Part 1

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There was that feeling again. It was the one that felt like a knot in her stomach. The feeling that said something was going to happen today. It could be good, but most likely, something, or someone, was going to give her grief. Lydia Adams walked slowly towards the quaint little boutique she owned. The Central Texas sky was deep azure, the clouds light and fluffy, and the sun was shining brightly. But Lydia could only feel the knot in her belly. She unlocked the back door, listening to the familiar squeak of the hinges. After disconnecting the alarm, she headed for the small office at the top of the back stairs.

Her cell phone rang just as she sat behind her ancient desk. She pulled her deep red hair back into a quick up flip and answered the phone. It was her best friend, Josie Timmons. Josie always knew when she arrived, and Lydia would have been more shocked if the phone hadn't rung.

"Good morning. What's the count for today?" Lydia asked her friend.

"Twelve days and counting. Can you believe it? I cannot believe it," her friend gushed. "I am finally going to be Mrs. Josiah Todd." Lydia was happy for Josie, but couldn't stand the gushy sentiment. She hoped when her time came she wasn't this gross.

"I still think it's weird that's y'all's names are so close. I think it's eerie," she teased her. Lydia shuffled some papers on her desk, looking for the invoices she had left last night.

"Ha, ha. I know. But I need a favor. Actually, Josiah and I need a favor. We have an unexpected guest coming and I was wondering if we could put him in the guesthouse," Josie inquired.

The guest house was their nickname for the apartment above Lydia's ancient garage. Josie herself had lived there when Lydia bought the house. They became such good friends, Lydia never kicked her out. She had only recently moved to a much larger house, bought by Josie's soon to be husband. The apartment was tiny with one bedroom, one bath, a tiny living room, and a kitchen. Lydia didn't know how Josie had lived in it for so long.

"When is he getting here? I'd like to freshen it up first," Lydia replied.

"He's already here. He came pulling up this morning. You may know him. Josiah said he went to school with y'all. His name is Tyler Wickham."

Lydia felt her vision narrow down to a pin point at the mention of Tyler's name. It had been eight years since she had seen or heard from Wicked Wickham. Eight years since she had been broken hearted and, worse, broken spirited. More had happened to her in that time than she could have ever wanted. She had been young and vulnerable, and desperate for someone to love her. She'd wanted it to be him, but that hadn't been in his plans.

"Lydia, are you there?" Josie asked, concern in her voice.

"Y-yes I'm here. I was looking at an invoice, sorry," she replied, trying not to feel guilty for lying to her friend. "Yeah, I remember him. Tall, dark hair, right?"

"And so much more than that now," her friend laughed. "If I didn't already have Josiah, I might go after him. He has this dangerous, come get me if you can, thing going on that is too sexy."

Lydia was all too aware of Tyler's dangerous side. It was what had attracted her to him. It was what attracted all women to him. It was the dangerous things he did that got him the nickname Wicked.

"Anyway, I'll send him over about six. Is that ok?"

Lydia barely remembered the rest of the conversation. All she could think of was that Tyler Wickham was going to be back in her life. He would be way too close for comfort. And she was scared as hell.


Tyler sipped his coffee, watching the birds fly and play in the back yard. It was quiet and peaceful and it was grating on his nerves already. He didn't usually do weddings. And he definitely wouldn't have shown up when he did, if there hadn't been a week's worth of activities leading up to the wedding. But it was Josiah that was getting married. The only other human being to care if he lived or died. And Tyler had to be here for him, he was the best man.

He hadn't told Josiah he was coming. He just showed up. That was the way he operated. Josiah knew it, because he hadn't asked anyone else to be his best man. He had four brothers and any one of them would have been more than happy to stand by him. But he had chosen Tyler, and Tyler wasn't going to let him down.

"We got you a place to stay," Josiah's deep voice broke through his reverie. "It's a friend of Josie's."


That's as far as I got. I know it needs some polish, but I am not open to bad critique's. A little help would be much appreciated.

Writer's block or something

Many of you know that I am a frustrated writer. That's one reason I love my blog. I can write all I want to, about what I want to, for as long as I want to. It's good to be the queen. I have great plots, story lines, characters. Well, at least in my humble opinion I do. My problem is getting it on the paper.

I can't get the words on the paper fast enough. It would be alright if my fingers kept up with my mind. Then I get behind. And then I get frustrated because I can't keep up with myself. I should learn to type. There are all kinds of great programs out there. There's even a website that will give you so many lessons for free. You can repeat ones you've completed however many times you want. But I haven't done that yet.

The length of a real book intimidates me. If I can't get my fingers in line with my brain, I'll never complete a real book. I know it doesn't have to be 300 pages, but still. The thought of writing a full length novel, or even a 180 page book scares the stuffing out of me.

I get a story line stuck in my head and then the characters start to develop. I get attached and have to work their story out in my head. I try to think about why they are the way they are. Do they have trust issues, or mama issues, or whatever. But they don't leave my head until I work the whole thing out. I'll be driving down the road thinking about what they would do in a certain situation. How would they react to a certain catalyst? This process could take weeks. I had one I couldn't stop thinking about for 2 months.

I think I will try my hand at short stories. Just a few pages long and see if I can get something to start taking shape. There are a lot of magazines that print short stories, and several websites as well. You may see one taking shape here. That could be fun.

Maybe I can get these people out of my head. They're blocking the regular voices.

Tales from the Yard Sale

We had a three family yard sale Saturday. It was us, my in laws, and hubby's oldest brother's family. We worked really hard to get everything set up. The guys helped clean up and move tables and carry stuff to the cars. It was a beautiful day for a yard sale and we made a nice little chunk of change. Everything we had left got donated to various charity thrift stores. It's nice to not have that stuff just piled up in my shed.

The conversations that take place at a yard sale are so funny. People look at your stuff and try to decide if it's good enough junk for them to spend a dollar or two. I'm the same way at a yard sale. Is it worth my quarter? Or my nickel? But there is really no better place to get clothes. If you don't mind hand me downs, it's a steal. Most of the time you can get clothes for 50 cents or less. We sold shoes for 25 cents a pair. Kids clothes are specially great to find, since they are only worn for about twenty minutes before theyre out grown.

There were three girls that kept coming back. They stopped the first time and spent whatever they had in their pockets. They live up the street from the yard sale and were riding their bikes through the neighborhood. They went home and did chores for spending money. They got clothes, and toys, and shoes, and junk. They were so funny. It made me realize that the big girl is soon to be the giggly teenager. I have some time, but it goes so quickly.

The conversation at one of our lulls came around to my sister in law's boss. Apparently, she has issues and is a bitch to work for. She is constantly yelling at my sil, and people walk on egg shells around her. When I asked why in the world she works for someone like that, she excused her boss's behavior by saying that as a child she was slapped around a lot. What? So I started a tirade.

People that use that as an excuse to treat others badly are not only still being abused, but they are continuing the cycle by abusing others. I think it is a huge cop out to use that as an excuse. Without going in to detail, because it's unnecessary, I will say that I had a rough time as a child. It formed who I am, how I treated my children, and how I treat them now. It formed how I treat others and my need for acceptance.

Here's the biggest and best piece of advice I can offer. Get over it. Cowboy up, move on, and start acting like a productive member of society. Talk about it or forget about it. I know that sounds harsh. But the cycle of abuse has got to be broken by someone. Do some things still eat at me? Yes. It's not about blame or who's fault it was. It's over, it's done, and no amount of blame or pointing fingers will ever make it go away.

Start slowly. Put one foot in front of the other. Then try it again. And again. And one day you will be walking all on your own without the baggage that you had to carry with you for so many years. One day you will realize that the cycle has been broken and you are stronger than you thought you were. Don't let it be a chain that always holds you down or keeps you back. And don't use it on other people. The healing has got to start somewhere.

I got strange looks from my mil and sil. They weren't really sure how to take it. My last statement of "Cowboy up and move on or shut the fuck up!" kinda threw them for a loop. Rough, I know, but my sil is enabling the abuse because she relates. I think it hit a little close to home for her. But I think that was part of my point to her.

The rest of the afternoon was event free. Business slacked off about one. We expected that. We started tearing everything down and boxing it up to get rid of it. It was very freeing. It also hurt a little that we didn't sell more and more people didn't want our junk. Oh, well. Maybe the next one.

Vacations

I was watching television tonight and they were playing what seemed like a million vacation commercials. With the economy the way it is, everyone is trying to get tourists to spend their money. The dreams just started coming.

Mount Rushmore is somewhere we would really love to go. I think South Dakota is beautiful. I love the ruggedness of the land, the plains and the mountains coming together. And how genius is it to carve faces out of a mountain. I'm not happy it's carved into the side of the mountain. You can't tell me it didn't affect the landscape, and I don't just mean the faces.

I think it probably took alot more work than we think. First the planning, the designing, the deciding, the planning, the implemeting, the stress. Can you imagine the consequences if you are off just by an inch? Roosevelt might not have a nose. Or Washington may have a mustache. You can't just put the mountain back and start all over. It is an incredible piece of engineering artwork.

I would love to take an adults only to a very private, tropical island. You know the one. The one with the cute bungalow and small pool and hot tub. The one with a dock out over the warm, green waters of the Pacific Ocean. The one with the hut at the end of the dock. The island where we can have lots and lots of hot, nasty, loud, sweaty sex. The kind of sex that you lose ten pounds in a week because you don't eat, you just have sex. Hold on, I'm getting a visual.

I would love to take the donkeys into the Grand Canyon and camp for a night. In a cabin, I should say. I'm not into real camping. I have been to the Grand Canyon twice and loved both times. The majesty and beauty of the grace and glory of God. The magnificence of nature and all that includes. I think the kids would find it incredibly cool.

Our dream is to visit all 50 states. But that is a dream that will have to be put on hold. Once we win the lottery or come into an inheritance of some kind, it is so on. Sell the house and all our stuff and buy a motor home. Home school on the road would be way cool. That is such a great way to spend our days.

Hubby and I have always had wandering feet. The fact that we have lived in the same area as long as we have is amazing to us. We love to be on the road and just go. Wherever we end up is where we end up. Think of the things we could see and the knowledge we could gain.

Where is your dream vacation? Do you like the mountains, the beach, or both? Do you like to rough it in a tent or rough it in Motel 6? Where would you like to wind up?

Choices

Hubby and I were talking the other night about his brothers. While I will not divulge which brothers or what the conversation was about, I will say that the conversation was about choices. We make choices every day. Some times we make really good ones, even great. But some times we make really bad, stinky ones. I believe that those choices affect us not just for the rest of our lives, but also in every aspect of our lives.

We all have issues. But it seems that their's have just bled over into every part of their day. Poor choices have led them to near poverty at times, angry feelings, no communication, and stressful lives. I want to shake them sometimes. Tell them to fix the problem, not dig a deeper hole. But I have serious control issues. Had really, but still holding on in alot of areas. And then I remember that when I point the finger of blame, I have three more fingers pointing back at me. Great, now I have to reflect.

Poor choices have also led me to near poverty at times, no communication, and stressful lives. I don't know how any of us survive when we first go out on our own. When we think that we know everything there is to know about life. I was scared crapless the first time I moved out of the house. I didn't know if I could do it or not. If I crashed and burned could I still go home?

My mom was always really good about letting my sister come home. She even let me come home. I just knew that when I turned 18, I would come home and my stuff would be in the front yard, on fire. It wasn't thankfully. My sister even brought her roommate one time. Yeah, a house with four women is completely fun.

Poor choices led hubby and I into a really bad car loan. That thing tried to kill us. We made outrageous payments on a vehicle we bought from a dealership that turned out to have a really shady reputation. We didn't know that at the time. They pretty much kept hubby hostage until he signed. We did really need a car badly. And we ended up trading it in when we were barely upside down in it and had some money to put down. It was nice to get rid of it.

Poor choices has led us back into the credit trap. We had been through the wringer once, and here we are again. When you have three kids and little or no money coming in, you do what you have to to put food on the table and clothes on their backs. We did just try to clear up some of that, so we are feeling a little proud of ourselves.

And all those poor choices lead us to stressful lives. And we are still living a stressful life. We know we can only take one step at a time. We keep the lines of communication open now. If we are stressed or snippy or feeling not right, we talk about it. We still make poor choices, but I feel like we are starting to make more and more right ones. Hopefully, we'll keep getting better at it.