chrissy

Remembering The People Who Help You Along Your Journey

We close on our house tomorrow at 11 a.m. Yeah!!! It has been a long journey from deciding to buy a house to closing. It hasn’t been fun most of the time. There’s been mostly bad times. There were three houses that we put offers on, but for some reason they didn’t work out. There has been one house (for sale by owner) that we almost bought, but the owner pulled out two weeks before closing. I can’t tell you how many houses we have looked at over the course of a year and a half that didn’t fit what we were looking for.

I was thinking last night about how many people helped us in journey. Helped us not lose hope. With financing. With looking for houses and telling us when they found one that we might be interested in. Giving their opinion of the house we were looking at after looking at pictures on Realtor.com. (My husband comes from a family of 11 kids — everyone has their opinion).

I’d like to list the people that helped us.

Tara, our realtor. She is absolutely wonderful. She has shown us so many houses and been absolutely amazing through it all. She has helped us make offers (we should have used her on the for sale by owner house) and worked around my husband’s (the two days he is home) schedule. There have many times I have been ready to give up. She’s always encouraging me with the phrase “Chris, the right house is out there. We just have to find it.” There are many times I didn’t believe her, but she was right. I knew the house we are buying was the house. (I also “knew” I was going to marry my husband on the first day I met him. That’s another blog post).

Rebecca, our banker. She’s been there for us from day one. (Although she knows I won’t hesitate to go somewhere else for a loan. When I was looking for my last vehicle she said I’d have to wait a week for the loan to go through. I thanked her for her help and told her I was going to a different bank. I was signing papers two days later.) When the seller killed the for sale by owner deal I was devastated. I had worked my butt off to make that deal work. She shrugged her shoulders and told us that maybe it wasn’t the house for us and that we would probably find one that fit our needs better. I was shocked. I didn’t understand how it couldn’t be the house for us. Now I understand. She has been there to answer any questions we may have. She has time for us any time we have went to the bank to see her. She answers my emails from home before she goes to work.

My mom. She’s the best mom in the world and I am so lucky to have her. She’s always there for me with kind words, a hug, a ear and occasionally a lecture, if I need it (and sometimes I do). I can call her and she’s at my house in five minutes. (Another reason I didn’t want the house. It’s 20 minutes away. She told me not to worry. The new house is a hop, skip and a jump away….when it’s not snowing). She’s my rock and I’m going to be lost without her when she passes.

The girls at work. I work with encouraging women who have been with me every step of the way. Consoling me after the house deal fell through, encouraging me to keep looking when I lost hope and celebrating with me when things are good. I love all their advice and tidbits of info. They always make me laugh.

My family and my in laws. I am extremely lucky to have this bunch. My husband’s family is a lot like mine. We are always there for one another. My family is quiet. They give their opinions when needed. My husband’s family is loud and very opinionated. You always know where you stand and what their opinion is. Whether you want to know or not. Our families mesh. We invite my husband’s family to our family functions and they invite my family to their functions. Both families have been extremely supportive with our house hunt and have even gone to look at houses with us. They are going to help us move, paint and all of that good stuff. Fun. Fun.

I think sometimes we are so caught up in the process of whatever we are doing that we forget about the people who help us along the way and who are always there for us. Day in and day out. We might not always get along or have the same opinion, but at the end of the day that doesn’t matter. What matters is that they are always there for us and willing to help.

We are going to give our realtor a $50 gift card to Kohl’s and my husband is going to offer to do a project that our banker needs done at her house for all of their help. We are going to have a house warming party for our families and friends.

One of the best things about the journey are the people that help you along the way.

I Am One Of Those People

“I don’t want to be one of those people,” I told my husband one day before my class to become a member of his church.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“One of those people who are go to church every Sunday because they are getting married and then once they are married they stop going to church.

Guess what? I am one of those people. The last time I was in church was two and a half years ago when my mother in law died.

I love my UCC church. I feel at peace there. My husband’s family is there. Everyone treats me nice and makes me feel like I belong. I feel closer to God there than I do anywhere else.

The thing is that I feel like a hypocrite when I am there. I don’t believe in the same things that they believe. I don’t believe after you die and go to Heaven that is all there is. I see a bigger picture. I believe in reincarnation, past lives and that we are here to fulfill a purpose in the greater scheme of things and when that purpose is filled we die. We die, do whatever we need to do to prepare for our next life and go to our next life, if that is what we need to do.

When I was growing up, religion wasn’t forced down our throats. My mom is Catholic, but stopped going to church when she married my dad. I don’t remember my dad’s family talking about church when I was little. I loved the fact that I didn’t have to get up and go to church on Sunday mornings. I didn’t have to go to Sunday school and confirmation classes. I watched cartoons or slept in on Sunday mornings. Kids at school and in my neighborhood talked about church, but I really didn’t know what they were talking about. My mom feels bad that she didn’t take us to church and help us develop that part of ourselves. I’m glad she didn’t because then I could decide for myself what kind of religion, if any, I wanted in my life.

I’ve always been more spiritual, than religious. I like to be open to different things. I don’t want someone to tell me that I need to obey certain rules because I am a certain religion. I don’t think anyone should be able to tell me that I have to be in church this many Sundays a month or that I have to give this amount of money. To me, this is between God and I and no one else. If I see something in another church of a different religion that interests me I should be able to go and experience that on a Sunday. If I want to give money to a cause that touches me in some way I should give money to that instead of giving it to the church that week. I am more of a free spirit that way.

I was in church this morning for my husband’s niece’s confirmation. I always wonder if Rev. Roger can sense my beliefs when I shake his hand after the service. Does he know I don’t believe everything that he believes? Does he feel that something is off? Sometimes I think that reverends are closer to God and have a different perspective of things than we do because they have studied religion for so long and are in church almost every day. It’s almost like they know God better than we do because of the church.

There is a UCC church two blocks away from the new house. I think I’m going to start going there if Steve leaves out on Sunday morning. I can walk. Since it’s in a farm community maybe I won’t have to dress up. I can go to church when I want.

I learned this morning that this an area of my life that I would like to learn more about myself in. Maybe explore different religions and go to different services in the area. I don’t feel rounded in this area in my life. I feel that maybe something is missing. Something was definitely speaking to me this morning. Nudging at me. Maybe it was more of a feeling. I would love to take some time and find out what that something is.

Maybe it’s the next leg of my journey.

Gratitude Saturday

Today I’m going to follow LA (waking up on the wrong side of 50) and list the ten things I am grateful for.

1. My husband’s “angels”. The awesome men and women who help him while he’s out on the road. I really appreciate the people who help truckers even when they don’t have to. From the small things like people stopping traffic with their vehicle so the trucker can make a turn to the big stuff like the mechanics who take a later lunch so they can work on a truck so the drive can get back on the road. Thank you all. You are appreciated

2. Tara, my real estate agent and Rebecca, my banker, who are working hard to make sure this house deal happens. 5 more days til we close. So excited.

3. That my niece wasn’t hurt in the car accident she was in.

4. My husband and how hard he works. He left this morning so he can be back in time for the final walk through of the new house on Thursday. He’s missing his niece’s confirmation tomorrow and seeing people from out of state who have come to town for the confirmation. I am very lucky to have him.

5. My job. Even though I’m not happy with the crap that goes on, I am very grateful that I have a great paying job and great coworkers.

6. My blogging community. I learn so much from all of you and from the new blogs I stumble across. I appreciate all of you.

7. The spring is finally on it’s way. It was cold and windy as crap today, but I least there is light at the end of the tunnel.

8. That the campground opens in a month. I can’t wait to sit on the deck and write and/or lay on my floatie and relax. This is what has kept me going this weekend.

9. I learned how to upload pictures from my phone to my computer today. Hopefully I will be able to post pics soon and I will post a picture of my floatie. I love it!!!

10. My husband, my family and my in laws. They are an awesome group of people who definitely have their own quirks and love me and my quirks unconditionally. I am loved and spoiled and well taken care of and for that I am extremely grateful.

Conceal And Carry

I normally don’t write about guns or politics because this isn’t what my blog is about, but something happened last week that I was very uncomfortable with and I need to write about it.

Last week when I walked into Kohl’s I was shocked to see the butt of a guy’s gun sticking out of the back waistband of his jeans. I didn’t feel comfortable nor did I want to stay in the store, but I was looking for things for the new house and I didn’t have the time to come back later.

I’m not a gun person nor have I ever been. I was taught to respect guns. My dad hunted deer. He had two rifles and a pistol in a locked gun cabinet in our basement when I was growing up. He didn’t touch his guns except for to get ready for deer hunting. My three siblings and I never touched that cabinet or those guns. They were my dad’s and they were totally off limits. I mean, break your arm if you touched them, off limits. I’ve never been involved in any lifestyle where I have needed to have a gun. I have never shot a gun, been to a range or anything like that. I have heard of the NRA, but I don’t know who they represent, what they believe in or anything about them. Yes, I am very naive when it comes to guns.

The guy in Kohl’s was a big, burly guy. Probably weighed 250 and was about 5″9. He could have easily taken care of himself (without a gun) if anyone was messing with him. Why he had to show everyone he had a gun I don’t know. Maybe it was arrogance. Personally, I don’t see anyone reason to have a gun while you are shopping in Kohl’s. There were maybe 35 people in the store and that’s counting the employees. I think it was totally uncalled for.

I don’t know why this bothered me so much. Maybe it was because he could shoot me for any reason and I could possibly die on the floor. Or that he could have shot anyone in the store for that matter and I would have had to witness it. Maybe it was because he put me in a situation that I was uncomfortable with and I was a little pissed off.

I don’t care if someone conceals a gun that they are carrying and they are in the same building as I am. A coworker asked me, Wouldn’t you rather know? No, I wouldn’t. I feel better if I don’t know about it. I feel if they are concealing it they are following the rules and are hopefully respectful people and would only use it if they had to. I understand that this isn’t always the case.

I feel if you’re name is on the blackboard in the sky and it’s you’re turn to die you are going to die. No matter if someone has a gun or not.

I can see having a gun in your home to protect yourself from an intruder. I can see carrying a gun if you live in a big city and have to drive thru a bad part of it every day.

When I checked out, I spoke to a member of management about the guy with the gun and knowing that someone had a gun in their store was a very uncomfortable shopping experience for me. She thanked me for saying something and went to talk to security.

On my way out I forgot to look whether or not Kohl’s had a “No Firearms Allowed” sign post on the front doors of the store. Usually stores do.

I truly believe if you don’t have a specific use for a gun then you shouldn’t have it or carry it — plain and simple.

I mailed out the first 50 pages of my novel and a two page outline Wednesday afternoon.

Yeah!!!

I don’t mean to toot my own horn but I’m going to do it anyway. I’m extremely proud of myself. I worked my butt off to get it to the Post Office on Wednesday. I had some problems and wanted to give up several times. I wanted to give up because I didn’t know why I was putting so much effort into something I probably I’m not going to even get close to winning. There were other things I could be doing….like sleeping. I didn’t know why, but I kept typing. Then I got a comment from ohnaturalgirl125 on my blog that said I inspire her. That made my day and inspired me to keep going whether or not I was going to win.

Even though I didn’t want to I kept typing. I kept thinking of how I didn’t finish NaNoWriMo. I started strong, but things came up and I didn’t finish. It bothers me that I didn’t finish. I didn’t want to admit to people that I didn’t finish this goal either.

I wanted to work on it last weekend, but I hurt pulled my bicep muscle while I was sleeping (don’t ask). I was out of commission for most of the weekend. I started typing on Sunday after I took three Ibuprofens. I continued typing my 50 pages on Sunday night. I edited my outline on paper at work and came home and edited my outline on my computer. Monday night I stayed up until 2 am and woke up at 9 am and started typing. Tuesday night I started typing the last 17 pages I needed and on Tuesday night I finished at 3 am. On Wednesday I woke up at 8 am and printed the outline, the 50 pages and typed and printed my cover letter and got it ready to mail. I mailed it at 12:23 it was at the post office.

Yeah!!!

I haven’t posted anything this last week because I’ve been focused on my first 50 pages and outline.

My next goal is to rewrite the whole novel one chapter at a time. Hopefully, I will be able start this in the middle of April at the campground.

After I finish moving…..

Figuring Out My Inner Critic

This is what my inner critic was babbling in my ear this morning

Who do you think you are trying to write a novel?

That sentence is terrible.

I don’t know why you are editing these fifty pages. You’re manuscript isn’t going to win anyway.

You must think you are better than everyone else.

I don’t know why you are even trying.

It’s snowing outside. We got about five inches of snow overnight. I cancelled my annual exam appointment this morning so I could stay home and edit my manuscript while laying in bed in my jammies. I needed a little TLC and downtime.

As I started editing my inner critic jumped in full force babbling all the crap from above and all my insecurities came to the surface. I felt my manuscript was kinda of blah. My sentence structure wasn’t the greatest. I didn’t have the warm, fuzzy feeling that I normally do when I edit. I felt like there was a dark rain cloud hanging over manuscript.

Usually my inner critic isn’t this loud or critical or if it is I ignore it, but not this morning. It was hard to edit this morning, but I kept pushing through. I edited the pages that I wanted to, but I’m not feeling confident about it.

I know the phrases Who do you think you are trying to write a novel and You must think you are better than everyone else are from my childhood. I’ve wanted to write since I was little. I’ve always had lofty dreams. My two younger brothers were always labeled “Learning Disabled” in school and my mom still uses this reference once in a great while in reference to something. Maybe this is why I haven’t finished my novel because who am I to go after my dreams when they are learning disabled? It’s just this old shit from my childhood that I need to sift through and figure out. My brother’s are far from learning disabled. My angry brother built a truck from the frame up and I’m sure my other brother could do the same. So why I am holding myself back? What if I would publish my romance novel? Would it make me better than them? No. Would it make me better than anyone? No.

I love it (not really) when this crap from the past comes up and I have to deal with it. Especially when I thought I already dealt with it. I know I have dealt with parts of it, but not all of it. This is something I’m definitely going to have to write about in my journal. I’m grateful for my inner critic today for showing me another brick that can be taken down from my wall of armor.

What does your inner critic say to you?

QP Shaquem Griffin What An Inspiration

Last night I was channel surfing and came across the NFL Combine. The NFL Combine is a place where invited college football players perform physical and mental tests in front of NFL coaches, general managers and scouts.

Shaquem Griffin was one of the invited college linebackers. He played college ball for UCF. He ran the 40 yard dash in 4:38. Holy crap! The fastest linebacker at The Combine since 2003. He benched 20 reps of 220 pounds. Wow!

What’s so impressive about this player is that he doesn’t have a hand. It was amputated when he was 4. He benched 20 reps with a special prosthetic attached to his left arm.

He played football in college and won awards and now he wants to play in the NFL. His twin, Shaquill, plays for the Seattle Seahawks.

What I love about him is that he doesn’t let his handicap determine what he can and can’t do. He decides. He pushes through. He preservers. He knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.

Watching Shaquem last night motivated me. If he plays football with one hand then there is no reason I can’t achieve my dreams. I need to push through. I need to preserver. No matter what obstacles are in my way. I need to be fearless when it comes to my dream of getting my writing published.

I’m going to find a picture of him bench pressing and hang it in my office for the days I’m feeling down and don’t have the confidence I need to achieve my dreams.

Check out his story. I bet you’ll be motivated, too.

Gratitude Saturdays

LA from the blog Waking up on the Wrong Side of 50 posted 10 things that she was grateful today. I hope you don’t mind, LA, that I’m going to follow in your footsteps today and list ten things I am grateful for.

1. The day shopping trip I’m going on tomorrow with my mom, sister and niece

2. That my husband made it home safe and sound this week (and every week)

3. For the new house we are in the process of buying

4. That I don’t have to work mandatory overtime today

5. That I’m able to take boxes home from work for the move

6. For Ebay and Craigslist that give me the opportunity to sell some of the stuff we don’t need anymore before the move

7. Las Vegas my home away from home.

8. My blogging community

9. Books and pens

10. The internet and wordpress and my computer

Maybe if people think about what they are grateful for today other people will feel hope and love and maybe they will feel gratitude, too.

What are you grateful for today?

March 2018 Goals

Below are my goals for March 2018:

Pack up 85% of my house. I have my fingers, toes and boobs crossed that this house works out. We plan to close on March 30 so after that we can start moving. Yay! We plan on giving my cousin 30 days notice on April 15 that we will be moved out by May 15. That will give us six weeks to paint, move and clean the place we are currently in. I still have a lot of stuff packed in boxes from last time so I’m sitting pretty good. The bad thing is is that I don’t know how to tell my cousin. We’re not on good terms right now. He still thinks I’m three and that I should sit in the corner and not have an opinion. That doesn’t work for me. He doesn’t see me as a grown up. He still thinks I’m his little cousin who he needs to look out for. In a way, it’s very sweet. I get that. But I’m 52 years old. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions and having my own opinions. He’s also a tight wad. I’m sure this will be another post.

Submit the first 50 pages of my novel and an outline to the James Jones First Novel Fellowship. I’ll be finishing this up in the next couple of days. I plan to mail it on March 8.

To edit and rewrite the next 50 pages of a Time To Leave

To write a new post every Sunday and Wednesday

This seems like a very boring list. Maybe this is why I don’t post my goals. Oh well. I thought I’d give it a shot.

Have a great day!!

I Am An Author

As I’ve been packing things up this week to get ready to move I realized that I have been basing my decisions on whether I keep certain things in or not in my office, bedroom and basement is if the item will help me move along in my writing career. This is amazing to me because I have never thought this way before.

It makes me happy that in a way I am owning the fact that I am an author. I’ve always known this in the back of my head, but I rarely vocalize it. I don’t portray it in my day to day life. I tell my family and my husband that I am writing, but I don’t call myself an author even though I am author. I did get one of my essays Why I Walk Alone published in Walking Magazine seven or eight years ago. I didn’t get any money for it, but it didn’t matter to me. I was published in a magazine. I had a clip to use. Yeah!

I realize if I want to move forward in my writing career I need to call myself an author. I have to put myself out there. I have to admit to others (besides my blogging community) that I am writing a novel, essays, short fiction or whatever I am working on. I need to join a writing community. I need to be present as an author.

The only problem is is that I am not an author to the people around me. I am a factory worker. A (awesome) aunt. A stepmom. A sister. A daughter. A coworker. A friend. A sister-in-law. A niece. But not an author. In a way, it is kind of sad that no one really knows the author me. My family and my husband know I want to be an author. That I am writing. I didn’t tell anyone that my essay was published. I don’t know why. Maybe because I didn’t make any money for it. Maybe because I know people would expect more of me than I could deliver at that time. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe

I don’t know why I am telling you this. This isn’t what I wanted to write about today, but it’s what filled my head and I had to get it out. I am an author and I am proud of what I create and it’s time to share it with the world.

Maybe it’s because I am working on my romance novel and all of my dreams about having a romance novel published are coming back to the surface and reminding me of who I really want to be and what my dreams are. I need to get back to being that person. I think it’s the reason why I am on this earth. To write. To create. To help people through my writing. The more I blog the more comments and followers I get on my blog. The more posts I post my writing gets stronger and the more confident I become in my abilities.

I’m glad I’m letting more of the real me to the surface. It’s scary, but it needs to happen. I can’t keep hiding my author self to the world. I need to own that fact that I am an author. I need to scream (well maybe not scream) from my rooftop I Am An Author!

I Am An Author!!!!!