Month: August 2019

Hello dream seekers, passion finders and flustered folks who don’t have any idea which way they are headed!

Since last weeks post “The $100 challenge” I hope you’ve started to save your pennies…(dimes, quarters and nickels too) as we are trying to put $20 a week away to add to the pursuit of our passion!

If you missed part one, please scroll down to post one and give it a quick little read. 

So, it’s week two- if your saving WOO HOO! If you’re anything like me, you’ll be looking for deals and maybe spending along the way! That’s the best way to get the deals!

While visiting family in Georgia I stopped by one of my favorite stores, Kirklands. What do I find inside, but a beautiful large print of an old typewriter, very similar to one I was given as a gift!

I knew I had to have it for my home. One thing you’d notice if you ever visited my home is that I don’t really have “artwork”.   My passion has always been my family and I decorate my home with photos almost exclusively! 

But, now I have this dream of my own writing area, and things changed. While at Kirkland’s I see this large print- priced at forty nine dollars but marked down to twelve! Evidently, you all are not searching for prints of typewriters as often as they thought you would be! (A win for me). I jumped at the chance to buy it!     I’m sure I gasped, or clapped or maybe even shed a tear as I do get overly excited at these kind of things. Just last weekend I literally started clapping upon entering an ice cream shop, because it was soooo cute, and looks just like the one I envisioned myself opening some day- they even had the same bowls I had picked out! But, that’s a passion post for another day, back to artwork…

So, I bought the artwork and I’m really happy with it! It’s bold, beautiful and my “statement piece”. With twelve of my forty dollars spent- I looked for another deal and won a long used hotel table over an online auction site- twenty six more dollar… gone, but the vision is coming together at this point!  It needing sanding and a fresh coat of black lacquer which I already had in my craft stash so I’m counting that as zero spent on improvements!

Time to start saving for another week! In the meanwhile, I’ve shopped within my house, gathering some pretty storage boxes from my closet- and of course I’m including my coveted angel who sits reading that Ive owned for over fifteen years. She was made to be an outdoor garden piece, but I’ve loved having her in my living room and have decided to promote her to my writing desk! 

So, as we wrap up part two of our challenge- keep in mind all the resources that are available today. Women in business groups, programs for start ups etc. Keep your eyes on the prize and know that it’s okay to take baby steps, it’s okay to be scared out of your wits- but it’s not okay to remain stagnant.

You’re worth more than that! 

Till next time-

Erin 

It is not uncommon for me to utter the words “You wanna run away with me?” to my husband at the end of a long day. It sounds soooo good to just utter the words. He always reminds me I’d get lonely for the kids and Grandkids, and before drifting completely off to sleep he will remind me that we’ve built a life we don’t need to run away from. He’s always got a good perspective. 

I’ve only ran away from home once-  When I was five years old. I don’t recall why but I’m sure I was as fired up as a sassy five year old could be. The youngest of five, with only eight years between myself and the oldest brother I’m sure somebody wasn’t wanting to include me in their activities and I had decided life would be better if I packed up and left. The details are a bit sketchy, but I remember I had a few items in a bag- I was still in pajamas and I was being sassy about leaving. I was handed a sack lunch by my mom who informed me I’d be getting hungry soon.  I believe it was also mentioned that I’d be taking care of myself now..a little reality check sprinkled in with some good old fashioned mom guilt for good measure.

Adventurous as I must have felt, I ended up across the street in the lawn of our church. I was very familiar with this spot. My best friend lived across the street from me, next to the church as her father was our pastor. We used to play on that lawn daily. I’m sure it felt welcoming and safe, and heck I crossed the street so I must have felt very independent! I ended up hunkering down under a pine tree. The boughs falling all the way to the ground,  I remember lifting the heavy branch to crawl under. I’m sure I settled in, feeling like I’d be there forever, but I’m not one to be alone- so when the bough lifted a short while later and it was my Dad telling me I had to come home- I didn’t resist too much. 

So, here I am now, the grown up. The Grandma for heavens sake, and still at least once a month I whisper “Can we run away?” to my hubby as he tries to drift off to sleep. It’s the restless nights where I’ve already tired my mind with the days business and the nonsense you think of when you can’t fall asleep…. What if monkeys could crochet? What happened to Mr. Thompson after eighth grade graduation? What ever happened to my childhood plastic animal collection?  But on top of the nonsense, there has been true deep thoughts about life’s purpose, life expectancies and legacies. Worry over our children and now Grandchildren. I mull this all over, nightly. Im in hot pursuit to not only become a better person but to be sure I am doing all I should with all this life has to offer. The phase “life is not a spectator sport” is very true, and I try to achieve and balance it all. Laughing, loving, struggling and celebrating. I am careful to never take the good moments for granted. Never run away from the life we’ve busted our backs to make. Never run away from a situation that is in front of us. I have faith that the outcome will be what the good lord intends. So, I’ll stay firmly planted. I’ll leave the runaway days to the five year old who felt lost in the shuffle. As I try to focus on building this passion filled life, I will remind myself that as long as I am settled in next to my man at night there’s no reason to run away, even if he’s willing to come with. 

This summer, I had a fun visit with my first friend. She was the one who lived in the house next to the church where I had taken refuge in the pine tree. We decided that we couldn’t be so close to our childhood homes and not take a trip down memory lane. Coffees in hand, we parked in the church parking lot where decades before we had played tag, and learned how to ride two wheel bikes. The empty field where we would have neighborhood ball games now was filled with homes. We stood on the stairs of her old home and recreated a photo of us taken the first day of kindergarten- I think we both felt a quick ping of pain for all the years that had passed.

About forty seven years have passed since I lifted the bough of that tree- but looking at it standing there all trimmed and grand I couldn’t help but think of that day.

I had to take a minute and sit under the tree again. I’m a sucker for sentimental moments, moments like this remind me that Ive never been one to wander far from my roots. Even at the age of five. 

A reminder that I don’t ever need to run away from home again. My heart is full where I am.

Till next time- Erin

Ugggg, here it is again. 

That feeling of want, and of wishing you were here. No surprise…been fighting it all day. I’ve done the usual tricks, I’ve avoided sappy songs, thought of only funny moments (which honestly only makes it worse) and told myself that I’m strong enough to not be reduced to tears.

Such a liar.

Almost eight years have passed since losing my Mom. One word to describe that- unfathomable. We were thick as thieves. We were laugh till you pee your pants friends. We were secret keepers, and stay up past dawn talking gals. 

We were not ready for it to be over. 

God has a plan. I’m not privy to it, therefore I have my days that I ask questions. I have my days that I celebrate her being gone as well, because being here was just too painful for her, and as a bestie, I didn’t want that for her.  So, I carried on.

I had promised her I wouldn’t cry while she was sick- but damn all bet’s were off when she was gone. Pulling myself together wasn’t an option, even the tanqueray and tonic wouldn’t help.

I tried. 

We threw her the best  funeral a gal could ask for- beautiful and genuine. Funny stories filled an overflowing church on the day after Christmas. A testimony to how loved she was/is. 

We picked up her ashes on my birthday, later having pizza and more tanqueray… my sister found the birthday gift she bought me in her closet- I have no idea what it was, I wanted nothing to do with that bright colored paper. 

The void is palpable.

She has had so many Great Grand-babies since she’s been gone. She had only met one, and she was over the moon for her little man. I’d like to think that the ones who came after her departure she also held for awhile, and kissed their heads. They all laugh from their toes like she did, they are making her proud. 

I realized today, when for no good reason, I started to cry, that I never let go.  I have no intentions of starting now.

I sure am missing ya Momma Lady.

With love from this side of heaven.

Till next time- Erin