writer’s studio

Tour of my Gardens and Writing Cottage Thanks to My “Pool” Boy

Tour of my Gardens and Writing Cottage Thanks to My "Pool" Boy
berm off deck

I teased John last night asking him what he did with my husband. In case you are new to my blog, John is my husband. For those of you who have been here for awhile, I think you know by now how blessed I consider myself to be with the love of my life almost 40 years now, 34 of which we’ve been married.

We’ve certainly had our ups and downs, but that is bound to happen when you are together this long. Or as we sometimes say as they do in the movie, Christmas Vacation, when things feel challenging or don’t go as planned, “It’s all part of the experience.” 

It was in the mid 90s all weekend. Not exactly the kind of weather you want to dig out new edging for the gardens or spread 10 yards of fresh chocolate mulch. On top of the fact I continue to heal from my sprained back, which meant no helping from me. Though truth be told, I learned that the hard way after doing a small section Saturday (don’t tell my chiropractor! 🙂  ) thinking I was “fine.” The result of my foolishness? Hardly sleeping at all that night! Lesson learned!

I had to accept the fact I couldn’t help, let go of the guilt, and allow my husband John, to do the yard work. I soon discovered that you don’t need a pool to have a pool boy!

east side of writing cottage

It’s funny when one starts out in a relationship, it’s often a physical attraction. But then as the years go by, love shape-shifts into something deeper if you are fortunate enough and stick it out.

John and I live a pretty simple life. That’s the way we like it. He loves his work and I love mine. Coming together at the end of the day to share is most often a highlight of our days. These days, even when times are difficult, we seem to listen more easily and just hold space when one of us is in need instead of rushing in to try and “fix” it.

Growing closer each year we now say that when the time comes our wish is to die together. Though of course that isn’t up to us. But Friday night John surprised me and said that he decided he has to die first. I asked him why, and he said he just couldn’t imagine my going first. It would be too painful and he couldn’t imagine life without me.

It’s interesting that in the beginning of our relationship, I was quite insecure and relied on him in many ways. While he continues to be the bread winner and that would certainly change if something happened to him and I’d likely have to find a part time job, I’ve grown so much stronger in who I am. 

It may sound silly, but there was a day I wouldn’t put gas in my car or have my oil changed or anything considered what the “man of the house” does. Last August I actually did all the wheeling and dealing when we decided to lease a new car. At the beginning of John encouraging me to take on these tasks I’d often resist and complain. But now I’m glad as I do take pride in taking ownership in these things. Should it be he does leave this earth before me, at least I feel a bit more prepared – though I know one is never fully prepared for that day that changes everything.

west side of writing cottage

The landscaping, which we had done three years ago, has pretty much been up to me to maintain. While I know it adds value to our home, I didn’t know if I’d want the upkeep. Though I’m happy to say it now brings me joy and I find it’s nice break from my writing or my day, to stop and walk around them.

John being the owner of his own business, which at times has been stressful, hasn’t always had the energy to help with the yard work. While it’s not as stressful anymore for him since he is on his own without employees now for the past three years, something else has shifted in him this year.

This weekend I sensed a new energy and pride as he worked in the heat making our humble little home and landscape come to life in a new way with it’s fresh coat of mulch. Just as he’d done almost ten years ago when he built me my sweet little writing cottage.

While we continue to also shape-shift in the changing of our bodies and our features with more wrinkles and gray hair, this new shift of depth in our relationship is what makes me fall in love with him over and over again, but in a different way. He may not perhaps be someone’s idea of a pool boy, but to me, he still makes my heart go pidder, padder.

back of writing cottage

As I sat on the deck yesterday watching him finish up the last of the mulch, the cement lion statue caught my eye through the cut out heart on our deck. A design John saw over 25 years ago and brought the idea home to me because he knew I’d love it. He then set out to lovingly build our deck, carefully cutting in each heart at different locations. They still make me smile to this day.

A gentle love certainly does abound here between this contractor and creative writer at our small plot of land here in historic Elkhart Lake. While we never know what the future holds, and I try not to dwell there for too long, it’s sweet times like these that fill my heart with joy and I safely tuck them away for that “someday” should I be the one left.

Signing off now from the smitten all over again, Mrs. Techel!

XO,

Barbara

Cheerful and Deep. Thank You, Kathryn.

Cheerful and Deep. Thank You, Kathryn.
My writing cottage – the space that supports my heart.

It occurred to me today as I began writing this post that I’ve been blogging for ten years now, having started in 2007.

When I first started, while I enjoy writing, there were times, I’ll be honest, it felt like a chore. I’d come to realize the reason for that was that I bought into the template of what I should do shared by those in the industry that set a specific standard for building an author platform. While that may work for some I often resisted, but was too afraid to follow my own inner guidance for fear no one would read my blog.

Oh, how I’ve grown!  The moment I let go of the should and surrendered to my own process, I’ve come to love coming to this place to share my thoughts, hopes and dreams. And I say a deeply, grateful thank you to each of you for having stayed with me on this journey.

I was reminded of all of this because of a lovely comment yesterday from reader, Kathryn who shared with me that she loves reading my blog and finds it “cheerful and deep.” It brought tears to my eyes and made my heart soar! Thank you, Kathryn!

I loved it and feel it truly represented what I hope my blog is for others — part of my mission is to be a positive face in the world while at the same time the more I come to understand about tuning in and listening to our hearts, I love sharing that deeper wisdom with you, too.

So thank you again, Kathryn. And thank you to all of you who are here. It means so much to me.

Thank you for sharing and subscribing to my blog updates.

The Fairy Who Came to Dance in My Writing Cottage

The Fairy Who Came to Dance in My Writing Cottage

My morning started with one of my dark chocolate coconut nibs being in the shape of a heart…and then someone on Instagram pointed out it is also smiling, which I didn’t initially catch. How’s that for a positive sign to start the day?

Dressed in my yoga gear with Gidget tucked under my right arm I walked twelve steps across the deck, through my periwinkle door, and into my sacred space that is my writing cottage.

As I began moving through my yoga poses, listening to an Eva Cassidy station on Pandora, I felt this presence with me.

It began as a small wisp of a flutter and a gentle nudge of a niggle. This presence swayed with grace within my imagination, beckoning me to join in.

But I was disciplined and didn’t have time for this whisper in my heart. I must move through my yoga poses as I do most days. 

And besides I was feeling shy. Go ahead, I thought, and sashay and sway all you want. I can’t join you right now.

But then it began to be a bit more insistent tickling my spirit with what it might feel like if I just let go and followed the path it was beckoning my soul to see…

And so to appease it, I decided to listen…and slowly I began to let go of feeling vulnerable…and soon enough my arms began to sway up, then down, and all around…and then my legs couldn’t help but join in carrying me where they may…as I smiled and frolicked with the fairy who came to dance in my writing cottage today.

The more I let go of “being seen”  the more my spirit soared…and the fairy’s wings flapped with utter joy at my willingness to finally open to the message she had been trying to convey to me.

The smile on my face grew wider and wider as I felt my wings being set free…dancing like no one was watching…and it was then I realized…

it was me…

I was the fairy that came to dance in my writing cottage today.

Thank you for sharing and subscribing to my blog updates.