The Time Has Come....finally.

Well, it seems like this is now the end of a long road. We are finally moving into our new store.  It has been a challenging and exhausting journey since May.  And like a long labor that had no epidural, this baby is finally gettin born, and it's about time. And man, did it hurt. But i'm sure the pain will someday be a distant memory (although I know for darn sure i'm never doing this again without some good drugs on hand).  Like so many things in life, some things just can't be rushed. Things take on a life of their own and you just have to ride the crest of the wave until it crashes on the shore, dumping you on the beach with sand in your suit and seashells in your hair.   Then you get up, adjust the boobs and pick out the surf wedgie, and head back to the ocean to watch for the next wave.  And the waves will eventually come.  Thank you to all my lifeguards who kept me from drowning...Rachel, Audrey, Ryan and Lori, my folks and family, and all my other support people.  I love you guys. The Shabby Attic isn't just a shop. It's a haven. It's a retreat. It's an escape,  It's a mission. Let's see where the ocean takes us next.

A Building by Any Other Name...

As many of you know, we are moving our shop. We are not sure where and we have to move soon. There is a deadline for this move. But, if you think I am in a panic about moving, yet not knowing where exactly we are moving to, you would be wrong. Let me explain:

Growing up we moved around a bit, and it was truly painful for me to attempt to make new friends. I would have rather cut my arm off than say hello to someone I didn't know. High school wasn't much better. I hated every minute of it. Unpopular and awkward, I never felt I quite fit in anywhere. I had anxiety. I was emotional. I was insecure. I had bad hair, a back brace, and boys terrified me. I often felt rejected and lonely.  Eventually, after my college years, I grew out of my awkwardness and anxiety and began to find confidence and who I was and my place in the world. I learned to make bricks out of the mud of my past. With practice, I began to build myself from the ground up. I still battled with loneliness and shyness, but managed it by forcing myself out of comfort zones where I hid from life.  I learned to make bricks. Out of the mud. Over and over, until the pillars in myself raised higher and thicker, making me solid throughout. There is a reason why ancient monuments, thousand of years old, still stand. It's because someone took mud and made simple bricks. And every solid structure begins with just one brick. One brick at a time. Until something magnificent is achieved.
So a few years ago when personal crisis in my life tried to knock me down, and my business was at it's lowest, I held fast and creaked and wavered, but I did not crumble. The foundation held. In fact, this building is stronger than ever. Now I've grown reinforced steel girders.
So wherever we land, whatever roof is over our heads, makes no difference. If things are up in the air, I will just land square on my feet. And the building will hold and stand the test of time.

I will keep you all posted!

                                         Ten years ago when I started my business

 

And  now...

BEWARE the pitfalls. And paint buckets.

It has been yet another week of soul searching about my growing business. How can I possibly keep up, what's my next move, why does my store always look crazy (two quarts of paint got tripped over and spilled this week) why isn't my Facebook page more interesting, why do other pages seem to have their crap together and not me????
I had talked today to my stepdaughter about having feelings of jealousy that other business minded people seem to be progressing forward with their businesses in terms of the WOW factor, while I still feel stuck in the stone age. I do not Instagram. I barely Twitter. My website is out of date. I let my Etsy shop shrink. I write hand written receipts and I have a glorified ledger. I am currently not writing a book. I have no scheduled speaking engagements.  But what I concluded at the end of the day is this: I should not look to the right or to the left but focus solely on my own tasks at hand. BEWARE THE PITFALLS of comparing yourself to what other people do!! While it's good to keep an eye on what is trendy, what sells, what new colors are popular, etc, it is dangerous to one's own creativity and growth to look too long over what other's are doing. It's easy to follow trends. But new heights of creativity can only come from doing your own thing. Pinterest is a great example of this "looking" I speak of. While it is great for the occasional look-see, I avoid it for the most part. Because everybody's pin boards start to look alike, and I don't want my stuff to look like everybody else's. I want us to be unique! To do things that nobody has done on the internet. Maybe that makes me not as popular, but at least I know what we create is one-of-a-kind. Just like any flower in the garden, God grows us each in our own unique way, in our own timing, with our own custom-fit goals and achievements. So I will continue to focus on our humble little shop. And see what blossoms out of it.

Home is....

Been thinking about what home is lately, and what makes a home. And here is what it is to me:

 

It's wherever you are loved.

 It's wherever you find yourself under a warm blanket.

It's when you are with someone who makes you laugh until you toot and then you both laugh even harder.

It's wherever someone makes you soup.

It's where there is a well worn scrabble board.

 It's where random hugs happen.

It's where there is tender wisdom given.

It's where you can cry full on, and someone runs to hand you a Kleenex.

It's where warm cookies are baked whether you're on a diet or not.

It's where there is imperfect furnishings.

It's where there is a pot of coffee on often.

 It's where there is more laughter than tears, and laughter through tears.

It's wherever "I love you" is said daily.

 It's wherever you can put your hair in a scrunchie and slip into ratty sweatpants.

 It's where a sense of humor is not optional.

 It's where people can tell you truth, because they love you.

 It's where someone will always have your back.

 It's where someone gives good back rubs.

It's where someone says, "You're weird" after you act totally goofy and weird.

There are pets.

There are jammie days.

There is French toast.

 It's where I can be my strange, disorderly, mischevious, flip-out, soulful, and messy self.

 

 

"Home" by Phillip Phillips

http://youtu.be/HoRkntoHkIE

Beds that are so pretty I can't look directly at them...

The Tough Stuff

It's been a rough week. A rough winter, actually. And I'm not sure I have my footing going into the Spring. And it's not one major "thing" that has me off my center, it's a whole bunch of little things. Because the tough stuff is in the "little things", I feel, and can create just as much anxiety in me. The big stuff of life you can point to and say, "that was earth shattering" or "I'm glad I survived that". But the little decisions of life can have, over time, the effect of wearing away at one's solid ground, like the ocean chipping away at the side of a cliff. Before you know it, you're in the drink. I had several decisions to make this week that I could have gone 50/50 on. If I went in either direction, nothing tragic would occur, but each choice had it's own set of guilt baggage attached to it. And it wore me out. I couldn't honestly say that the choices I went with were the "right" ones. They were what was right, I'm sure, after weighing things out and saying a prayer or two. But so were the choices I didn't go with. They were sort of right, too. But why is it then that I felt so guilty afterwards? I think it is because we deep down know that the small decisions and choices CAN have huge consequences, just as much as the big decisions. Because life is so darn unpredictable. Because you can decide on shopping at GIANT supermarket when you usually go to Costco, and then slip on ice in the parking lot and break your leg. Life is so crazy like that. You can turn a corner and in an instant greet ecstasy or tragedy. And so I will continue to approach the small choices just like the big ones: weigh things out, check my internal "justice scales" for whether or not it's the right thing to do, talk to 10 of my friends, check my Magic 8 ball, say a Hail Mary and hope for the best. And then let go and let God. Here's an example of a painting decision that paid off. Green rocks.