Telling Stories

Venting about Renting

Remember how I said I'm not crazy about renting a house?

Yeah. That hasn't changed. Today, if you were here, you'd see my ugliest, ugliest side. We have a great landlord--thorough and considerate, but I swear to you, since we moved in there's been someone (usually some random guy) working on some part of this house.

So far:

1. The house has been repainted. This was about a week-long process, maybe more, in which there were two men outside (right in the windows) all day long. The windows were taped shut. I'd be working and see a man's face reflected from behind me in my laptop. It was really unnerving and invasive. Did I mention annoying?

2. The doorknob fell off and needed to be replaced. Another man came to fix it. Then he left. Then he came back. I had to be here for all of this.

3. The landscaper came. Put rocks around the trees.

4. I've had to clear out the crawl space four different times. There's NO storage here, so we have a LOT of stuff stacked in that crawl space. Yesterday I was clearing it out and took a huge gouge out of my finger. It bled for half an hour.

5. Today I was working in the living room when I saw a man's face in the backyard. I had no knowledge of a man (two it turns out) needing to do anything in the yard. They apparently needed to fix some wood rot. (Please hold. One of them is at my door.)

6. (I'm back.) Yesterday the furnace guy was here. I have no idea what he needed, but he was here. In the crawl space.

7. Someone came to blow out the sprinklers for the winter.

8. The landlord's been here three or four times. Some of it was stuff that we needed to be fixed... others, I have no idea. And yet, the knob still falls off of the shower and the drain in the bathroom is completely clogged.

You get the point.

Have i mentioned that I WORK FROM HOME?    

Now, this could be because I literally did not sleep last night...perhaps that's why the snark-fest on my blog today. I could post about happy things and pretend that all is well, but seriously. I am SO OVER ALL THE "FIX-UPS" TO THIS HOUSE. I'm wondering why it wasn't done while the house was between tenants (for seven months, according to the neighbors.)

Yes. This is the ugly underbelly of moving. Spending an entire year in a space that's not yours. With not enough space for all your stuff. With men constantly in and out, invading my privacy every. single. day.

Today, I'm over it.

And in spite of ALL OF THIS. I know we're in the right place.

I'm going to stop now and try and focus on THAT for awhile. Wish me luck.

Oh, look, they're at my door again...

I am so over it.

To make matters worse, the banging on the house started today RIGHT at naptime.

RIght during my prime writing time.

And yes. I am upset.

Protected

You might think being by myself most of the day would give me cause for worry, but you'd be so wrong.

How can I worry when I'm protected by this Centurion?

 
Nevermind that said Centurion is so engrossed in his morning Diego that he doesn't even stir, doesn't make a squeak, when I get in his face with the camera.

 
Nevermind that his lips are so stinkin' huge they evoke no fear.

And nevermind that he's a little sleepy in the job.

 
He's still fierce. I mean, he's got a sword for a belt for pete's sake.

(Anyone know who "Pete" is anyway? Are we talking St. Peter when we say "for pete's sake?" I'm just curious.)

 
In other, less exciting news... the other night I was writing and I usually don't once the kids are home from school, but I'd had a frustrating day and needed to make some progress on something. Well, I had just gotten into a groove when Sophia came in and asked to paint.

How could I say no?

I'm still working on my painting, but here's a little hint at what it's gonna look like.

 
I'm kinda into cows right now.

:) I have three or four blog posts in my head, but I'm a bit slammed right now so I'm keeping it simple today. Just had to share my personal hobbitty bodyguard with you.

Hope it's a good Thursday!

How to eat gluten free cupcakes.

Sometimes at night we find the most hilarious things around the house. I'm over thinking die cast Thomas trains and Lightning McQueens are hilarious...those, to me, are just annoying.

But this?

 
Made me laugh. These pictures are from a couple of months ago but they still make me laugh. If you look closer, you'll see that Woody knows how to take down the bad guys.

Course he had a little help from his friends...

 
My guess is he's got Lego Indiana Jones under control in a serious way.

After all, he decapitated the poor guy AND ran over him with the police cruiser.

 

You don't get much deader than that.

I had no idea Woody was so hard core.

In other news, in beautiful but windy Fort Collins we have a Cupcakery. I want to do a whole post on it because, if you've been reading my blog for awhile you know about my Cupcake Dreams... Something about cupcakes...

Anyway, on Thursdays they have gluten free cupcakes.

And yes, that made for one happy little hobbit.

 

I want you to notice the placement of my hobbit's tongue. I guess he's more Sam-wise than Frodo given that Sean Astin has something of a lisp too. Am I gonna have to worry about this?

I mean, check it out.

 
Don't mind the residual blood around and on his nose. Sometimes fighting with him to clean it off just isn't worth it and I'm too lazy to re-open Photoshop to edit it. We come as we are on this blog. 

(Nosebleed update though: Humidifiers are awesome. Hasn't had one since we put it in his room!)

Anyway, he was pretty happy with his vanilla bean cupcake (I tasted it. You would NEVER have known it was gluten free. Ok. I did more than taste it. I ate one. A whole one. Gosh, I can't even pretend I didn't. It was really, really good.)

 
In the interest of full disclosure I can tell you we have little self control when it comes to cupcakes 'round these parts.

We just dive right in.

 

...and enjoy.

Happy Tuesday!

Mama's on Deadline...

...And everything goes to pot!

 
What's that you say? You want a close up?

Oh, I can oblige. There's no pride here.

 

So, I am working on my Sweethaven series for Guideposts. Writing Book Two when all of the sudden my edits come in for Book One. (It's a 3-book series.)

So I panic and drop everything to edit Book One, but no matter how diligent I am, it's always a race to the finish line. (Isn't that always the way??)

This is round three of edits on this book and I am getting a first-rate education in the massive amount of work it takes to write a novel. This ain't for the faint of heart, people.

And yes, I DO know "ain't ain't a word."

When Mama's on deadline...little boys swipe girlie hats and wear them to the bus stop...

 
They aren't proud about it. They like the soft feel of the girlie hat on their Hobbit Hair.

When Mama's on deadline...Little girls fall asleep listening to Mommy's Ipod...cross-legged and wrapped in a sweater.

 
Too good not to photograph.

I mean, who sleeps like this?

 
My belly would be cold.

Well, I would never let my belly hang out like that. I don't want to frighten my husband.

When Mama's on deadline...

Daddy does the boy's hair. And the boys don't get haircuts. It's just hair chaos I tell you.

 
And they don't care.

And neither do I.

 
La-la-la.

The back yard is a shambles...

 

Cause Mama's on deadline.

And we eat out more than usual. Typically, we only eat out once a week... unless Mama's on deadline.

Then we eat out, well, more than once a week...And we leave the leftovers on the table.

 
In case someone wants to nibble at them hours later.

When Mama's on deadline, the kids find great ways to entertain themselves. Like art.

 
Masterpiece. I'm thinkin' prodigy.

They always clean up after themselves so nicely.

 
So eager to help, ya know...cause Mama's on deadline.

I'm still on deadline for Book Two, but knowing I finished that edit makes me want to jump up and down and scream.

But...that's not happening anytime soon...

Cause this Mama has a house to clean!!

Happy Friday, friends. :)

Creativity and The French Nest

This weekend, I had the chance to go to The French Nest. I was going to go with my sweet friend Jeanne, but she had far too much beautiful stuff to make for her shop. She just listed all of it this morning and it's all beautiful! I bought a bracelet/cuff and I cannot wait to get it.

When Jeanne couldn't come with me, I almost didn't go (have I told you about my social anxiety before?) Adam forbade me to spend all day Saturday working, and I am so, so glad I have a husband who knows me so well.

 
It was the perfect day for an outdoor market. Sophia and I went together, and it was a wonderful morning together. So much beauty and creativity all in one place.

 

This market is in Old Town Fort Collins every month from May-October. This past weekend was the last one of the year. I am sad for that, but so so happy I went. I was so inspired.

 
But it got me thinking about all the different forms of creativity that are out there. Booths run by artists, jewelry makers, knitters, women who made handbags or quilts decorated the park.

So many different mediums we can choose to express ourselves. So many mediums I've never tried. I've settled on writing, but does that mean all I can do is write? What about all the people who swear they aren't creative? What would it take to prove to them that they are?

  
  

Creativity is so intensely personal, but I do believe there are some similiarities from person to person. It's got me up at night thinking...

What do you do to express yourself? Does working with one medium get boring? Do you need a new medium to challenge you? What keeps you from being creative? Time? Money? Space? All of the above?
 

I'm really curious about other people's creative processes, so I hope you'll share. Mine is in a bit of limbo right now so I've got time to ponder. And if you don't think you're creative, why not? Would a trip to the outdoor market change your mind or make you feel inferior?

What if you saw this little gem as part of the decor in one of the booths?
 

Then you'd be hooked, right?

I am. And I'm hooked on creativity.

Up at night thinking...

Life is good.

Sophia left me a note on the fridge.

It surprised me yesterday as I went in looking for my coffee creamer.

After all, how many nine year olds are so profound?

Maybe all of them. I wouldn't know seeing's how I only live with the one.

And thank Jesus for that.

You DO gotta love life.

It's GOOD.

• Crisp fall days with the smell of fallen leaves and sunshine.  
• Mountains as the backdrop of my life.
• A husband who is dying to join a Scrabble club even though he knows it's kinda nerdy. I think he secretly wants to throw down. I think he should go. Embrace his inner nerd. :)
• Chick-fil-a fruit and Chargrilled Chicken Salads for 6 points (Thanks, Carrie!)
• Deep breaths.
• Progress on my edits.
• Sophia at her first ever Colorado play date
• Long conversations with my best friend who lives 16 hours away in South Dakota.
• Finally getting to the post office with NINE packages to mail! (Just call me the Mail Fairy.) Or call me Princess. Or Queen. I really answer to anything that suggests royalty.
• Going out for gelato and a chick flick with my new Colorado friend Ali.
• Finding out that God doesn't live in a church. He lives in my heart. He's ready to meet me anywhere.
• Taking the morning off.
• Mascara
• Sam's recounting of his dream last night. "There was a cloud. It came into my bedroom. It smelled like fruit snacks!"

So much I am thankful for.

 

So much that makes my life good.

 

So much history to explore, like this generator, the only thing left after a massive flood in 1976 that went right through the park we visited last week...I think it's amazing and beautiful in its own way.
 

That's how high the water went...
 

Thankful it didn't happen when we were there. :)

How about you...what makes your life GOOD?

The Creative Process

Creativity is this strange, intensely personal thing. What stirs creativity in one person might paralyze another. For years, I've spent time trying to pattern my own creative process after the prcoesses of others.

Why?

I've learned--and am learning--that what works for one person is not going to work for me.

Writing is no different. Some people outline every plot point, every story arc, every nit-picky detail of their book. Other people get a basic idea or a title or a character that sort of pops to life in their mind and they just go. Seat of the pants style.

I'm somewhere in between. And so far, different with every book. What worked in my first book isn't working in my second book. It's downright maddening, if I'm honest.

I've paid attention to the uber creative man who happens to live in this house with me and I've learned something strange about HIS creative process too. Of course, it makes me jealous, but I'll tell ya anyway. He's got himself figured out.

Recently he was asked to submit a song for a project. If it were me, I would've come home that day, wrote the song then spent the next three weeks making myself nuts tweaking it, right up until deadline day. But he didn't do that. He gets an assignment and sort of sits on it, like a chicken on an egg. He lets it incubate. Then, one morning, he wakes up at 5 a.m. and writes the whole dang thing.

Just. Like. That.

But he trusts his creative process.

Part of my creative process is to abandon the medium I'm spending most of my time in. Not necessarily abandon it, but definitely depart from it.

Do something else. Something to exercise other creative muscles.

I admit, I didn't know how I would do this living here, in this rental, without my STUFF surrounding me. Everything is packed. I have no "studio". But when you need a creative outlet, you find it. Somehow.

In my case, at the kitchen table.

 
I dragged all my paints in from the garage, ran up the local scrapbook store (which conincidentally is right down the street) and I painted a bird I found waiting for me on a sheet of Crate Paper. I changed her up a little bit, but she's strongly inspired by the art of the patterned paper.

 
I painted just for the fun of painting, which is different than writing on a deadline. In that case, you need your creativity to meet you when you sit down with a blank page. Oddly enough, I find that when I fill my creative tank with non-writing activities, something amazing happens.

My mind is clear. Uncluttered. I want to write.

 

I like to work a really inspirational quote into my whimsical little, looks-like-a-kid-painted-it paintings. (I do realize I'm no Picasso. Have I mentioned before that I don't really care?)

This quote spoke to me, though all I could think of was poor, tortured Sylvia Plath, who must've been full of self-doubt to kill herself the way she did. Doesn't make her words any less true though, does it?

So what is the point of all my blubbering?

Sometimes you have to stop working so hard to be creative and just let it be. Let pictures move around in your mind. Let them fall together like checkers in a Connect 4 gameboard.

Honor your creativity. Give it a place. You deserve it.

I talked about this in my Big Picture Scrapbooking Class. Permission to live a Creative Life.

It's not frivolous. It's necessary.

I know this is my soapbox, but it's something that's so important to. Because saying that being creative is frivolous negates everything I've set out to achieve in my life.

And I guess I'm searching for a little validation or something.

What about you? What opens the creative floodgates for you? Do you find it hard to take time for yourself to do something creative? Would love to hear where everyone else stands on this!

 

Creative Tank

I have an ongoing struggle, mostly a struggle in my own mind, but it effects the little people I live with, so I suppose it's worth mentioning.

I am a person driven by deadlines. I love them. I live for them. I thrive on them. I used to say I thrived on stress, but the older I've gotten the more I realize that's just not true. It's not the stress I love, it's feeling I've completed something at the end of the day. Something that I can be proud of.

 

But sometimes I need a reminder that it's really not about what I've accomplished for the day so much as how I've spent the minutes I've been given. And working on something like a novel or a freelance assignment is, in my opinion, a perfectly wonderful way to spend the day.

But I have this tendency to live the same day over and over--maybe because I like this day--I like the familiarity of doing the same thing every day... until, one day, I don't.

I get antsy. I need to change my scenery.

Or someone insists on changing it for me.

That's what happened the other day when Adam did a video shoot at a park near his work. "You've got to see this place," he said. "Let's go tonight after work."

I glanced at the schedule I'd already laid out for the day. My menu. My after school plan. My work! He said, "Come on, we never do anything like this. Colorado Courtney wants to go."

I admit, I went begrudgingly...until I saw the park.

 
We don't have parks like this in Illinois. (That reminds me of that line in A Chorus Line where she says "We don't have bobsleds in San Juan." Does anyone have any idea what I'm talking about?)

The trip to the park turned out to be exactly what I needed. I loved experimenting with my camera (or I did until Adam said "You're hindering their play" then I sort of skulked about trying to capture my kids without anyone knowing.

  

You've already seen how my Hobbit pictures turned out, so let's not add insult to injury by rehashing THAT fiasco. I'll concentrate on the children I've properly trained to smile at the camera.

 
 

And as we explored the freezing cold waters of the river running through the center of the park, I started to think about that creative gas tank...the one that starts to run on fumes if I never change up my days or do somtehing new.

How do you create new characters and new stories when all you're doing is sitting in the house?

 
But more importantly, I started to realize that my deadlines are equal parts wonderful little helpers and evil darts that shoot into my back when I'm not looking. They aren't the most important thing. The promise of productivity isn't the only reason to wake up in the morning.

...and I admit, that's a tough pill for me to swallow.  

I like to check things off my list. I like to get things done. I like to spend my Saturday mornings cleaning so I can spend my Saturday evenings basking in the scent of bleach. It sets me on target for the upcoming week, which will inevitably be spent at my desk or in a chair, editing or writing.

I think it's part of the curse of loving your work. You want to do it all the time. I was the same way when I scrapbooked into the wee hours of the night, basking in the quiet of the office I could never call a "studio" for fear of sounding pretentious. (To who, I'm not sure, but apparently all those mind-readers I know might think I'm trying to be hoity toity if I call it a studio...even the word evokes a pleasant sigh after it's been spoken. STUDIO. aaahhhhhh.....)

Colorado Courtney doesn't care. She would give her left hip to have a room to call a studio.

(Course this wouldn't exactly be a fair trade-off considering that my left hip has been giving me all kinds of trouble lately...)

Adam puts up with it. Kind of.

 

Mostly he humors me. He doesn't understand my insane attachment to deadlines and wonders why I put them on everything. Even housework and phone calls. He calls it nagging. I call it "Being a walking date book..." You'd think he'd find it in his heart to thank me every once in awhile for keeping HIM on task... but no.

I mostly get eye rolls. And laughter.

 
I guess it all comes down to this. Moving to a place that is known for being peaceful doesn't guarantee instant peace.

I have to create the life I want.

And the life I want isn't ONLY about deadlines. It's about balance.  
Sticking our toes in the water. Watching something other than Max and Ruby, putting the deadlines on the shelf for a few hours to get outside and soak in the ridiuculously good weather.

 
Teaching the kids to follow the peace.

To create the life they want.

To live for the moments that stop their heart.

 
They can't do that if it's never modeled for them.  

I am a work in progress. I am learning every day that I'm alive...I go to bed thinking about all the things I should've done that day. My list is only half-finished. But when I wake up the next day, I realize it's all still there, still waiting for me.

And some days, it's okay to set it aside to just be.

 
And yes, sometimes I have to remind myself that that is enough reason to feel loved.

Simply because I am...

 
Even though I'm not perfect. Even though there are things that I swear will forever be on my to-do list. Even though I can't possibly do everything on my list every single day.

 
I am learning.

And Adam is saying "I told you so."

 

Because he's sick of my lists and my rules for myself.

And at this moment, I'm a little sick of them too.

Blog Question for Blog Readers

A bit of 'off the top of my head random' for today.

I have a question for people who read blogs. (That means YOU.) 

I am hoping you'll respond via the comments because I really need some answers here.

As a writer, I do a lot of reading about marketing yourself and the use of blogs and websites and this sort of thing. One bit of advice I keep hearing over and over is that your blog should be focused on one topic in order to draw an audience who will come back over and over again. (To which I respond... "What is this FOCUS of which you speak?")

I understand that point. There are writing blogs I read regularly and I like home decorating blogs and artsy blogs, but I can't get myself to believe that this is the ONLY way to do it.

Some of the most popular blogs I know of, often read, often commented on, are ones that explore a bevy (I'm highlighting that word because I like it.) of topics--motherhood, faith, art, reading, photography, recipes, home decor, fitness... a little bit of everything. These are my favorite blogs. I love to see what people are up to, what's working for them, how they're spending their weekends. Perhaps it's a little voyeuristic, (Translation: WEIRD.) and I really hope not, but I love to see how people live.

I'm curious what you think? Would you prefer a blog to be focused on one topic? What if that topic didn't particularly interest you...you'd leave right? Why read a blog about photography if you aren't a photographer? Is it the topic you're coming to see or the person?

Call this market research, but please, weigh in on this one. As I begin to dive into this whole writing a novel thing, I'm learning a LOT...but this is one area I just haven't wrapped my brain around yet, so your help is greatly appreciated. (I say that like I've wrapped my brain around a bunch of the other areas. Ha. I'll just go ahead and let you think so.)

Your answers may be recorded for training purposes.

Now, because I can't NOT post a couple of photos, I would like to share with you my sad attempt to snap a nice photo of my Hobbit.

Feel my pain, friends.

 
 
(No wonder he has a lisp.)

 

 

 

I've taught him to use the bathroom on his own, but we just haven't mastered this "smiling for the camera" thing. At. All.)

 
That's what he thinks of my camera, I think.

 
I started to wonder..."Where is he learning this? Who is modeling this behavior?"

 
Got my answer.

All this and I only got ONE decent shot... (meaning, one frame-able shot... I think the ones above are decent in that they make me laugh, capture his personality and would be awesome on a scrapbook page... but in terms of decorating the wall...eh, not so much.)

I think I sort of caught him by surprise on this one which is why it's good, I imagine.

 
Now, to help you kick off your weekend. I leave you wtih this.

Which got me through the elliptical this morning, started our family dance party last night and will undoubtedly continue to entertain us for at least a few weeks.

 

 

My Review of Chasing Lilacs

There's something about a great book. A story to pull you in and make you forget the world around you. There's something about being transported back in time to a place where things are simpler, but somehow are anything but.

When I first purchased Carla Stewart's book Chasing Lilacs, I intended to read it immediately.

 
But then life got in the way. When life is crazy, you'd think I would cling to a good story--especially when my own reality is so confusing. But I wasn't really afforded any extra time during our move. So, I had to put it on the shelf and wait.

I packed all my books together in a few boxes. One for books I've yet to read. One for books I've already finished. I packed Chasing Lilacs in my purse. I didn't want to lose it. I knew it would be a special book.

Before last month, I didn't know Carla. She and I have the same agent and I've communicated with her over email, so I knew I would love her. And when I met her, I discovered I was right. This woman with her soft southern accent, amazed me with her kindness.

 
A funny thing happens when you go to a writer's conference, you leave inspired. Not only to write, but also to read. For it's the love of words that pulls us all together in the first place.

About a week ago, I decided I'd return to Chasing Lilacs. It sat on my nightstand and called to me, almost audibly. "I have a story to tell you," it said. "And you're going to love it."

Each night last week, I'd open it up, intending to only read a chapter--maybe two. And each night, I'd stay up much too late, wanting to find out more about Sammie Tucker's story. To be honest, when I first started reading, I wondered how a book told from a twelve-year-old's point of view would captivate me. I don't even remember being twelve. Still, somehow, after the first chapter, I needed to know what happened to Sammie. I needed to know how a girl lived in a tiny Texas town with a suicidal mother. I needed to discover what it was like to grow up in the world of Ovaltine, neighborhood secrets and shiny new Edsels. I couldn't wait to uncover her story, layer by layer, and in a lot of ways, I sort of fell in love with the world of Chasing Lilacs.

Carla's attention to detail and the vivid imagery of her word pictures had me reading portions of the book out loud to my husband. She didn't just tell me the story, she picked me up and placed me in the world of Graham Camp, Texas. I came along on Sammie's adventures. I hung out with her and her best friend Tuwana. I seethed every time her Aunt Vadine came around with her Juicy Fruit and her bad intentions.

I don't want to tell you much about this book because I've come to realize that reading is sometimes better when you don't have any idea what's going to happen when you crack open that book, inhale the whiff of the pages, admire the font for a brief second and then immerse yourself into the world that's waiting for you. I could give you a synopsis, but I'd rather tell you that this is a brilliant coming of age story. I'd rather explain that although you aren't likely a 12-year-old, Sammie Tucker will steal your heart.

The other amazing thing about reading a book written by someone you know is that you expect to hear their voice. Carla has a distinct way of speaking, especially to a Yankee. My ear is tuned to her drawl, fascinated by the way she speaks. I can honestly tell you that I didn't hear "Carla" in this book. Don't get me wrong, as a writer, she has a powerful voice, but when I read this, I only heard Sammie.

If you love a great story, I strongly recommend this book. It's honest. It's thoughtful. It's powerful, and you will love every word.

 
Well, done, Carla.

I cannot wait for your next book!

Gaping Smiles

Well, huh.

 
Little buddy lost his front tooth.

'Bout time. He IS seven. I was starting to worry since my niece, who is almost an entire year younger than Ethan (to the day) has lost both of her front teeth, but Ethan's proving he won't reach adulthood with his baby teeth.

 
I gotta say, this kid can walk around with a tooth hanging by a thread longer than anyone I know. I mean, he turned it around completely just to gross me out, but still it hung on for dear tooth life.

Nastiness. Something about teeth gives me the heebs.

I couldn't even try and pull it out. I just kept yelling "Go pull that thing!" and "You're so gross!"

Which only made him want to do it more.

 
The only reason I'm really blogging about it is to remind the Tooth Fairy she needs to show up tonight. On time and not all sneaky-like in the morning.

In case you haven't heard, we have a really crummy Tooth Fairy.

And some pretty whacked lost-tooth experiences dating way back.

Here's hoping she can deliver the goods!

Paris Street Market

When we headed out to Colorado, Adam and I took on this new attitude...we've been all about doing things we've never (or rarely) done before. So far, we've racked up quite a list, including but not limited to:

• Eating outdoors on a restaurant patio
• Hiking in the mountains
• Moving across the country (or at least the middle of it)
• Adding running to my walks because I don't care if I see anyone (I won't know them anyway!)
• Stepping out of my comfort zone to make tons of phone calls (it's a little thing, but it's big to me)
• Sitting outside in our backyard in the evening playing and watching the sun go down
• Going for long walks as a family and panicking when one child steps into oncoming traffic (oddly, we haven't gone since that happened...)

There are more but I can't think of them. My point is, we've been saying a lot of "This is Colorado Courtney now..." as if that's instantly supposed to make me bolder and braver. Or at least more willing to walk outside the house...

I've never been to a street market. I've been to a flea market once and made my best friend Mindy do all the talking. (I got a great (GREAT) old typewriter and then couldn't find a place for it in my house. I gave it to my mom and now secretly want it to be my Christmas present.

But it really does look far better in her home than it would in mine.

Anyway. My friend Jeanne told me about this street fair and I knew I wanted to go...

 

While we were there, we ran into Shamanie, Jeanne's neighbor and friend and someone I think I would love to hang out with. Yes, we're holding that freshly made kettle corn that is the perfect blend of salty and sweet, though I confess it's those super sweet kernels that keep me going back for more...that and our freshly squeeze lemonade made the perfect mid-morning snack.

The street market was new to me, and I truly was just browsing since I'm in a rental and don't want to decorate this house so much as deal with it...

But I was inspired.

Inspired by old windows with chippy paint...

 

Salvaged wood creations like this adorable house...

 

And stacks of artwork to whet your creative appetite...

 

It filled up my creative tank, just being there, seeing the mesh of colors and the way people turned their creative energy into something tangible like a pillow or an apron or a quilt.

The very first booth we went in held the best treasure. Buried on a quilt rack, I found this:

 

Frayed edges, soft, worn fabric, delightfully lightweight with colors that made me gasp.

I knew it would be too much money.

In true Illinois-Courtney fashion, I had Jeanne ask the woman for the price. When she told us it was $40, we both gasped and Jeanne said "If you don't get it, I'm going to."

I knew it was a good deal, and while I really wasn't in the market for a new quilt, I couldn't pass it up. It made me so happy.

 

I now use it every single night as the Colorado air turns from toasty warm to breezy cool. With the windows open I can put on a sweatshirt and curl up underneath this happy blanket and read or have a couch date with Adam. It was definitely a good buy. Now I want more of them. I'd like to start a collection. Not necessarily big heavy quilts, but light, worn ones like mine.

And while I can't be certain where this quilt came from, I like to imagine its frayed edges and torn lining mean it has a history. A story. Perhaps quilted by a new grandmother or passed down when its creator moved from this life into the next.

Regardless, I am so happy I bought it. And so happy I went to the street market.

This month there's one here in Fort Collins and I've already got it on my calendar! Sometimes, I'm finding, doing things I've never done before is absolutely the best idea in the world.

Especially if I get to go with these girls...

 

what'chu workin' with?

I have a couple of deadlines next week that I need to get cracking on, namely edits for Book One in my Sweethaven series... so I thought for today I'd keep this short and sweet.

I just wanted to give you a tiny hint of what I'm working with over here.

 
I think it just really captures their personalities.

 
Don't you?

Brings to mind that old Sesame Street song "one of these things is not like the other..."

 
I admit I laughed out loud when this popped up on my computer because this is just SO HIM.

Feisty little hobbit, isn't he?

Other bits of randomness.

1. I'm trying to keep the weekend for PLAY and not for WORK. Not gonna happen this weekend. (But I love my work, so I'm good with that.)

2. I need a good desk chair. This little cheap-o one is killing my back. (Or, if you've got 'em, tips on sitting for a long period of time without having it hurt your back.)

3. Sam keeps getting nosebleeds. Yesterday I found four drips of blood on the kitchen floor and could not for the life of me figure out where they came from.

4. I turn 35 in 3 months. I'm feeling an insane amount of pressure to set some new goals for myself. I feel like 35 is the beginning of a new life. What kind of life do I want that to be?

5. I'm considering going back to Michigan for a little inspiration for my novels. They are set in a beach town there, and I haven't been in a few years. Plus, I'm starting to love traveling.

6. I'm such a dork I get excited when I get new emails...even when they are notifications that I've left my own self a comment on my blog (usually in response to someone else, but still)... This is a pathetic thing to admit, but it's true.

7. It kinda burns me up that my favorite photo of Colorado so far is one that Adam took WITH HIS PHONE.

 
(New blog banner?)

8. I really don't have anything else but feel like I should end on an even number, so there ya have it.

Wishing you a beautiful weekend of PLAY!