Decisions, Decisions

I didn't write much last week. Sorry about that. I was doing something very important. I was DECIDING.

The last year has been full of so much deciding.

Deciding to leave an unhealthy relationship. Deciding to close my flower shop. Deciding to move out and then back in to my house. Deciding to sell almost all of my possessions.

 Let me tell you something about deciding: Deciding is very exhausting.

If you are a careful person like me who likes to have a plan, deciding carries a huge amount of weight. Every decision seems like it has the ability to change your entire life.

I have the additional problem of being a people-pleaser, so any decision that hurts or disappoints another person has added difficulty.

Today I start a new job and this afternoon, if all goes well at the new flower shop, I have to tell my old boss, who is also my friend, that I am leaving.

The pay is better and there are benefits. It is the best decision for me and my kids.

Still, all last week I worried it might be the wrong decision. What if it was too hard? What if my boss was mean? What if leaving my old job was a big mistake?

I told my teenager about my worries.

"Just do it mom," She said. "If it doesn't work out, it's O.K. God will give you something else."

O.K. Here goes another new beginning. Wish me luck.

Welcome Aboard to my old high school buddy Chris Hughes.

First Things First

Today should be a good day because my youngest child turned 16 today, the sun is shining, I don't have to go to work and try to make beautiful arrangements with half-dead flowers and I can now fit my car into the garage.

But you know something? That wall of worry that I try to look over is very tall today.

On the table are bills that need to be paid.

On my phone is a gloomy message from my divorce lawyer.

Upstairs are baskets of clothes that need to be taken to The Wash Tub to be cleaned and folded.

And in the basement lots and lots of crap that I didn't accumulate but still I have to get rid of.

But there is a coconut cupcake waiting for me at my friend Angela's house and there is a birthday girl waiting to be picked up this afternoon to buy a new birthday phone.

So I have to go. There is a wall that needs climbing.

Thank you to my newest follower Jim Ras. Thanks Jimmy. My goal is 100 by Christmas.

Thank you to my newest follower who is not related to me and is reading voluntarily: Patty Burley

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

It has been a year of big losses for me: Marriage, financial security, dignity and dog. And here comes another one that for me is the worst of all: I have to break up with my house.

Worse that a marriage breaking up you say? She cares more about a house than a relationship?

Well . . . .  yes.

Because I am still in love with my house.

Not really my house exactly. After all, It is just a bunch of siding and nails and the source of huge electric bills.

I am in love with what my house holds. It keeps the memories of four wonderful children who were raised here. It keeps countless birthday parties and magical Christmas mornings and brand new kittens and a loyal dog.

It keeps the story of the mysterious end along with the wonderful beginning.

Every room tells me a hundred stories. In the garden are a thousand smiles. Three of my children are gone, but here I still see them every day.

Really I can hardly imagine life without my house.

But here I go because I have to.

It is hard to think there might be another home I might love someday, but I am hoping for that.

And hope is something I plan to always have.

It's all in the attitude

I went to my first professional baseball game the other day. I think the Cleveland Indians lost, as they usually do, but I didn't really care.

The best part of the whole game was the entertainment.

First of all, some crazy talented five year old, who still had a little problem pronouncing her Rs, belted out the Star Spangled without missing a word or a note.

I thought about how much confidence she had to have to stand up in front of so many people and sing like that. But maybe it's easy to have a good attitude when you are a beautiful little girl with a beautiful singing voice and a beautiful future.

For someone like The Hot Dog Man, a good attitude is something that is a challenge every day.

The Hot Dog Man is a vendor at the game. He walks up and down the aisles sweating and wiping his forehead and maybe thinking that this isn't quite the job he imagined himself having. Maybe he was laid off from his desk job and took the job selling hot dogs as a way to pay the bills.

Probably when he is getting dressed in his red and white shirt for work every day he thinks of the life he was supposed to have and wonders why it worked out for other people, but not for him.

But then he does something I really admire. He shows up at the job that he is too smart for and puts all the other vendors to shame. He puts on a crazy show for all of the folks who are tired of watching their team drop the ball.

"You want a HOT DOG!," he yells to a row.

"Seventh inning! Buy a HOT DOG!" he demands.

And then he sees me and my companion.

"YOU'RE HUNGRY!" he tells me.

BUY HER A HOT DOG! he screams at my date. "SHE WANTS A HOT DOG!"

I don't want a hot dog. But I want the attitude of The Hot Dog Man.