No more plans…
So yesterday I posted regarding the struggles of home ownership. I thought about my post after I sent it. It wasn’t a cheerful “let’s make the best of it” post. It was more like, “this writer’s struggling and just got kicked in the pants” post. I wondered if I should have sent it. Isn’t it ironic that in Raising Evangeline, Lucy has her finger on the pulse of three different homes?
This is what I’ve finally learned with the furnace failing. Planning doesn’t work for me. I’ve tried to make plans ever since I remember being cognitively able to do so, and not one plan has worked. Dreams have come true. And I’ve met goals. But not one plan. So, I’m done with plans, and I’m done with asking my husband and girls to sign onto them.
And because I like to write about what I know, Lucy’s plans aren’t going to work out either. She’ll meet some goals, some of her dreams will come true. But plans? They’ll be thwarted, and she’ll have to wrestle with the devastation and messy crumble just like I’m doing in real life.
So if you’re following me, and I hope you are, just know that not everything here is rosy in Vermont. And it isn’t all rosy in either Vinehart Farm or Raising Evangeline. Still, good things happen all the time. And today, that’s where I’m hanging my hat.