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!
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