Jill Weatherholt

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


Back in the Nook

006As the cold air settles in, I find myself gravitating to certain areas in the house. On sunny weekend afternoons, it’s my writing nook. I’ve mentioned this space in a previous post, but this year it feels extra warm and toasty.

Last year at this time, we were dealing with the aftermath of a burst pipe and the water damage left behind. Workmen, ladders, dust and ripped up flooring invaded some of my favorite writing spots, including my nook. I was forced to write in tiny areas outside of the construction zone.

Recently as I entered the nook, the warmth from the late autumn sun greeted me and I felt at home. After months of writing on the patio, when the weather cooperated, on the dining room table, or at my larger desk in my office, everything felt right, back in my nook.

The winter sun fills this room.

The winter sun fills this room.

I’m not a fan of winter, so I seek comfort in this cozy little corner of our home. I did a quick dusting and went to work. Several hours later, I emerged from the nook. I had written two blog posts and a rough draft of a short story I plan to submit, but not until I spend several more hours in the nook editing.

Is there a place in your home where you gravitate to at certain times of the year?


That Old Feeling

007I’m not ashamed to admit I still own my first VCR player. Many of you probably have children or grandchildren who would have no idea what to do with this machine. Perhaps some of you reading are scratching your head.

In the day of Blu-ray, Netflix and streaming, I still long to pull the clunky, hard rectangular piece of plastic from the cardboard case to watch “When Harry Met Sally”, “Grease” or “A Rebel Without a Cause.” I get that sentimental longing for the past, known as nostalgia. When I look at this outdated piece of technology, so many wonderful memories flood my mind I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.

I remember crying with my best friend as we watched “Terms of Endearment”. At Christmas time, my sister and I would pop some corn and watch “White Christmas.” On this old machine, I’ve watched “Good Fellas” and “The Shawshank Redemption” with that special someone so many times, we’ve lost count.
I have many of these movies on DVD and I could upgrade the other cassettes to modern technology, but nostalgia is a powerful emotion and one I can’t control. For now, the VCR player will remain in our guestroom for those cold winter days or rainy summer evenings when I’m in need of that warm and fuzzy feeling.

Is there something in your house you can’t part with because of the feeling it ignites?


Refueling the Tank

001Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow. ~ Mark Twain

Yes, I did all of these puzzles over the past couple of weeks. You might wonder why someone would waste her time puzzling. I’ll tell you why…I was procrastinating or so I thought.

My goal at the start of November was to enter two writing contests this month. I knew the two contests I wanted to target and I had familiarized myself with the guidelines. I had plenty of time…no problem.

Turned out, there was a problem. Each evening I planned to write, like a hummingbird to the sweet nectar, I was drawn to the puzzle. With my iPod set to shuffle, I searched for connecting pieces. Eventually my mind and body relaxed and in what seemed like a few minutes, an hour had passed.

This continued night after night until it dawned on me the month of November was half over. That’s when I panicked. What about my goals? Why had I wasted time working those puzzles when I had goals to reach? I should have been connecting words to create a story, not pieces of cardboard.
In the end, I submitted my contest entries. I discovered what I thought was time wasted puzzling was actually feeding my writing tank. Few activities work both sides of your brain simultaneously.puzz When puzzling, the creative side works to see the finished product, while the logical side works to fit the pieces. Relaxing and listening to the music allowed my stories to come to life in my mind. By procrastinating, the stories traveled with ease from my mind onto my computer screen.

What’s your favorite way to procrastinate?


Plan B

005When a glorious autumn weekend goes from this,007 sunny with temperatures in the low 70’s, to this,004 a cold rain with falling temperatures into the 40’s, you need a back up plan.

Here’s my plan. First, make a big crock pot of chili, without following a recipe.001

While Derek does a little of this,006
I’ll do a whole lot of this.

It’s always good to have a Plan B. What’s your go to back up plan on a raw and cold day?


Holy Smokes!

Image Courtesy of morguefile.com

Image Courtesy of morguefile.com

In the movies and on television, things happen in parking garages. They’re the perfect place for the bad guy to hide. However, sometimes, the most obvious setting for a scene is often the least interesting this wasn’t the case for me.

Recently, after an uneventful day at work, I walked through the dimly lit parking garage. I spied my car and hit the button to pop the lock. As I sat onto the seat, I fell back with a hard slam. This happens when I take my car for an oil change and the mechanic moves the seat back.

Something felt different. I glanced toward the passenger seat, it was farther back than usual. Someone had been in my car, but why? How? A chill ran down my spine. I was in the Twilight Zone. I had to get out of this dark garage. I needed daylight.

I slid the key into the ignition, but the steering wheel was locked. I jiggled the key to release the wheel but it wouldn’t move. Panic set in…what was happening? What once felt comfortable, getting into my car to go home, now felt completely foreign.

My hand shook as I turned on the overhead light. I had to get the steering wheel unlocked. I had to get out of here. I glanced down and that’s when I saw it. Lying on the console was a box of Marlboro Lights. What? I don’t smoke…that’s when it dawned on me…holy smokes I’m in the wrong car. The car was the same color, make and model, but definitely not mine.

I jumped from the car as fast as I could and raced two spots over to my car. I slid into my seat and breathed again. As I exited the parking garage, I hoped Big Brother hadn’t captured it all on camera.

Have you ever found yourself in the wrong place?