Category: One piece at a time

When was the last time you wrote a love letter? 
The craft of writing your feelings out and following through on the delivery of your inner most thoughts is a dwindling practice. Folks don’t rush to their mailboxes hoping to find their names on an addressed envelope these days. One hundred years from now nobody will stumble across a treasure trove of letters that their grandparents wrote between one another- the future generations may never know how and why a couple stayed together over struggle or shared their fears…heartbreaking.

I’ve come to realize that most of my prized possessions are heartfelt words. I still have a few cards from years gone by, but mostly I love the messages that are thought out by the sender themself.  Sometimes Hallmark just doesn’t hit the mark. 

Thinking back, this love has evolved over a long period of time. As a child, my sister and I would walk to the local Hallmark store, we would spend forever looking at all the stationary sets, Snoopy, Holly Hobby, flowers, hearts, stars… they were endless. On one trip we bought ourselves wax sticks that you could light and let the wax drip onto your envelope – the wax sticks came with a metal seal and we could choose our design. We literally wrote letters to everyone we had know back in Illinois just to use these sticks. My love of letter writing was born. 
I kept in touch with friends who I had moved away from (dig deep and think back pre home computer, pre Internet) I’ve had friendships that have lasted my entire life because of the written word. It was just how you stayed in touch back then, and I’ve never really changed my ways.

 Later in life, my husband, then fiancé would write letters from boot camp, and I had vowed to write him every day. I believe I actually did- sometimes more than once. The letters I got from him still sit in my bedroom almost thirty five years later. They are in the same shoe box that they’ve always been in. I’m a sucker for nostalgia remember! 
I suppose I should go through them and put a few in frames- it might be fun to see them out. 

I have three framed letters on display at my house, one was written to my Mom from my husbands great Aunt. Nothing particularly “special” about it which to me makes it priceless. Her mention of my kids who ADORED her and she them. I found a way to fancy it up a bit years ago and framed it. My daughter was almost four, she’s now twenty seven. The test of time.  

Another is a typewritten letter from my sister in law who reached out to me awhile after my mom passed away. She sent me a beautiful note about God noticing the tears we shed and sent along a glass bottle. Since  the arrival of my Grandbabies the bottle has been put up, but the letter remains framed in my dining room.  

Last but certainly not least, a note my mom sent me during her cancer struggle. She was a strong, private woman who always told you how much she loved you, and now that she’s not here I get to see this framed message every day and be reminded of her love. 

I must say, I’m pretty dang good at reaching out. I love to send my Grandkids letters and I still write my husband letters. Sometimes silly ones that I’ll pin up in the medicine cabinet…sometimes serious ones about life and it’s struggles. These will someday be part of our story. 
So, in my pursuit of a passion filled life I’m reminded that it matters. It matters that the mailbox is sometimes filled with love~ not just bills. It matters that when someone is having a hard day you took the time to write an encouraging note. It matters that others feel your love for them in this moment in time when feelings are usually only electronically expressed. 
Generations from now your Great Grandkids will not be seeing your IM or your Snapchat. They will not know that you had triumphs and troubles that you reached out about.  They won’t know that the Grandma with the white hair and strict rules was once a romantic who dreamed of running away and living with Papa in a cabin by a stream and that he liked that idea too.      

  Let them find that out, give them something to discover. 
Today my friend, in an effort to stay connected and to show your love for your family do yourself and them a favor…Write a love letter.

Till next time- Erin

Sometimes first guesses are correct. I had a middle school teacher who used to say  “If you don’t know the answer, go with your first guess, it’s usually right.”
When starting this blog I was going to be me searching for what it was that would fulfill my soul. Because I was raised in a household where you worked and worked I had gone in my mind to all the businesses I’d love to try. The list is like rifle shot- scattered.
I’d love to own a candy shop/ bakery with my Grandkids someday. We’ve named it, spent hours talking about it and saved hundreds of  photos of things we must learn to make. Then there’s a horse trailer turned into a bar, building a retreat, possibly running a tree house rental, etc, etc- rifle shot remember. 
Here’s the thing, once the blog was up and running I realized that writing was the true passion and I began to share some stories, most can tie back to passion (much like a Seinfeld episode it all comes back around) but some you’ve all been gracious enough to just read and let it be about the love of the story. 
So… enough about all that- today we are doubling back to the original idea. Showcase some passions. 
Todays passion: Baking/Memories  These are my Cream-puffs~ the recipe my Mom used my whole life. Yesterday I spent the day baking because tonight is my son’s wedding rehearsal dinner and these babies are dessert! 

If you don’t want to read on and see the work in progress here’s the recipe- they are promised to make your house smell heavenly! 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (I usually triple this recipe because I make my cream puffs BIG, and they always get eaten) 
1 cup water. 1 stick butter 1 cup flour 1 tsp vanilla.  4 medium eggs Tub of cool whip. 1 cup Powdered sugar. Cooking at 350 45 min -1hr
Boil water and butter~ once boiled add your cup of flour directly to the pot and mix quickly till it forms a ball/remove from heat. Add vanilla (I add extra because I love it but you do you) Your dough is now done time for eggs! Add one egg at a time stirring fully. 
That’s it!  You’re done with the hard part! 
Put on a cookie sheet in large drop fashion. I use a giant table spoon size scoop. You’ll bake these for 45 min-1 hr. I allow mine to cool on a rack when done then put them in an airtight container if I’m not serving right away- Once the Puff is cooked and cooled you’ll cut the top off evenly, scoop out all the soft dough from the lid and from inside the puff- fill with Cool whip (never use the stuff in the can, the filling will turn liquid on you)  Refrigerate until you’re ready to serve. 
Put a cup of powdered sugar in a small handheld sifter and generously sprinkle it over Puffs just before serving! Beautiful and delicious. 

So, here I am the day before my son gets married. I don’t know where the time has gone but I know I am blessed to be in this day. I know that I am missing my Momma being here to celebrate~ giving her a shout out with making her yummy treats. Maybe someday these treats can be served in my sweet shop. My hope is the recipe will be passed on to my kids and Grandkids, and that perhaps they’ll always be made on special occasions, and reflection will take place. 

I promise no tears fell in the dough, but I promise they were shed. 

Till next time- Erin 

Yeah!! It’s week five!

Welcome back all you passion seekers! I sure hope you’ve been able to stay on track saving coins, dollars whatever you had to save to reach your one hundred dollar goal!

As I mentioned last week, I finished up early. That had not been the plan but at some point you look around and exhale and realize you’ve got what you need. All in all I came in with a total of about ninety one dollars. By the time I threw in a candle and added in my rug which I don’t believe I mentioned ran me twenty four dollars. I’ve since taken away one of the storage boxes that sat atop my desk and I’ve added in a ceramic tile hand painted by my daughter when she was a child. This add was kind of a must as my Grandkids kept getting into it where it was and I was afraid of it cracking. I think it’s only fitting that my “Mom” tile resides on my desk. Motherhood has been my favorite roll ever. You’ll also notice a wooden sign given to me by my cousins daughter who I love, I wanted it displayed for me and for her, and for all who enter my house~ a little touch of fun!

I should also mention I did not buy the office chair, I stole it from work…It’s okay, I know the boss and he kind of loves me (how blessed is this girl?!?!) I haven’t really been back to work since my heart gave me trouble in March, let’s just say my husband and son have been picking up my slack and I fill in when I can. After I get my next procedure done, I’ll be staying home to babysit my two youngest Grand babies while the adults go to work, an honor I can’t put into words.

So what’s it gonna be, what are you going to put your one hundred dollars towards?

If you never take the first step, you’ll never get there. I’ve said it before but it bares repeating that you can do this and more than that you deserve a life where you wake up feeling excited about being alive. If you didn’t save money over the five weeks, a new month starts tomorrow and a new day is just hours away!! Renew yourself. Renew your spirit, renew your purpose and put yourself first.

With the traveling I’ve been doing lately I’m reminded that when the cabin pressure drops in a plane, you’re told to secure your mask first in order to be helpful to others. Help yourself!

Make it soon!

Till next time~ Erin

Week four is here, how are you doing with saving?
I must say that I’m already done shopping! Ahead of schedule and under budget (can you tell I get a bit impatient) but here’s why.. it’s my writing area!

I’ve wanted one for years and didn’t pursuit it- ya know why? I would have actually had to acknowledge that I had been putting my dreams last. I would have had to make some real changes in the household dynamic, and honestly I don’t think I was ready.

I have my comfort zone, my zone is nice and safe, all the people in my zone know me, I know myself there. I know what my roll as a Wife, Mom, Mother in law and Grandma is, and to shake that up for me was scary and made me anxious. But, than a switch flipped. It really did. I felt suddenly empowered to take on a blog (WOW, was that a misguided power) suddenly I really didn’t care who approved- that’s not to say I don’t care what I post- I post with all my heart, and I throw in a dash of vulnerability, but I did myself a favor and put a post it note next to my desk with these two words “Personal blog.” That was it. Two words to keep it in perspective. I reminded myself that I was doing this for ME to fill my soul, and sure I want you to come along on the journey with me and find your passion~but if you choose not to, I understand that my pursuit of a passion filled life doesn’t cross over into your pursuit, and that’s ok.

…back to the challenge. It’s week four and I’m done. I wasn’t in need of the extra week to save more money as there is nothing else I need for my space. My old dresser has been moved and the old garden gate will have to await a new home~ I love my space.

I rounded out my purchases with a new mouse and mouse pad. I’m actually not a big fan of pink, but I wanted the writing area to shout that it was girlie and by that I mean mine– so I went with pink. I found a white fuzzy rug- a bit small but doable and I searched down a candle with a yummy scent.

So, here it is, home of “The last piece of pie” brings a tear to the eye! 💜

Where are you in this pursuit?
Have you figured it out yet?
What can you put one hundred dollars towards that will ignite your passion and push you to follow your dreams?

Till next time-
Erin

If I had to count the number of times I’ve cried in the shower… I couldn’t. 

I had that thought the other day as someone mentioned to me how strong I was.          Don’t get me wrong I’m a strong woman, of this I’m sure- but even in my certainty of strength, I’m reminded that sadly I have no super human powers. I am not able to leap tall troubles in a single bound, and nothing happens when I yell the word Shazam. 

So, from time to time, I take refuge in the shower. 

While traveling in Texas years ago, I sadly witnessed a woman get killed on the highway. It was raining, and every car on the road had their windows tightly rolled up, yet when her car lost control and was hit broadside by a bus that tore it in two…you could hear the screams of all the other drivers. I’m certain they could here mine as well. Hours later when I arrived at the hotel which had been our destination- I burst into tears telling my folks the story.  A few hours later, after over serving myself some gin and tonics, I sat in the shower crying and eating a snickers bar I had so pathetically begged  my husband to buy out of the vending machine… but that was a very unique circumstance. Those were not the tears of the every day worn down, mentally exhausted woman.

The every day worn down woman is outwardly strong. She’s working, keeping a clean house, keeping her children somewhat in order, and most times either juggling aging parents, a boyfriend, husband or a boss that have their own demands on her time and energy. 

The every day worn down woman, cries alone.   The “strong” women cry alone.

I think out of a need to feel in control, we don’t have our breakdowns in the the public eye. Instead we let our tears merge with the shower suds to go down the drain together.  We emerge back into public looking polished up like old copper.

Nobody is always strong.

Nobody is always strong.

A handful of years ago I had a surgery that went wrong, before I knew it I was the not so proud owner of a colostomy bag, a tired body and a bruised soul. Ive been told I handled it all like a champ, like the good strong girl I’ve always been. I broke down the first night home with my husband and kids despite their best efforts to distract me by playing old Saturday night live skits on YouTube.  After that night, I kept the tears to myself. 

I was “strong.”

It wasn’t until recently, while talking with the husband of one of my best friends that he mentioned his wife, this gal I love, takes refuge in the shower and cries out the days pain. I felt a pit in my stomach over his words, over this practice of crying alone. 

The sympathy I couldn’t muster for myself, I longed for her to have. 

Why do we not allow ourselves the comfort of company when we’re so low? 

Why do we need to cry in the privacy, and emptiness of our bathroom shower?

These are the things I think about, these are things I feel when I want what’s best for those I love. I just need to remember that the list of  people I love, needs to include myself. 

Till next time- Erin 

Recently I spent the afternoon making sock clothes for Barbie Dolls. Making sock clothes is a practice that came from my childhood- then moved up to when I myself was a mom and my daughter and I would rifle through the dreaded mismatched sock basket for something fun enough to turn into clothes. Now, her daughter and I assemble a handful of dolls, and also gather old socks (all these years later, it’s fun that the socks are nearly all colorful and with artwork)

They may have all started out life as a “Barbie” but they are so much more now.
We have the usual three names right out of the gate, Lucy (of course), Cindy and Betsy. The others we try to name but she’s always stuck on these three and eventually naming the rest isn’t important enough for us to worry about.

I’ve often wondered why there’s so much controversy about Barbie. I grew up with loads of Barbie dolls (they say the average girl has a dozen, I believe that to be a low estimate) I did not grow up believing my waist would be disproportionality small or my chest perky and big- I just wanted to play! I think back, and I don’t recall my Barbies coming with pre assigned jobs, although it’s possible they did. If so, that pre assigned job listed on the box would have gone in the trash with the twist ties and cardboard. I probably made them mostly Mommies~ unapologetically.

I guess my dreams were suppose to be Astronaut by day, flamingo dancer by night.
But they weren’t. I think that the sock clothes maybe put it all in perspective. I can’t be sure but my Barbie (who was probably named Kacie…my equivalent of Lucy) was busy hunting for the perfect sock’s to upscale into a posh jumper, a three holed shirt, or If I found an old tube sock of my brothers that wasn’t a dingy mess, a long gown. Kacie wasn’t too worried that the other girls at the party had on the latest colorful gown that Mattel put out- my Kacie, she was sensible and fun. Unique in her quirkiness, she entered every party confident in her sock wrap designs.

I’ll bet that she pursued her passions- she went on to have a house full of kids, she continued with her frugality and made sock clothes for each of them. She met Skipper for coffee or a margarita a couple times a week, she was a good neighbor and a good friend.

So this practice of sock clothes served me well. It served my daughter well, and it’s serving my granddaughter well. We discuss the up-cycle angle and the fact that we are saving a lot of money by not running out to buy new clothes. She has taken it a step further (because my Grandchildren are above average) and has figured out how to create shoes and handbags~ Not once during our clothes making did I get the impression that she will have a damaged outlook on herself. Never does she mention wanting to look just like them, only that designing clothes is fun and later that she might want to have whatever job it is that you can lay on the board with wheels and go under cars. I tell her that’s called a mechanic, and they work on cars. She smiles broadly, shaking her head yes.

The world is her oyster.

Till next time- Erin

Week three of the one hundred dollar challenge?
How are you doing?
If you’re new to the blog, know this…My posts go in order of publish date-so go ahead and seek out part one and two~ or read all the posts and hopefully enjoy getting to know me and my passion. You can double back to the rest of week three right here when you’re done.
Are ya saving money, or still making excuses?
Have you had it to save or have you made arrangements to earn the extra? Hopefully you’re moving forward, after all the rest of the world is not working to fulfill your passion.

Since last week I haven’t had to purchase much to add to my writing area. I’m keeping my eye out for a rug, and in the interest of saving money I have dug up an old desktop computer to use! Just like that, no money spent on a used laptop!

I did get a great deal on a clearance lamp at Lowe’s. Always the bargain shopper~ gotta love those yellow tags.
I love the lamp and it’s great for those three a.m. writing sessions because I’m not kicking on the overhead lights in the living room, waking up the rest of the house.

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I’ve decided to relocate an old dresser I use for storage, and I’ll take down my repurposed old garden fence to open up space to hang my artwork from last weeks post. So the vision will surely come to life by week five.

Change is still being saved, and dreams are moving forward
If you’re stuck, push through… think hard about why you’re letting your passion go unfulfilled. For me it was the idea that something I would be spending a chunk of time on would be for self fulfilling reasons. That seemed to indulgent. It wasn’t going to bring in money, and therefore felt wasteful. I quickly found out that time doing what fills your soul with joy is never wasted.

So I write.

Than, when I’m feeling selfish or wasteful, I write some more.

Till next time- Erin

Six a.m. and I’m already at the second airport of the day. Not a usual start to the day for this homebody. Here I am at O’Hare, if I were traveling with my Grandma Beer she’d ask “Where are they hanging the meat?” My last minute decision to grab my “Grandma” sweatshirt was the best decision I’ve made since throwing out the borderline chicken in the fridge. It’s freezing in here, or maybe it’s the blood thinners talking? Either way, I’m hunkered down wishing I had a blanket.

My hunt for the nearest Dunkin’ was a flop~ I could see it from the seat on my plane while we made our way to our gate but spent two thousand steps looking for it. My lack of sleep will kick my ass later today and coffee, as always is a must! Found a McDonalds, and thankfully the line was a mile long…us humans (sigh) a million choices but we are creatures of habit. My lack of patience leads me to a cafe with Spanish tacos, red roasted salsa and coffee! Worth the twelve bucks they are asking.
Thank you Chicago!

I spent a lot of sleepless time thinking about my blog last night- it was the chicken or the egg effect… could I not sleep because I was thinking about the blog, or did thinking about the blog make me not sleep? Either way, I am surprised by the path it has taken so far- I thought right out of the gate I would be trying out different jobs and business ideas, and I still want to do that. Passing a horse trailer daily that I talk about turning into a bar, redesigning the local ice cream shop in my head for the millionth time readying myself for the day it goes for sale and I can buy it- looking to do more baking and creating this winter… but for now, I hope you’ll stick with me while I tell some stories. While I reminisce out loud.

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I’m surprised that so many of my stories include my mom, and more than that is the fact that they are serious. With a name like “The last piece of pie” you know I thought the posts would be more humorous. Ya just don’t know till you begin to write. All I do know is that gratitude and calmness play a bigger roll in my life since I’ve been focused on my passion. So maybe just maybe the universe is telling me something.

Just this morning before my flight I looked around and thought “How many of these people are traveling and taking time away from their family for a job they hate?” Then I was seated next to a great gal who talked about how much she hates traveling and that leaving her three kids had her thinking about life changes every day. Food for thought, if your morning starts out with doom, and dread for the day- that’s your sign.

Adjust your life, make some changes.

It will be like a Buffett song and your changes in latitude will be your changes in attitude.

Till next time- Erin

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