Jill Weatherholt

Writing Stories of Love, Faith and Happy Endings While Enjoying the Journey


Under Construction

It’s hard to believe four months have passed since a tiny pipe, under the guest bathroom sink, burst and flooded our house. I’m happy to report the last of the repairs have been completed and we now have our house back. As a person who thrives on routine and order in her life, it was the longest four months ever.
Our life revolved around estimates, hardwood and carpet samples, contractors, piles of debris and dust that even found it’s way onto the tops of our canned goods, behind the pantry door. To make matters worse, my three designated writing areas in the house were out of commission.

I write best in a decluttered workspace, but during these repairs our house was nothing but clutter. For an extended period of time, every item, including our furniture was either in our garage or upstairs.

When I sat down to write, my eyes constantly strayed to the mess surrounding me. I was stressed by the mess and struggled to put words on the page.
One day I realized, this mess was going to be a part of our life for a while, so I had to suck it up and deal with the distractions or break my commitment. There will always be distractions in life that I can use as an excuse not to write. A good writer isn’t necessarily one who writes with the most skill, but one who is able to be consistent with the writing, despite the distractions.

I’ve upheld my commitment made on January 1st to write at least 500 words a day in the face of chaos and destruction. Having done so, I feel prepared to handle any other distractions that cross my path. I got my writing spaces back and I plan to take full advantage of my clutter free surroundings.

How do you deal with distractions?


I wish I could draw

stickPainting is just another way of keeping a diary. ~ Pablo Picasso

My older sister was born with the artistic gene. As a teenager she had a sketch pad full of drawings. She had the innate ability to take a white page and turn it into a work of art. Then there was me, I could barely draw a stick person. I wanted a sketch pad like hers, filled with drawings of animals, cartoon characters and scenery, but I never did.

As we grew, so did her abilities. She could take a pile of dried flowers and turn it into a beautiful arrangement. A piece of plain card stock skillfully transformed into a lovely greeting card, by her creative touch. Ten years ago, she gave me a card making starter kit, to this day, it’s never been opened.

I’ve accepted the fact that I’m not artistic. I’ll never be able to draw a scenic view of the ocean or paint majestic mountains, but that’s okay. We’re all born with our own unique gifts and talents, mine just isn’t drawing.

3rd attempt at drawing my cat I had in my 20's

3rd attempt at drawing, Rudy…yes, she was a cat.

What talent do you wish you had?


No Pinching!

Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” ~ Forrest Gump

When I was little, I loved to sneak into my mom’s Whitman’s Sampler Assorted Chocolate box, in search of my favorite piece of candy, chocolate coconut. Unfortunately, all of the pieces looked the same to a child’s eye. Despite the label on the inside lid to indicate the location of each chocolate, they were never in the proper place.

Since I didn’t like pieces that squirted a liquid, like the Cherry Cordials or the kind with the unidentifiable jelly, I was forced to pinch it to identify. Sometimes it would take three or four pinches before I could find the coconut.

I never understood why my mom would get angry and yell, “Who’s been pinching the candies?” The pieces were still edible, albeit a little smashed. I later discovered I wasn’t the only one pinching, my father and sister were also pinchers. Since I was the finicky eater in the family, I was always on the receiving end of the accusing eye.

A couple of times, I took my chances and bit into a piece, but those pieces usually ended up hidden in the trash can. Fortunately through the years, my mother developed a taste for better candy. Russell Stover Nuts and Chews replaced the Whitman’s Sampler and in that box, there was never a bad piece.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

What’s your favorite kind of candy?


Swing and a Miss

Hole in one“Diligence is the mother of good luck.” ~ Benjamin Franklin

Seventeen years ago, I played my first round of golf. Unlike many sports, golf is not a team sport; it’s you against the course. As I stood on the tee box, I adjusted my golf glove and prepared myself to hit my first shot. Behind us, I noticed a foursome of men waiting and I got a nervous. I addressed the ball, swung and I missed. In golf, that’s referred to as a “whiff.”

When I began to submit my writing to contests and magazines, I was reminded of that amateur golfer on the first tee box. There was no way to hide my inability, I was completely exposed. It was difficult to leave my comfort zone, hiding behind my laptop. I was no longer writing for my eyes only, I had opened the door for rejection, criticism, but eventually I entered the door to publication.

On July 27, 2002, I had my first and only hole-in-one. I realized so much of it was luck, the ball had to bounce just right and the green had to break perfectly toward the hole. However, if I had given up after that first whiff, I would have never experienced that incredible feeling. When I had my first short story published in 2012, it was more hard work than luck, but like that hole-in-one, it was a great surprise.

Have you ever swung and missed?