Life at the Lumberyard

You know when Michael Scott said “I’m not superstitious. But I am a little stitious”? Well I don’t believe in reincarnation, but, man, I’m really questioning some things lately. I’m just going to say it: My daughter might be my grandma Meyer.  I know, I know, I know.... no, Samantha. You're a whack. I know she’s not. I know that. I know.  But hear me out… The day before I officially found out I was pregnant was the day my dad went into surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his bladder. I hadn’t slept well that night because I had a sneaking suspicion I was pregnant, and I was so worried about him. But in a brief moment of peace that night, I had a dream that a man - who I just knew was a saint - held a basket with a white covering and inside was a cooing kicking baby. And he told me that my dad would be fine and dad would know this baby. He said more than once that the two would be very very close. I could really elaborate on this dream, but long story short — dad was and is fin

I was caught off guard recently by a question that a close friend asked me: Are you a journey person or a destination person? Do you focus on the destination or do you live for the journey? Me? Destination person.  My husband Allen is (very obviously) a journeyman. I, however, am totally not. Not even a little. I’m so much a destination person it’s painful. I find the destination in every (EV.ER.Y ) situation. “Well once I do this, then I can do that, and then it will be over and done with.”  Or “Once the kids all are in school, I can do this or that."  Or "Once we get this paid off, we can afford that."  Or even the little things like "Once I grab the bread, I can then get the grapes, then the porkchops, and be out of there."  Or "After I do these two things next week and then finish that then, then I’ll be golden.” (Newsflash: I’m never golden. It’s always the next steps to a destination I can never seem to reach.)  My everyday mundane evening is a desti