Who Am I?

Twenty six years ago, in 1988, I wrote/compiled a book for and about my family as a gift to them titled “Heart of One”.  I was 27 at the time, around half the age I am now.  The book was a blend of family history, stories and individual profiles of my parents and their five children. 

Just before the end of the book, I devoted a single page to each person, giving myself the freedom to mix what others had written and my impressions of them as well.  I picked a poem for each person I felt best described them.

I pull “Heart of One” out every now and then and read it.  I’m warmed by the memories it evokes and always a little surprised at how my feelings about stories and events evolve over the years.  I’m struck by both the clarity and obscured vision I had of my family members, and myself.

My page started with:

Her most precious possession was a magic box

that she kept hidden in a very secret place.

And whenever she wanted, she would unlock her magic box,

and out would fly all her favorite thoughts ~

Beautiful thoughts like the colors of a sunset

or the gentle flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

For 51 years, I've tended that magic box.  It holds all the slivered pieces of “Who I Am”.  Daughter, Sister, Friend, Wife, Mother, Gatekeeper and Writer.  I’m not the blindingly faithful (or naive) person I was then.  Now, when I ever so gently lift the lid (usually to engage in a writing piece) I don’t only see those favorite thoughts that mirror sunsets and butterflies.  I see a life balanced with joy and pain.  One that holds love and sorrow and surely more blessings than I deserve. 

A magic box indeed.  A place to safely cradle the pieces of who I am, the stories that got me there and the threads of where I’m headed.

                                                                        ###

This is in response to the “Who Am I” prompt from “The Blogging Lounge”.

2014 - Make It So

“Writing is not life, but I think that sometimes it can be a way back to life.”

     -Stephen King, On Writing

I’ve been silent on this blog for 158 days.  On the two year anniversary of “My Writing Corner” I admit that’s not a good thing.  However, in being true to its tagline of it being “A place to share my writing, the process of doing so and the part of me that it comes from”, I apologize for the silence and move forward into 2014 with a renewed commitment. 

Two years ago today I started out with the dream of beginning a blog, “ready to take the plunge and open myself up to sharing my writing…to hone my skills as a writer, dedicate myself to the craft of writing more and see where this adventure takes me.”

I had 67 posts in 2012 and found myself sharing not only my fiction, but surprisingly, different parts of my life as well.  It was an unbelievably productive writing time with the frosting on the cake being a published piece in Chicken Soup for the Soul: finding my faith. 

2013 began with a blog about my “growth as an artist as well as a writer” – heady stuff.  I started the year with I Should Be Writing BootCamp with Lisa Romeo (worth every penny, educational and inspiring!) I submitted a handful of pieces to different places and yes, received a couple rejections, but also had a My View published in the Buffalo News and an essay accepted on the “this I believe” website.  I wrote the 17^th blog post for the year on July 27^th and stopped.

I know from past experience that I don’t just stop writing for no reason.   And although there were numerous ones, in part, depression, like it or not, is part of where my writing comes from.  Sometimes I am able to write through it and other times, like the past five months, it numbs me and nothing makes the passage from my thoughts to the paper.   I’m fortunate to have good people in my life who help me through these times and thankfully, am starting 2014 from a better place. 

I am pleased that I did manage to write one piece in the past five months about a lesson learned from my mom, and got it submitted by the November deadline to Chicken Soup for the Soul for an upcoming book on traumatic brain injuries (I have not heard anything back yet.) 

I’m not sure what direction my writing will take this year, but feel ready for the glide of the pencil of paper and the tapping of my fingertips on the keyboard. It is with thanks to my husband Steven, son Abram, sister Darcey and longtime writing friend Elaine Kehoe of the blog, Tea Leaves for the love, guidance and gentle nudges that have helped make it so. 

Route 66 baby ~ DYNAMICS OF “LIFE IN THE CAR” (A blog series of our two week adventure!)

We love road trips. 

Our "Constant"

We embrace them, often choosing to drive to our vacation destination over flying.  We traveled often with Abram when he was younger – trips that included car games, laughter and good conversations with a noted absence of DVD players or earplugs.  The time together is the point of the drive.  Besides the destination of where we’re headed, the car time is a little separate vacation within a vacation. 

Route 66 was a stand-out.  This was the first time the drive was the focal point of the trip and for two weeks no less.  The dynamics changed a bit when the car became the only constant on the trip.

Coolest McD's on the trip!

First dynamic? Coffee and Tea.  As much as we wanted to stay true to local diners (more about these in another post) this was one necessity we quickly addressed.   Tea for me was no problem - vacation or not, I carry my own 24/7 because I prefer Bigelow Constant Comment.  So, a little hot water and I’m good to go (add a little Sugar in the Raw, which I also carry, and I’m extra happy).  Steve however was at the mercy of the local diner coffee gods – and they weren’t too kind this trip.  Enter…McDonald’s a couple times a day for a good, consistent cup of brew that Steve enjoys.      

We switched on & off driving and the person riding shotgun this trip definitely carried the title of Car Concierge.  From that seat you ran the inner working of the car and believe me, it’s no fluff job.  It’s total control of all zones in the car other than the driver’s seat.  This includes:

• Passenger side foot area –Amy’s purse, various tourist publications for the current state, three ring binder with maps, travel journal and garbage collection bag
• Glove compartment – receipts, snack items, napkins and utensils (getting this all in around that pesky car manual is no easy fete!)
• Center console – keeper of glasses, sunglasses, iPod, and the occasional stray map or two
• Dashboard – useful for heating leftovers, warming cookies to that “just out of the oven softness” and of course on this trip, monitoring Wilson (our Ore-Ida smiley French fry – more about HIM in a later post)
• Back seat - case of water, snacks, picnic/hiking backpack, pillows, and cooler filled with individual packets of peanut butter and jelly, butter and cream cheese from the hotel breakfast bar, leftovers from the previous days lunch or dinner, and the stray candy bar or two.  (Each morning at the hotel we’d fill a couple of gallon Ziploc bags with ice for the cooler.  Worked like a charm!)

More about this meal in another post!

As Car Concierge, you juggle the planning and execution of all beverages, meals and snacks, including dashboard reheats (complete with makeshift foil “oven”), navigational devices, maps, iPod and music stations, glasses and sunglasses,  pictures of passing sights, pillow placements for weary arms and tender elbows  and of course, note taking (I’m a writer – of course there’s always a running travel journal!)

Oldest DQ we could find!

We love to snack and that pastime definitely rose to a whole new level on this trip.  Our McDonald’s stops generally vetted a couple cookies or a pie or two for the glove compartment.  There were stops at Dairy Queen or Sonic, nearly every day.  Not something we do at home, where an ice cream stop is a once a month treat!

Passing thousands of miles through farm and agriculture country each day found each of us casually remarking  “you’ve got cows” and the inevitable “lost your cows” when a grave yard was passed.  We didn’t bother keeping count, it was just enough to know whether you had some or not. A silly road trip game that stuck; even with a couple of 50 year olds.  At times there was a stray horse or two thrown in and one time Steve even got credit for a few Gazelles! 

Gas stops fell into an easy routine of Steve at the pump while I cleaned the window with the squeegee – something I never do at home.  I’m not one to pass up a restroom opportunity, so we generally went into each store and then stocked up on glove compartment and backseat snacks while the opportunity presented itself!  One store had a particularly busy, albeit shady transaction being done in the front row of the parking lot that ended when the plain clothes cop finished his shopping, went over and shooed them off the property. 

The luxury of time, two whole weeks, afforded plenty of long, companionable silences and plenty of great extended conversations. There were no interruptions, no residual irritations about a work issue from earlier in the day, no deadlines of heading out to a meeting or obligation to be somewhere.  I loved that there was a particular stock Steve was watching during the trip and over the course of a few days he taught me about what it means to short a stock, how it works and how it affects the market.   We chatted about family histories, world events, places we’d just visited, Route 66 facts, retiring and writing plots.  Often he had me laughing until I cried.  Some days we made note at the top of the travel journal page of items to look up on the internet that night.   (I’m talking really important stuff like…How long ago did George Carlin die? T. Boone Pickens and his view of windmills and the Ghia automobile.)

When we planned the trip, partially as a 30^th wedding anniversary gift to each other, I honestly hadn’t given much thought to all the car time we were going to have.  It certainly took on a life of its own as we got rolling.  Sure, we could have gotten in and just driven.  But we took it to the next level.  It was fun and adventurous.  Hence, neither of us had a moment where we dreaded having to get back in the car again.  Yes, it was our constant – a source of good food, good conversation and good times.  It’s nice to know that after two weeks in the car, I’m ready to hit the road again with this man for the next thirty years and beyond.

Next up... "Oh, The Places We've Seen!"  Join me, won't you?

How Does My Garden Grow?

                     Pallet Garden

With thoughts of harvest

I turn once more to gardening, in pallets

of all things.  So small and manageable

as my hands spread  dirt

in neat rows between wooden slats.

Seeds of herbs and vegetables nestle in, bide their time,

while water and sun nurture small shoots.

Soon the small corner of the yard

fulfills that pull of nature.

The ripe joy of freshness, just born,

picked moments before gracing the table.

Sating a desire – providing sustenance

for the body, yes, but more the soul.

The idea of a pallet garden this summer sprang from a random glance on Pinterest which produced an immediate spark to have a garden again, without the work of having the large 12 x 12 raised bed garden that used to sit where the new two car garage now rests. 

http://gilannie-goddess.blogspot.com/2012/04/my-new-pallet-garden.html

I mentioned it to Steve who just happened to know where to get me a couple of pallets and my spark was on its way to becoming reality.  It’s a fairly simple process, and there are quite a few websites (best so far) I’ve found to help me along with suggestions like making sure the pallets are heated treated wood, how much soil it will take, watering tips and of course  the best vegetables for this type of growing venue.  A quick Google image search gave me the idea of adding another pallet vertically just for herbs and maybe a few strawberry plants for good measure!

And already what’s grown?  A poem!  It’s been a long time since I’ve written a poem and don’t even know how to begin apologizing for its form or meter or lack of thereof.  (Let’s just call it free verse and leave it at that.)

So how does a poem grow from my pallet garden? I can thank an online writing course I started on a whim last evening.  One of the exercises was to explore whether I prefer to write poetry or prose. Since I haven’t written any poetry for a very long time, I was surprised the above verse came so quickly.  It was a nice reminder that I enjoy writing poetry too.  And, the exercise helped me process this blog post as well that was at the idea stage but hadn’t been started yet. 

So already, my pallet garden has provided a lovely mix of passions, writing and gardening.  All this, nurtured on a whim…

Stop by again this summer, won’t you, and see what else the harvest brings?

30 Years of Love, Honor and Cherish

In love and naïve, we stood at the altar March 19, 1983 and promised to love, honor and cherish each other.  At 20 and 21½ years old, we had no idea where those promises would lead us, only that we were committed to being together.  On Tuesday, we’ll pause to celebrate and reminisce over some of the highs and lows those promises carried us through these last thirty years.  Then on Wednesday, we’ll head into the next thirty, with the same promises, still in love, albeit a little older and wiser.    

Steve and I moved straight from our parent’s homes to our home together.  Some would say that not having that individual time of being on our own wasn’t good, but for us, it worked.  We learned early and fast how to be flexible with each other and laid the groundwork ~ in compromise and laughter. It’s been the foundation of our relationship and how we’ve approached everything, from our finances to our social life to parenting.   

We’ve been blessed - there’s been a lot of joy and laughter.  I mean lots of laughter.  Steve’s penchant for puns and dry sense of humor has carried us far.  Of course it also helps to be married to your best friend, someone you like as well as love and the one who knows you better than anyone else in the world. 

The first three decades flew by in a heartbeat. We learned what it was to be married, established our household, and became parents, settled into our careers and our community.  We lost both sets of parents and became empty nesters for a time.  On the strength of the good times, a strong foundation of teamwork, and yes, at times just sheer luck, we made it to the other side of some brutally dark times as well.  There’s nothing like coming out of a dark place to find the other standing there, realizing they helped you through it and are waiting with open arms. 

Steve supported my desire to be a stay at home mom and homemaker for the first two decades of our marriage and my lifelong quest to be a writer.  I’ve supported his career choices, his involvement in EMS and firefighting, his devotion to community service and his commitment to being a Mason.  We’ve had fun projects, successful and questionable ventures and more mystery dates than I can remember. Above all else, we’ve been truly blessed to have our son Abram, the maker of The Morgan Three, along with us on the journey for the past 24 years.    

It’s been said that a successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.  I believe you “fall” in love once, by chance.  Staying in love is a purposeful choice. It’s work through years filled with highs and lows supported by honesty, humor and commitment.   It’s a purposeful choice to remember and practice the vows to love, honor and cherish …

It’s good to pause now and again to take a look at the whole of your life in relation to the day to day living.  Thirty years seem a good marker for that.  I don’t know what March 19, 2043 has in store for us but I do see us working our way there, through the inevitable highs and lows with love, laughter and promises.

My Boot Camp Touchstone

Photo courtesy: http://lumberjocks.com/projects/24369

I had to rewrite this post a couple of hours before it was scheduled for release because it was eerily similar to one my good writing friend, Elaine Kehoe posted earlier this afternoon.  We had both written about the six week “I Should Be Writing! Boot Camp” that we just finished, led by our “drill sergeant”, Lisa Romeo. 

Elaine gave an eloquent account of the class and the most important accomplishment she got from it.  Don’t miss her post.  I’m going to break the #1 blogging rule and tell you to go now - really – go read it now – then come back if you want to read my re-written post about Boot Camp and what I’m taking away as my touchstone from the class.   

You’re back?  Thanks…. so we begin… last November I wrote Lisa about participating in Boot Camp.  I told her I was thinking of investing in myself and my writing with the stipend I’d received from a piece published in Chicken Soup for the Soul and wondered if the course was for me. 

By now, you know what the course was by Elaine’s account.  So let me start with Lisa’s account to me last November of what the course is not: 

“To explain how Boot Camp works first let me tell you what Boot Camp is NOT – not a craft class (though there is an option each week to submit work for private feedback); not a motivational seminar or support group (though some writers use it solely for that); not a guilt trip; not a score-keeping situation where you compare your writing output to others. It's also not easy, in the sense that it requires you to take it on, take it seriously, not simply think of it as an extra little something.”

And she was right.  It was NOT easy.  She was TOUGH. She was DIRECT. She was HONEST. She is the most challenging, resourceful and inspiring mentor I’ve ever had. 

The six weeks were filled with lessons, assignments, daily prompts and briefs, feedback on written pieces, suggested readings, resources, techniques, tips suggested readings, and one-on-one phone calls with Lisa.  We looked at our habits, our vices and our support systems.   She ran me through my paces and helped me take stock of myself as a writer.  What it meant to me to be one. Where it wove through my past, present and future and how being one fit into the fiber of my life.  And of course, the PRIMARY GOAL OF BOOT CAMP:  To be a writer who writes regularly and to incorporate change to CONTINUE to write regularly AFTER Boot Camp ended.   

And my take away touchstone?  That would be the dual tag team of commitment and accountability. 

As a good little beginning boot camper, I wanted to please the drill sergeant and started out by feeling that the most important thing was following through on the commitment(s) made on a Monday by email to Lisa about what I would accomplish the coming week and to report favorably on them during my accountability check-ins. 

You see, commitment and follow through to others has always been a strong motivator for me.  Commitment and follow through to myself…not so much.  But a funny thing happened as I passed through those accountability checks.  I began to value the work of the commitment as much as I wanted to report it “being done.”  The work, my development as a writer, and the scope of my writing began to grow. 

Before I knew it, I’d begun to create a “writing life” for myself through my commitments.  Being a steadfast calendar person, I took to plotting my commitments by the day, week, month and year.  I penciled in time to make a writing space for myself, to write and post a blog piece, to do my assignments for Boot camp, scheduled time for writing and researching markets, and wrote down the deadlines for submissions I found interesting. 

This was a major breakthrough for me and my key to continuing to write regularly after Boot Camp.  Seeing the commitments on the calendar broke what I wanted to do into manageable pieces, gave me a sense of control over what I wanted to accomplish and nudged me into areas I’d never ventured before. I even applied for a position with a new online literary magazine as a “staff reader.”  (Application acknowledged and just waiting, waiting, waiting to hear back – keep your fingers crossed!) How the commitments grew on each other and led to different areas added variety and reignited an interest in writing that I’d lost.    

However, I know myself well enough to know that valuing the work of the commitment won’t carry me for long.  I need to be accountable.  The commitment process developed and worked for me on the basis of being accountable to someone.  So now that the six weeks have ended and my accountability to Lisa has come to a close, I’m fortunate to have made a commitment with my good friend Elaine, to be accountable to each other for our writing. AND it’s super helpful that we have all the resources Lisa put at our fingertips to help guide us. 

It’s not easy to invest in ourselves.  But every once in a while when we do, the investment comes back tenfold.  I know Boot Camp is one of those rare items that will increase in value every time I go through the materials; utilize a tip, technique or writing prompt.  It’s carrying me “onward” into my writing future. 

I’ll end as I began, breaking that #1 rule and suggest you head over to Lisa’s site now and check out the next Boot Camp that starts April 8^th.  Click on the other classes and/or private coaching she offers.  She’s an investment you just can’t beat. 

Do it. Do it for yourself. Do it for your writing. Do it now.

Be EXCELLENT to Each Other

I spotted this bumper sticker on a parked car as Steven and I strolled along a sidewalk in Maine last summer.  I actually stopped and took a picture of it.  Why?  It’s a good reminder.  It’s direct.  It’s simple. It’s honest.  And yes, it’s easy.  Easier than you think.

The word excellent scares people off.  They think it’s “over the top” and “highly ambitious” when really the definition is just “very good of its kind:  eminently good”.  Not so scary or unattainable in that light.

Being excellent is being mindful of the mundane, routine, everyday life most of us live and purposefully taking it up a notch.  It’s making life more enjoyable with an action for another, your tone of voice, a thoughtful task done. A please and thank you. It’s giving consideration to someone else’s point of view or situation – sometimes making a concession.  It’s in following through on your word and keeping a promise. 

So while it’s not anything over the top or highly ambitious, it is being eminently good, and being so consistently. It’s within everyone’s reach.  It costs nothing – it’s only the giving of yourself.    

You can be excellent in any relationship whether it’s with a partner, a child, a parent, a coworker, a sibling or a friend. We’re naturally excellent in the first blush of our relationships.  It’s easy when things are fresh and new.  Personalities haven’t clashed, differences in thoughts and beliefs haven’t surfaced, and often the challenges of life that tend to wear you down haven’t happened yet.  But then they do.  Months and years pass and it’s easy to hold a grudge, fall into a rut or begin to take for granted this other person who truly does mean so much to you.  You lose what being excellent to each other brings your relationship. 

Spotting that bumper sticker stopped me in my tracks.  You can’t be on a 30 year journey with someone and not stumble a time or two, which Steven and I have done.  But our past practices of embracing the little daily things we do for each other, the respect we feel for and show each other, the humor and the love, and the mindset of being a team, are what’s always brought us back on course and to the incredible place we are now.  A lifelong set of practices wrapped up in 5 little words on a bumper sticker.  Be Excellent to Each Other. 

Take a moment and think of the ones in your life who are important to you.  The ones you love. Go be excellent with them.  Be excellent to each other.  Do it now. Do it today. And every day that follows. 

The Community Beyond My Desk

I never expected this to happen or to find myself here.

Creating for me has been a solitary endeavor.  However, I’ve stepped away from my desk and found a very welcoming place indeed. 

A few months ago, I was invited to join a group of local artists (writers, musicians, actors, painters, designers, to name a few).  Their mission?  “To spark their creative endeavors and get encouragement to keep on working.” As a loner, it was a leap of faith for me to join this group.  We meet once a month and discuss everything imaginable from the drive we feel to be creative, the tools we use, the workspaces we use and the risks and sacrifices we make in our lives to do what we do.  It was astounding to me the similarities in challenges and goals we all share.

In a very short time they’ve had a profound effect in how I see myself as an artist and the creative process.

Photo Credit: Niagara Univesity

An assignment from the “You Should Be Writing Boot Camp” course I’m taking tasked me to “nurture myself with a planned distraction”.  I work at Niagara University, which is home to the Castellani Art Museum. I like museums, however rarely go.  In fact, I've gone to the Castellani once in my seven years at Niagara.

So a few weeks ago on my lunch hour, I walked the rooms, starting with an exhibition of the history of Niagara Falls.  The following rooms housed a celebration of the Top-Spin series (solo exhibitions for emerging regional artists), portraits, sculptures and paintings. 
In the last room that held a collection on the Underground Railroad, I sat on the remarkably comfy bench and thought of being an artist.  

I thought about FEELING like an artist.  Like the ones who created the works I'd just looked at.  They had a vision.  They created and developed it into a form to share with others.  Their work touched me in thought and emotion.  

I thought about BEING an artist. I have a vision.  I create and develop pieces and share them with others.  People read my work that I will never know or meet.  It will touch them in ways that I don't know and can't imagine.   

I thought about the procrastinations and distractions in their lives and the daily routines they had.  And I thought about all the finished pieces I'd seen.  And that made me think about their commitments, their drive, their love of their craft.  I have within me all the same vices and talents. 

Then Friday night, I went to a reception for the artists of MY FAVORITE THINGS, by Robin Frey and Heidi Zanelli at Fox Run’s Gyda Higgins Gallery.  I met Heidi through the local group of artists. 
I walked the exhibition, admiring the beauty of the paintings and portraits as I listened to vocalist Mari McNeil, another artist from the group, provide soft musical jazz background.  Again, I found myself thinking of the process of creating and being an artist.

Sometimes stepping away from your own little corner of creativity opens up a whole new world, which is exactly what’s happened.  Where have I found myself now?  Remarkably... in a community of artists. 

A community made up of online friends, mentors and blogging groups like GBE2 Blog On and The Writer’s Post.  There is the talented group of writers and a wise instructor, Lisa Romeo, who I’ve met through the Boot Camp course, and an inspiring group of artists that I meet with once a month, all who have spurred my creativity to new heights.  More importantly, they’ve helped me feel a part of something bigger – something that allows me to walk through the Castellani or an artist’s reception and feel a connection not only to the finished pieces, but the artists, whether I know them or not.  We are ALL part of a community of artists.   

So no, I never expected this to happen or to find myself here; part of a world I hadn’t realized existed.  A world where I can nurture and support others with my experiences or by being part of an event.  By sharing my goals, my failures or my techniques. By showing interest and giving encouragement and feedback.  Yes, it’s a simple concept, but a new one for this solitary writer.  I’m glad I finally ventured past the edge of my desk.

On Being Lucky

Really - I couldn't just put a RABBIT's FOOT here now could I?

My mother, the Queen of Spin, instilled in me at an early age that 13 was a LUCKY number.  So, standing on the horizon of 2013, I’m expecting a lot!  In my heart of hearts, I know she pushed that belief in us kids because my oldest brother’s (and youngest nephew’s) birthdays are on April 13^th.  She wasn’t a believer in bad luck, so in our household, the number got flipped on its head.  There was never any worry of the 13^th floor in any building and Friday the 13^th, well that was just a “double” lucky day. 

I kick off 2013 with turning 50 this month.  Personally, it doesn’t bother me – chalk up another one for mom – who always said that age was just a number and since we didn’t have any control over it, why worry about it?  What I didn’t expect is the freedom that I do the closer I get to the day.  Somewhere in my head, 50 became the line in the sand.  You know… the one where I’m not trying to “establish” anything, or to “be” anyone.  It’s where I just get to be comfortable in my own skin and enjoy the groundwork I’ve laid down.  I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the fact that I’ve gone to a few funerals in the past few years for friends my age or younger that really shook me up.  So, in their memory, I really don’t have any right other than to just celebrate it for the sheer luck and gift of being able to.

March brings the joyful celebration of 30 years of marriage to my confidante, best friend and soul mate.  Will it have been 10,958 days of wedded bliss?  Of course not.  But honestly, pretty darn close. A few years ago, I watched Susan Sarandon as Beverly Clark in Shall We Dance give one of the best descriptions of marriage I’ve ever heard.. "We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'." And so, on March 19^th, Steven and I will have been each other’s witness for 10, 958 days.  And for that I am grateful, humbled and proud. 

Kitschy, Kitschy - here we come!

Summer looms with the “Amy & Steve hit Route 66” trip.  We’ll fly into Chicago, rent a car and travel the fabled ribbon of asphalt and concrete to LA and then fly home.   Over 2,000 miles in 14 days filled with enough diners, kitschy road side attractions, and historic sites to keep us laughing, learning and loving all the way. 

Around the house there is a front foyer make-over project with a built-in combination coat rack/storage bench that we’re pretty excited about.  We’ll be tiling virgins on that one as we place the tile floor in during that project (good thing it’s a small area to learn on)!

I’ve got some writing classes planned, hopefully LOTS of writing and some submissions to send out. Birthday celebrations for Abram and Steve along with a few surprises sprinkled in and it should be a busy year! And of course, there’s that whole “lucky” element from Mom.  I’ll have to pay closer attention to the lottery this year, just in case it wasn’t all spin.