A Year Of Art, A Year In Imagery

Faith can move mountains, right?

Well, if that’s the case… then faith can lift your house right on up off the ground too, right?

Sure. Yeah, right. I guess so. Whatever you say…

But no joke guys, I think, and believe, it can. Faith can do it all. Faith can move anything. Including your house.

Faith has all the power. Faith holds all the cards. Faith can allow one to complete seemingly impossible undertakings, and surpass insurmountable feats.

And what were these past two years... if not - one big, gigantic feat?

Looking back, boy, what a time to be alive...

If there’s one way to express my feelings on these past two years, it is this:


In order to persevere...  I must have a Foundation of Faith. 

And that foundation, even though it might be floating up in the sky(?) is what has kept me grounded, and sane, during life’s tough challenges.

Would it make any sense to you if I told you right now that I am living my very best life? Literally - right now. Every single day.

Throughout this pandemic. Throughout the ups and downs of the coronavirus, the surges and down dips in deaths and hospitalizations and body counts. Throughout global strife, this year, and last. International relations at their very worst in my lifetime. National relations also-the same.

Despite everything that has happened, and everything that is going on, and maybe even everything that is still to come. I am still living my very best life, each and every day. And I attribute that fact to one reason, and one reason only - my faith.

And there’s no doubt that this year, and last, have presented some very difficult circumstances, both externally, and internally. Personally, and professionally. Nationally and internationally.

There are actually far too many of said circumstances and challenges to name here, and nor do I want to name them, each and all. But these challenges and obstacles and pure blockades, were, and are, beyond overwhelming. And I blow my own damn mind each and every day with my ability to maneuver around them.

It took me a very long while, but I have come to believe, and actually understand and comprehend, that a solid foundation is exactly what is needed during life's hardest and harshest moments. And it is that foundation of faith, and my faith alone, that gets me through each day. 

That statement is so very true for me and I genuinely believe it. And in my eyes, it is simply and purely because when things get tough, and when things are looking down, and when you find yourself falling into a deep and dark and despairingly black hole, you actually can’t fall too far… IF you have a solid foundation. Because on your way down, you’ll reach the concrete floor of your home’s foundational base. And it’s that foundation that will catch you, and stop you, from burrowing further into the cold and dark earth underneath, during your time of depression or sorrow - a time of sadness, and pain.

And whether, when I lived up in Illinois, and my home’s foundation was literally below ground, in a basement. Or, now that I live in Florida, and the ground here is too wet and springy and bubbly and swampy for my foundation to be below ground, and thus a basement here being very hard to come by... The foundation of my house is currently at grade. But either way, I still have a foundation. Its depth is just a bit different than I was used to all my life, previous to living in the South.

And that little engineering and structural design and home construction fact got me to thinking...

There were moments this year in which I could barely function. I could barely move forward. And I could barely even drink water.

There were times I couldn’t even swallow. Not even coffee.

There were equally bad times last year. I’m still not over it all. Nor will I ever forget all that has happened and occurred on my watch.

Life is hard.

And it always will be.

But our responses, and reactions, and perseverance, and - our foundation - of our very faith in God, is what will carry us forward. 

And UP.

​

And whether I stand up on my very own, or God has to drag me by my soft and fuzzy dog paw patterned fleece pajamas on out of bed, pull me up onto my feet, and drag me into the kitchen kicking and screaming to make the morning coffee - either way - I’m going to keep going. Heck, even if God has to lift not just me out of bed, but my whole freaking GD house off the ground, either way, and some way or another, God is going to get me going. And God is going to keep me going.

I tend to think that sometimes he does literally just that. I’m still stuck in bed. And won’t move. God gives me a boost or two. He tells me it's time to get up. It’s time to get ready for work. It’s time to go, CHRISTINE!

And when I still won’t move, and can’t even comprehend starting another day of life, that’s when God offers one more bribe. He tells me we can grab some Starbucks on the way to work. A venti hot latte, coming my way… if only, I will start another day.

And when THAT doesn’t work - you know I’m in a bad place. I’ve never met a Starbucks I can resist. 

So it is then that God knows I am in the depths of despair (as Anne Shirley of Green Gables once said).

When a coffee bribe won’t work.

That’s when God really has his work cut out for him.

He knows that his Christine Pieper is doing pretty bad. Turning down a drink from her favorite barista. That’s the measurement of true despair.

He then says, the freaking heck with this.

And He, instead of dragging me out of bed by my feet, decides something stronger is necessary to get me going. He knows pulling me, myself, won’t do it just today.

So He decides to pick up my entire house - by its foundation. He rips it on out of the ground. And He carries me, and lifts me with helium and colored balloons, house included, over to my place of employment. I’m dropped off in the parking lot, with a smack on my butt for my misbehavior at that.

Funny thing…

I walk on into work…

Dragging these ridiculous looking balloons behind me.

?

I punch the time clock.

Coworkers completely disturbed by all the helium floating along beside me.

And I start my workday. In utter and pure protest. Disgust at the thought of surviving yet another shift. Is this what success looks like?

​

I absolutely LOVE my work...

But I can hardly move a muscle or bone inside my body.

I always thought that having a solid foundation was imperative to success and achievement. Whether that achievement being going for the Olympic Gold, or dragging your sad and sorry behind out of bed in the morning and brushing your teeth. I’ve discussed with you many times before about that solid foundation and how imperative it truly is.

And that foundation is a rock. It’s solid. It has to be. And the other requirement, or so I thought, was that it has to be deep. And it has to be so strong as to compete with and support the weight of the world and Earth’s rotational axis and gravity itself to keep it from drifting away into the abyss.

​

But - maybe, just maybe - I have been thinking all wrong, this entire time. About that said foundation.

I’ve done a lot this year. And last. All throughout COVID. I’ve accomplished more than I ever dreamed or could possibly imagine doing. All through challenge and hardship. And all because of my light and airy and flowing Foundation of Faith.

I let God do the work for me. I watched as my foundation of faith was set free from the ground. No longer locked deep into the basement up in Illinois; unglued from its at-grade base here in Florida.

As I floated around in the sky. All these past two years of Covid. Here and there. Near and Far. Blowing around in the wind. Spinning and dizzy. With delight. Or delirium? Swirling around in the sky.

Up and down.

And upside down.

My foundation was NOT solid and rock heavy as I thought it needed to be. My foundation was light… and airy. It has become so very light that one could stick a helium balloon or two on top of that silly little house… and the whole gosh darn home would lift entirely off the ground. Setting sail on a wild and ridiculous ride. God blowing it in the wind. Only He - controlling the direction of flight.

​

And that’s exactly what the heck happened to me. And I’ve been sitting in a helium balloon filled house, flowing around in the wind, these entire past two years.

I’ve done NOTHING - on my own.

And I’ve done EVERYTHING - through God.

Nearly two years ago now I went back to work. But being without work for roughly a decade, it was a huge decision and obviously a life altering moment in time for me.

As they say... I did not come to the decision lightly. In fact, it was such a big decision, I relied solely on God to help me with the choice I ultimately made.

God guided me in that decision to leave the home. And I have come to know, only through my now vast experience in conversations and coffee dates with God, that my best decisions in life are the ones I make with Him… The ones where we sit and chat over a latte while listening to cafe music in the background. We hear the steam of the espresso machine as it drowns out the voices of others - all in equally important conversation amongst themselves.

And those decisions are potentially made in the blink of an eye. The snap of my finger. With the force of wind going through me so very strong that I nearly vomit. 

One minute - I’m chilling with God at Starbucks.

The very next - I’m at home, curled up into a ball, on the floor of my home. The thought of throwing up too very much to control. Agonizing. Nauseous.

Next minute - I’m in the bathroom - head in front of the toilet.  Awaiting the uncontrollable reaction that I know is coming next.

Would it make any sense to you at all if I told you the very best decisions I have ever made in my life are the ones where I want to vomit at the thought of the choice I need to make? And just after conversing with God on the subject matter?

I did a lot of research, and I prepared myself as best as possible.

How to go back to work after ten years? 

How did I do it? 

Or, after that initial choice, how do I change jobs, or career paths, once again? How to keep going? After starting work, all over, once again? Being in a land, now so foreign to me, I might have well been standing at the South Pole on day one of orientation.

How to rejoin the workforce after so much had been changed in my absence? After all, just think of the technological improvements in the last ten to fifteen years, let alone the societal changes as well.

Where the term “onboarding” is now known to all who work and get hired? What in the heck is an onboard, anyway? And most importantly, is it something I can use for surfing?

I am asked of my pronouns.

She/Her.

And they are proudly displayed upon a bulletin board, or in the employee break room.

I’ve never been asked that in my life. And it’s always at work now where I’m asked. I’ve even been offered buttons to wear. I can proudly display my She, if I choose to.

Do workers today have more protections afforded them? And perks, and shiny, little specks of bling thrown at them to get them in the door, and seem to actually be treated as human beings by their employers? 

When I stopped working, I was not even wanted by my employer at the time. And I do think that was me personally. I’m not saying all employers are not actually wanting of their employees, but I do know I personally, felt extremely unappreciated. 

I was way overworked, way stressed out, had a mere one second of vacation time per year, and was just expected to suck it all up, and work harder and harder. And my salary could not afford me even a studio apartment near my employer. All for what? 

There was no enticement. There was no bonus. A raise at the exact rate of the cost of living adjustment - each year - and that basically meant my pay would stay the same every year of my employment. No real increase in relation to my job and skills and profession. No real raise based upon my performance. My individual circumstances were not ever taken into consideration. 

And I worked hard and harder. 

And ultimately, I ended up getting sick… and sicker...

Until the day I was too sick to work at all.

I lost my job.

Years later - 

I was officially defined as disabled by the federal government.

Disease without cure, that which would ultimately end in death and inability to work for the future of my life on this Earth.

There was no cure to what ailed me. So says my doctors, and the United States of America.

And I had to accept that fact to move on with my life. 

We’ve talked about my journey through chronic pain before, and the purpose of this post is not to re-discuss it here and now. But what is important today is - WHY. And HOW.

Why?


Why did I have the opportunity to go back to work?

Because faith can move mountains?

No.

But kinda.

HOW?

How - Because… faith lifted my very house up off the ground… and took me with it, and threw me into working once again.

I’ve accomplished more in these past five years since God saved my life, and the past two years of work, than probably all my other years of breathing, combined.

And it’s all attributable to my Foundation of Faith.

I was sick. And I was sicker. I was so very sick I did not know how to go on. With life. At all.

I felt 95 years old.

And I was in my 30’s.

I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t brush my teeth. I couldn’t put on some simple clothes and walk out the front door. And I couldn’t interact within society. Because I couldn’t even move. 

My foundation was solid. And heavy. And that’s what I thought was the right kind of foundation to have. 

But, I couldn’t move even if I tried... I was bolted to the floor.

However, little did I know at the time, a miracle was brewing.

Deep down in the underneathness of the earth, the swampy ground, far under where all of the alligators and snakes and cockroaches live, cause - Florida - that foundation began to move.

First it bubbled - like a spring. Disney Springs to be exact.

It bubbled until it shook itself clean off the ground.

And God decided to lift my entire freaking house, foundation included, off that wet ground. And pulled it on up into the sky. Taking me with it. Whether I wanted to go for a ride, or not.

I had no idea what was happening to me…

And.

I had no choice in the matter.

Because God did all the work for me.

And at the worst part of it all is that, I didn’t even know that God was doing all the work. He was hidden, you see, above all the balloons I was looking up at.

So, as I pondered before:

Does any of this make any sense to you?

I have come to believe that if this does not make sense to you… simply close your eyes. And then, let God make the next decision for you and your life. And afterwards, open your eyes back up, and you’ll probably understand what I’m trying to say to you here.

And if this DOES make sense to you right now… Keep on keepin’ on.

Because that rock solid foundation I told you about all along. The one so solid and hard and deeply buried in the wet or cold ground, the one you need for the worst of days, amidst the worst of tropical storms and hurricanes, to keep you afloat… it really doesn’t need to be hard at all. It doesn’t even need to be concrete. Or cinder block. Or brick. It doesn’t need to be huge and firm, like my home's foundation back in Illinois. In fact, it can be at grade. And it can be very thin. It can allow all the snakes and lizards and maybe even gators, to get inside your house. Because it doesn’t matter at all how strong the foundation really is. It only matters that God goes ahead and picks it up, and transports the entire kit and caboodle, you included, where you need to be. And where you are meant to be.

And if you do happen to see any snakes and gators along the route, with the flick of the wrist, God will send them packing.

When I went back to work almost two years ago, little did I know that at that very moment I was sitting in my first job interview, there was a virus circulating in China. One that would spread and engulf the entire globe by its presence. I never believed that by filling out a job application, I would end up having to maneuver around the suffocating evil that was airborne all around me. I just thought I was going back to work. As a person with a disability. As a person that constantly needed to watch out for my own protections in the workplace. Because no one can protect me at work but me. 

Within these past two years, I’ve had many hard, and harsh, and cruel, and disappointing, and exciting, and thrilling decisions to make, or be made, for me since I began working once again. 

I don’t talk about my disability or chronic pain in specifics. And I would never even dream about telling all the people I meet that I’ve met God before. And that He is by my side at this very moment. And He is the reason, and the only reason, that I punched in today, and that I punched out today… with every intention of coming right back tomorrow and doing the same thing all over again.

And I would never expect anyone else, including an employer, to understand any of this even if I did tell them. But I do have a very harsh resume gap. Being nearly 41 years old, and not working for a chunk of my adult life, there are bound to be questions. What in the heck have I been up to? Why do I want to work right now? Why should they hire me, without prior experience/s they may be needing from their employees? 

I can’t answer any of that. And nor do I intend to.

I can Attend though.

And I can perform. And from here on out, my job, and my work, is my choice. I choose what I can and cannot do. I know my limits. And I know the line I will never cross, just to earn money. 

And I’d like to think that today, unlike when I left the workplace many years ago now, it seems employers actually want their employees to grow, and succeed, with them. Maybe it’s now not - What can the employer get out of me? Before dumping me to the side of the road, to fend for myself?

I do believe that employers today understand that workers need to feel like human beings. With differences, and needs, and desires, and personal goals they want out of work. And we all may have different paths to take. And not meant to stay at the same place for 44 years of work life. That inevitably, we will move on. And our journey will change, and we may not be with them as long as they may want from us.

And that all of this is our choice, not theirs. We, the worker, guide the economy. And it’s not the other way around. 

But unfortunately, as I said before, a virus started circulating the globe, as I filled out job applications.

It spread, like wildfire, all unknown to the world, as I sat in job interviews.

There was talk about some silly little respiratory illness, but thousands of miles away, of course, as I began work and my orientation.

I was then being trained by day, and by night, listening to the news of a lockdown in Wuhan. Still so far away and foreign to me. What was there to worry about here? Everything, in fact.

And as I began really working day by day, all of a sudden a toilet paper explosion happened. And by explosion I do mean explosion. 

First, there was a mass run on toilet paper throughout the world.

And the world got weirder… and weirder.

But then the world of humans got even stranger… On the fifteenth day after the initial fifteen days to slow the spread, or, basically on the fifteenth day of the next thirty days to slow the spread, or otherwise known as April 15, 2020… a paper factory in Maine literally blew up.

And...

The stuff of dystopian movies are made of is exactly what these past two years of work throughout covid has been for me.

I’ve had the best job of my entire life - during the pandemic. I’ve had the worst. In these two years I’ve worked more new roles than in all the past twenty combined. 

I’ve trained, practiced, and studied. I’ve taken tests, and been certified, in this, and in that. 

And as the seasonality of the coronavirus and its strange and new variants have come and gone in haste, so too have other duties as assigned and staff and employers and their needs. I’ve gone up and down an endless roller coaster of surge... and wane. Flowing to the East, and back to the West. Up and down. Thrown on up into the sky. And then all the air comes out, deflated, and back into the swampy, snake infested mud I go once again. It’s been the ride of a lifetime. And to add to the strangeness of  working throughout covid… all the while when so many countless others have had the opportunity to stay home the entire time… literally makes all of it all the more surreal. 

I get foggy eyed, real fast.

Rubbing my eyes to make sure I’m seeing straight. This whole experience being indeed confusing, and quite messy.

I constantly find myself brushing the dirt off my feet, and sanitizing the palms of my hands.

I’ve tripped over my own two legs.

And I’ve fallen flat on my back.

And then I get right back up, for another wild ride.

My hands have been dirty. They’ve been greasy. They’ve been cut, black and blue, and swollen and blistered. They’ve handled and touched and transported substances I’ve never imagined I would be holding ever in this life I have upon Earth.

Is any of this really happening?

Or is it all just an endless dream? Or nightmare? And I just can’t wake myself up?

I don’t expect understanding or comprehension of my past, because it’s too confusing to even comprehend or understand myself. But I do expect - of myself - understanding and comprehension of one miraculous concept.

I made the choice to go back to work at the beginning of 2020. I consider myself in a very odd and strange position to be in life.

The cloud of virus storm brewing on the coastal horizon. Heading our way in secret, calm waves, across oceans to the American shores. No place on Earth left untouched. Human Resources Departments changed - forever. 

Bleh.

I’ve been working all throughout the pandemic... With a GD mask on. With orientations cut short. Gloves and PPE. Shortages of everything and anything you can think of. Last year - Not allowed to sit next to my coworkers during lunch. My job has changed. Roles. Duties. People. Policies. 

Hugging someone crying - not allowed. And then, all of us deciding together to hug and embrace anyways, cause covid policy be damned, if someone just lost a loved one, they are going to receive a hug. And I don’t care what CDC ‘guidelines’ have to say about it.

I’ve worked part time, full time, and overtime. I’ve worked strange hours. And I really and especially worked on those infamous other duties as assigned. Because what the heck is covid, if not falling directly under that final bullet point on almost any job description?

As corona surges, my job changed.

As corona wanes, my job changes once again.

Up and down.

Blowing in the wind. I’m thrown all over the place.

Trying desperately to watch my six.

Working for small wages, then more wages, then the best wages I’ve ever earned in my life, then even less wages once again. Phenomenal perks. No perks. Good hours. Bad hours. And some God awful really, really sucky hours.

And forever reminding myself that my work is not my life.

My life is also not my work.

My life is only, and forever will be, my faith.

And it is that delicate line, between my very faith and the exchange of money for labor, which I must always stay true to.

I’ve worked many a strange role, to help myself find where I am suited best, in my new work life. And, even more important to working with disability - My line in the sand has been drawn. I know, firmly, what I can do and will do, and will NOT do, for my employers. And I never once guessed that when I made the decision to work again two years ago, that I would ever even come up against that line itself. I always thought that borderline was so far away, that I never would have to truly worry about brushing up against it. But the awful truth is that - The place I never thought I would have to go - the line I know I will never cross, staying true to my own new life, my convictions, and my very Faith. I'm actually hitting up against that line, Every. Single. Day.

I am tested. And I am trialed. I am pushed to the very limits of my human heart. 

The roller coaster of emotion. And stress. And policy. And drama. Bureaucracy. And life changing experiences. Has anything really changed since I left the workplace years ago? It may very well be worse than it was well over a decade ago… I really don’t know.

And I have no idea where I’ll be thrown to next. 

I’m literally just going with the flow at this point. 

And...

I never could have done all that I’ve done…

Without faith in God.

But most importantly, I never could have done it if God didn’t pick me up, my entire house, foundation included, and thrown me on up into the sky, allowing me to flow in the wind, whichever way He deemed we sail. All the while, bracing myself, upon my Foundation of Faith.~

​

Hey Everyone!

Check out my first Youtube Short video! It only took me a few months to figure out how to post a thirteen second, on repeat video, lol.

I had a lot of fun making it, so let me know whatcha think please.

I hope y’all enjoy ;)
Christine

​

#shorts
#sheltielife
#dunkindonuts
#shetlandsheepdogs
#youtubeshorts
​

Over the last few months, #lastsupper might have well been trending every single day.

Because with every conversation I have had with another human being - this meal - this act - was a topic of conversation…

Where was your last dinner out?

What did you order?

Who were you with?

And even - what did you talk about?

Ahh, who were you with??? Before quarantine took us all over.

Were you with the ones you are with right now?

Were you with loved ones you now have not seen in eight weeks?

Separated by an invisible plague.

A plague that is wreaking havoc on civilization itself.

Were you celebrating a special occasion during that final meal? Or was the dinner out nothing special at all?... Just another day, just another outing. Not really having given it a passing thought.

There are lots of meaningful moments in a person’s life. Many moments that, when they are taking place, the person does not know it’s the last time. That’s why the old adage…

Live each day as if it were your last.

OR

You don’t know what you’ve got, till it’s gone.

So, maybe now is the time to ask yourself: Are you living each day? Yes, even during quarantine. Are you fully alive? Each and every single day. Regardless of place? Circumstance? Location? Setting? Situation? Finances? Limitations? Roadblocks? Mystery? Scarcity? Hope? Fear?

I am. And I have been, living, each day.

For three years.

I am fully ALIVE.

Pandemic…

Or no pandemic.

I am alive. And I am living my very best life.

I was fully alive before the world changed, and I am extremely grateful to be fully alive during it. And I’m still completely and 100% alive, as the world awakens, opens up their front doors, and steps off their front porches… many, for the first time, in a very long time.

You see, I was already out there… standing in the street… looking inward, toward humanity, inside their houses. Just waiting for y'all to come on out again. And join me. In life.

Because life - in Florida - means fresh air. While it was winter, and a cold and rainy spring, in many areas of the country, during this horrific shutdown, living in Florida during this plague was an extra special blessing to be from God Himself.

I was able to still walk outside, and get fresh, warm air, every single day. I was able to sit on my balcony, outside, every single day. I was able to literally soak in my vitamin D. The vitamin they keep discussing in the news as being imperative to fight CoVid19.

So, I’m happy to FINALLY see and hear of many other people starting their own venture outward. Yes, even New York is seeing signs of hope and life again. So, as the weather turns warmer, and brighter, in other parts of the world, many others can now also soak in their daily vitamin D. Have their coffee on their balconies. And get outside.

I’m happy to be joined with the sea of humanity as they open their front doors.

Many are afraid.

Many are terrified.

Many are following guidelines, plans, and executive, gubernatorial orders, or newly enacted city ordinances.

And, yes, many are stepping off their front porch steps at the very same time.

So, I’m out here to say to those who are starting out right now...

Hello.

Welcome back.

And -

There’s a life to live out there.

Life is happening - whether we know it or not - whether we like it or not - and whether we want it to or not.

And life is, merely and once again, your reaction, to other actions.

I am showing you my reaction.

People are craving normalcy. People want to socialize. And people want to go out to eat.

Well, we, in Florida, were able to finally do just that.

For the first time in over two months.

We dined out.

We sat outside. We were far away from other humans. And we had a great meal. As we gazed at a gorgeous, waterfront setting.

We traveled down the winding Palm Valley Road toward the bridge.

Nestled and tucked under that large expanse of a hovering bridge is the Palm Valley Outdoors Bar & Grill. Located at 377 South Roscoe Boulevard in Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida, the location really is perfect as well.

On a bright and shiny and blue sky day, we arrived at the Grill for a lovely lunch outing.

We planned our outing to go earlier in the day, rather than later. My work schedule has me going to bed early, so we usually end up with a lot of lunches out - instead of dinners.

But considering this was a first meal of sorts, and it was a birthday celebration, both hubby and I were extra excited to arrive - no matter what the time was.

We knew it would take a while. We knew they had just recently opened to the public once again for dine-in service. We were prepared to wait, long.

And all their signage around the building told me another story… That they were open during the worst. That they were doing curbside pick up - and even dock side pick up, for boaters.

I was extra grateful to be a dine-in patron that day.

We had about a one and a half hour wait… They had told us about 35 minutes, it ended up being a lot longer, obviously.

No problem.

We knew what we were getting into by dining at a restaurant just after an official re-opening to the public. In my mind, I treated this outing as the equivalent of visiting a restaurant on their first day of operation - a new business. A restaurant’s first day is always a huge mountain to climb. Always a challenge. And yet, no one seemed to be bothered by the wait. But it’s kinda hard to be bothered with anything at all when this is the setting:

I cut my burger in half, and had the other half for dinner that night - my way of watching calorie intake during that outing.

The steak French fries were from Heaven. Because - again - key word being - fried.

We chose not to have dessert there, as I had special-ordered a few cupcakes from Cinotti’s Bakery to act as the birthday cake dessert, that we would eat at home later that evening.

We thoroughly enjoyed our meal. But the setting was what we especially enjoyed. And it was the action itself of dining out. Leaving the house, driving to a restaurant, reading a menu, and dining amongst others, that was most important to us on that date.

Overall, the Palm Valley Outdoors Bar & Grill was a lovely experience. A great birthday outing. And a fabulous place to try if it happens to be your First Supper as well. The tables are spaced plenty distance apart, and the restaurant is following all the cleaning protocols in place. With employees wearing gloves, and lots of santitzing tables between customers. The setting is more than ideal, with the Intracoastal as a backdrop, and tucked just under and off to the side of the Palm Valley Bridge.

You’ll enjoy the boats coming and going. Paddleboarders going north and south. And you may especially enjoy the countless doggies - sitting on the edge of their owner’s boats. Also taking in all the sights and sounds… and smells… of the salt life, and good food.

It is my sincere hope that for those of you in states where restaurants have also been approved to reopen, just like in Florida, that you use the experience of my First Supper, as a push to get out there yourself. For those still anxiously waiting for your own First Supper. Go ahead and get ready now. Your time is coming. To start your own venture outside. To open your own front door. To step off that front porch. Find yourself an open restaurant. Wait All The Minutes. Get seated. And have a lovely meal. Have your very own First Supper. And, what the heck, maybe even order dessert while you’re at it.

It’s ok to be scared. And by all means, it’s also mostly certainly ok - to be very uncertain. And, just like The Last Supper, it’s ok if you don’t yet know when your First Supper will be. Just keep it in mind. Plan for it. Get it in your head. Because one day, and maybe when you least expect it, it will come to you.

And you can ask yourself - will you be fully alive on that fateful day? Will you be living that day like it’s your last on this Earth? Will you remember the moment - so you know what you’ve got, when it’s gone? And then, finally, who will you be with when that date arrives? ~

Remember when it was somebody’s birthday? Ohhhh, so very, very long ago…

Candles would be lit. A song would be sung. And the birthday boy, or birthday girl, would take in a big breath - with their lungs - and blow out all the candles.

And then everybody would clap.

The cake would be sliced. Every piece passed around - a plate of deliciousness for all at the party. Everybody sharing, in an act of celebration. Another person a year older - another piece of cake to commemorate the occasion.

A fork in one hand. A plate of frosted, sugary goodness in the other.

And without giving it a second thought, everyone would bite into their slice of dessert, even though somebody had just previously breathed upon said cake?

Sacrilege!

Those moments are now gone.

But a girl can dream - right?

No one will look at a birthday cake the same way again now.

Because, while we all still may eat the cake, the sentiment just isn’t the same. And while we all still may sing a song… and candles can still be blown out… the world has once again changed.

And I miss that corresponding sentiment.

I miss a whole lot more than just that though.

I miss it all...

I miss coffee shops.

I miss restaurants.

I miss saying, “Table for two.” - Instead of “Two dinners to go, please.”

I miss smiles on unhidden faces.

I miss laughter.

I miss jokes.

I miss friends.

I miss family.

I miss parties.

I miss the library.

I miss fairs, carnivals, rides, cotton candy, and sno cones.

I miss Art Shows, Art Walks, Art Festivals, craft shows, and concerts.

And I still don’t miss nfl football.

I miss my once a year and very boring visit to the Florida Highway Safety and Motor Vehicle Department. Otherwise known as the FLHSMV. In fact, I miss that a whole heck of a lot more than football.

And I missed out on the opportunity to see Hamilton - right here in Jacksonville, back in March. My tickets - sadly, refunded to my credit card.

I miss the smell of a book, just picked up from the library, as I crack open the spine.

I miss handshakes.

I miss milk shakes.

I miss hugs.

I miss kisses on the cheek.

I miss the darn dentist.

I miss joy and good cheer.

I miss good will to all people.

I miss Christmas.

I miss Walt Disney World.

I miss All-You-Can-Eat Buffets.

I miss unlimited scoops of ice cream, from large tubs, on the dessert line of the above-mentioned buffet. Where I can pick up my own cup, take the cold steel scoop, push it with my own hands into the milky cream, releasing chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry into my own cup. My very own ice cream mountain - as high as I want to make it.

I miss simple get togethers - large and small. I miss people’s faces when I communicate with them. I miss the act of meeting up with those fellow humans - in person. In real life.

I miss being able to hear that fellow human being, clearly, when they speak to me - their unmuffled voice carrying into my ears, and the sound of it not being blocked by a cloth mask.

I miss people treating one another as fellow human beings - and not treating others as the walking plague.

I miss closeness.

I miss happiness all around us.

I miss people leaving their house like it was just another day.

I miss life… I miss seeing other people living their lives.

I miss faith over fear.

But just because I miss all these very simple things, doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing them, and living them, myself.

In fact, I’ve been the busiest in my entire life - during the long and drawn out and quite dramatic duration of this entire, never-ending plague.

Regardless of life outside my own front door. I am breathing. I am communicating. I am celebrating. I am being responsible for myself. I am making my own life decisions. I am sucking it up. I am dealing. I am not only surviving. I am proud and happy to be fully alive. I am living.

I am reading. I am planning. I am dreaming. I am pursuing. I am working hard. I am exercising. I am writing. I am painting. I am utilizing this time to become stronger. To learn. To grow. To try new things.

And most importantly, I am persevering.

And I am coming home from work - and I’m stepping right in the shower, washing the invisible and mysterious and confusing plague off me each night.

And, I’ve learned a lot. And I’ve learned what I already always knew - how imperative each breath we take really is.

So let’s all inhale.

Breathe in - In the face of fear.

Exhale - and keep going, my friends. Exhale and continue onward. Exhale and push forward. Exhale and persevere.

And if it happens to be your birthday, go ahead and exhale a big breath straight onto your very own birthday cake candles...

Yes, I know that’s exactly what we will be doing this weekend.

As we celebrate my hubby’s birthday, we will dine out, along the water’s edge, for our First Supper since the plague began. We will sit at tables, amongst other human beings. All partaking in the common and essential act of breathing, and eating.

And I will pick up the special cupcake creations I ordered from Cinotti’s Bakery. And I will slap some candles on top of the frosted red velvety goodness. I will light the flame.

And I will sing “Happy Birthday!”

And my furry baby will probably sing a lot louder than me.

And most importantly, my hubby will then inhale with his own set of two lungs, and exhale hard on top of all the frosting, extinguishing that flame. And then we will eat all the darn sugar. ~

*Have you been to Breezy’s? Have you missed Starbucks as much as I have during this crazy pandemic? I’d love to know. Drop me a comment down below:

Also, for the rest of Bean’s Coffee Shop Challenge - check out the links below:
69] Chaunie’s Coffee Truck
67] Delicious & Delightful Days @ The Delicomb
60] Welcome To Muffin Land ~ The Ugly Cupcake & Muffinry
48] Love & Donuts In The Air @ Beaches For Australia
44] Nothing Finer Than Coffee In The Keys ~ The Coffee Plantation Cafe
39] The Very Official & Quite Serious Donut Debate Of 2020
9] Sago Coffee: A Cup Of Friendly & Flavorful Florida

Plus, if there’s a diner in town - I’ve been there! And if there’s one you think I need to visit - PLEASE - let me know! You can check out my visits to many local area diners, right here:
57] First Watch on the First Coast
50] Sundays Are For Diners ~ Super Diners
40] Visiting The Florida Cracker Kitchen ~ Jacksonville
19] Another Broken Egg Cafe ~ A Taste Of NOLA @ The Beach
16] Beach Diner ~ If You Feed Them They Will Come

I grew up without social media.

I consider myself blessed for being able to say that.

While every generation has their “thing” - I firmly believe my generation's thing is the fact that we grew up entirely without social media, but we are now living our adult lives with social media present in the world. And because of those circumstances, we have a great ability to easily and fluidly shift between old-world applications, and the more new-age digital apps - making us uniquely qualified for certain tasks in this world. We shift seamlessly and adapt easily. I call us the Floating Generation.

And regardless if we partake in this modern day medium, or not, it’s there. It has an extremely large presence in the world. For better and for worse. An all almost too-powerful of a presence.

And, sadly, in my opinion, many people revolve nearly their entire lives around this medium.

I graduated college in 2003. I survived four years of college entirely without social media. The only “Facebook” we had was the literal and actual paper face-book that was distributed each year on campus. All incoming students were given a light and thin paperback book with the names, faces, and phone numbers of each of their classmates.

That was our official Facebook at the time. And we used it - religiously. That book was part of our daily life. We would scroll through it to find somebody’s name, browsed to see what everyone looked like, searched to find out where a person was from, and scan to find their four digit campus extension to call them on the phone… a phone with a cord - that was plugged into the wall.

But in 2004, and after I was done with school, Mark Zuckerburg went ahead and invented Facebook. And the world has never been the same since.

It was my first full year after school. I was living in the real world. I didn’t need Facebook, and nor did I want it. Besides, at the time, Zuckerberg’s Facebook was geared more toward being a digital supplement to that old-fashioned face book I described above. Still utilized, on college campuses, to connect with one another.

But over the years, Facebook grew. It grew fast. And it grew big. It grew to be something that is now an integral part of most people's lives.

I personally think Facebook is too big. And too powerful. I think it is hovering on the verge of being a monopoly and in dire need of being broken up. And I’ve never, ever, had a desire to be a part of it. Even still.

But then, after many, many years of living and going through life, without Facebook, and still not wanting any part of it, I was on the verge of making a big change in my personal life.

It was 2016, and I was planning my big move from the state of Illinois, on down to Florida. That move would eventually occur in early 2017.

Every single person I knew, and loved, lived in Illinois - or a variety of other states throughout the country. But I knew ZERO people in The Sunshine State at the time.

I wanted a way to stay connected to all those I knew I would be missing… a thousand miles away from everything I knew.

I deliberated long and hard with myself about potentially signing up for a Facebook account. And eventually, at the end of 2016, I went ahead and registered - for the first time in my life. Knowing that I would be easily connected in a free and easy and modern manner.

I immediately discovered that “the whole world” is on Facebook. I found all my old classmates, neighbors, relatives who live near and far, friends from grade school, people I haven't seen in 20 years, and all my current friends. And I even made new friends. All through Facebook.

But, I did all this right before the 2016 Presidential Election.

And unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past many years, and haven’t paid attention to the news, you know very well that the political side of Facebook, and all social media, is NASTY.

No other way to put it.

It was through Facebook that I discovered people I know and love say things online that I never heard them say in person.

When people are behind a digital screen, they have a lot to say, and they say it loud and proud. Fine. Whatever. Everyone in America deserves their free speech.

I can very easily block out mentally and physically that which I do not want to hear.

But it does get a little old.

I came for social connectivity. I didn’t come for the constant electioneering, and to learn who voted for who - all day long.

So I tried to ignore the politics, and zone in on the photos.

And it turns out my absolute favorite part of Facebook was, and is still, those photos.

I also realized that social media is the single best way to find out all the latest social news, gossip, and any and all information about life changes involving people you know. The stuff I was looking for all along.

I found myself completely up to date on the latest pregnancy announcements, gender reveals, baby showers, births, deaths, obituaries, accidents, injuries, illnesses, new home purchases, engagements, Say-Yes-To-The-Dress days, wedding showers, marriages, anniversaries, birthdays, pet adoption days, Gotcha Days, National Cheesecake Day, International MisMatching Sock Day, Taco Tuesday, Touch-A-Truck Days, Nurses Day, Teacher Appreciation Day, Star Wars Day, Bird Day, Hoagie Day, National Roast Leg Of Lamb Day - May 7th, in case you were wondering.

The list is endless.

May 8th - National Coconut Cream Pie Day.

June 26th - National Take Your Dog To Work Day.

And, just so they can give themselves yet another plug, while you’re already on their applications all day long... We have June 30th - National Social Media Day.

Every day is something.

And guess what else?

EVERY PERSON IS OFFENDED BY SOMETHING ELSE.

That’s one of the most valuable things l learned by joining social media.

Why don’t we have:
International-World-Renowned-I-Take-Offense-To-That-Statement Day?

I learned that everyone cares what everyone else thinks. I learned that people are very sensitive. I learned that when people write something online - they think it is pure gold. And I learned that if any single person disagrees with another, in any way - it’s the actual end of the world for that relationship.

DISAGREEMENT = NUCLEAR BOMBS GOING OFF EVERYWHERE.

Hence all the hate, the back-and-forth, the petty comments, the blocking, the unblocking, the following, the unfollowing. That all - also - never ends.

And since I really don’t care what other people think, I am, once again, able to function with or without social media in my life, just fine.

I joined to see photos of my friends and family and their babies and their wedding showers. But instead, it’s more about why this person hates whoever the current president happens to be.

So, after about a year and a half of being digitally social, and being sick of it all, I gave it all up.

When I left Facebook, I also gave up my Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. I had initially joined the mothership, but I had then joined the other big three soon after.

And while I nearly despise and almost hate Facebook, I absolutely LOVE Instagram. I am a very visual person though, and as I said before, I enjoy the photos. Instagram is all imagery. A great place to post all my travel photos and latest artwork, and to see those actual photos that I was seeking out when I joined Facebook initially.

I had used Pinterest just for fun.

And I found that the best benefit of Twitter was for hurricanes.

Yes, you read me right - hurricanes.

No sooner than I moved down to Florida, Hurricane Irma blew through later that year. She was a big one. And caused the whole state to be in an uproar. We were evacuated. Twitter was VITAL to me during the hurricane.

And while lots of apps and websites didn’t work under bad internet service at the time, Twitter stayed on strong. So did Facebook. You’ve heard about how if you have bad cell service during an emergency - when all the lines are tied up - that it may be easier to send a text for help instead of trying to get through on the phone, right? Think that for Twitter in this modern day... I found that utilizing social media during the worst of the hurricane, to get my news, was the very best way, to get the actual news.

We live on an island, with not even a handful of bridges to cross over during a hurricane evacuation. The bridges do close down when the winds reach a certain mile per hour - sustained.

I quickly started “following” the local news channels plus the three local beach towns, their mayors, the City of Jacksonville, and the Jax mayor, all on Twitter. They all provided a wealth of factual information to me all throughout the duration of the storm. It brought some level of certainty - communication - to me, during a time of great uncertainty.

I also followed the American Red Cross, the National Weather Service, Publix, Winn Dixie, our governor and two senators, Beaches Energy Services, Jacksonville Electric Authority - JEA, all the local area fire and police departments, JSO - Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office, the St. Johns River Ferry, the National Hurricane Center, JaxReady, the Jacksonville Public Library, oh yeah, and Dunkin Donuts… Because you can’t survive a hurricane without donuts, right?

But after I went ahead and quit social media, I then went through the following storm seasons entirely without social media. Which led to a much more “manual” and old-fashioned form of finding out the news, when the internet was overloaded and the next storms were nearing us.

When the next hurricanes blew through and around us, and I was on my zero social media experiment of 69 weeks, I literally dug through the closet and pulled out an old-fashioned radio. I was ready, just in case the power went out, to listen to the news that way. But nothing I did was in any way a comparison to Twitter. And social media would have been almost priceless to me during those next storms.

But willing to stick it out, I made it through alive and well. No social media. No damage.

Ultimately, I quit all social media after about a year and a half of being on. I did NOT miss it. I was focused solely on my own personal well being and sanity. I left for my own mental health. A completely selfish decision. But very grateful that I did.

When I signed back up after 69 weeks of being away from The Zuck, I had to start my accounts from scratch. I had completely deleted all of them. So it was an official starting over process. Sort of like being a toddler and learning to walk again. I had to re-find all of my friends and family there. It took a while, but I found most of them.

During those 69 weeks without social media, I focused strictly and selfishly on my own well being and daily productivity. And now that I have social media back in my life, after that extended absence, I am able to have a fabulous life balance of living with social media applications in complete confidence. And today, having Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest, back in my life, I am even more productive than I ever have been.

I run my life. I don’t let social media run my life. I never did. But some people do.

I think if people can find that balance, they will feel a lot better and at peace with the existence of social media in their worlds.

No, I don’t think social media is going anywhere. I think and see it remaining a huge part of people’s lives into the future.

And that’s also one of the reasons I came back.

In that time away, I set up my own website, a lifestyle blog, an Etsy shop, a place to showcase all my art and writing. But if I want to actually reach people with the things I write and show my paintings to the world, social media remains one of the best ways to do it.

I might write a blog twice a week, but my utilization of social media to help it get out there and maybe reach that one, singular person who may benefit from a specific article in some way, is the point of me sharing it all, on social media.

So while I do despise Facebook, and did have a near love/hate relationship with it in the past… I have now turned that relationship into merely a like/dislike relationship. I can live peacefully with Zuckerberg in my life now, and I know the exact purposes of my visits to each of the other mediums as well.

I still go back to Pinterest simply as a brain teaser, for creative solutions to new ideas.

I go to Twitter for hurricane and rough surf and coastal storm news. Or in today’s new world, pandemic and apocalyptic plague news… charts and graphs and statistics that change by the day. Announcements, once again, by our leaders and representatives on important matters.

I go to Instagram to share all my favorite photos. And see everyone else’s.

And I go back to the now old and trusty and reliable Facebook for those wedding announcements. Babies being born. And yes, in my 69 weeks away, I had friends who had babies, that I never even knew about because I was away from Facebook. When I joined back up I discovered that an old friend endured an entire pregnancy, birth, and had a new baby in her life. Her second child, I never even knew about, in this world. So yeah - Facebook is THE way to communicate with friends and family in this digital era.

And, since I’ve been back, I haven’t missed out on one birth announcement, I know who is pregnant, who is getting married, who died, and I read all the obituaries shared that way. I see in real time who made a roast in their crock pot for dinner, plus which sides they cooked with it. Then, I get the recipe.

I get to see friends travel to Hawaii, and Iceland, and Costa Rica. I see family travel to Disney. I see Dollywood and weekends at a cabin in Michigan. I see special Friday night date nights and fancy dinners out. I see birthday parties and special cakes. I see first haircuts, first baby steps, and first days of school.

I see my nephews' latest milestones as they age from infants, to toddlers, to little boys. School age children who make their first communions and have their grade school graduations. Those pictures, to me, a thousand miles away from all my relatives, are priceless. And all free to share back and forth with these social mediums.

And - I see politics. Yes, politics is still there. And as you may guess, it’s worse than ever. I see Civil War. I call it Civil War 2.0. I see and know who hates President Trump, and I know who loves President Trump. I know who is conservative and who is liberal. And I mostly try to ignore it all - and just laugh at it.

I am glad I left social media for 69 weeks. I am extremely happy with and 100% confident in my decision to ultimately come back to social media. Especially considering how very far away I live from all my family and most of my friends. And I am still, and forever grateful, that I grew up in a world without social media in it.
​#BLESSED ~

P.S. - No, I am NOT on TikTok. ~~

Part of - Bean’s Coffee Shop Challenge - series

Well I never thought I’d live to see the day that Starbucks is closed. I mean - like - really closed. Not closed early; not closed for a holiday; not closed for training. Just - closed. With no predetermined opening date either. In the Jax Beaches area, at least.

Sigh.

The CoVid19 crisis is certainly upending all types of area businesses at this point. Large and small, local and chain. There is nothing remaining that is unaffected in some way by the coronavirus at this point.

And Starbucks has been closed for many days now - a few weeks actually. The place that I have relied upon for outings of all kinds, remains shuttered. I’ve been there on vacation, I’ve been there on the funnest days of my life. On Thanksgiving Day... On Christmas Day... I’ve been there in New Orleans, sitting inside the window, watching the electric street car go past on the outside. I’ve been there on the hardest days of my life. I’ve been there in Rochester, Minnesota, on days with the coldest sub-zero temperatures I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ve shared iced frappuccinos with my dearest friends, while standing on Main Street USA. I’ve been there for meetings. For friendship. For chatting. For reading. And, oh yeah, for some coffee, too.

So, with Starbucks literally being closed, and me still leaving the house every single day for work and life, I’ve been seeking out all the small coffee shops in town. Anyplace - and anywhere - that still has their doors open. Just like my recent outings to the Ugly Cupcake & Muffinry, and The Delicomb. If it’s open, I’ll be trying it.

I’ve always been a fan of all the chain shops and equally all the small shops. Which is why I started Bean’s Coffee Shop Challenge to begin with. Basically, if it’s coffee - I tend to be a fan. In fact, I may like coffee just as much as I like donuts.

Yeah, I guess those bold beans are basically up there at the top of the list for me. So today I’m extremely happy to showcase another exciting and very unique coffee adventure in the greater Jax area: Chaunie’s Coffee Truck!

And all it took was a virus, a global plague, and complete and total economic destruction, to finally lead me there! And to the absolute cutest truck in town, by the way.

I have actually been searching out Chaunie and her truck for a couple of years. A few years back I had my first iced latte from Chaunie’s while they were parked at an Art Walk in Jax Beach. But considering the entire business concept of a food truck is on wheels, and moving around, my schedule has simply never matched that of her truck, since my initial introduction to it back in the day at that fest.

But then, just recently, I happened to find her Instagram page. So I followed, and started watching where she was going to be each day. Noticing a day scheduled in Ponte Vedra Beach, on my day off, and it was finally a date.

We drove around the town of Ponte Vedra Beach - the small coastal town just south of Jax Beach, and found Chaunie’s black and minimalist and very cool truck, parked in the Ponte Vedra Lakes neighborhood, next to a small pond at the very end of a cul de sac.

And really, this whole pandemic “thing” going on in the world is what made me decide to go ahead and just buy the darn thing already.

Cause there’s nothing like a pandemic surrounding a respiratory virus to prove how important fresh air really is.

And our walks must go on. So the first day of this whole crisis that our little creature started limping, once again... was the very day I went ahead and placed the order.

I refuse to have her “stuck” at home just because she couldn’t walk very far. Especially with her humans still out there exercising and walking and getting their fresh air - and the world in crisis… It just didn’t seem right to have to cut the walk short for her, or leave her at home altogether, just so we could go on a very long walk without her.

So I made the executive decision to visit Chewy.com. And I quickly bought what I’m calling her buggy - her new ride.

Now Miss Madeline can ride around town in style. And not miss out. On FRESH AIR. That we all need in this life. Plague - or no plague. Because fresh air can do wonders. For doggies too!

So I purchased the Paws & Pals Deluxe Folding Dog & Cat Stroller, in black. The cost was $129.99, plus $9.10 in tax, for a total of $139.09. And yes, you can zip a cat in the netting, allowing them to sit, safely, so they can’t escape! How cool!

Free shipping goes along with any purchase through Chewy costing $49.00 or more. And I set up a free Chewy account while I was at it - so now we can order dog food and medicine and other supplies if needed as well.

I don’t anticipate needing to buy much from the site, as most all of her purchases are made at Petsmart, in person, and not online. But then again, I’m always happy to try out new or different pet suppliers.

And mostly I’m just happy we finally made this purchase for our little angel.

Then the day came when our stroller “finally” arrived to us - with impressively fast shipping actually. And we went on a lovely Sunday morning stroll. And I’m so happy that Madeline absolutely loved her buggy! She walked shorter than her usual route - and slower - and I could tell she was done, tired, in pain. This was when we normally would have gone immediately home. But noooo - not today! Prepared for everything - we finally were!

We plopped our little ball of fluff into her new and comfy seat. We gave her some ice water. And then we continued onward. We walked for a much longer time period. Like - a lot longer. We walked a length that Madeline never would have been able to do and something I usually do all by myself. But this Sunday we were able to do it as a family of three! For the very first time.

So it was a very good Sunday indeed.

And we even made it to The Delicomb - once again. Enroute home on our walk, we just so happened to walk past the coffee shop, and quickly ordered two large lattes to go. You know I didn’t happen to plan things that way, right?

And then, as our lovely Sunday morning stroll was reaching its conclusion, we were headed toward home and sipping our coffee, I saw something blue on the ground. I can’t see for anything, and from a distance I thought it was a piece of trash. But we got closer and I let out a gasp.

*Part of - Bean’s Coffee Shop Challenge - series

How does one “do” coffee shop outings during a pandemic? In-and-out is the basic and simple answer - in this, our new and current reality.

After my visit to the Ugly Cupcake & Muffinry a couple weeks ago, plus many recent visits to other local area restaurants for take-out, I knew exactly what to expect when I decided to visit the Delicomb this week. And I wasn’t surprised at all but the sight of my surroundings.

*Have you been to The Delicomb? What coffee shop are you desperately missing right now? I’d love to know. Drop me a comment down below:

And to check out the rest of Bean’s Coffee Shop Challenge, as well as reviews of various Floridian diners - check out the links below:
9] Sago Coffee: A Cup Of Friendly & Flavorful Florida
16] Beach Diner ~ If You Feed Them They Will Come
19] Another Broken Egg Cafe ~ A Taste Of NOLA @ The Beach
40] Visiting The Florida Cracker Kitchen ~ Jacksonville
44] Nothing Finer Than Coffee In The Keys ~ The Coffee Plantation Cafe
48] Love & Donuts In The Air @ Beaches For Australia
50] Sundays Are For Diners ~ Super Diners
57] First Watch on the First Coast
60] Welcome To Muffin Land ~ The Ugly Cupcake & Muffinry

When, in your current reality, it may be more like this:
What can I focus on today… to simply make it through the day alive?

You see, in order to make it through a situation successfully, historically, people who survive intact and come out living and breathing on the other end, have focused on the little things. Whether it’s second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, week by week, month by month, and year by year. Focus entirely needs to be on the present moment. And the simple routine of daily life. And then, those simple and small moments, add up to perseverance, add up to survival, and add up to the journey, and to life itself.

And right now, amidst all the uncertainty of the CoVid19 pandemic, many people are stuck at home. Many people are confined and sheltering-in-place. Many people are alone. Many people are bored. Many people are working their behinds off. Many - countless people - on the front lines of this world war, are stressed to the max, while literally putting their lives on the line for others. And many people - whatever they are doing, or not doing - are trying to make it through another day on this, our Earth.

So, as I write about the little things in life - today, I wanted to finally take the time to highlight a very small, and a very special park, on a lovely little street corner in my little beach town.

Yes - There’s a great little park in Jax Beach that you should definitely check out in the future.

And unless you and your area is currently under a shelter-in-place order or official quarantine, etc., my guess is that you’ll still be trying to get some fresh air at some point each day. While making every effort to stay home as well.

We are still going to the grocery store, and picking up take out, and going to pharmacies, and getting fuel in the car. And lots of people are still in need of walking their dogs. And many who are able are going for walks themselves.

So the really great thing about this seaside park is the fact that it has absolutely nothing that you should or need to be actually physically touching in any way. It’s all sculpture. It’s all art. On display. It’s all to look at. It’s all to gaze upon. It’s a great place to safely get some fresh air while you may be practicing social distancing. It’s located directly next door to the Ugly Cupcake & Muffinry. And most importantly, of course, it’s right on the oceanfront.

So, no need to worry about spreading or catching germs while gazing at beautiful art in the fresh coastal air.

Seaside Sculpture Park, located @ 480 1st Street South, in Jacksonville Beach, Florida, really is one of the little hidden gems in this small coastal town I call home.