RockWall Cottage Chronicles
A newsy, sometimes amusing, usually interesting fly-on-the-RockWall view of my life as an author with updates from my Substack adventures.
The small cottage where I live and write has been affectionally named RockWall Cottage because of the rock wall that divides our side of the property from the side of the property where our friends, the owners of the cottage, live. (Learn More)
What Has Been Happening at RockWall Cottage?
I came as close to feeling like I was at the Attachment & Trauma Network (ATN) conference as I could be without being there. What an honor and a whirlwind of memories when this slide appeared on my screen.
My week was filled with the smiling faces of those who have shared in this crucial work to support children who have been impacted by trauma. Sometimes pictures are worth 1,000 words, and sometimes a picture represents 1,000 memories.
When the world is discouraging, it is pictures like this that remind me that these are the people who are making a difference. The real impact on this world is by those who quietly give so much of themselves to care about children.
Happy 30th Anniversary ATN!
NOW, MORE THAN EVER... Children need ATN!
Your gift helps a child struggling to heal from trauma – and equips their parents and teachers to know how to help them.
You can learn more and donate to the Attachment & Trauma Network at this link
News, Highlights from Previous Weeks, What’s Coming, and Other Stuff
My articles are being quoted more often. With that comes a responsibility on my part to attribute correctly and then clarify when I can. It is almost impossible for this to not happen when quoting here on Substack and other social media platforms! I am constantly running quotes through Google to find the actual source. (BTW not all quotes attributed to C.S. Lewis are something he actually said—his followers are always on the hunt for misattributions! They are remarkable sleuths.)
And, for the very first time since publishing Brave, I am drawing a complete blank on what is coming. It feels odd, but maybe I can get back to writing The Green Door Antique Store: What’s That Secret You’ve Been Keeping? I leave you with the first chapter:
Chapter One: The Green Door
My daughter recommended I visit the Green Door Antique Store. While I had moved far too many times to have any desire to collect things, I did enjoy window shopping. So, I went …. alone.
The store was located in a nearby town and when I set my phone GPS, I noticed the hours were from 10:00 am to 2:00 pm Monday through Friday. It seemed odd for a store to only be open for so few hours and not at all on Saturday or Sunday.
It was a beautiful sunny Friday morning as I walked the short distance from the public parking area to the store. I wasn’t surprised to find that the door was green; I was surprised by its size. It seemed to be wide enough for two people to walk in side by side—and tall! I was reminded of a school I had visited that was in a building originally meant to accommodate Arabian horses. Those doors were of similar size, but they surely weren’t bringing horses into an antique store! The very thought amused me as I pulled the massive door open.
Inside the door was an equally massive clock. I noted that it was one o’clock and that I would need to watch my time to get through the store in an hour. There was a sign hanging underneath the clock with an arrow pointing to my right. It explained that if I followed the arrows, they would take me through all the booths and return me to the front door.
I jumped when a cheery voice exclaimed, “Hello. Welcome to the Green Door Antique Store!” What my body did at the sound of the voice was more like an out-of-body experience. Where did that voice come from?
Turning the opposite direction of the arrow, I could see a counter. It made sense to have the checkout desk there where one could pay on the way out. Behind the counter was the most grandmotherly-looking woman I had ever seen. Not grandmotherly like my generation that broke the grandmotherly mold. More like my grandmother who always wore an apron. The woman was smiling at me. Maybe it was more like being amused at my out-of-body experience.
“Sorry to startle you like that. It happens often with first-time visitors.”
I suddenly felt like I was visiting a church for the first time. I wondered if first-time visitors were as obvious in an antique store as in church. Probably so in this one.
“Was it that obvious that I was a newcomer?” I asked.
“Yes, it was!” she answered. “Enjoy looking around. Remember we close at 2:00.”
With that reminder, I turned in the opposite direction and walked into the first booth.
What happened next was unexpected.
To Be Continued . . .
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Oh my goodness—here we go again! How am I going to wait for the next installment?! 😁