shop where Paul in his infinite age and wisdom sat me down to hear my woes. In his calm demeanor he told me,"Robin, you have to get up off the mat." So like a man, simple and to the point, no bullshit. I went to Paul for cold hard truth and he gave it to me. From that day on, whenever life doesn't work out to our expectations, I hear Paul's voice in my head. You see, life shoves you down and to come back swinging only makes you stronger. I am stronger because I keep fighting. I fight for my family and I fight for my business. The two things I have in this life that I feel are worth fighting for. Strength can also come from people. Who you surround yourself with says a lot about your own personality. I don't surround myself with shrinking violets. Shoulda, woulda, coulda, are not in my vocabulary anymore and I don't want to hear other's excuses on why their life is falling short of their expectations. I surround myself with strong personalities(God help me), creatives, teachers, entrepreneurs, and yes, fighters. I have friends fighting for love, notice, success, self-worth, motherhood, health, and if any of these people had ever given up, they wouldn't be who they are today. One can also draw strength from their family. Your family has been with you from the beginning. They may be intrusive or not say the right thing. They may not understand you or the person you've become through the years, but they are always there. In that, there is comfort and from comfort one can draw strength to keep on keepin' on. As far as my own little family goes, I am lost without them. My husband is like the Rock of Gibraltor. He is unfailing in his quiet strength to hold me, calm me, talk me off the ledge, what have you. As long as I have his arms around me and he tells me everything will be ok, then I know it will be. As for my little firecracker of a son, his endless six year old enthusiasm keeps me going. As I've said before, child's play can turn your whole outlook around. This life is a gift and to waste it feeling sorry for ourselves, drowning in self-pity is positively toxic. I have spent too much time bitching and moaning about the injustices served upon me. I hate that person. The only good thing I can say about that person is she kept me going, convinced me to fight. If your life feels flat or falls short then get up off the damn mat already and put your dukes up because if you don't someone or something will come along and knock you right out. Good evening world.

hibernation

Leaving the cozy womb of my home this morning after a few days of being housebound I felt like a bear emerging from a long winter's sleep. My eyes blinking from the glare of the snow I shivered as I ran to my car. Completing my errands I raced back to my robe and pajamas and the warm cocoon of aimless laziness for just one more day. Tomorrow I go back to early mornings, the gym, work, and one more big bill. Tomorrow reality comes back like another blast of arctic wind. Today I continue to hibernate. Today I will forage in the kitchen scraping together another meal from the remnants of my pantry. Today I will park myself in my new old chair and finish the mystery novel that has captivated me for the past 24 hours. My husband a little cranky and restless because he has to teach tonight is taking care of the chores my lazy ass can't seem to conquer. Hey, I went out in the cold to run errands AND I even managed a work out yesterday letting my punching bag know who's boss. That's enough for me. Downtime at home is not something I embrace very often so accustomed to being on the go at all times. Race here, race there, grocery store, bank, school, you get it. Ice cold snow days are a dream come true because they force me to slow down. Taking pleasure in little things like lying on the floor putting endless Lego structures together or watching hours of Mythbusters and HGTV is heaven. Being that my six year old is obsessed with science and home renovation right now makes me giggle and of course I never mind turning off the annoying cartoons. Having no real plans for this Valentine's Day other then closing my store to spend time with my own valentines found us at Target buying Legos we had promised our little big man. Waiting thirty minutes for him to pick out just the right set then surviving his meltdown due to hunger, all I could do was laugh until my husband, done with his cigarette, sauntered back into the store where I waited gritting my teeth and cursing his name under my breath. Shopping with my husband is like having two children because he tends to wander off and I spend half my time trying to find him. Being left in line with the tired spoiled one I looked longingly at my bottle of wine making it's way down the conveyor belt and tried to keep my spirits up for the sake of the holiday. Hazardous roads due to the blizzard made for a tense twenty minute journey home. Sending our child to his room with a snack and his new Legos, my husband and I had a minute to breathe and regroup from that fun little outing. Giving in to the snow, I opened my wine early and we sat at our kitchen counter talking about everything and nothing. Once our dear one became human again, we were able to salvage the day and enjoy the togetherness of our little family. Homemade pizza and a movie and all was right on this snowy day. Yesterday the sun came out in full force and my squirrels were at the back door begging for their meal. I enjoyed digging in to my new book and my boys played some Minecraft. More fattening food for dinner and some late night Scrabble with my man rounded out our second day of hibernation. Turning off my social media and all the pictures of other's exotic sunny locations had me thinking. It may not be warm. It may not always be sunny, but it is home and for these past few days with my little family, it is where my heart is. Good afternoon world.

february

The title says it all. My absolute LEAST favorite month. I loathe February even more than I loathe October. I always have. February always rolls around with no fanfare, no drum roll, nada. Oh sure there are lots of reasons to celebrate in February, Valentine's Day, Black History Month, President's Day, none of which seem to incite any reaction in my already blah brain. Last month I was near nervous breakdown with the weight of my financial responsibilities due to a kitchen remodel, Christmas, and store expenses. Unable to see the forest through the trees, I finally stumbled out of that monetary mess only to have February waiting on the other side like the Grim Reaper on the banks of the River Styx. Okay, maybe slight dramatic exaggeration, but you get my drift. As we muddle through the icy bitter Cleveland winter, we tick off the months in anticipation for the big thaw, warmer days, and the arrival of Spring. February is the gateway to all things sunny. If we can get through then Spring is waiting on the other side and March and April aren't so bad. We will have survived yet another long cold winter by our frozen lake. Complaining about the weather is positively useless because it does no good other then to spurn more negative thinking. That was yesterday. Super cranky all day and cold to my bones I was Negative Nelly. Today, the sunrise was pink, the sun made an appearance and I am all unicorns in my crazy brain. Blogging and baking and dreaming of puppies and new adventures is how I'm surviving this frozen morning. Sitting in my warm kitchen, smelling the cookies bake and listening to the squirrels chatter outside my back door sure is a nice way to start my day. And then I looked outside. Sigh. Sleet. All one can do is laugh. Frozen mix will not get to me. This will be today's mantra. So, here goes another sheet of cookies into the oven. More writing. In these cold months that seem to drag on and on, it's the small things that get us through. I may sound like Martha Stewart with the baking, but Martha was on to something. Martha survived cold winters by baking and selling pies. Look at her now. So today I will channel Martha. Baking, decorating, crafting, doesn't sound half bad to me. I could go break up the ice in my driveway, but Martha's way is more fun. My words of wisdom may be sparse today because my writer's block is not unlike the ice in my driveway yet if I have sparked even one of you to go do something other then think about your cold feet, I've done my job. For me, work awaits and today I'm finishing all the tasks my cold cranky self refused to acknowledge yesterday. Good morning world.

blah

Here we are, January. Blech. After so much excitement and hullabaloo the past two months, I now sit here feeling restless and bored. In a rut or a mid-life crisis. Do people actually have those anymore or were they merely a byproduct of restless husbands and wives in the eighties. I remember so many Lifetime movies about just that subject. Anyway, such is my mood today. Wandering Target this morning buying food and more food when I really wanted to spend my gift card on me, I couldn't help but sigh and feel dejected, letdown. I hate when I feel this way. It does nobody any good. Least of all, my family. My temper is short and everything pisses me off. Wrinkle cream, that was my one purchase to make myself feel better. One tiny thing to placate my irritable nature. What I really need is a good injection of Botox right between my eyes, but wrinkle cream was cheaper. See where this is going? Feeling old and broke rather than positive and ambitious. I feel as if my vacation just ended and reality has hit, that re-entry thing I wrote about a few months ago. I need to do a Taylor Swift and shake, shake, shake, shake it off, shake it off yet here I sit complaining to you kids and drinking wine way too early in the day. Oh well, just a mood. Tomorrow I will use all my mental tools to combat this winter depression. Honestly, I have not one thing to complain about yet human nature is never satisfied. I am not satisfied. I spent six long years obsessing and worrying over my husband's career and now he's settled so I feel like a lion out of a cage. I want to take on the world, move my business a little farther into the future, try new things, new adventures with new friends. I am overcome with excitement about the future yet here I sit anxious over the same old, same old. I told my husband yesterday that my life would be easier with a credit card and the minute the words were out of my mouth I was instantly reminded(by the dreamkiller himself)that life would not be easier and I would be in debt up to my eyeballs. I really hate when that man is right. Ooh, it irks me so. Truth be told though, he's right. I would be in debt, my wanderlust taking over all my senses and we would be in Florida right now. At least I would be tan. Oh vanity, you evil bitch. So, I'm not in Florida, I'm in Cleveland and right now the Cle is depressing me. Half melted snow and half warm temps. No commitment to anything, just have to take it as it comes. Oh, it's kinda warm today, great, oh, but it's snowing tomorrow, grand. Right now you're probably like oh quit whining. Yeah, I know, but sometimes it feels sooo good to just get it out and then I feel better. If not I'll pour more wine. Lately I have decided to "just do it" as Nike says. I have realized there are things in life I want and I'm tired of dreaming about them. I am pursuing my life with a vengeance. Unfortunately this way of thinking goes against everything I've been doing the aforementioned six years. It is causing me great anxiety because it goes against a more cautious, practical nature I've developed over these tough years. The economy had me questioning every purchase, cup of coffee, even a magazine was an expenditure. Now, I still feel cautious yet I fight it with all my soul. I am, in a nutshell, fighting myself. I need to remember that life is actually working out just fine. My best laid plans will happen, I am making damn sure. January is just a roadblock, a time to get my thoughts straight, recharge. Tomorrow I will stalk the lake, eager to try out my new winter wet suit. If conditions aren't right I will come home and go crazy on my punching bag. I need to get back to exercise because at this age, wine doesn't just go to my head. Exercise is good for me, without it I end up at my trusty laptop bitching to a silent audience. So thank you dear readers for once again letting me clear my head. Now, I am going to pour more wine, play some Jenga with the little big man, and eat something fattening because tomorrow I start all those God forsaken resolutions and ain't nobody got time for more of my complaining. Good night world.

reflections

Quiet, oh so quiet. No sounds of running feet or clattering pans. Once again here I sit in my big bed with my old coffee next to me trying to condense the happenings of 2014 into a ten inch column. Big man and little big man off to school today while I lounge in my thrift store robe. 2014 was not a good year, it was not a bad year, it was a mixed up year that began with so much sorrow and ended with so much happiness. Looking back, remembering icy cold temps and polar vortexes, I shiver just thinking about it. Today the wind blows strong yet there is just a dusting of snow on the streets. For that I am thankful. This year I will happily take a pass on all things snow related. Last January was spent in a frozen bubble while February brought the passing of the first of my friends. April came about with the loss of the second. Two great men gone and missed everyday. Life is still not the same without my Italian guardians, but life goes on and my memories are strong. I try not to dwell on their passing because I still tear up when thoughts of them creep into my heart. May brought another show, another chance to sell my wares and have fun in the country. The paddle board also made it's spring debut breaking out of it's winter hibernation for the first of many lovely happy hour paddles with friends. The end of May brought heartbreaking news with the death of another friend, this one much younger. The passing of my friend's husband rocked our world and taught us once again that fighting depression can be a losing battle. With June came the end of school for both boys and an impromptu road trip to the Sunshine State with my bestie. For the rest of summer, my son and I were sun-kissed and water-logged while my husband balanced on scaffolding 3 stories high painting old victorian houses.Vacation came and went in a sandy blur and back-to-school was on the horizon. Fall approached with kindergarten and new career possibilities for my husband while I relished my free time and spent every waking moment on the lake. October crash landed with stagnant business at the shop yet a new permanent position as a high school teacher for my husband. Ahhh, here is where the worm began to turn. Winter came with an early blast of cold and snow and a career opportunity for your's truly that blew me away, an appearance on a design show with a hunky host. In case you hadn't heard, you can watch my national television debut on Fix It and Finish It, Monday January 26 at 9:30 a.m. on CBS. There. Shameless self-promotion done. That stressful, whirlwind, so much fun experience will be forever burned in my memory. Here's to many more where that came from, wink, wink. The weeks leading up to Christmas were filled with events, home renovation, friends and family. So much good time spent laughing over good food and cocktails with the favorites in my life. Christmas arrived with my house full of family and love, all lit by the glow of my old Christmas lights. Perfect. Finally, the end, New Year's Eve. Yuck. I hate New Year's Eve. I don't know if it's because the holidays are officially over or the pending anxiety of January and winter. Our celebration was simple this year. My men and I met my girlfriend and her boys at our favorite Mexican spot. Margaritas were drained, teenagers embarrassed, and my husband shaking his head at the normality of it all. After getting our son off to bed, it was just the two of us. Right where we started almost 18 years ago. So much has happened in all these years together. Ups and downs. All spent side by side. Our child now old enough to join hands, us a family, as he likes to say. The three of us, ready to conquer our world, side by side by side. We have come out of the dark and into the light. My heart feels peaceful. My head buzzing with the possibility of new opportunities and adventures. Life is good, life is bad, and life sure can be mixed up yet love is the one constant in our life and this love continues to propel us forward. Cheers 2015 and Happy New Year! Good afternoon world.