Saturday Night Serenade–Happy!

Welcome to the unofficial start of summer!  It’s a three-day weekend, and I’m only two work days away from retiring.  Starting June 1, I’m a full-time writer.  Hopefully that means that this neglected little blog will get a bit more attention.

We’re taking a big chance, Mr. R and I.  His fledgling real estate career is just beginning to bear fruit.  By retiring early, I’m walking away from a sure paycheck every two weeks.  But life is short, getting shorter every day.  So we’re seizing the day, taking the opportunity to try something new.

For now, that means he’s selling houses in Palm Beach County.  And I’m working from home, writing and promoting steamy romance.  On the other hand, we may consider selling everything and taking to the road.  Recently Mr. R showed me a video of the island of Mauritius.  “Here.  Let’s move here,” he said.

I can write from Mauritius, y’all.  And I imagine someone has to sell houses there.  Or work in television news.  Or whatever he decides he wants to do.  It’s thrilling to know that we don’t have to settle for the status quo.

Confession:  I’m hedging my bets.  I’m packing into the garage everything I’d need to start a first grade classroom again.  Worst case scenario, I end up going back to teaching at some point.

But it’s a beautiful day today, I’m in love with the love of my life, and dammit, you know what?  I’m happy.  Hence tonight’s serenade.

I wish for you all the happiness in the world.  Hug those you love and enjoy your weekend.  Happy Saturday night!

You Just Never Know

Life is short....

Mr. R. called me last night while he was at work.

“J.J.’s dead.”


“J.J.’s dead.  He didn’t come to work and he didn’t call in.  He wouldn’t answer his phone so we came over here.”

“Where are you now?”

“We’re at J.J.’s house.  Scott went in and found him.  He was on his bed.”

According to Mr. R., J.J.’s car was in the driveway with the wipers sticking up.  There was a bucket of water and a sponge beside the car.  The assumption is that he was washing his car and began to feel badly so he went inside to lie down.  He lived alone so it wasn’t until he didn’t show up for work that he was missed.  Coworkers had to break into his house and find him.  He was forty-four.

That’s about the saddest story I’ve ever heard.

And a sobering reminder to do the things you mean to do, sooner rather than later.

Say the things you mean to say, sooner rather than later.

Love those around you and let them know that you do.

Because you just never know.