Guest Blogger - Sarah Eiden's Article: "New Plans For Your New Year - Reviewing Your Business and Setting Goals"

New Plans For Your New Year - Reviewing Your Business and Setting Goals

By Sarah Eiden

For many who work from home, the fall/holiday season is when their biggest sales are made. You'll be busy servicing customers... but after the holidays bustle, take some time for a work from home retreat.

As the new year approaches, it is a great time to re-evaluate your business plans. Taking time now to look at your home business and set goals can help your business blossom in the coming year.

Ask yourself -

- Why are you in business?

- What is actually making you money? DO MORE of it!

- What is going well in your business?

- What needs change?

- What level of success do you want to accomplish?

- What baby steps will you take to get there?

- Are there "time wasters" that are eating into the time you can be focusing on making money?

Please do not just read through these questions and do the "yeah, yeah". You are investing in yourself. Take the time to write down your answers.

Write down your New Year's Goals.

Give yourself & business the gift of time (how ever much you are able to take). Depending on your situation, maybe your business review will be time during a child's nap. Perhaps your children are in school and you have the day. Whatever your situation, take the time to get business-focused.

Other ideas for your Work at home Retreat:

- take that long needed bath or nap

- find a cozy place to write out the answers to business focus plans and goals

- choose one book that will help you take steps in your business and read it.

- sip away on your favorite beverage.

- take yourself out to lunch at your favorite coffee shop or bistro. Where appropriate, bring product samples, you never know who you might bump in to.

Take time for you.

Take time for your business.

Set your goals & ring in the New Year!

Sarah teaches others how to start and grow their own home-based candle business. [http://www.start-a-candle-business.com]

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Sarah_Eiden

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/372940

All Bets Are On

This is possibly the final draft for the genre contest - any last minute feedback?

I stretched as I stood up from my seat on the small aircraft owned by The Manitowoc Company. I was accustomed to the short flights between Michigan and Wisconsin. This particular flight was a bit longer and I was cramped and uncomfortable. I was eager to sit down with my older brother and tell him about my upcoming date with the pretty, young, girl from the greasy spoon. We had arranged it before I left and I hadn’t had time to share the news. I grabbed my things off the plane, thanked pilot Joe and headed for my car.

I opened the heavy door of my 1972 Chevelle SS. She was the first automobile I had purchased new and the smell of leather hit my nose immediately bringing a smile to my face. She was ascott blue with white wall tires and a she didn’t blow smoke or rattle down the road like the cars I’d had before her. I had worked for The Manitowoc Company for a decade and last year they went public. I didn’t much care about all of that business stuff, but when the first dividends were paid, I called my old high school buddy who owned a Chevrolet dealership and I ordered myself a new car using the dividend as my down payment. I didn’t own a home, but I felt like a millionaire after signing on the dotted line. I could hardly believe that it was 1972 and so was my car!

I stopped to take in the beauty of this car, her sleek lines, the rich color of her paint, and then turned slowly and sauntered to the trunk. No one was around and I was so enamored by the beauty of the SS. As I opened the trunk, I felt confident, a man and his car. The engine roared to life and we were soon on the road headed to my Brother Donald’s house in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. Donald’s wife Carol was fretting about my being single and was happy to cook me a meal and do my laundry when I got in from these weekly business trips. It was enjoyable to spend time with Carol and Donald and their family. The house was filled with noise, laughter, and it had warmth to it. My apartment was above a bar; I chuckled at the comparison.

“What is this?” Donald was asking Carol in a raised voice when I came through the side door. I chuckled despite myself; I was very familiar with these arguments and I recognized the Simplicity pattern in Donald’s hand as he shook it in frustration at his sweet wife. This was pattern 5318 and apparently it was called ‘Bikini Pants & Bell Bottoms’ and Donald wasn’t having his 16 year old daughter wearing anything with the word ‘bikini’ in it. He couldn’t believe Carol had spent an entire dollar on something so foolish. Carol was trying to explain that the pattern couldn’t be returned and bikini only referred to where the pants rested on Mary’s hips. Donald was not interested in discussing his daughter’s hips and they all looked quite relieved at the distraction that I created as I dropped my bags on the floor of their kitchen.

“Charles – it’s so good to see you. Can I get you a drink?” asked Carol as she firmly hugged me. I couldn’t turn her down and agreed to a martini on the rocks and my brother joined me. I greeted the children who were busy discussing the new shows they wanted to see at either the Mikadow or Lakeview Drive in Theater the following weekend. Mary wanted to see ‘Pay it Again, Sam” and Terry wanted to see “The Godfather” while their youngest sister, Holly, just wanted to be included in whatever they  were so animated about. “Do you kids know that Uncle Charles worked at a theater here in Two Rivers when he was your age?”  Donald asked the children to get their attention. They quickly gathered around as I explained: “Your dad is telling the truth, that was my first job. You kids know where Evans Department store is, well that was the Rivoli. I worked the late shift and was responsible for cleaning and making sure that everyone was out at night before we locked up. I’ve seen the second half of most movies shown in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. Don’t laugh; I had the biggest crush on Ethel Merman after hearing her sing and seeing those long eyelashes in Irving Berlin’s Call Me Madam. I even went back on my day off to watch the entire show; she was a knockout!”

“Supper is ready.” called Carol (just in time, I was struggling not to mention my love of large breasts). Story time was over and the children groaned. I was still smiling at the good times I’d had (the smell of buttery popcorn, and the silly antics of my friends – ahhh the memories). “Where do you want me?” I asked Carol as I gave her a wink. She always saved me the best seat at the head of the table opposite my oldest brother. This made it easy for sibling banter. She gave me a smile as she pointed to my usual seat. Carol was a great hostess and had a fresh martini and a glass of water already waiting at my spot.

“Well Donald, what did I miss?” I usually began this way. Donald was happy to fill me in on the local happenings and he wasn’t jealous like some. Donald had traveled out of the country as a pilot in the Air Force. He was content with his factory job, family life, and was relieved to sleep beside the same woman each night. He went on about recent orders at the factory, the new houses going up on the North side of town, and the family news about our little sister who was expecting her third child. We chatted casually while enjoying Carol’s meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and some steamed carrots. It was nights like these that made the drive across town to my small apartment most difficult. Nights like this were a reminder that I was alone. I was a bit lonely.

“Charles, now that I’ve caught you up on everything around here, it’s your turn. Don’t you dare tell me about Nixon becoming president or that silly blimp; I want to know what’s new with YOU!” I guess I couldn’t argue with that. I had responded sarcastically a few too many times and he was onto me. This time I did have something worth talking about.  I told them about the adorable young waitress I had stumbled upon when having a cup of coffee at the greasy spoon right here in our own home town “You’ve been to Arvy’s Restaurant downtown Donald. Do you remember seeing that young blonde with the ice blue eyes?” Donald had never found a blonde to be the least bit attractive so I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her. I went on to explain that her name was Elizabeth (Bet for short) and that she had agree to go to dinner with me this weekend. Donald didn’t seem interested. Carol was excited at the possibility of my settling down locally and starting a family.

“How much do you know about her Charles?” Carol inquired. I explained that she was originally from somewhere in the upper peninsula of Michigan and she had recently moved here to find some long lost relatives. She was a bit younger than me (actually, she was 15 years younger, but I claimed not to know her exact age since it likely wouldn’t go over well) and she drove a motorcycle. That sure got everyone’s attention. Riding motorcycles was cool if you were a man, and I could tell from the ten eyes looking at me in dismay that not one of them were impressed that I was going on a date with a motorcycle driving woman. I had the feeling Donald was picturing the model on the front of Simplicity pattern 5318 with her bikini pants and bell bottoms.

“Oh Charles.” Carol sighed. “I had so hoped that you would find a nice lady, get married, and settle down … does this um … what’s her name? Elizabeth? Seem like the marrying and settling down type?” I reminded my lovely sister in law that this was a first date and that I was one of the town’s most notorious confirmed bachelors. I had no intention of settling down and I was sure that this young blonde with the curvy figure, bouncy hair, and motorcycle had no intention of anything of the sort either. She hadn’t even told me where she lived, she insisted I give her my address so she could meet me out front of my place and we could walk to dinner. I had sensed she was overly cautious if anything. I visited for a while longer, collected the clothes I had dropped off the week before, and headed back the two miles to my apartment. I thanked my brother and sister in law, but didn’t stay as long as usual. I was hoping that if I left early I would avoid the inquisition about Elizabeth.

The SS was waiting outside; I skillfully slid behind the wheel after placing my clean clothes over the back of the passenger seat and putting my bag in the trunk. Carol was an amazing woman. She worked and managed to iron every piece of cloth and clothing in her own home as well as my things. Donald told me she ironed their bed sheets, bath towels, and of course I knew she ironed underwear since mine were always pressed when I picked up my laundry. No wonder all the girls in town wanted to date me, I really looked dapper with my clothes so neatly cared for. Carol had also took over shopping for me, so my clothes were fashionable and she found an imported cologne at the drug store that made me smell foreign and mysterious. I was hoping Elizabeth would at least find me intriguing, if not mysterious. I laughed to myself at the thought. I was nervous about this date. I hadn’t been nervous with any of the other girls. There was just something about her ice blue eyes that made my toes tingle.

Back at my apartment, I settled in. I took my shoes off at the door, hung up my laundry, made myself the final martini of the evening, and relaxed on the floral print couch that had conveniently come with the apartment.  I looked around to make sure this would meet with feminine approval, just in case Elizabeth came in before or after our date. Northing was new, but everything was well taken care of, tidy, and orderly. It would do – and who was I trying to impress anyway? She didn’t seem like a prude, but it was highly unlikely we would end up here. I closed my eyes and imagined what we would do if things got romantic.

… knock …

… knock …

“Who is it?” I woke with a start and glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning; my drink was still in my hand (except the ice cubes which had melted hours ago). The glass made a thud as I set it on the end table. I headed to the door and thought I was dreaming. She had tears in her eyes and her shirt was clinging to her youthful breasts. She was shivering and cold and quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I had laid eyes on. It took a moment to confirm that I was awake and this wasn’t some sort of vodka induced illusion. It really was Elizabeth at the door and something was obviously wrong but my heart said something was oh so right … I invited her in and poured her a drink. 

All Bets Are On

Genre Contest - Take II (and now we have a name)...what do you think?

I stretched as I stood up from my seat on the small aircraft owned by The Manitowoc Company. I was accustomed to the short flights between Michigan and Wisconsin. This particular flight was a bit longer and I was cramped and uncomfortable. I was eager to sit down with my older brother and tell him about my upcoming date with the pretty, young, girl from the greasy spoon. We had arranged it before I left and I hadn’t had time to share the news. I grabbed my things off the plane, thanked pilot Joe and headed for my car.

I opened the heavy door of my 1972 Chevelle SS. She was the first automobile I had purchased new and the smell of leather hit my nose immediately bringing a smile to my face. She was ascott blue with white wall tires and a she didn’t blow smoke or rattle down the road like the cars I’d had before her. I had worked for The Manitowoc Company for a decade and last year they went public. I didn’t much care about all of that business stuff, but when the first dividends were paid, I called my old high school buddy who owned a Chevrolet dealership and I ordered myself a new car using the dividend as my down payment. I didn’t own a home, but I felt like a millionaire after signing on the dotted line. I could hardly believe that it was 1972 and so was my car!

I stopped to take in the beauty of this car, her sleek lines, the rich color of her paint, and then turned slowly and sauntered to the trunk. No one was around and I was so enamored by the beauty of the SS. As I opened the trunk, I felt confident, a man and his car. The engine roared to life and we were soon on the road headed to my Brother Donald’s house in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. Donald’s wife Carol fretting about my being single and was happy to cook me a meal and do my laundry when I got in from these weekly business trips. It was enjoyable to spend time with Carol and Donald and their family. The house was filled with noise, laughter, and it had warmth to it. My apartment was above a bar; I chuckled at the comparison.

“What is this?” Donald was asking Carol in a raised voice when I came through the side door. I chuckled despite myself; I was very familiar with these arguments and I recognized the Simplicity pattern in Donald’s hand as he shook it in frustration at his sweet wife. This was pattern 5318 and apparently it was called ‘Bikini Pants & Bell Bottoms’ and Donald wasn’t having his 16 year old daughter wearing anything with the word ‘bikini’ in it. He couldn’t believe Carol had spent an entire dollar on something so foolish. Carol was trying to explain that the pattern couldn’t be returned and bikini only referred to where the pants rested on Mary’s hips. Donald was not interested in discussing his daughter’s hips and they all looked quite relieved at the distraction that I created as I dropped my bags on the floor of their kitchen.

“Charles – it’s so good to see you. Can I get you a drink?” asked Carol as she firmly hugged me. I couldn’t turn her down and agreed to a martini on the rocks and my brother joined me. I greeted the children who were busy discussing the new shows they wanted to see at either the Mikadow the Lakeview Drive in Theater the following weekend. Mary wanted to see ‘Pay it Again, Sam” and Terry wanted to see “The Godfather” while their youngest sister, Holly, just wanted to be included in whatever they  were so animated about. “Do you kids know that Uncle Charles worked at a theater here in Two Rivers when he was your age?”  Donald asked the children to get their attention. They quickly gathered around as I explained: “Your dad is telling the truth, that was my first job. You kids know where Evans Department store is,, well that was the Rivoli. I worked the late shift and was responsible for cleaning and making sure that everyone was out at night before we locked up. I’ve seen the second half of most movies shown in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. Don’t laugh; I had the biggest crush on Ethel Merman after hearing her sing and seeing those long eyelashes in Irving Berlin’s Call Me Madam. I even went back on my day off to watch the entire show; she was a knockout!”

“Supper is ready.” called Carol (just in time, I was struggling not to mention my love of large breasts). Story time was over and the children groaned. I was still smiling at the good times I’d had (the smell of buttery popcorn, and the silly antics of my friends – ahhh the memories). “Where do you want me?” I asked Carol as I gave her a wink. She always saved me the best seat at the head of the table opposite my oldest brother. This made it easy for sibling banter. She gave me a smile as she pointed to my usual seat. Carol was a great hostess and had a fresh martini and a glass of water already waiting at my spot.

“Well Donald, what did I miss?” I usually began this way. Donald was happy to fill me in on the local happenings and he wasn’t jealous like some. Donald had traveled out of the country as a pilot in the Air Force. He was content with his factory job, family life, and was relieved to sleep beside the same woman each night. He went on about recent orders at the factory, the new houses going up on the North side of town, and the family news about our little sister who was expecting her third child. We chatted casually while enjoying Carol’s meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and some steamed carrots. It was nights like these that made the drive across town to my small apartment most difficult. Nights like this were a reminder that I was alone. I was a bit lonely.

“Charles, now that I’ve caught you up on everything around here, it’s your turn. Don’t you dare tell me about Nixon becoming president or that silly blimp; I want to know what’s new with YOU!” I guess I couldn’t argue with that. I had responded sarcastically a few too many times and he was onto me. This time I did have something worth talking about.  I told them about the adorable young waitress I had stumbled upon when having a cup of coffee at the greasy spoon right here in our own home town “You’ve been to Arvy’s Restaurant downtown Donald. Do you remember seeing that young blonde with the ice blue eyes?” Donald had never found a blonde to be the least bit attractive so I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her. I went on to explain that her name was Elizabeth (Bet for short) and that she had agree to go to dinner with me this weekend. Donald didn’t seem interested. Carol was excited at the possibility of my settling down locally and starting a family.

“How much do you know about her Charles?” Carol inquired. I explained that she was originally from somewhere in the upper peninsula of Michigan and she had recently moved here to find some long lost relatives. She was a bit younger than me (actually, she was 15 years younger, but I claimed not to know her exact age since it likely wouldn’t go over well) and she drove a motorcycle. That sure got everyone’s attention. Riding motorcycles was cool if you were a man, and I could tell from the ten eyes looking at me in dismay that not one of them were impressed that I was going on a date with a motorcycle driving woman. I had the feeling Donald was picturing the model on the front of Simplicity pattern 5318 with her bikini pants and bell bottoms.

“Oh Charles.” Carol sighed. “I had so hoped that you would find a nice lady, get married, and settle down … does this um … what’s her name? Elizabeth? Seem like the marrying and settling down type?” I reminded my lovely sister in law that this was a first date and that I was one of the town’s most notorious confirmed bachelors. I had no intention of settling down and I was sure that this young blonde with the curvy figure, bouncy hair, and motorcycle had no intention of anything of the sort either. She hadn’t even told me where she lived, she insisted I give her my address so she could meet me out front of my place and we could walk to dinner. I had sensed she was overly cautious if anything. I visited for a while longer, collected the clothes I had dropped off the week before, and headed back the two miles to my apartment. I thanked my brother and sister in law, but didn’t stay as long as usual. I was hoping that if I left early I would avoid the inquisition about Elizabeth.

The SS was waiting outside; I skillfully slid behind the wheel after placing my clean clothes over the back of the passenger seat and putting my bag in the trunk. Carol was an amazing woman. She worked and managed to iron every piece of cloth and clothing in her own home as well as my things. Donald told me she ironed their bed sheets, bath towels, and of course I knew she ironed underwear since mine were always pressed when I picked up my laundry. No wonder all the girls in town wanted to date me, I really looked dapper with my clothes so neatly cared for. Carol had also took over shopping for me, so my clothes were fashionable and she found an imported cologne at the drug store that made me smell foreign and mysterious. I was hoping Elizabeth would at least find me intriguing, if not mysterious. I laughed to myself at the thought. I was nervous about this date. I hadn’t been nervous with any of the other girls. There was just something about her ice blue eyes that made my toes tingle.

Back at my apartment, I settled in. I took my shoes off at the door, hung up my laundry, made myself the final martini of the evening, and relaxed on the floral print couch that had conveniently come with the apartment.  I looked around to make sure this would meet with feminine approval, just in case Elizabeth came in before or after our date. Northing was new, but everything was well taken care of, tidy, and orderly. It would do – and who was I trying to impress anyway? She didn’t seem like a prude, but it was highly unlikely we would end up here. I closed my eyes and imagined what we would do if things got romantic.

… knock …

… knock …

“Who is it?” I woke with a start and glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning; my drink was still in my hand (except the ice cubes which had melted hours ago). The glass made a thud as I set it on the end table. I headed to the door and thought I was dreaming. She had tears in her eyes and her shirt was clinging to her youthful breasts. She was shivering and cold and quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I had laid eyes on. It took a moment to confirm that I was awake and this wasn’t some sort of vodka induced illusion. It really was Elizabeth at the door and something was obviously wrong but my heart said something was oh so right … I invited her in and poured her a drink. 

Genre Contest - Take One

This story needs some tweaking and a name ... it's something I'm working on for the following contest: /http://janiewrites.com/contests/c4we-writing-contest/

Please feel free to provide feedback and ideas. Thanks!

I stretched as I stood up from my seat on the small aircraft owned by The Manitowoc Company. I was accustomed to the short flights between Michigan and Wisconsin. This particular flight was a bit longer and I was cramped and uncomfortable. I was eager to sit down with my family and tell them about my upcoming date with the pretty, young, girl from the greasy spoon. I grabbed my things off the plane, thanked pilot Joe and headed for my car.

I opened the heavy door of my 1972 Chevelle SS. She was the first automobile I had purchased new and the smell of leather hit my nose immediately bringing a smile to my face. She was ascott blue with white wall tires and a she didn’t blow smoke or rattle down the road like the cars I’d had before her. I had worked for The Manitowoc Company for a decade and in 1971 they became a publically traded company. I didn’t much care about all of that business stuff, but when the first dividends were paid, I called my old high school buddy who owned a Chevrolet dealership and I ordered myself a new car using the dividend as my down payment. I didn’t own a home, but I really felt successful when I signed the forms and paperwork. It was hard to wait for her to come off the assembly line.

I glanced around the parking lot to make sure no one had noticed I was just standing there stupefied looking at this car. No one was around. I carefully placed my bags in the trunk and started her up. The engine roared to life and we were soon on the road headed to my Brother Donald’s house in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. Donald’s wife Carol fretting about my being single and was happy to cook me a meal and do my laundry when I got in from these weekly business trips. It was enjoyable to spend time with Carol and Donald and their family. Their home was so different from mine; they had three children. The house was filled with noise, laughter, and it had warmth do it that was foreign to my apartment or the hotel rooms I spent so much time in.

“What is this?” Donald was asking Carol in a raised voice when I came through the side door. I chuckled despite myself; I was very familiar with these arguments and I recognized the Simplicity pattern in Donald’s hand as he shook it in frustration at his sweet wife. This was pattern 5318 and apparently it was called ‘Bikini Pants & Bell Bottoms’ and Donald wasn’t having his 16 year old daughter wearing anything with the word ‘bikini’ in it. He couldn’t believe Carol had spent an entire dollar on something so foolish. Carol was trying to explain that the pattern couldn’t be returned and bikini only referred to where the pants rested on Mary’s hips. Donald was not interested in discussing his daughter’s hips and they all looked quite relieved at the distraction that I created as I dropped my bags on the floor of their kitchen.

“Charles – it’s so good to see you. Can I get you a drink?” asked Carol as she hugged me as if I had been gone for months. Being a gentleman with manners, I couldn’t turn her down and agreed to drink a martini on the rocks if my brother was having one with me. I greeted the children who were busy discussing the new movie they wanted to see at either the Mikadow Theater or the Lakeview Drive in Theater the following weekend. Mary  wanted to see ‘Pay it Again, Sam” and Terry wanted to see “The Godfather” while their youngest sister, Holy, just wanted to be included in whatever her older siblings were talking so animatedly about. “Do you kids know that Uncle Charles worked at a theater here in Two Rivers when he was your age?”  Donald asked the children to get their attention. They quickly gathered around asking me to tell them about it. Your dad is telling the truth, that was my first job. You kids know where Evans Department store is now, well that once was a theater called the Rivoli. I would work the late shift and I was responsible for cleaning the theater and making sure that everyone was out at night before we locked up. Your dear uncle has seen the second half of most movies shown in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. Don’t laugh when I tell you this. I had the biggest crush on Ethel Merman after hearing her voice and seeing those long eyelashes in Irving Berlin’s Call Me Madam. I even went back on my day off to watch the entire show; I really thought she was a knockout!”

“Supper is ready when you are.” called Carol from the kitchen (just in time, I was about to mention how much I loved large breasts). Story time was over and the children groaned. I was still smiling at the memory of Vera-Ellen singing ‘It’s a Lovely Day Today’ and all the good times I’d had (the smell of buttery popcorn, and the silly antics of my friends – ahhh the memories). “Where shall I sit?” I asked Carol as I gave her a wink. She always saved me the best seat at the head of the table opposite my oldest brother. This made it easy for banter and discussion. She gave me a smile as she pointed to my usual seat. Carol was a great hostess and had a fresh martini and a glass of water already waiting when I got to my spot.

“Well Donald, what did I miss? Anything happening?” I usually began our dinners this way. Donald was happy to fill me in on the local happenings and he wasn’t jealous like some. Donald had traveled out of the country as a pilot in the Air Force. He was content with his factory job, family life, and was relieved to sleep beside the same woman each night. He went on to tell me about the recent orders at the factory, the new houses going up on the North side of town, and the family news about our little sister who was expecting her third child. We chatted casually about these things while enjoying Carol’s meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and some steamed carrots. It was nights like these that made me jealous of all the happily married people I knew.

“Charles, now that I’ve caught you up on everything around here, it’s your turn. Don’t you dare tell me about Nixon becoming president or that silly blimp; I want to know what’s new with YOU!” I guess I couldn’t argue with that. I certainly liked to tease, and apparently I had responded sarcastically a few too many times. This time I did have something worth talking about.  I told them about the adorable young waitress I had stumbled upon when having a cup of coffee at the greasy spoon on Washington Street “You’ve been to Arvy’s Restaurant downtown Donald. Do you remember seeing that young blonde with the ice blue eyes?” Donald had never found a blonde to be the least bit attractive so I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her. I went on to explain that her name was Elizabeth (Patty for short) and that she had agree to go to dinner with me this weekend. Donald didn’t seem interested. Carol was excited at the thought of my settling down and possibly starting a family.

“How much do you know about her Charles?” asked Carol concernedly. I explained that she was originally from somewhere in the upper peninsula of Michigan and she had recently moved here to find some long lost relatives. She was a bit younger than me (actually, she was 15 years younger, but I claimed not to know her exact age since it likely wouldn’t go over well) and she drove a motorcycle. That sure got everyone’s attention. Riding motorcycles was cool if you were a man, and I could tell from the ten eyes looking at me in dismay that not one of them were impressed that I was going on a date with a motorcycle driving woman. I had the feeling Donald was picturing the model on the front of Simplicity pattern 5318 with her bikini pants and bell bottoms.

“Oh Charles.” Carol sighed. “I had so hoped that you would find a nice lady, get married, and settle down … does this um … what’s her name? Elizabeth? Seem like the marrying and settling down type?” I reminded my lovely sister in law that this was a first date and that I was one of the town’s most notorious confirmed bachelors. I had no intention of settling down and I was sure that this young blonde with the curvy figure, bouncy hair, and motorcycle had no intention of anything of the sort either. I visited for a while longer, collected the clothes I had dropped off the week before, and headed back to my apartment for the evening. Of course I thanked my brother and sister in law, but I didn’t stay as long as usual. I was hoping that if I left early I would avoid the inquisition about Elizabeth.

The SS was waiting outside; I skillfully slid behind the wheel after placing my clean clothes over the back of the passenger seat and putting my bag in the trunk. Carol was an amazing woman. She worked and managed to iron every piece of cloth and clothing in her own home as well as my things. Donald told me she ironed their bed sheets, bath towels, and of course I knew she ironed underwear since mine were always pressed when I picked up my laundry. No wonder all the girls in town wanted to date me, I really looked dapper with my clothes so neatly cared for. Carol had also took over shopping for me, so my clothes were fashionable and she found an imported cologne at the drug store that made me smell foreign and mysterious. I was hoping Elizabeth would at least find me intriguing, if not mysterious. I laughed to myself at the thought. I was nervous about this date. I hadn’t been nervous with any of the other girls. There was just something about her ice blue eyes that made my toes tingle.

Back at my apartment, I settled in. I took my shoes off at the door, hung up my laundry, made myself the final martini of the evening, and relaxed on the floral print couch that had conveniently come with the apartment when I began renting.  I looked around the apartment to make sure it would meet with feminine approval, just in case Elizabeth came up for a cup of coffee after our date. Northing was new, but everything was well taken care of, tidy, and orderly. It would do – and who was I trying to impress anyway? She didn’t seem like a prude, but it was highly unlikely we would end up here after dinner. I closed my eyes and imagined what we would do if things did go that route.

… knock …

… knock …

“Who is it?” I woke with a start and glanced at the clock. It was 3 in the morning and my drink was still in my hand (except the ice cubes which had melted hours ago). The glass made a thud as I set it on the end table. I headed to the door and thought I was dreaming. Here she was at 3 in the morning, the day before our big date. She had tears in her eyes and her shirt was clinging to her youthful breasts. She was shivering and cold and I couldn’t be an arse, I invited her in and poured her a drink. 

Time to Decide

New Years is a time to reflect, make resolutions, blah blah blah ... but what if it was more than that? What if you could go back and change the past instead of simply changing the future? What if you had magical powers for a day? Better yet, a fairy god mother/father who could help you travel back in time to right a wrong or change the outcome of a difficult situation? Here's a little story about just that ... is there a moral to the story? maybe...but that's for you to decide. Enjoy!

Time to Decide

My throat dry, my eyes felt full of sand, and my head was throbbing. I should blame the Marlboro Lights and the red wine but instead I will blame the son of a gun who promised to love honor and cherish me until death. Dammit Ben, you swore this was happily ever after. Where are you now? You may not care, but I’m staying in some shit hole hotel in the middle of nowhere. I pick up my cell phone to text him something smarmy about today being Christmas day or a happy anniversary since tomorrow should mark our four year wedding anniversary. “Screw it” I said while throwing the phone at the rickety dresser with the peeling paint. Wow, I must have smoked a lot; I think I’ll go back to talking to myself inside my head, this out loud stuff is painful.

“Are you okay beautiful?” said a very sexy male voice from across the room. I can’t believe it. How much did I drink last night? I didn’t really bring home a stranger, did I? Although … score … he’s hot!

“Are you talking to me?” I croaked.

“Of course Crystal. There’s no one else here, is there?”

I look at our shabby surroundings and realize how ridiculous I must have sounded. And what’s worse is I’m sure I smell funky, have mascara under my eyes, and horrible bed head. This gorgeous man has also probably heard me snore, and watched me drool in sleep. How can I gracefully handle such an awkward situation?

“Well … ummm … not to sound daft, but do I know you?”

“Oh sweetie, it’s not at all what you’re thinking. I don’t care about your snoring, the drool, or your hair. And before you ask, we did not have sex last night.”

All the tension flowed right out of me and I relax on the bed and close my eyes trying to remember who this is and how he got here. My eyes flash open and I sit up.

“How did you know what I was thinking and who are you?”

“Just relax. I’ll explain. Do you remember the story of Cinderella? Of course you do. She had a fairy Godmother, and you have me. I’m sort of the same thing. My name is Akal which is a Punjabi name meaning timeless. I can’t turn mice into horses or a pumpkin into a carriage. It is my job to help you change things by altering time; we need to figure out how to save your marriage.

“Akal, that sounds fantastic, but my marriage is hardly worth saving at this point. Even if you are what you say you are, Ben and I are done.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Who the hell is this crack head? Of course it’s not what I want. I stood at the altar of my childhood church and vowed that our love would transcend all time and understanding. I meant every word of those vows. I turned the other cheek when he was unfaithful, I ignored the rude comments and his controlling nature, and I wasn’t the one who wanted this. They say that you can’t fix stupid and when it comes to women, Ben was as stupid as they come. What a cliché – he knocked up his secretary and then he had the audacity to ask me to move out. He screwed up and now I’m the one watching my tears fall onto a cheap polyester comforter at a flea bag hotel while he plays house with that little floosy in the home we built.

“Crystal, is that really what you want?” Akal broke into my thoughts, demanding an answer to his question.

“I don’t know what I want. So much is wrong with our marriage. I don’t know where to begin.”

He crosses the room and takes my hands into his “that’s what I’m here for dear. Together, we will figure this out. How far back in time do you think we need to go to fix things?”

“The beginning” I said sarcastically with a laugh.

“We could do that, but I want you to think long and hard about what will work. Don’t make a hasty choice, because once we’ve changed time, I’ll be gone and you have to live with your decision and there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

I scoffed “what ever happened to the genie in the bottle and three wishes?”

“I’m not a genie and I can see you’re in no mood to make an important decision right now. Make yourself some coffee, take a shower, and think about your options. I’ll be back at three and we can talk more.”

“Okay” I agreed while he sauntered toward the door to leave. I roll over hoping all of this is just a dream or a nightmare or something.

… knock …

… knock …

“housekeeping”

… knock …

… knock …

I groan and roll over. I tell her to go away and call down to the front desk to request another night’s stay. I could honestly afford to live here (not that I want to), since it’s only $29.99 per night and our mortgage was over $900 a month. I smile at the thought of living in this joint. When I checked in, they practically asked if I wanted the room by the hour. My friends from the yacht club would get a kick out of that one. I can practically hear them talking about ‘poor Crystal’ and how she went from being a spoiled society wife to turning tricks to make ends meet. I flop back on the bed in frustration. If only I were tired, I could spend the whole day under the covers.

If this Akal is really all he says he is, how far back should I go? When did things get bad? I grabbed a notebook and pen to think about my options.

1      Our first date (I could kiss him instead of making him wait. That wouldn’t really change much, but maybe we never would have gotten married if he hadn’t found me so ‘different’ than the other girls who threw themselves at him)

2     1997 Muskie Tournament (I could change things by not having sex with him and we never would have gotten pregnant and had to give the baby up for adoption, but that seems too selfish)

3      2001 Valentine’s Day (I could stay home from the wedding and he wouldn’t be able to cheat on me with his ex, Tara  … I think that was the first time … but what if it wasn’t?)

4      The night he proposed (I could say no and break up with him and we could agree to be friends)

5     Yesterday (Instead of walking away I could demand that the house is half mine and I could force him to leave)

These all sound like viable options. I need another glass of wine and that shower Akal mentioned really does sound divine. I can take a shower, make myself look presentable, and walk back to the bar and have a few cocktails while I think about Akal’s offer.

The shower feels amazing and the peppermint bodywash helps me forget about the mold on the grout between the tiles, the poor water pressure, and the squeak of the bathroom fan. Maybe there are other options. Instead of helping him back in the boat the day he fell into the freezing water, I could drive away … it sounds sinister, but a dead husband is better than a cheating husband … and we did vow to love honor and cherish until death do we part. I wasn’t proud of the thought, but it was an option.

I toweled off my hair and wrapped up in my robe then headed for the bed to sit and ponder a few more moments before lotion and dressing. My heart stopped when I saw the bed. Ben was lying on the bed with a knife stuck in his chest. He was gasping for air and looking at me wild eyed. Akal was standing in the corner smirking …

Now was really the time to decide. Do I dial 9 1 1 ? Do I give the knife a twist? Do I walk away? 

May your paths be abundantly filled with lemons, sugar, sunshine, and tough moments that eventually enrich your life.

~Crystal

A Lovely Lemon - Gone To Soon

Yesterday I received an updated email regarding my pregnancy. The email said that the baby was the size of a lemon. At the time, I didn't think much about the comparison since each week there was some talk of food. The size of a walnut, the size of a this or that...and until this very moment, I didn't realize just how appropriate the lemony reference was. Let me explain...

At 2pm today, my husband my son and I walked into the clinic for our scheduled OB appointment. I was 12 weeks pregnant and we were all very excited about hearing the baby's heartbeat and sharing a special family moment. We waiting patiently and then the big moment arrived. The doctor pulled out the electronic stethescope to listen to the heart beat. He had trouble finding it which wasn't all that concerning. He asked the nurse to bring in an ultrasound machine and then a special vaginal ultrasound machine. It was obvious there was a problem. There was a large pink elephant in the middle of the room wearing a polka dot too too and everyone was afraid to acknowledge it.

Dr.: "It doesn't seem like you're as far along as you think"

Crystal: "So - the baby is small? But is there a heartbeat?"

Dr.: "I haven't found it yet."

silence....

deafening silence...

damn pink elephant....

tears rolling down my face as I squeeze my husband's hand for dear life and my son gives me a hug and says 'mommy I love you'

Crystal: "Just say it - just tell me...I already know something is wrong"

Dr.: "Nikki - please take the little guy out to color or something"

Andre: "Mommy, why are you crying"

Mark: "It's okay Andre, just go with the nice lady"

Dr.: "It looks like the baby died at about 8 weeks - so approximately 4 weeks ago"

Crystal: sobbing...."now what?"

sobbing

God give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change. God give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change. God give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change.

I had always said that I wasn't afraid to tell people when I was pregnant. I didn't want to be the girl that kept it a secret until 12 weeks because life begins at conception and even a life that is short lived should be celebrated just as much as that of a 110 year old. Now I really had to be strong in that conviction. How would I tell everyone and would they understand? Would they mourn with us just as they had rejoiced with us? Would they blame me? Would they say it's what I deserve for being an imperfect person?

It's really just as simple as the way we explained it to the children.

God needed another angel and he looked at you (Carmen and Andre) and he saw how amazing, beautiful, and caring you are. He said "I want an angel like that to snuggle with, to sing in my choirs, and to bring laughter to my house" and he took baby Jackson (the boy name we had picked out) to be with him. Baby Jackson is now Angel Jackson and he is bouncing on Grandpa Andre's knee and giggling. And someday Mommy and Daddy will join them in heaven and Mommy can run her fingers through his hair and kiss his perfect lips. But for now, Mommy had 8 amazing weeks where she sang to him and let him know that he was loved with absolutely all her heart by Mommy, Daddy, and his big brother and sister.

It's just that simple - God understands and I don't have to. The amazing part is how deeply you can fall in love with something so little - something that gives you absolutely nothing in return. When a parent says "I love you more than you'll ever know" they just might be right. I don't love baby Jackson any less than I love my other children and I smile as I picture him bouncing on his grandfather's knee. He may have been lemon sized, but he was the loveliest lemon in his mommy's eyes.


May your paths be abundantly filled with lemons, sugar, sunshine, and may those lemons be the loveliest lemons you can find.

~Crystal