Jun 17, 2015
Their initial work was impeccable. Within a few days the place was looking great and their prices were reasonable. But the best part was that it freed my husband from one of the many chores he does along with working a lot of hours at our restaurant. Win. Win. Right?
Last week I asked these men if they'd be interested in repairing and painting our deck and painting the trim on our house. They were thrilled for the work, but asked if I'd mind paying them in advance so they could get a few supplies and such. It should have been a red flag, but my trusting soul handed them a check. They did come out the next day to start on the deck, but didn't follow any of the guidelines from the paint manufacturer. Didn't use the deck-wash we bought. Didn't use the power sprayer we left for them, just did a little sanding on the rail and threw a sloppy coat of paint on PART of the deck and then left.
It's been a week and I haven't heard a word. The owner's cell goes straight to voice mail. The check was cashed. And nobody showed up Friday for the scheduled lawn care.
Above and beyond the financial aspect of this transaction is my broken heart. I really liked these guys. One even showed me a picture of his sweet twin girls and spoke of how much he loved them. I trusted them completely and that isn't easy for me to do.
So, what's next? Do I just wait and see if they call with some excuse about an emergency and that they couldn't call me because they had no cell service? Do I give them another chance? I'm pretty sure I'll never see that money again, but do I trust someone else to do the work and pay AGAIN to have it done right? Or do I add even more pressure to my husband and expect him to fix this mess? It's been weighing so heavily on my mind and heart that I actually had a panic attack yesterday. Haven't had one of those for years.
So, dear reader. What should I do?
Jun 12, 2015
About two years ago I began the process of switching rooms with my son. He had a small room in the front of the house, while my office was in the largest bedroom in the back of the house. About half way through the process our kitchen flooded and the whole thing was put on hold, leaving both rooms disorganized and barely functional.
Not long after the kitchen was fixed (which took three months), I got sick and the last thing I wanted to do was heft boxes around and move furniture. With my husband's help, my son's room was finally finished a few months before he moved out on his own (figures). But it's taken me quite some time to feel like diving back into my office project, which looked and felt like an overcrowded storage room with a hole cut into the center for my computer.
That is until I saw this little piece of inspiration for sale at a nearby boutique. It's a rescued piano that's been made into a desk. YES, a DESK!! Who wouldn't want to write the great American novel while surrounded by such beauty and ambiance?
So, I put it on layaway and began carving out room for it in my cluttered excuse for an office. That was the plan. Just a space for the new desk. But once I started, I couldn't stop, and now the whole space is organized and WONDERFUL.
It took me three months to pay it off and a pretty penny to hire a couple guys to deliver it (still has the cast iron harp in it and weighs a ton). It took them over an hour to get it out of the trailer, up three steps and onto my deck. Then they had to turn it on it's side to get it through my office door.
Here is, in all it's glory, right where it was always meant to be. Just seeing this picture brings tears to my eyes. It's SOOO ME, right down to the little white tiger watching over it.
And I'm all ready to write. That's the best part.
So, what do you think??? Do you like it?
Feb 27, 2015
After Peggy saved millions of people from death, someone else was given the credit and her colleague thought she should set things straight. Peggy turned to him and said, "I know my value. Everyone else's opinion doesn't matter."
How wonderful to have such confidence. That is my goal--to know my own value. To be able to say, "I am of great worth." And mean it. To not let others influence me and my life's work because they may think I'm less than I should be or that I'm not good enough.
I don't need to be a best selling author to know I am a great storyteller and that others enjoy my books. I don't need friends and family to stroke my ego to know that I have God given talents that make me unique and that I have every right to share those talents with others. And I certainly don't need to be a size 4 to love my body and not let the number on a scale define me. I am a daughter of God and he created me for a purpose. That alone should give me the strength to stand tall and confident in the storm of criticism and negativity.
I truly believe that each one of us can overcome anything that is thrown at us if we just remember who we are and that we have value. Be strong, my friends. YOU are of GREAT WORTH!!!
Feb 13, 2015
I totally get that.
There have been times when I considered quitting, especially in the beginning. But because I love being a story teller and writing about characters that live and breathe in my warped little brain, it's not in me to throw it all away.
That's not to say that we, as published authors, can't take a break once in a while. It's necessary to refill our cups and heal our spirits.
I took almost a year off in 2013-14 because of my health. Getting my physical health back was a priority for me and I had to put everything else on the back burner, regardless of promised release dates. Day by day, I've worked to get back into the habit of writing. It wasn't easy, and sometimes I lapse into a few days of ignoring my muse. But that's okay because this week I could finally see the old me returning and it feels great.
I guess what I'm saying is . . . it's okay to take a break. In fact, it's necessary. We all need to stop, take a breath and heal our emotional and spiritual selves. But that doesn't mean we need to quit. If you're anything like me, writing is in your blood. It's part of you. Killing it will kill a part of you that you may never get back.