As part as my life as an empty nester, I am persuing my writing. My goal is to do the whole author thing--agent, editor, publisher, books on the shelf and everything!
So...this weekend I am at a writer's conference. It's my first ever! I went to one writing clinic a few years back. It was tragic! We submitted our first pages and then the speaker taught from the pages.
She used my page.
It wasn't pretty.
Le Sigh.
So, this is good for me. I've been in a few critique groups since then and have really worked on my writing. The critique group I'm in now is really good, so I'm not totally freaked out, waiting to be made an example again. Still, it promises to be a brain-stretching time.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Smack Down
Don't adjust your radio dial...it's time for more of Ed and Jacque's adventures in Empty Nesting!
So, I told you all about the massive mountain of styrofoam. Well, originally we were going to work on the footers and then on the walls. Eventually, we were going to start looking for logs.
Then we got THE CALL. A friend of a friend happens to be a logger and happened to log all winter long in Colorado since there was no snow. As a result he just happened to have tons of logs and a stretch of down time before things get busy once things really warm up. We ended up getting a sweeeet deal on be-a-utiful logs. Ed was able to fly out to Colorado, and with help from our friend, he picked out each and every log.
Then last week the logger loaded them up on two big-ass (technical term) trucks. Now...true confession...they might have been a bit overweight, but they managed to fit everything on the two trucks. And off they headed, 998 miles, to our lot.
Friday I'd got THE other CALL. The one saying, "Okay, we're closing in. Be there around one." I ended up at a random intersection just off the middle of nowhere waiting for the trucks. And waiting, and waiting...
Finally, I got a call. The logger was not happy! Short story long, he took a wrong turn and ended up in the wrong town with cops that were more than happy to check his paperwork (did I mention he had a weight problem). So he called and said he'd been there for an hour and he didn't know what was going to happen and he might get shut down, but he'd let me know more when he knew. I asked if I could do anything to help. He said no.
I sat there for a few minutes and said the heck with it. Best I knew there was a possibility we might loose our logs. I wasn't going down without a fight. I put the Jeep in gear and headed west.
There are two towns next to each other--Fallon and Fernley. I always mix up the two. I thought they got pulled over right after Fallon, after all that's on their route. So I went to Fallon. The whole way I prayed and schemed. What would I say? Should I cry? Should I be soft spoken. Dare I lay in front of the trucks and risk being arrested and thrown into a Mexican jail (well, maybe I didn't go that far, but you get the idea).
I got to Fallon. No truck. I drove through Fallon. No truck. I turned around to head back, wondering where the heck the truck was. Before I left Fallon I stopped for gas. Now remember, I am not in a laid back, happy state of mind at this point. Yes, I was confident God was going to take care of things, but I wasn't sure that didn't involve duking it out with an officer of the law. So back to the gas station...I'm pumping gas and the guy across from me asks, "So are you from Colorado Springs?"
I'm like, "What?? No...why???"
He said, "I saw your bumper sticker" Then I remembered the sticker of where my son goes to school. We talked for about two minutes and it resulted in him asking me to take his phone number because her really, really is interested in fellowship.
Sheesh. I love my life! Only God could figure out how to get me an hour outside of where there is the remotest posibility I'd go so that I could talk to someone with a heart to know God better.
Of course, after that I knew everything would be fine. I met up with the loggers (outside of Fallon) and we settled on meeting the next morning, bright and early. Ed was happy with this since that meant he wouldn't miss all the fun. Oh, and I just misssed the police...which is probably for the best.
So, I told you all about the massive mountain of styrofoam. Well, originally we were going to work on the footers and then on the walls. Eventually, we were going to start looking for logs.
Then we got THE CALL. A friend of a friend happens to be a logger and happened to log all winter long in Colorado since there was no snow. As a result he just happened to have tons of logs and a stretch of down time before things get busy once things really warm up. We ended up getting a sweeeet deal on be-a-utiful logs. Ed was able to fly out to Colorado, and with help from our friend, he picked out each and every log.
Then last week the logger loaded them up on two big-ass (technical term) trucks. Now...true confession...they might have been a bit overweight, but they managed to fit everything on the two trucks. And off they headed, 998 miles, to our lot.
Friday I'd got THE other CALL. The one saying, "Okay, we're closing in. Be there around one." I ended up at a random intersection just off the middle of nowhere waiting for the trucks. And waiting, and waiting...
Finally, I got a call. The logger was not happy! Short story long, he took a wrong turn and ended up in the wrong town with cops that were more than happy to check his paperwork (did I mention he had a weight problem). So he called and said he'd been there for an hour and he didn't know what was going to happen and he might get shut down, but he'd let me know more when he knew. I asked if I could do anything to help. He said no.
I sat there for a few minutes and said the heck with it. Best I knew there was a possibility we might loose our logs. I wasn't going down without a fight. I put the Jeep in gear and headed west.
There are two towns next to each other--Fallon and Fernley. I always mix up the two. I thought they got pulled over right after Fallon, after all that's on their route. So I went to Fallon. The whole way I prayed and schemed. What would I say? Should I cry? Should I be soft spoken. Dare I lay in front of the trucks and risk being arrested and thrown into a Mexican jail (well, maybe I didn't go that far, but you get the idea).
I got to Fallon. No truck. I drove through Fallon. No truck. I turned around to head back, wondering where the heck the truck was. Before I left Fallon I stopped for gas. Now remember, I am not in a laid back, happy state of mind at this point. Yes, I was confident God was going to take care of things, but I wasn't sure that didn't involve duking it out with an officer of the law. So back to the gas station...I'm pumping gas and the guy across from me asks, "So are you from Colorado Springs?"
I'm like, "What?? No...why???"
He said, "I saw your bumper sticker" Then I remembered the sticker of where my son goes to school. We talked for about two minutes and it resulted in him asking me to take his phone number because her really, really is interested in fellowship.
Sheesh. I love my life! Only God could figure out how to get me an hour outside of where there is the remotest posibility I'd go so that I could talk to someone with a heart to know God better.
Of course, after that I knew everything would be fine. I met up with the loggers (outside of Fallon) and we settled on meeting the next morning, bright and early. Ed was happy with this since that meant he wouldn't miss all the fun. Oh, and I just misssed the police...which is probably for the best.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
How long has it been???
Helloooo! I know, I know--it's been FOREVER! Please forgive me. There's been much happening, I'll fill you in bit by bit. I promise!
I've been wrestling styrofoam!
A month ago I checked in with the highway guy that allowed me to take some of the scrap rebar from a job site. He'd told me earlier to go ahead and call me...when I did, because he'd have more that I could take. We'd gotten about 400 feet of the stuff and need at least 1600 feet. Anyhoo, I called him and he informed me he was no longer overseeing the site.
-sob-
I took a deep breath, then asked him who was the site boss, he gave me the name and then said not to tell the new guy I had been there before since the new guy did not like him. Didn't look good.
I decided to stake out the place. So, the next Tuesday morning (my husband advised against Monday, since everyone tends to be crabby on Mondays) I drove to the site about 6 am. There were already workers there! The next car to pull up was the site boss! I talked with him and he was quite nice. He said he would be willing to help, but they didn't have any scrap rebar--some of the guys had hauled away three trailors filled with the stuff to the scrap yard,
-sob-
Another deep breath. I asked about the stack of styrofoam I'd seen (4x4x8 feet). He said I'd have to talk to the concrete guy and gave me his number. I called, explained who I was and the guy offered a pile of rebar he was standing next to. I drove over and got the ok to collect another 600 feet of rebar. Then I asked him about the styrofoam.
I ended up getting the ok to help myself...not to the small pile I'd seen, but to the motherload of all styrofoam. I don't even know how many trips I've taken to the lot with the stuff! I'm attaching a couple pictures, but keep in mind, that was a week or so ago--the pile has grown!
Bottom like--we now have all our insulation needs covered for the cost of hauling the stuff. We're happy and they're happy they don't have to get rid of the stuff! Yeah God!
I've been wrestling styrofoam!
A month ago I checked in with the highway guy that allowed me to take some of the scrap rebar from a job site. He'd told me earlier to go ahead and call me...when I did, because he'd have more that I could take. We'd gotten about 400 feet of the stuff and need at least 1600 feet. Anyhoo, I called him and he informed me he was no longer overseeing the site.
-sob-
I took a deep breath, then asked him who was the site boss, he gave me the name and then said not to tell the new guy I had been there before since the new guy did not like him. Didn't look good.
I decided to stake out the place. So, the next Tuesday morning (my husband advised against Monday, since everyone tends to be crabby on Mondays) I drove to the site about 6 am. There were already workers there! The next car to pull up was the site boss! I talked with him and he was quite nice. He said he would be willing to help, but they didn't have any scrap rebar--some of the guys had hauled away three trailors filled with the stuff to the scrap yard,
-sob-
Another deep breath. I asked about the stack of styrofoam I'd seen (4x4x8 feet). He said I'd have to talk to the concrete guy and gave me his number. I called, explained who I was and the guy offered a pile of rebar he was standing next to. I drove over and got the ok to collect another 600 feet of rebar. Then I asked him about the styrofoam.
I ended up getting the ok to help myself...not to the small pile I'd seen, but to the motherload of all styrofoam. I don't even know how many trips I've taken to the lot with the stuff! I'm attaching a couple pictures, but keep in mind, that was a week or so ago--the pile has grown!
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Parental Funk
Bah! I feel like I got sideswiped.
My daughter came to visit--it was wonderful. We had a great time, but man was it quick. I'd encouraged her to play with friends during at least part of her spring break. After all, it's her senior year. She took us up on the offer and is now somewhere in Pennsylvania playing with friends.
My son is starting his spring break with friends, and then he'll grace us with his company for six days. He is due to arrive Monday.
So here I am, between kids. And I'm really in a funk. I guess it's really starting to sink in that the whole kid-era is pretty well done. Allison will be here this summer, but then she's off. David...well, I can look forward to bits and pieces, that's all.
Problem is, I really like the little buggers.
My daughter came to visit--it was wonderful. We had a great time, but man was it quick. I'd encouraged her to play with friends during at least part of her spring break. After all, it's her senior year. She took us up on the offer and is now somewhere in Pennsylvania playing with friends.
My son is starting his spring break with friends, and then he'll grace us with his company for six days. He is due to arrive Monday.
So here I am, between kids. And I'm really in a funk. I guess it's really starting to sink in that the whole kid-era is pretty well done. Allison will be here this summer, but then she's off. David...well, I can look forward to bits and pieces, that's all.
Problem is, I really like the little buggers.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
I Love My Life!
So yesterday I had to pick up our broken car from the mechanic...which happens to be on the other side of the city.
I got there first thing in the morning and picked up the keys, hopped in the car and took off. This was a good thing, since the car is having serious transmission problems. I'd plotted a route the backway home, just in case I ran into problems.
About a mile later I ran into problems. The stupid thing came totally out of gear, wouldn't go back, either. I coasted as long as possible and then pulled over, put the flashers on and turned the car off. I tried to call a friend who knows a towtruck guy, but he didn't pick up.
Ok...
I decided I didn't want to mess with a tow truck, I wanted to get home under my own steam. I started the car and put it in gear. It worked! For about half a mile.
The rest of the way home I went through the same process (without the calling-for-a-tow-truck part) over and over again. Each time the distance shrunk.
Closing in on home, I hit a downhill section of the road that had no traffic. I took the opportunity to put a little back behind the project. So as I walked beside my car, steering with my right hand and pushing with my left. A car pulled up next to me and a very nice man asked if I everything was okay and did I need any help.
I couldn't resist!
"Nope, just taking my car for a walk!"
Wahahaha! I love my life. I eventually made it home--victorious.
Things aren't always as easy as we might like. But sometimes there are great moments within the challenges that make it all worthwhile
I got there first thing in the morning and picked up the keys, hopped in the car and took off. This was a good thing, since the car is having serious transmission problems. I'd plotted a route the backway home, just in case I ran into problems.
About a mile later I ran into problems. The stupid thing came totally out of gear, wouldn't go back, either. I coasted as long as possible and then pulled over, put the flashers on and turned the car off. I tried to call a friend who knows a towtruck guy, but he didn't pick up.
Ok...
I decided I didn't want to mess with a tow truck, I wanted to get home under my own steam. I started the car and put it in gear. It worked! For about half a mile.
The rest of the way home I went through the same process (without the calling-for-a-tow-truck part) over and over again. Each time the distance shrunk.
Closing in on home, I hit a downhill section of the road that had no traffic. I took the opportunity to put a little back behind the project. So as I walked beside my car, steering with my right hand and pushing with my left. A car pulled up next to me and a very nice man asked if I everything was okay and did I need any help.
I couldn't resist!
"Nope, just taking my car for a walk!"
Wahahaha! I love my life. I eventually made it home--victorious.
Things aren't always as easy as we might like. But sometimes there are great moments within the challenges that make it all worthwhile
Friday, March 9, 2012
Count it all Joy--Damn It!
Have you ever been in the the middle of a curveball? You know, the kind life throws. That happened to my husband and I last weekend.
A few weeks back I noticed our car wasn't shifting right, there was a bit of a hesitation. So I took it into the shop. They looked at it, scratched their heads and stuck the car on a computer, "It'll tell us what's wrong." The computer spit out some codes and the mechanics scratched their headsa while longer. They didn't recognize the codes. Their solution: reset the computer in the car.
Yeah right, I thought, And I drove off in a car that was no longer acting up. Obviously, I'm no mechanic, they must have known what they're doing. However, they did tell me to check back in a week or so to see if any of the codes came back. I waited three weeks, till right before we were going on a 500 mile trip.
This time the mechanics took my car right in and hooked it up to the computer. Apparently, the computer gave our car a big thumbs up. So did the mechanics. So my husband and I drove down to Southern California.
Le Sigh.
This is when the curveball came into play. We got to our conference fine. Had a great time. Then we went out to lunch with friends. I noticed that the car wasn't shifting right. So we ignored it and went for a hike. The ride home from the hike was very different. It was not only obvious to me and my husband, but also to everyone that passed us on the highway that something was very wrong with our car.
Did I mention 500 miles?
Add to that Saturday night, with plans to drive home the next afternoon. To make a long story, well, still long, we rented a truck with a car carrier. Woohoo, driving in our empty truck back home. We made it just a few hours later than we'd originally planned. Victory.
Brought the car to the mechanics the next day, hopping mad. They scratched their head and kept the car for the week. Finally, they called and said (I'm not kidding), "You got something wrong with the transmission." Then they let me know they don't fix transmissions! <head slap>
But you know, through the whole thing my husband and I have laughed lots. We're not letting it bug us. What's the point? We know things will work out, we just need to keep moving forward. Sure, did I get cranky with the mechanic? Yes. I don't think they handled our car right, I wanted them to do something to make it right. They didn't--oh well.
My point in all this is, it's my choice. I can decide to let a stupid car or stupid mechanic ruin my day or even my week. Or, I can decide NOT to let stuff like this get under my skin. I'll take door number two. Life's too short for cranky.
Oh, and by the way, does anyone want to buy a car?
A few weeks back I noticed our car wasn't shifting right, there was a bit of a hesitation. So I took it into the shop. They looked at it, scratched their heads and stuck the car on a computer, "It'll tell us what's wrong." The computer spit out some codes and the mechanics scratched their headsa while longer. They didn't recognize the codes. Their solution: reset the computer in the car.
Yeah right, I thought, And I drove off in a car that was no longer acting up. Obviously, I'm no mechanic, they must have known what they're doing. However, they did tell me to check back in a week or so to see if any of the codes came back. I waited three weeks, till right before we were going on a 500 mile trip.
This time the mechanics took my car right in and hooked it up to the computer. Apparently, the computer gave our car a big thumbs up. So did the mechanics. So my husband and I drove down to Southern California.
Le Sigh.
This is when the curveball came into play. We got to our conference fine. Had a great time. Then we went out to lunch with friends. I noticed that the car wasn't shifting right. So we ignored it and went for a hike. The ride home from the hike was very different. It was not only obvious to me and my husband, but also to everyone that passed us on the highway that something was very wrong with our car.
Did I mention 500 miles?
Add to that Saturday night, with plans to drive home the next afternoon. To make a long story, well, still long, we rented a truck with a car carrier. Woohoo, driving in our empty truck back home. We made it just a few hours later than we'd originally planned. Victory.
Brought the car to the mechanics the next day, hopping mad. They scratched their head and kept the car for the week. Finally, they called and said (I'm not kidding), "You got something wrong with the transmission." Then they let me know they don't fix transmissions! <head slap>
But you know, through the whole thing my husband and I have laughed lots. We're not letting it bug us. What's the point? We know things will work out, we just need to keep moving forward. Sure, did I get cranky with the mechanic? Yes. I don't think they handled our car right, I wanted them to do something to make it right. They didn't--oh well.
My point in all this is, it's my choice. I can decide to let a stupid car or stupid mechanic ruin my day or even my week. Or, I can decide NOT to let stuff like this get under my skin. I'll take door number two. Life's too short for cranky.
Oh, and by the way, does anyone want to buy a car?
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Good Day!
It figures I was just talking about my son...
Today was one of those days where he was into talking. Today is a good day!
I am amazed by how important my children are to me. Both of them are part of my own soul. Please don't get me wrong, I am enjoying my empynester freedom. Still, when I have the opportunity to spend time with the offspring, my heart sings.
Before they were born, I worried about if I would be able to love them. Ha! Turned out to not be a problem. I think certain things are ingrained into our being. Evolutionists would call it a measure to insure the continuation of a species.
How lame is that?
God designed us. He set up a family relationship, and He did it so that we could understand His love for us. Think about what He calls himself--our Father. He calls us his sons. One of the Greek words for "son" is teknon, which means beloved child. When I was younger I thought I knew what that ment. Then I had children, and an awareness of this specific truth continues to gel within my heart as I experience firsthand the love of a parent for their child.
It also helps me not feel like a total mush. If God Almighty can yearn for our fellowship, I guess I can do the same with my kids!
Today was one of those days where he was into talking. Today is a good day!
I am amazed by how important my children are to me. Both of them are part of my own soul. Please don't get me wrong, I am enjoying my empynester freedom. Still, when I have the opportunity to spend time with the offspring, my heart sings.
Before they were born, I worried about if I would be able to love them. Ha! Turned out to not be a problem. I think certain things are ingrained into our being. Evolutionists would call it a measure to insure the continuation of a species.
How lame is that?
God designed us. He set up a family relationship, and He did it so that we could understand His love for us. Think about what He calls himself--our Father. He calls us his sons. One of the Greek words for "son" is teknon, which means beloved child. When I was younger I thought I knew what that ment. Then I had children, and an awareness of this specific truth continues to gel within my heart as I experience firsthand the love of a parent for their child.
It also helps me not feel like a total mush. If God Almighty can yearn for our fellowship, I guess I can do the same with my kids!
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