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They say the journey starts with the first steps. This blog isn’t my first step. I am not sure I’ve taken my first step yet.
I’m a thinker. If thinking about getting my life on track would have made me mentally, emotionally, and spiritually healthy and thin, I’d be Twiggy. (okay, I meant Twiggy from the 60’s, however she looks absolutely fabulous today!)

I’m a reader. If reading about how to lose weight, get hypertension under control, be happy, exercise, and eat right, I’d be Jillian Michaels.
I’m a researcher. If finding dozens of different diets, exercise regimes, spices to change my mood or burn more calories, I’d be … well, someone else.

But I’m not someone else. I’m me. I liked the me I used to be. Joyful, crazy fun, life was my bowl of cherries. So here I sit; thinking, reading, researching, and now adding a new passion, writing.

This week, I want to add a first step. A real first step. Today, I will put together my portable peddler bicycle thingie doodle machine and actually use it! *nodding* At least I hope I do that, instead of thinking about doing it. I’ve already read about it and researched it…


Here I go again, thinking. Wouldn’t you  consider putting most of my stuff in storage, packing up my Kia Sportage, (giggles, my typo was calling it a SportRage) leaving rural Kansas to rent a furnished room from someone I don’t know, recommended to be by someone else I really don’t know, would  be enough to make me think?  Trust me, it is. It’s a scary, exciting, anxious kind of thinking.

And then *the* call comes.

No, not from all the dozens of places I’ve been applying for jobs. Not even from ONE of the places. Nope, this one is from my oldest son, Michael. *nods* yes, with the news that my first grandchild is on the way! Talk about exciting! Oh wait, is it exciting? Okay, it *is* exciting. Except they are in the State of Washington and I’m in Colorado.

Thus begins the thinking processes. I don’t have a job, haven’t really had anything solid for over a year. My house foreclosed. I empty nested. Okay, technically I left first. That is another story. I want to be around my grandchild. However I really do not want to live in Washington.

Now, ask me where I *do* want to live? I have no frickin’ idea! I like Colorado Springs, but I need to meet some people. I do not want to be the hermit I was in Kansas.

Ugh! So many thoughts!

((So as I go to paste this, I realize it’s been almost exactly a year since my last post! Whew, so much going on, not all of it’s been good…))

*grins* Moar is an internet slang word for more. The past two weeks have been crazy and exhausting. As noted in an earlier post, I listed my house with a new realtor who walked through my 130 year old Victorian and presented me a list of things to prepare what the agent called a “retail” look, rather than as a “fixer-upper” look. Granted I personally felt my house was already close to a retail look. I’d never heard of the term retail used in selling a house before this meeting. What he meant by retail he described as ready to move in with virtually nothing needing to be fixed.

We had one week before the house went live on the multiple listing. Fortunately my youngest son, Da (pronounced Day), had a few friends more than willing to help with cleaning out the pool and had been working on that for a few days already. I won’t go into what they needed to do to the pool, but it’s sparkling and very inviting right now. Especially in the 100+ degree heat we’ve been experiencing for the past few weeks.

The inside of the house had one room that needed a major facelift. The plan was to simply pull up the carpet, as there was really nice hardwood under it. We knew there was hardwood there because we could see it from an eight inch circular hole worn through the carpet. Inspiration struck! Take a day or so and paint the room first using the old icky carpet as a drop-cloth, then pull up the carpet and spiff up the beautiful flooring we were going to reveal for the first time in over a decade.

Do you have any idea what it takes to paint a room? Especially one with trim that will be a different color? I had no real clue, maybe a nebulous idea wafting around the hidden recesses of my mind, but no real clue. Before you can even start to paint, you have to pick the color scheme! I’m not color blind, but I am decoratingly challenged. My mom has great decorating taste. She kept all the decorating genes… just saying. Anyway mom went to Sherwin-Williams and picked up paint chips and decorating brochures. Late that night, we made a decision to go with a gold wall and white trim.

YaY! I’d made a decorating decision! LET’S PAINT!

Okay, I wasn’t going to be the one painting. Da, my 20 year old son, was going to do the painting. He’s a perfectionist. In order to do it right, we needed to tape the trim off first…

I’m stopping here, because there is a whole section that needs to be described known as the thin, blue line.

(Pictures are supposed to be taken on Friday!)

I’ve always been fairly discerning about the character of the people I meet. Some would call this intuition; others would call it the Holy Spirit leading. Short sidebar: who is to say that intuition isn’t how God chooses to allow his guidance to work. I know many of you reading this might not believe there is a God. You might not believe he’s intimately involved in your life. However, these are just some random thoughts I think about from time to time. Sometimes I don’t go with my gut feelings.

Meanwhile, back on the ranch, erm… the Kansas side of the rainbow: I should have gone with my gut feelings and not used the real estate agent I’d picked. I choose him for the wrong reasons. The guy and his family have been incredibly wonderful to my youngest son. I’ve appreciated their involvement and encouragement of him. However he wasn’t the right person to sell my house. I knew it at the time, but wanted to give my support back to him and his business. Should have gone with my instincts.

Once bitten, twice shy is the proverb. I was attempting to decide if I was going to sell my house on my own. Well, not entirely on my own. My mom has been fabulous in all her help and support. She’s the backbone of my family. She keeps us all on track and focused. She’s amazing. She’s also in a tremendous amount of pain from fibromyalgia all the time. She doesn’t get much sleep. I worry about her, but she worries about the rest of us as well. She tries to tell me that it’s not me and my situation that adds to her stress, and I want to believe her, but it’s what she does. She helps others, especially her family.

Wow, so many side tracks here, my little train might never complete its journey if I don’t focus.

My aunt and niece told me about another agent. I decided to meet with him and there was an instant rapport. He explained what he had to offer. His own website and space on a national website, were a few of the reasons to go with him. He was open, honest, and I felt him to be a man of integrity.

He gave me a long, yet doable list of all the things I needed to do to stage my house to sell. So mom’s made calls, I’ve made calls. The house is a beehive of activity. We have a handyman there, a wonderful friend to help clean, my son to move things. My uncle is going to clean my carpets and make a couple little wood frames. I’m pretty excited. I love this house so much. It’s a 130 year old Victorian. I’ll link it to you after it’s on my new real estate agent’s website. He’s going to take pictures and everything!

Okay, I’m done babbling on for today. I need your love and prayers right now. Especially for my mom too, please.

Ugh, my house isn't as pretty in the Winter.

Hagardly at the age of four... and 21.

The next few days are being spent in finalizing my moving out of my house. It’s not sold. My mom has been doing some research on what she feels could be my next direction I take with it. I’ll be able to have a more definitive direction after tomorrow.

I really liked that house, yet I wasn’t emotionally attached to it like I have been with some of the others. I had a great ranch style home in South Carolina. The boys grew up there. It was on nearly three acres in the woods. Other than a slightly small kitchen that also housed the washer and dryer, it was great.

It was also the house where the boys grew up with their parents fighting. Where the middle son, who is now almost 22, shot his bb gun at the windows of our neighbor’s newly build workshop because he believed the neighbor had sent us a nasty letter, as the yard wasn’t up to the neighborhood standards after my husband left us. Hagardly (my son’s online name) was probably right in that it was that particular neighbor, but wrong in how he dealt with it. However it’s tough for an 8 year old boy to see his mom in tears and not want to do something to make it better. I defended my son to the irate neighbor and only found out a couple years about him actually shooting the windows and why.

Hagardly is very close to me. He’s not my favorite (that line is a inside family joke,) as I truly don’t have favorites. However he was very sick when he was born. We almost lost him. He only allowed two people to hold him. I didn’t just hold him, I wore him. I had a baby sling; he was always being carried by me. I couldn’t do dishes or vacuum without him being there. He confides about everything to me and he knows he can talk to me about anything. He came home after an awesome summer as director of a COPE and climbing course at a Boy Scout camp here in Kansas to help me pack up the house.

Day, Hagardly’s younger brother, is such an awesome kid. He’s nearly 21 and came home for the summer. He’s worked really hard to be able to save money so he won’t have to work when he goes back to college in a few weeks. He’s amazing, with the most compassionate heart. He took it upon himself to get my pool in working order for the sale of the house. It was a huge, horrendous job.  Just this past weekend it was finally finished, with clear cool water for them to swim in during this 100+ degree heat. He’s paid for all the repairs so far. When I finally sell the house, I’ll be able to reimburse him. He’s also undertaking the cleaning of the house after all the packing is completed.

I know this is all pretty boring to most of you, but I really just needed to say how much I love my sons and how much I appreciate their being here for me during these incredibly difficult times.

Sleepless in…


…well not Seattle. I did really enjoy that movie though. No, I’m sleepless in Kansas. I have some big decisions to make in the next few days. I’m tired and need some rest, but when a few things are settled in the next week maybe my mind will stop dwelling on them and move on to other things.

My mom and youngest son are the same way. They don’t stop thinking about things. The same topics keep creeping into conversations. Before I moved in with my mom I’d get the current topic in phone calls telling me she’d sent an email outlining the results of the research she’d done. Now I get her sitting on my bed, telling me about the email she sent with the results of the research she’s done.

My sons used to come in and sit or lay on my bed and talk to me. It was my signal to stop what I was doing and listen to them. I knew it was stuff they’d had rolling around in their head and needed to get out and take a look at with someone who cared about them. If they just kinda stood there, then I knew it was going to be a short, unimportant conversation.

Last night a friend of mine called and we talked for a couple hours. He mostly listened to me as I brought him up-to-date on the current status of my situation. In getting the issues out of my head, I was able to look at them more clearly and get a fresh perspective. It helped me set a slightly new course for the end result I’m looking at accomplishing.

I’m trying to use my writing to get my thoughts out of my head and on to something more concrete.

How do you get your thoughts out of your head and find ways to put them into action? Below is a list of words that search engines use to find this blog. Buried somewhere in there is a word called Comments. If you’d click on it and leave your ideas, it would be great for us to all dialog together.



These days I’m often reminded of a study I heard about once. It dealt with boundaries. The gist of it was little kids on a school playground. When the playground was surrounded by a fence, the children would make full use of the space, right up to and including the fences. However when there were no fences, they tended to stay bunched up and closer to the buildings for security.

I’m feeling like all my boundaries are starting to be lifted right now. I’m so close to selling my house, I can just feel it. Sure in this economy I might have to sell it short, but the burden and boundaries it places upon me will be gone.

It’s so freeing and yet scary at the same time. I can do anything I want to do! Oh my goodness, what is it that I want to do?

I can go anywhere I desire to go! But where would that be? I don’t really want to go back to the town my ex lives in, even though I have a lot of family there. It’s not just that he’s there, but it was a very small town and not really clean. That’s the only way I can describe it. I live in an even smaller town in the Midwest right now, but I’m feeling like I’m very done with small towns. Great place for a single mom to raise three sons because just about everyone knows your business and lets you know about it.  Rotten place for a single woman because just about everyone knows your business and lets everyone else know about it. *huge grins*

I’m smart and intelligent. I almost have my Master’s completed. I have a delightful sense of humor. I get along famously with people of all ages.

So, what is it that I want to do? Maybe it’s time to branch out into a new direction. I don’t have to work with computers. I don’t have to teach people. Even though I’m excellent in both of those areas; I don’t have to go into those fields.

Ugh, so many choices. So many decisions. Decisions I make alone. I don’t have to consider anyone else except me.

*looks around for her boundaries and sees none*

*feels a wee bit scared, yet maybe that’s just the feeling of anticipation and excitement*



Where do you start, when you don’t know where to start? I don’t know where to start these days. I have read that people wanting to write, even with writer’s block, need to write something, anything. I’m not sure writer’s block is my issue at the moment.

Do I have ideas to share? Yeah, I do.

Do I feel like sharing? Sometimes.

So what is my problem?

Perhaps it’s having my job outsourced. Maybe it’s that I have to sell my house. Maybe it’s wanting to move and not sure where I want to move to. Maybe it’s a feeling of not being good enough. Wondering if the things I could write about would be of interest to others. Realizing that once I’ve published on my blog it’s public and anyone, even a potential employer, could read it. What impression would it give them of me?

I think I’ve lost a sense of who I am over the years. I won’t be tied to a house shortly. I don’t have my sons, whom I positively adore, around to drag camping or to the movies. I won’t wait up for them at night to come walking into my room, plop on my bed to talk about stuff.

I need to discover who I am now without burdens. Learn what I like doing. (Okay, yeah, I know I like playing MMOs) I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being bored. I want to enjoy things while I can.

Currently I am sitting in one of my mom’s bedrooms writing. She gave up her office for me. I love my mother, there is no doubt about that. I am here because I’m partially closing down my house to save on expenses.  There is no shame in that. I just need to get out from under some burdens. My house is the last of them. In this economy I’m still praying that my house will sell. Perhaps that means some family gets a fabulous deal on a huge Victorian house, close to a school, in a safe neighborhood.

So maybe I’m just burdened down? *shrugs* Perhaps.

Yeah, so many things I could write. So many topics I could share. Bah, right now, I’m just sharing this with you. Do you ever have times when you don’t know where to start?

Have you ever had so many things to do that you didn’t do any of them? I’ve been like this for ages. When I’d need to do homework back in high school and college, I’d clean my desk. Cleaning my desk was not on my list of things to do. I’d get so engrossed in cleaning. One little cleaning project would lead to another and bam! I’d be too tired to do my homework.

I still have a lot of things on my plate even though I’m not in a job right now, nor in school. Some of the things are have-to-do’s. Some are want-to-do’s. Others are just plain time wasters. My desk is already clean, so I can’t do that. In fact except for some deep cleaning my house is clean. I think my problem still is too many choices.

I need to find and strike a balance. However I’ve come to the conclusion over the years that some of my time wasting activities are actually methods of decompression; a way to relax and stop thinking about more serious things.

I don’t watch television, but I do watch television shows. is amazing to me. I can watch what I want at a time that is better for me. I can’t afford a DVR, but allows me pretty much the same thing, but with “limited commercial interruption.” I love the voice of the announcer for Just saying…

I also watch some webisodes, like The Guild and even though my friend Z hates Dr. Horrible’s Sing-a-long Blog, I love it. My entire family loves it. We quote it often and even break out into duets and trios.

I just updated my list of television shows I watch. Castle is my favorite. It’s amazing. The relationships between all the characters are marvelous.

——spoiler alert—–

Except I am not thrilled with the season finale’s ending. I thought I was going to LOVE it, right up until the last 3 mintues. UGH!

I don’t even want to talk about LOST!

Three fancy elevators, moving up and down.

30 seconds to make your pitch in an Elevator! / CC BY-SA 2.0

Great blog title right? I am reevaluating everything about my blog right now as I prepare to launch a series soon. Using @problogger ‘s 31 Days to a Better Blog as a re-starting point, I looked at the elevator pitch I wrote last year. It was woefully pathetic. My son even laughed at it when he saw it.

Pretend we are now together, riding one of the gorgeous elevators you see on the left. Pretty great view, don’t you think? Now, I need to get your attention and hope when you get back to your destination, you’ll want to read my blog. So, here is my pitch to you…

An enlightened look at the world and the people in it as viewed by an aspiring writer, role player, gamer girl, and venturer.

 Of course my spell checker didn’t like the word venturer and keeps insisting on fixing it. It wasn’t in either. However, I loved the definitions of venture.


1. an undertaking involving uncertainty as to the outcome, esp. a risky or dangerous one: a mountain-climbing venture.

 –verb (used with object)

6. to take the risk of; brave the dangers of: to venture a voyage into space.

 –verb (used without object)

9. to make or embark upon a venture; dare to go: He ventured deep into the jungle.

10. to take a risk; dare; presume: to venture on an ambitious program of reform.

Those very accurately describe where I am in my life right now. I’m ready to venture out into the world. My boys have flown the nest. I’m fairly well educated. I’m still young enough at heart that even the young people still relate with me and wish I were one of their college professors.

Am I only those things? A writer, role player, gamer girl, and venturer? Nah. However those are what I’m currently intrigued with right now. They will guide my writings here, and make for interest reading. Maybe next year I’ll reevaluate again, but for now I like who I am and am excited to see where my ventures take me. Tell me what you think, or better yet, put your own elevator pitch below! I really want people to join in my new ventures.

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