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?
We moved from Colorado to Washington State five years ago last Saturday. The circumstances surrounding that move were inexplicable and difficult. I explain some of the story in the final chapter of A Brave Life. It involved two painful and exhausting life-altering weeks in which we gave away or sold most of our possessions. We were grateful for our friend, Torie Griffin—owner of the Buffalo Lodge Bicycle Resort—for standing in the gap for us during those weeks, even as she faced her own personal crisis. We gave her this card as we left—it still seems applicable to many life situations including our present one.
You know, like Scott’s liver failing because he caught Hepatitis B in his 40s when he helped a couple escape their car that was catching on fire after flipping off the freeway. Yeah, that kind of stupid. (And yes it was treated.) But here we are—and we have an appointment at the University of Washington Medical Center in two weeks to evaluate if he qualifies for a liver transplant. Our Bingo card for 2025 is unexpected.
I wrote this in the card: “I believe God wrings the good out of every awful mess.” I still believe that is true and that people who stand in the gap for us—like our neighbors during this current crisis—are the best examples of who God desires us to be for one another.
News, Highlights from Previous Weeks, What’s Coming, and Other Stuff
This week, I will be moving The Green Door Antique Store: What’s That Secret You’ve Been Keeping? to the Thursday storytelling spot, but for now, the story continues. (Chapter One can be read here and Chapter Two here. )
Chapter Three: Booths
Stepping out of the café, I mentally made a bet with myself about whether the next booth would once again be empty. Both halves of me, bet on empty. They were both right. The booth was painted a rich shade of orange and was completely empty.
I now understood that the emptiness would not likely change. The layout of the store on this side seemed the same as I turned to walk through a series of three booths on the left side of the building. What was dramatically different were the rich jewel tones of the rooms: red, green, and blue. I had a hunch that the final room at the front of the building would be a deep shade of purple since the room diagonally across from it was a muted shade of lavender.
Our laughter at finding the first room empty upon leaving the café evolved in uncomfortable giggles when we walked into the purple room. We had completed a full tour of an empty antique store and had enjoyed a tea party along the way. It would be an interesting story to tell my husband. My daughter would need to give me an explanation for recommending I come.
Since I obviously had nothing to purchase, I smiled at Thyme, thanked her for the tea and scones and headed to the massive green door only to discover that the door handle wouldn’t turn. I pushed the door; it didn’t budge.
We appeared to be locked inside of the Green Door Antique Store.
Jayne was right behind me and said, “Here, let me try.” After a couple of tries, she turned and looked at the rest of the women and said, “The door is locked, Thyme will need to unlock it.”
All eyes turned toward the counter where Thyme stood smiling. In a cheery voice, she said, “I am so glad to welcome the new booth owners! I am excited to see what you do with the booths!
Stepping out from behind the counter, she held out paint swatches of the room colors and started going through the circle of women and handing a card to each one as she explained, “The stairs to the basement are right behind the clock. It is filled with every possible antique for your booths. There are several dumb waiters in the café that you can use to bring things up.”
Then pointing to a space beside the clock, she said, “We have these adorable Radio Flyer wagons to transport things from there to your booths. You have until dinner time to work. We will meet in the café’ at 6:00. I am planning a meal filled with comfort foods. I need to get to the kitchen and get busy.”
With that, she opened a hidden door behind the clock and vanished into the center of the building.
No one moved.
Another woman tried the door—to no avail.
The woman next to me seemed quite distraught and said, “We need to call 911, I think we have been kidnapped.”
“Good idea,” the woman behind her said. Everyone began digging in pockets and purses for cellphones only to collectively realize there was no cell service in the building.
The entryway exploded into agitated conversations.
Jayne—who we would quickly learn could speak with authority to calm those who were most agitated—spoke up. “Ok, we are not in imminent danger. Thyme seems quite harmless and caring. Since our daughters sent us here, it isn’t like no one knows where we are. We just need to go along with this until we figure out what is happening. It won’t do any good to panic.”
She was right. We needed to do what we had been asked to do. Spotting a stairway behind the massive clock, I shrugged off my concerns and announced that I was headed downstairs to explore the basement.
To Be Continued on Thursday . . .
Subscriber Note: You Can Choose
You can choose what you want to receive from my Substack! I do not expect everyone to be interested in everything! My writing speaks to many different audiences. If you only want emails on particular topics, you can do that!
Click on the Unsubscribe button at the top of the email.
There will be a choice to go to my Substack Website—click on that.
All of the sections of my Substack are listed —you can choose! (If you leave the top one green, you will receive everything I send.)
“I believe God wrings the good out of every awful mess.” I will do my best to try to believe this with you, for both of us. You are always on my mind.