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I'm a Pizza

I've been missing on my new blog. The everyday posting thing hasn't worked out for me. But on the other hand, I have been working on a new novel. So it's coffee with Nigel the character in my story that takes flight. I also visit Facebook with my coffee. A stalker of other lives. Is there inspiration to be found? A favorite shop posting a photo of an antique I can't live without. If so, I watch the clock until 10 am when most shops open and make a quick call. "How much? Yes. Perfect. Here is my charge card. I'll be in later today to pick it up." Lately, I wake up in the morning, fear at my heart, as I ask myself a simple question. "Did I buy anything online last night?" Like a drunk on a binge, I am out of control at 2 am, up on Etsy, clicking the 'put in your cart' button. I have a thing for jewelry with old tintypes of turn of the century people. "Dead People" I call the creations with photos dangling from chains of pea...
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Day Two Quotes And A Little Pixie Dust

No hazelnut creamer in my coffee this morning. Life is sweet enough. A few weeks ago I made a promise to myself. No more complaining. No more 'what ifs'. No more waiting to move forward. So many things happened in the last year and a half that slowed me down, made me question who I was and what would I do for the rest of my life. Those thoughts kept me bogged down. Don't worry about the rest of your life, worry about today, became my new mantra. And things started happening. Good things, great things. The reason I moved from my home of thirty years to a small community an hour away - change. I needed change. My old life was good, but I wanted more. The house of my dreams, a chance to jump start my creative juices, and find my biggest adventure yet. You know, I am not a traveler, I am a nester, so that big adventure I want will still be outside my front door. Only this time my door is hinged to a wonderful renovated 1906 Victorian bungalow with sweet gardens, tall c...
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Day One With Coffee

My morning routine is always the same. The dogs want out by 8am. We have been in the bedroom since the night before, a small dog gate blocking the way so a stray pooch cannot stroll to the kitchen and pee. My feet hit the floor and three dogs dash to the gate, tails wagging, bodies wiggling, ready to run down the hallway to the back door. April in Paris and Bray bark with their loud irritating voices, letting me know they want biscuits as well as a chance to do their business. Chloe dances in circles, her leopard print dress with the red ruffles twirling around her tail. It is bedlam. They are excited because I've called out, in my sweetest morning voice, “Let’s go pee pee.” It sounds like a treat about to happen. Three dogs rush to the back door where I quickly open it and slam it behind them. April always tries to turn and come back in. A smart girl, she knows I've lied about food. Bray and Chloe know what to do and go do it.     Two dogs still lie in bed. (It is...
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