end of an era

Funny how life changes in an instant. This is always the thought when someone dies suddenly. Long illness or cancer you expect death and I suppose as one gets up in years you expect it more, but we're never ready. Going about my day with my five year old in tow, it was a pleasant hump day. Good sales, happy customers, happy child make a good day. Then the news comes. That hangdog look upon my neighbor's face that told me instantly what I already knew. How can this be? Two within two months. You hear of this happening with old married couples, but a couple of barbers? To me these were not just any old barbers. They had worked side by side for almost fifty years. They were family to each other. They took family trips to Cedar Point. Their kids grew up side by side in the barbershop. They had been together through love, marriage, kids, divorce, death. These men were old school Italian tough guys with hearts of gold and mouths like sailors. They couldn't have been more different yet were so much alike. Years together will do that. Today Paul left us. A sudden collapse this morning and by afternoon he was gone. Paul started the barbershop and recently celebrated fifty years. It was a surprise party complete with pasta, meatballs, and our local mayor. The vino flowed and in a flashbulb moment my barber and I were captured in a photograph. A photograph that sits beside my desk. Happier times caught on film. After Joe's death I found it hard to enter the barbershop. I couldn't walk by his chair. Paul knew this. Recently he walked in leaving a trail of tiny hairs in his wake. He said I had been on his mind. This was hard for Paul. He wasn't one to let emotion define his persona. He was cool as a cucumber. Classy like an old film star. Paul was who I turned to when life was too much. He listened without saying a word, without judgement. He would give me no bullshit advice that soothed my worried soul. He was peaceful. He made me feel peaceful. Where Joe was loud, Paul was quiet. Even as my child raced through the shop wreaking holy havoc all over the place, Paul remained quiet as he slipped wild child dollar bills. Unflappable. He had been there done that. He traded a wild youth for the love of his life, family, and his barbershop. Devout Catholic. Florida in January. Simple life, what we all strive to achieve. Ten years I had the honor of being their neighbor. I knew this day would come, feared this day would come. Now that they're gone I feel empty, my heart too heavy for words. There will be no more conversations. No more appreciative looks at my backside. No more stories of younger days. No more Saturday pizza or bad coffee. My guardians are gone. The barbershop is dark. I don't know the fate of this iconic local institution, but I'm sure the young barber will take good care of the place. Either way it is the end of an era. Paul, just like Joe, you hold a special place in my heart. I love you and will miss you. Good night world.

parents: part two

Honest to God, there needs to be a manual on how to deal with one's parents once you hit middle age. Nothing I hate more than that moniker, middle age, yuck. Life is so tricky and complicated at this age. There are so many concerns, children, jobs, parents. I realize these are concerns at any age but at 43 you realize there is an urgency to life that wasn't there before. Before, your whole life stretched out in front of you. Now you hear the clock ticking. With that said, I try to keep the life drama to a minimum. This is hard for an emotional person. It is even harder with an emotional mother. Today was a tough one. Today ended with me feeling beat up, stepped on and just plain low. The kicker is, I didn't start the day feeling this way hence why I'm so angry. Today started with a lovely lazy morning watching my favorite bickering ladies of New York City. I've stated before how much better life looks after watching these crazy housewives. Who can blame them though? A bunch of women thrown together and expected to play nice with one another. Ha! Like that always happens? Anyways, I digress. This is what happens when I'm too emotional, my thoughts wander like a toddler in a department store. I mentioned before my mother is like a hurricane and when that wind whips up, watch out because you are in the eye of the storm my friend. Today I was in the eye. My mother particularly hates when she thinks I'm defending my father. So silly. I love them both equally yet am always having to prove my love to my mother. This makes me beyond crazy. I don't understand this weird jealousy or competition that exists only in her head. They say divorce does strange things to people and I believe that, Amen! No good ever comes out of arguing on the phone, but when one is two hours away this happens. After trying to break through the assault on my ear drums I was left with only dead air. Really?!!! She hung up, again. Come on, aren't we adults here? Ahhh, there lies the rub. This is where the tides turn. Role reversal. One hears of it happening yet it's not until you are smack dab in the middle of it when you realize it's happening now. I suppose part of the problem relating to one's parents at this age is exactly that. The relating. After years of being the child, you grow up and become an adult. This is what every parent wants for their child, to pave the way so they can grow up and live separate from the warm safe womb. I believe this is where the switch begins, when there is nothing left to parent. I imagine a feeling of desperation takes hold. A need to be wanted. A fear of being left behind now that their job is over. This is when a parent needs to understand that their job is never over, it has just changed. A natural course of action for a natural progression of life. For some this is difficult and they hold too tight to old habits. Scolding their adult child for talking back or smoking a cigarette or saying fuck. Yes, I believe in respecting my elders, but if I want to say the F word it is my right as an adult. Same goes for smoking or decisions I make concerning my child. They may not always be the right choices, but they are my choices as a mother and should be respected. I also have opinions. Fierce strong liberal opinions that don't always fly with my conservative father. This too is okay because I was raised to have my own mind and be an independent thinker. All this gets forgotten when the parent is facing their adult child. Supposed unconditional love that suddenly has all these conditions. This is where that manual would come in handy. I could flip to a chapter, see the magical answer and everything would be right in the world. Unfortunately it doesn't happen this way and here I sit frustrated and crying. Crying like the child I've been reduced to when faced with my mother's wrath. 43 freakin' years old and upset because mommy got mad. For the love of God, could this be more ridiculous? Well I haven't found any magical answers and this too shall pass, but in the meantime it sure was nice dear readers, borrowing your ears for a little while. Someone to listen is really all we ever need. Good night world.

parents: part one

Our parents always said, "Just wait until you have kids!" Well now I have a child and finally I am able to  understand what they were talking about all these years. Child rearing is not easy, not one little bit. If you have been keeping up with this little blog of mine then you have read my trials and tribulations with our wild child. Raising him in my shop was not easy and there were times I was not proud of my behavior. I was not always patient and kind and soft-spoken. Our lives were hectic and unstable and the economy had crashed. My husband and I were working two jobs, raising our first child, and dealing with disappointment after disappointment when job interviews fell through. Working in a restaurant was not ideal either for it was a late night lifestyle with an early morning riser. We were shell-shocked and bleary-eyed and thought WTF did we do?! Through the past five years we have quit the restaurant job, accepted, very begrudgingly, the economic state of our country, and realized that just having a job is good enough for now. We are happy, healthy, and oh, this child. This child, my 5 year old going on 15 is the best thing to happen to us. He makes us want to be better, nicer, and more patient. I now know what it feels like to unselfishly give to another. Please, don't get me wrong, there are still times when I want the last cookie or I want to buy myself something new instead of another new Lego kit, but watching the little man's joy over his Legos warms my heart. His joy is so bountiful, so honest. As I raise my son I reflect on my childhood and my parents. Family vacations in the car with the fat basset hound and car sick mother. My father especially loved the puking pit stops he'd have to make. To this day that white church at the beach is forever known as "where mom puked". Fighting with my sister over everything. Listening to my parents bicker, my mother all hurricane fury and my father retreating to his office to escape. Christmas Eve traditions with Nat King Cole and finger food. My mother loves finger food. Friday night pizza. Baseball games with my father. Woody Allen movies where my father would giggle and my mother declaring the actor an ass. Listening to her roar with laughter over Peter Seller's Pink Panther movies. My sister and I every Christmas declaring a truce to sleep in her bed and wait for Santa. Now, my parents are divorced. Two people who loved each other madly yet were oil and water when mixed. All that bickering couldn't keep them together. As I think about their marriage and my marriage I can't help but see similarities. My husband and I are complete opposites. I am the hurricane fury like my mother and he is the calm one like my father. I have often wondered if our fate will be like theirs. I have often wondered if all my manic energy will deplete our love for each other. What I have realized, what makes ours different is that we keep trying. My parents would say they kept trying yet one gave up and the other had no choice. Life works like that sometimes. I love my husband implicitly and have learned through thick and thin, don't give up, for he is the only one for me. Yes, my child's memories will hold flashes of bickering and yelling yet he will also remember dada grabbing mama's butt in the kitchen or us holding hands or kissing in the ocean. There will be road trips to the beach with mama's recently acquired motion sickness and that almost incident on the tea cups at the carnival. There will be dogs and old Christmas carols and fancy finger food. Sports and movies and pizza, there's always pizza. As a parent you want to give your child everything and then some. There are good memories and there will also be bad memories, but they will be his memories. His memories to draw upon as he becomes an adult and starts his life separate from us. So to my son I give him my past, my present, and my future. May he always do the right thing with what he's given and may he never give up or forget to love. Good night world.

spring forward

Today I am writing from the shop. My trusty lap top perched on a mound of clutter lovingly referred to as my crap. Daily detritus like old coffee cups, receipts, cleaning supplies, and old junk that has yet to find a home surrounds my technology. My view south as I stare out my open front door is green-brown lawns almost devoid of snow, birds in the trees by the hospital, and everywhere people bustling about. The temperature today has soared to a balmy 57 degrees hence the open front door. Oh, but don't be fooled. It is not spring, nor is it even warm. The thermostat is still stuck on 70 blasting hot air throughout my 1000 square feet. The afghan with the price tag poking my neck is wrapped around my freezing shoulders. What this is, is hope. Hope that whatever chokehold winter has on this city by the lake, she will eventually release her evil grasp. Now as I stated in my most recent posts, I have enjoyed this winter. I did not even mind the polar vortex/snowpocalypse, whatever we were calling that little bit of nastiness. I refused to complain, not only because plenty of others were already doing it for me but if I gave in, then winter would get the best of me. Coming off a tenuous few months of financial fuckdom, my nerves were a bit raw. After Christmas worked it's merry magic and life returned to normal I couldn't allow myself to sink into any kind of despair such as the winter blues. For once in my life positive thinking worked to my advantage. I took one day at a time, didn't complain, and just made the best of it. Nature will always have her way so it's best just to succumb or move. But we survived. We made it through the worst of the worst. All those temperate winters were just teases. Stored up big snowy loads. Then this winter all Hell broke loose and now it's over, well, almost. Weather reports screaming of more. WTF? More snow, ice, and rain. Yay! That's a fun mix. Well, I guess I say "bring it". Let's get it all out of the way. Let's get this winter business done and over with once and for all. My lilac buds will persevere. As for my little frozen fish, I have my doubts, but soon, yes soon we will peel back the cover and be able to find out. It is always hardest to remain patient when one is so close to achievement and my patience is about run out! So let us dream of thawed lakes and front porch drinks. Fired-up grills and summer vacations. Flip flops and sandy toes. Let us fling open our front doors and stop and smell the hyacinths because believe it or not winter does not last forever and Cleveland, together we are about to spring forward. Good afternoon world.

saying goodbye

Today was a tough day and I'm not talking about the migraine that took root in my right temple. No, today I had to say goodbye to an old friend. Saying goodbye to people who have become part of your life is never easy whether they move away or cease to exist. Over the years I have said goodbye to work friends who were like crazy dysfunctional family members and I loved them just the same. I have lost friends to sunnier locations due to heartbreak and a restless need to leave it behind and start over. I have even said goodbye to friends who have just drifted in other directions as so many friendships tend to do. This friend I lost due to his heart's inability to keep on ticking. My friend was 73 years old and over the years he had become my confidante, my protector, "uncle" to my child, neighbor, and simply my friend. He was always there when I unlocked my door at the shop, well except for Wednesdays. On those days he golfed. He had a twinkle in his eye and a big booming voice that sounded like gravel on concrete. Over the 10 years we got to know each other we shared countless conversations over styrofoam cups of bad coffee.We talked cars and politics and women and men and relationships and kids and family. He loved his family fiercely and was so proud of his kids. He brought me bags of homemade pepper cookies pilfered from his 97 year old mother. He brought souvenirs for my wild child from his many pilgrimages to the land of Mickey Mouse. He rode roller coasters like a 10 year old and probably screamed just as loud. Being a barber he was the only one to keep my child calm as he combed out knotted dreadlocks with promises of candy from the jar next to the cash register. He was my favorite dirty old man. I would walk in and sit in his lap and give him big kisses just to hear him laugh and call me sweetheart in that throaty voice of his. Whether I saw him everyday or not, it was a comfort just knowing he was on the other side of my wall. Now he is gone and just like his empty barber chair my heart feels strange and empty as well. I will give it to the Catholics, they certainly know how to send one on his eternal way. The old school Italian church with it's beautiful old statuary, confessionals and candles granted me peace the moment I stepped inside. The ripe musky scent of incense as the sun poured through the peacock bright stained-glass windows during the strains of Ava Maria was just too overwhelming and there I sat sobbing like a child. I am not an overtly religious person preferring instead to keep my faith internal, but in this church there was God and he was there to welcome my friend. Even the priest was powerless against this beauty as his voice broke over and over while he said mass for this special person. Rounding it all out with a military flag folding ceremony and the sound of Taps playing in the background was a fitting ending for such a wonderful man. A man who loved life, too much perhaps, for in the end it all caught up with him and now he's gone. Oh sure, over time my heart will heal but the barbershop is different now. The empty chair a reminder of what was. I love you Joe, rest in peace. Goodnight world.

snow day

Awaking at three a.m. to the sound of soft padding feet descending our stairs had me in a coma-like confused state. Our mixed-up midnight rambler thought it was time to start his day. Oh no. It's time to get back in bed like the rest of us. Claiming he couldn't sleep I retrieved extra blankets and crawled in next to the little man tucking his warm fleecy body against mine while the wind howled outside his window. Cozy in his single bed, my last thought before I drifted off was please no school. The thought of having to get up in the cold, wrestle with winter clothes, fight the snow, avoid the crazy parent drivers was not quite appealing at this hour. At about 5:30 a.m. my husband poked his head in the room to announce no school today. Ahhh, yes, I can go back to sleep. Lazy morning. At seven a.m. my husband got his alert that school was cancelled. Ok, here we go, yet another snow day. This winter has been heavy on not only snow but family time due to the snow. Being spoiled the past few years by extremely temperate winters, we are not used to this. I'll say this much, we're definitely a closer family this winter. Making the most of the situation is really all one can do to get through these long cold days. We have spent a LOT of time sledding, skating, playing games, baking, cooking. I have made countless cups of hot cocoa to go with popcorn and movies. We have traversed frozen ice waves on the lake and where the beach is supposed to be. Braving freezing winds just to get out of the house. Today will be no different. After another fresh 6 to 10 inches of snowfall last night we will be bundling up in snow pants and coats to fly down another snow covered hill. I should go to work, but really, who's going shopping in mounds of snow. Tomorrow I will open. Tomorrow this will all start to melt. Today I will spend the day with these beautiful boys of mine. We will sled and shovel grammy's driveway and make homemade pizza. There will be hot showers and early bedtime because tomorrow there will be school and although the week starts late, the next 3 days are busy ones. Today though, today is a snow day and since it is most likely the last one, we as a family will spend it joined at the hip. Because these cold days are numbered, age 5 doesn't last forever and there is Devil's Hill to conquer today. Good morning world.

forever young

I don't like getting older. Really, what woman does? How many women do you know that actually say "woohoo, I love my gray hair" or " these age lines really DO give me character". The Hell with that. I don't like my age lines especially the well-grooved two between my eyebrows. Oh sure they give them a fun little nickname, "the elevens". Who thought that up? Just dumb. Well my "elevens" just make me look like I'm mad at the world. Don't even get me started on sun damage. My mother always warned me to wear sun block and watch my face. Well mom, it's there and I love the sun and I love the water and I don't see that changing so I guess I move to the spf 50 this summer. I'll be protected like a red head at high noon. I've written about age before and how I refuse to let it affect me, but as you can see, it didn't work. Age affects you. It affects you every time you visit a doctor and hold your breath because you never had to worry about the scary stuff before. Watching your doctor clam up after seeing "something" on a computer screen, well that pretty much terrifies me. I don't like these forties. Sure I'm wiser, that's a given. You just know more as you get older. You know that the world will always need saving and there are bad people who do bad things to others, but somehow you manage to not let every single plight affect how you live your life. You know that trends come and go and everything repeats itself and each generation that repeats these trends thinks they're the first to do so. Life is funny. We all think we are so unique and different from everyone else when actually we're all the same. Yep, we may look different, act different, smell different, but we are all just human and that makes us all the same. We are born, we live, and we die. How we live is what matters. Throw that age number to the wind and just be yourself. I am 43. I don't feel 43. So what if I was probably the oldest person at Friday night skate. I can still race around the rink as well as the tweens, maybe better. So what if I spent an afternoon watching young angsty vampire movies. I like vampires. Always have, since I was in sixth grade. Only my vampire knowledge started with Catherine Deneuve and David Bowie in The Hunger, way before Anne Rice and Stephanie Meyer. Although I do have to say every time Twilight movies are on the world stops and I am rapt with attention and my husband rolls his eyes at me. "Sled boarding" down a homemade snow ramp is not something responsible adults do, but it sure was fun and my child loved seeing mama be an idiot. Signing up for SnapChat so I can make dumb videos with my twenty-something friends is just fun. My husband and I have spent most of our lives working with people half our age and for this I am thankful. It has helped us stay young at heart. It helps when middle-age life starts creeping in and the bills pile up and job concerns keep my eyes glued to the ceiling at night. It helps to know I can tie on my old roller skates from seventh grade and glide across that polished wood floor without a care in the world. As Alphaville proclaimed in the eighties, "Let us die young or let us live forever. We don't have the power but we never say never. Sitting in a sand pit, life is a short trip....forever young, I want to be...Goodnight world.

for better or for worse

So here I sit, curled up in bed while big fat snow flakes fall outside my window. The furnace hums along, the only sound besides my tapping of computer keys in this otherwise silent house. Ahhh, silence. How easily we take it for granted. This house has not heard such silence in a long time. I'm not going to lie to you, this has been one tough winter. No, I'm not talking about the weather. The past four months have been a never ending struggle of overwhelming responsibility that threatened to suck the life right out of me. This my friends is why my writing has been sparse. I started this blog as a means to vent my frustration with everyday life and the struggles we as a family face. I started this in the hopes that if someone could relate to our situation, even just once, then they would know they weren't alone. The entire country has suffered, is still suffering, and hope tends to fall short. My objective was to restore a little of that hope by writing what I know, my life, our life, kids, careers, and still this crappy economy. I suppose that's a good thing, the still crappy economy, otherwise I'd have to change the blog name. As therapeutic as my writing may be, it is still difficult at times to throw all your feelings and emotions into a media so public. These past four months have been wrought with feelings and emotions. They have been filled with knock-down drag out fights with my husband about our financial situation. Unemployment is downright freaking scary and in today's world we need 2 incomes to make a house, business, and family run properly. My husband is my soul mate, but this my friends, this has definitely been the for better or for worse part. It is extremely hard to look at someone you love more than anything on this earth and at the same time want to punch them in the face for creating the situation. One tiny bit of procrastination and I was living my worst nightmare. I suppose in that respect I'm lucky. Where most women worry about other women, I worry about procrastination and it's consequences. Four months of holding my breath so tight I thought I would choke. Four months of nasty bitterness and resentment directed at this soul mate of mine. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair yet I felt so hopeless, so full of despair, that I couldn't be any other way. My husband took my verbal blows like Muhammad Ali deflecting punches. He was still my rock through all the anger directed his way. He was still solid and kind and beautiful in his heart. He made me wish to be better, nicer, less angry. So much said in such a short time. So many doors slammed. So you see my friends, this kind of emotion is hard to talk about. This is the kind of stuff made for behind closed doors. This is the kind of stuff that also lets you know you are still not alone and we are all in this crazy shit together. Today, my husband went off to work and my child went off to school and life was normal again. Balance has been restored. I can finally see the forest through the trees and I will never give up on this life, this man who completes my sentences. For richer or for poorer this man, my husband, completes me. Good afternoon world, it's great to be back!

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.

holidaze

Wow, I can't believe we are 5 days away from Christmas! Talk about a blur of a month! Unable to motivate myself to the treadmill this morning I have plunked down on this lovely sofa with my giant cup of coffee. Cozy in my ugly robe I decided this was way more conducive to my lazy mood than running and gasping for air trying to fight off last night's 2nd Mexican feast of the week. The holidays have kicked my ass this year. I feel like I haven't sat down since mid-November. After a whirlwind of a Black Friday, big college football game and dinner with friends, the Christmas season had officially begun. Not only is my store ablaze with Christmas finery, but my home as well. Not only do we have Christmas trees in every size, shape, age, and color, but glowing gnomes and Santas as well. Big bulb lights around the door, white twinkle lights adorned with cotton balls to imitate glowy snow, and of course trees that light up surrounded by herds of white plastic deer. This, I told myself, was taking it "easy" this year. Yeah right. Trays and trays of chocolate chip cookies were baked than hidden with warning notes, to no avail. My two cookie monsters made light work of those. Countless bottles of wine and beer opened for the countless events held in my little city. Christmas parade, tree lighting ceremony, Christmas open house night, marauding carolers crowding my tiny store. Events geared to bring out the locals to shop local. Again, a whirlwind of holiday activity that left my heart tickled and my body exhausted. Along with the holiday business blur came my social engagements.A fresh hair cut and fake eyelashes had me ready for nights out on the town. More drinks and food and friends. Don't get me wrong, I am NOT complaining. I LOVE all this activity, but my stomach is ready for a little plop plop fizz fizz. So here we are, final stretch. Tonight I get a rare night out with my betrothed. Christmas shopping for our little love than dinner with my man. We are like kids ourselves when choosing the myriad of gifts with which to spoil him rotten. Oh Thomas the train, you are taking over my living room along with the fleet of firetrucks and service vehicles. After tonight there is still more shopping due to my procrastination, more dinners with friends, and more baking to do because you know Santa needs his cookies too. All the socializing and shopping and decorating may seem tiring and endless, but this is my FAVORITE holiday, and well, I live for this shit! If that dreadful Mayan calender proves wrong, I can rest in January, but for now, finally amped up on black coffee, it's time to go to work. The treadmill, well, later. Good morning world.

stuffed

Well here I sit molded to the sofa, already in my pjs by 6:30 and coughing up my lungs. After a whirlwind of a week of work and holiday festivities I am left with this lovely cold and the muffin top threatening to creep over my bottoms. Snuggled in next to my husband and his neverending obsession with those angry birds, Mickey Mouse Club on the tv and my little love eating his dinner, "us a family" to quote my 4 year old. That's right my dear, us a family. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays where even though the thanks is in the title we still have to remind ourselves why we aren't working and are about to shove platterfuls of food in our faces. Thankful is what we are, what we need to remember. Thankful for our health, home, family, football and of course the turkey. Oh sure Columbus and the pilgrims had something to do with all this, but after years of hearing about the rape and pillage of the new world upon landing, I've put the history on the back burner and just am thankful for the life I have been given. Oh I know I can gripe with the best of them, I mean who doesn't, but when you get right down to brass tacks, it ain't all so bad. My leaky old house, my crazy business, my wild child, my husband's career, all just reasons to appreciate what we have even more.  The first half of Thanksgiving was spent in a nauseous haze trying to get over this cold. After my gingerale I was up and cooking my mac and cheese and famous cranberry sauce. Soon after work demanded a small portion of my time. Upon rummaging through a box of old Christmas lights my dad had passed on to me I was struck by one of the old price tags of all things. As the montage of 1980's memories played through my head I suddenly found myself sobbing in my attic. Divorce is never easy on any family and having gone through my parents in my thirties, I feel it's even harder as an adult. Now as these memories of my mom and dad, my sister and I played on in my mind I was struck with that melancholy of a life lost. Now being in the business I am of basically selling memories, I am NOT one to hold on to the past. To me the past is money which supports my family. This sudden rush of emotion was surprising to me. I didn't feel so much sad as reflective. Taking after my mother I am helpless with emotion and it always pours out my eyeballs. Drives me nuts. This was different. This time I welcomed the onslaught of emotion. It was nice to think of the four of us before it all went down. I hadn't looked at us as a family in a long time. Joining my husband's family filled that void left after the divorce, but now reminiscing in my attic reminded me from whence I came. My dad running behind my training wheel-less bike, my mom taking me to get my ears pierced, sleeping in my sister's bed every Christmas eve, just a few sweet thoughts that filled my crazy brain and made me realize just how thankful I was for the time we had together. Moving on to my mother-in-law's for the feast and family frenzy I was again struck with memories,this time of my father-in-law at the table. My mother-in-law extremely subdued this year was feeling the same vibe. Upon returning home and finding ourselves on the couch contemplating thirds, I suddenly realized just how stuffed I was. Stuffed full of good memories of my favorite people in different stages of my life. No matter where we all are at any given moment, us still a family. Goodnight world.

old house

"What's wrong with your sink?" asked my mother-in-law as she poured out the dregs of her coffee. If only I had an answer. What's wrong with my sink? Well probably the same thing that was wrong with our toilet and bathroom sink and roof and front steps etc. Old house. Ah yes, home ownership, what a grand concept. Yes, owning a home is better than renting, so they tell you. It's an investment others say, well maybe when one was actually able to sell their home and make a little profit. Now owning a home just seems like another job and I'll tell ya, I've had plenty of those, jobs that is. Buying your first home, never a prouder moment. Realizing that all the important stuff was already rigged by the previous owners, irritating. The cheap shower install that covered up the bathroom window, nice. The leak in the pipe that became a torrential downpour of, how do I put this eloquently, pisswater all over our kitchen counter, again, nice. The unintentional skylights in our garage roof while I was pregnant, lovely. The faux marble formica and "oak" laminate bathroom vanity that I lived with until our more recent bathroom redo. Ugh, the list goes on. So far in the oh, 9 years we've lived in this house we added a new furnace to replace the harvest gold monstrosity. New garage roof as well as one for the house. Luckily that one was due to hail damage and came courtesy of the insurance company. Eighteen hundred dollars of bathroom plumbing to fix those issues only to be left with a running toilet that hissed at us day after day only to find out it was a "flapper" causing the problem. Thanks dad for fixing that one. The bathroom renovation that lasted the summer I was pregnant. Worrying and barking orders at my poor husband and father as they tried to turn the 1980's country look into my white subway tile dream before the baby arrived. We also added a low deck, stone courtyard, pergola and pond to the back yard as well as extensive perrenials to the front. So nice that the roofers destroyed part of that. Oh big sigh. Now the city where I reside has a big issue with some peeling paint trim and unpainted front steps. We have lined up the painter, agreed to the estimate yet somehow we are not moving fast enough for these folks. After that is finished, we redo the kitchen because the lovely bathroom leak has caused my old cabinets to warp a bit along with the slightly crumbling wall made soft by my now dead 200 lb dog's slobbery splashy water drinking. Not to mention the myriad of interior paint colors and 4 different dining room tables until I found just the right one. Lord, I think I may have to yoga breathe as I write this, so tense that it makes me. Thankfully I love my home. Despite it's issues this home has been good to us. I have been able to use what I know to make it cute and charming and this is where we brought home our son.  Painting the exterior and one more major redo this spring to bring my kitchen into the 21st century and than the For Sale sign goes up. It's a cruel joke, home ownership. You work hard to turn your house into a home and than you sell it. Now, where is that plunger? Good night world.

powerless

Wow, what a week! Nothing like a hurricane to take your mind off your troubles and the election. I guess I should say, add to your troubles considering the amount of people without power. A power outage is always kind of fun even romantic in the beginning. You build a fire, you play games, get close with your spouse, toast marshmallows or hot dogs. You know, do what families do when they aren't working or going to the grocery store every 5 seconds. Sitting in front of the neverending fire, holding my son while he fell asleep in my arms, I was just where I wanted to be. Three nights of that and my son's hair looked like a rat's nest by the fourth day causing me to look at him and wonder when he last had a bath. By that fourth day after dropping him at school again, still a dirtball, I was ready to fly the coop. My husband and I were so whacked out by the power outage, forgetting what day it was, we needed to come out of our hermit shelter and face our populace. One last fire, one last cup of coffee and we were off! Breakfast and visiting friends and family had us feeling like our old selves. Dinner out had me feeling my muffin top and thinking about that damn treadmill, so silent that it was. Upon coming home, we were greeted by the orange glow of my electric spider web, left on before it all went off. Ahh, cable tv, internet, HEAT. We are one spoiled population, let me tell you. So many people dealing with so much less and we worry about charging our phones. Well, we are a product of our environment, powerless. Now on the eve of this election I can't help but feel that way, knowing how much is at stake in this election. I know my husband and I will be voting first thing in the morning, even making a date out of it, but at the moment I just worry. I am doing my usual escapism today, cleaning, cooking, etc., but I worry and I pray. I pray for a better, nicer country, I pray for stability, and most of all I pray for our health and happiness. The last four years have been rough, new child, economic depression, job searches. Powerless, nothing we could do but let it ride. Waiting for progress to reach you is frustrating at best. I am hopeful and I never give up. I believe we can move forward and there is power waiting at the end of another 4 years. I believe that all my rights as a woman will not be jeopardized. I believe my husband will find that elusive full-time job in education and that my business will persevere.  For tonight I will think about our future knowing that in the morning I will be casting my vote with the rest of you. This one simple act of DOING SOMETHING gives us the power. Don't vote and you remain nothing but powerless. Good night world.

election

Well, here we go. I don't know what on earth is posessing me to touch this subject, but coming into the home stretch, I am unable to let it pass. I never thought I would write about sports either, but 2 posts ago proved me wrong. Ok. I am not writing this to sway your decision. I am not writing this to make my decision known, but I think if you've kept up with me in my literary adventure you may have an inkling anyway. I am writing because that is what I do(now). Writing has become my therapy and feeling like I do today, I need it. As mentioned in my previous post, election years wreak havoc on retail. This is now the fourth election my business will be surviving long after whomever is elected is gone. After an extremely dismal weekend at the shop, my spirits have been lower than low. I really hate to equate my self-worth with how much income I bring in, but when it's your own business, everything gets taken personally. Let me just say that my income is used to better my family and my business. My self-worth has more to do with how well I can provide for them than my own financial gain.  My husband says this lull in sales will pass. I know he's right. I know I am not the only one trying to get this crap over with so we can return to some semblance of normalcy. Financial stability is not the only thing I wish back to normal.  I wish people would not use this election and its candidates as fuel for hatred and intolerance. I feel I am constantly being bombarded by negativity on all fronts. Our lives and relationships have been divided.  Black vs. white, gay vs. straight, rich vs. poor, patriot vs. non-patriot, Christian vs. non-Christian, even man vs woman. I just can't take it anymore. This country has become so fueled by hatred one can feel it around every corner. Do I even need to bring up that dreaded chicken fast-food place. Freedom of speech aside, I have never been so embarrassed to be a citizen of this country as I was when I watched that hate-filled debacle. Grown men and women acting like jackasses just because they don't like a person's choice of partner. Intolerance on any level is not acceptable in my world. Like it or not we are all in this together and to quote one of our illustrious founders,"All men are created equal". That in itself should just say it all. We may not like our neighbor, we may not like a person's opinions, partner or even social status, but does that give each and everyone of us a RIGHT to tell them not to BE that way.Heck, I really wish my neighbor would get a job and stop peeing off his balcony, but that's his choice, not mine. Well I certainly didn't mean to get back on my cyber soap box, but enough is enough. I am tired of feeling like we have transported back to the sixties what with the war, the election, women's rights, even the whole organic/green movement. What's next race riots? Are we going to be so angry if our current president stays in office that we'll "take it to the streets". Come on people now, smile on each other. This hate-filled feudal system we live in now has to stop. We the people have to make the change. It may start with a vote or it may start with just one kind gesture, but the hatred will be our undoing if allowed to continue. I may sound preachy, even liberal and idealistic, but again as stated before, it's my blog and I'll say what I want to. Everybody get together, try to love one another...right now. Good night world.

home

Falling temps, grinning jack-o-lanterns, and a pending BIG election all reminding me we're in October. Not to mention falling sales as everyone hunkers down waiting for the big day and the big news. Oh well, I've been through this before and I'll get through it again. In retail October is always an el sucko month made worse by the looming election. In order to not let this get the best of me I am adapting a new no worry attitude, working harder, and reveling in the warm spookiness of my home. Now as you all know, Christmas is my thing. Bedecked and bedazzled halls in glittery vintage splendor make me happy. My husband, well, no. Aha, but there is a new ally bouncing around my house. My four year old is enchanted by all things holiday whether it be Christmas, Easter or Halloween. Halloween has always been my mother's favorite probably because her birthday is smack dab in the middle of the merriment. She really loves her birthday. Each year she precariously perches on her rooftop in order to display her leering electric pumpkins. Crazy you say? Normal I say. Guess this apple didn't fall too far from the tree. I have deemed this the 31 days of Halloween. Each day Sully and I have a new decoration, craft or treat to work on. Dollar store gravestones in the front AND back yard. Glittered skulls and bony torsos chill on the porch lit by the Christmas light spider web. A trip to the store's basement unearthed a bevy of orange pillar candles scored at an estate sale along with the vintage tissue balls hanging in the windows. My vintage blow-mold light-up owl makes me grin.  Black cats and bloody handprints finish off the evil aesthetic. Thankfully my husband has learned to just smile and ignore, but I really think he enjoys the warm orange glowiness of it all. Settling in to this rainy month has also prompted the urge to cook those perfect autumn meals. Homemade bread, baked pastas, chicken-pumpkin chili(that was a good one)beef stew, all seasonally satisfying. One particular dreary cold day had us all in front of the fireplace. Refusing to turn the furnace on we succumbed to our pioneer urgings. Bundled in my afghan ALL DAY, I sat like a lump on the sofa reading my suspense novel. Refusing to move until my husband returned with smore makings I was suddenly re-energized. Nothing tickles a four year old more than sticking something into a roaring fire. With all the goings on in our fair city, no amount of friends or festivals could tear me away from my two men. Domesticity may sound boring to some, but as the wind blows and the rain pelts the windows, my heart is where my home is. Goodnight world.

football

Now this is one topic I never in my life thought I would be writing about. Growing up in the "Steel City" one could never get enough of the Pittsburgh Steelers. My dad would spend every Sunday yelling and swearing at the television. You couldn't pass through a mall without being besieged by Terrible Towel kiosks. My mother, sister, and I having zero interest in all things sports related would jump out of our skins everytime my dad would yell , so accustomed to his ususal quiet nature. Mild-mannered by day, my father would develop a mouth like a truck driver when it came to the "Stillers". Now, being an adult in a city with the world's WORST football team, I find myself swearing out of frustration. One really has to admire the tenacity of this town's fans. Forever disappointed week after week, they cling to any small victory feverishly proclaiming this is gonna be the year! Not likely. Sorry Brown's fans, but I get very aggravated watching you deflate time and again shrugging off another loss. I don't get it! It's one thing to watch a winning team, the excitement so infectious it's hard to stay planted in your butt-shaped couch indentation. I know, I know, it's the whole our city, our team mentality, but come on, haven't we learned this lesson by now? Oh, I am so going to catch Hell for this, but stay with me a moment, there is a point to this rant. Last year I had my first taste of college football. All I can say is WOW! Being in that stadium, cheering for my nephew among the fans, feeling that excitement was, well, WOW! I love the sheer innocence of these boys. I love that they're not tainted by money, fame, and women. Ok, yes, they get the fame and the chicks and money from the school, but it's just different. Watching my nephew sack and tackle, hair flying, was amazing. I was so proud. To just have that instinct, I would probably be running the wrong way. That is if I were male and 20 years younger. This past weekend I had the opportunity to watch his brother lead his team. Sadly it was a loss, but a good game none-the-less. The first half dragged along as if they were running through muck, hungover. The second half as the game heated up, one could feel that familiar electricity in the air. Now you have to understand, for me to even say "second half" is a strange surreality for me and anyone that knows me. This is my testament to how much I have fallen for this game. As I watched my nephew leap in the air and score his second touchdown of the game, I again felt my heart burst with pride for this boy I have watched grow up and become a man. Sitting in those stands, surrounded by family, life was good. So yes, I get it, this crazy violent game and the fans who come week after week to watch their team and soak up that testosterone driven energy. Now you won't find me analyzing and discussing stats and trades and players, but you bet your ass I will be yelling and swearing like the best of them come November when I get my next "fix". Until than I will be content to watch their games on ESPN in the warmth of my living room while my husband cringes at the string of expletives erupting from my mouth. Like father like daughter. Goodnight world.

bored

Today a friend posted that she was bored with the crappy day, she was too broke to go shopping, and it was too early to start drinking, but at least she had bacon. Well after laughing, I thought, way to turn lemons into lemonade. It is that kind of positive attitude one sometimes needs to get through a boring, dreary, rainy, run-of-the-mill day. Today I had big intentions for my time alone in the shop. After having coffee and watching the weather, I realized those big intentions weren't happening. Completely disgruntled with my lack of business which lead to my lack of enthusiasm for my projects, I planted my derriere on my sold vintage sofa and did nothing. All day I had this anticipatory feeling, like waiting for company to arrive, but to no avail. There I sat and there I waited. Bored, bored, bored. I don't do bored well, so used to always being busy. I was out of paint so nothing got painted. I was out of money so no new stock came in. By the end of the day I was completely out of patience. Even my fresh-baked zucchini bread couldn't comfort my bleak mood. Upon coming home to dishes in the sink and garbage not put out didn't help my situation either. This of course lead to words with my husband who truly did not deserve my wrath. On top of that, my crappy contact feels like glass in my eye and by 5:00 I was ready to scream. Even my treadmill made me angry, staring at me the way it does. Any positive thoughts about that lemonade went right out the door. Ahhh, big sigh. Of course as I always say when these insignificant, trivial matters clutter my brain and my day, there are some that have it worse. I could be homeless or without my family or have a lot of credit card debt. I suppose we complain to feel better about ourselves without realizing how stupid our complaints sound in the grand scheme of things. I built this little blog of mine based on my internal struggles with our world. There are just some days where life is not all hearts and unicorns and today is one of them. Tomorrow will be better. Thursday I get to shop for the store and Friday I have lovely dinner plans. Until than I will pour a glass of wine and cook up my bacon. Good night world.