• Ordinary people. Extraordinary romance.

    Ordinary people. Extraordinary romance.

The word is out.  I handed in my resignation today, so I can now blog about the 2012 Aloha Road Trip.

What is it?  My husband, “L”, son, “A” and DIL, “H” are all moving to Oahu.  For the geography challenged (as we were), it’s the 3rd largest Hawaiian island.  The one with Honolulu.

Why are we going?  It was a process of over a year that morphed from “some day” to “maybe” to “what if?” to “should we do it?” to “Why wait?”  It took over two years to sell our condo and 49 days to sell their house.  We’re all living together at the moment in the condo, a 21st century Brady Bunch, only without Alice.

I’m going to try to chronicle some of the ups and downs as we prepare for a pack-up-the-house move, the move itself and acclimating to a place where nobody knows our name. (feel free to hum the “Cheers” theme song).

T-Minus 24 days – Our tentative closing date is Aug 9th.  Maybe sooner.  On the 7th we drive “A” and “H” to Chicago to catch a flight to Vegas, where they will stay for three days, visit grandma then fly to Honolulu.  We follow on the 9th (or sooner) by car.  Thus, the Aloha Road Trip.  The T shirts will be here by the end of the week.

Since Thursday, we have sold a grill, a sofa, and are holding two mattress sets, a washer and dryer, a bedroom suite, a TV and kitchen chairs for the right time (I ain’t sleepin’ on no floor) or craigslists customers to pony up the money.  We’ve made four trips to Goodwill (dropping off) and I have packed four boxes to be shipped to my daughter “L” in Alaska and packed nine to take with us.  Try getting rid of 95% of the books you own, and you’ll know my pain.

Still up for sale – one loveseat, one 42″ TV, one living room chair, one glass top table, my sewing machine (sob!) and a binding machine I’ve used for first chapter promo books. Act fast.  As “L” says, “Money talks, bullshit walks.”

I’ve lists galore.  My lists have lists.

We have a Hawaiian bank account.  Woot!  And as soon as I have an account number, I can start transferring other accounts.

Much to do.  I’ll try to keep everyone updated.

Here is today’s word(s) I’ll never use again.  Don’t be jealous.    Wind chill.

Mahalo!

 

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Fill in the blanks.

The thing I want most is_________because__________, but I can’t because__________ .

That, my friends, is the goal, motivation and conflict you need for your major characters before you can start writing.

p.s. I’d also like to hear your stories and what you’re doing to meet your goal.

All the best,

Cheryl

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Do you use writing prompts when you get a big case of writer’s block or to spark your writing?  Here’s one from 2005, when the Grand Rapids Region Writers Group first started and lacked a speaker for their meeting.

The dead make good neighbors; I mean, they don’t trot over at all hours and beat upon one’s domicile door for a bit of sugar or whatnot; they don’t accost one after church and press ragged tickets upon one for some bally fete or another, nor bung off to Bath after dropping their beastly pets for me to watch; no, as a whole, your graveyard corpse is a quiet, peaceful sort of Johnnie.

(whew!  Talk about your run-on sentences)

Here’s what I wrote in the 15 minutes allotted:

I never minded living next door to the cemetery.  Except for the occasional police car parked in the drive, the officers taking a break from donuts and the high crime of our sleepy little town, hoping to catch a speeding car as they punched through the 30 m.p.h. limits coming out of town.  Halloween was even quiet, the citizens preferring old man Mooney’s yard to festoon with toilet paper or to upend small cars on Main Street.

I thought I had a good deal, living next to the quiet dead, who, as previously mentioned, make pretty good neighbors.

That is, until the drug drops started.

It seems the local riff-raff, the pillars of let’s-take-advantage-of-children society, decided the cemetery was the perfect place to conduct business.  Think about it.  The back of the cemetery was secluded, away from curious eyes, everything you’d want to conduct a drug deal.  And, if anything went wrong, they wouldn’t have to transport the body far.

This had gone for about a month, undetected by the local law, when the dead decided they’d had enough interruption of their eternal rest.

 

Do you use writing prompts?

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