The "What the Hell Were You Thinking Mind-to-Mind Transfer Ring", or how I began an accidental startup

 When I was in my corporate job, I had this plastic blue jewel ring I'd slip over my right forefinger for those times:  "When nobody with a lick of logic would ever be able to figure out what the ever-lovin' fuck the eedjit was talking about." And yes, I did have a workplace accident one day when I smashed this a bit "enthusiastically" into the forehead of a co-worker while demonstrating its power. It was so powerful, it got away with me and it took my friend the rest of the week before he got within arms length of me again, but he did eventually forgive me. 

I know what you're saying, "Why would anyone in their right mind want to START building a company at an age when most people "should be" evaluating golf course living? Maybe move into Disney World or travel the earth and the Seven Seas (or at least try more than two of their dressings). The fact is, I didn't. I'd already had two products fail and I'd spent two years working on those products and giving disappointing interviews for jobs I never wanted.  When I came to terms with the last product (Dirty Data Girl, "We clean your data, so you don't have to!") was a deader, I caved to my hubster's request in 2018 to sell our home. Yes.  Our home of 27 years, the one we'd blown out the back & built into the 2nd story, the house where every member of my family had spent time pulling up carpet, laying tile, plastering or painting walls, the one where we'd installed our "forever kitchen" - until the house was a personalized, quirky, beautiful home.

So, this is the beginning of the story which needs the help of The Mind-to-Mind TransferRing to understand.

We live in a neighborhood which rezoned from single-family to some level of low-rise.  Developers actually knock at our door to offer us "top dollar". And while that's a whole other story, the point was that hubster was going to be able to quit his job before the age of 59 1/2 and we were going to live off the proceeds of the house sale. Needless to say a few bait & switches later, we'd packed our house & I had created a couple of tools to help with our next move planning.  I have to say, I'm proud of one of the tools I built where I had to learn "truck" language. It matched trailers to truck size. 

The other plan we'd thought about was moving back to my old stomping ground in rural NE Georgia. My Mom, who has dementia, had chosen to remain there while she could still make decisions. She knew it would be permanent and because her kids lived in Washington state and Alaska, she knew once she declined to move while she could that we would be separated. So, that's when I started on the original model which became Willowfinch. I wanted to answer the question for myself if there were enough properties of interest in the area, at the price - not of my home valuation - but based upon my mortgage because saving money would be the whole point behind moving from our dream home with its (now) 30-year old garden. 

So, this is the start of the origin story of Willowfinch.

What Next?

We put our house on the market.  We did it a week ago Friday. Interest is high.

Colette did a reading for me in July, this Fool walking off the edge is one reason why I finally said "yes." Dirty Data Girl is not not just not scalable, there's no margin at all. It makes a good t-shirt & twitter handle though.

What happens after you sell your Dream Home?

It's all about

my Craftmatic Adjustable Bed, because YES, my back has chosen yet another way to kink itself in the midst of me decompressing from being unemployed.  I think I might be allergic stressless situations, or maybe stress is the only thing (not love) which keeps me together.

So, here is a picture of my adjustable bed

and my PJs

Just when you thought it was safe

Even I'm calling my holidays over.  It's Monday, January 5th, 2015 and I'm ready to get back into it, but "it" is all self-motivated stuff.  I'm trying to figure out what I want to do next but I'm up to Entrepreneurial Venture 73, and am trying to multi-task between restarting my coursera courses; work on my chandelier;  work on my blog / newsletter, updating my email list for my personal blog; start refinishing the Eames bent plywood chairs I bought for a lark; researching Etsy stores; updating my resume; and restarting my perma-diet.

One thing at a time...  even though I think my brain just exploded on the sandwich plate.  That said, here's one thing I did finish following through on - getting a better picture for LinkedIn.  My friend, Leslie, helped me overcome my morbid fear of the Cosmetic Sales persons and since she speaks Beauty, she helped me navigate a makeover at Nordstroms.  Well, actually, now I've had three because I need lessons.  It's not like I was born with the knowledge of how to apply lipstick as though it were a homing instinct.  There are RULES to be followed.  I now know this:  "Dramatic lips, neutral eyes.  Dramatic eyes, neutral lips."

I can follow the dots just fine on this.  I feel like I've actually gotten a nap.

The Art of Making Lists

It is a Tuesday.  

Standing under the shower this morning I had the urge to remain until the hot water ran out.  It feels like I've run a long race.  I'm winded and want to lean over, hands braced against my knees, try to catch my breath.  Even though I'm technically on vacation, even though technically I'm not retired, and technically my Monday retirement date is in doubt because of yet another glitch in The System, I can feel the freefall.

Today I picked up my pen again.  While this long weekend has been fun, it's been quite busy.  I've cancelled my walking appointments because I really don't know what I want to do when.  Even so, the calendar alarms are going to have their volumes dropped a bit.  It doesn't mean that my memory is getting any better, it means I've become entranced with the idea of hand-moving-across-the-paper and notecards again.  I pulled out my 3x5 notecards and began to scrawl reminders for the day, then made one for tomorrow, then one for Thursday.  That was as far as I could get before I didn't want to plan any longer.

We're off to see the Marsala

The fortified wine, Marsala, is made on this island. We're at the northwestern part of Sicily, Marsala is in the southwestern part. We woke up at 6:30 this morning. We are soooo over jet lag and back into the middle-aged restless sleep that we feel just like we're at home. Cefalu sits at the base of La Rocca, a piedmont thrusting onto the Mediterranean surrounded by the frozen tufa of a forgotten eruption. The bougainvillea and oleander are in bloom,the green comes from thistle, cactii, and arbor vitae instead of softer grassesn and blooming cherry trees of Seattle. We're up before the B&B breakfast will be prepared so we'll go down our 67 steps to the piazza below, order cappuccini and eat the Sicilian croissant. These are not crispy as much as they are like a very soft roll. There always seems to be some surprised stuffed in them. We still haven't gotten the phone situation figured out. Sunday was Sunday and only jewelry, clothing, shoe, and jewelry stores were open (yes, the duplication of "jewelry" was intentional. There are that many jewelry stores). Yesterday, once we finally found a store, we realized we hadn't brought a passport. So, we are a mess - and what else is new?

There are 67 steps up to the B&B we're staying at. That's after you get to the top of the hillside portion of the town. This charming B&B has another 12 steps to go to get to the terrace overlooking the Mediterranean. Cefalu is a resort town for Italians, Sicilians, French, Germans and all the rest of the world. It's nestled at the base of a piedmont, perched atop volcanic runs frozen into tufa from some long-ago eruption. The town has charm and it knows it. Yesterday, Sunday, was confirmation day for many of the town's children. Dave & I sat in the piazza sipping cappucini watching the small procession go by. There were more relatives, friends, and family than tourists. It was the kind of event every tourist hopes occurs while they're in a town, the local event which enwraps family and strangers alike. The children, dressed in long white cassocks, carried white daylilies singing about Jesu being alive. Their families carried baskets of rhodedendron and left them on the church steps. The brass bells rang noon.

Don't drink and

Try to navigate the Rome airport. We arrived from Amsterdam at Gate B6. We were pleased to see this was across the aisle from the gate we needed to connect to Palermo. So we hustle our buns over and aroundand through the construction zone of Fiumocino Airport to get to the smoking room behind security. Puff puff We come back to Gate 5, but itnow reads Torino where it last read Palermo. And no, the Partenza boards didn't show our flight. Did I happen to mention that in Seattle, there is no KLM presence any longer, just the ticket you bought on the internet for which we could NOT print a boarding pass b/c it was an internoational flight. KLM in Seattle is Delta, but how did I know that? I dunno. It appears my psychic abilities are intact today.

When in Rome

Noon isnot too early for my firstshot of the day, is it? It's 4am somewhere.

Landed in Amsterdam for the transfer to Rome

The plane is moving and... Gotta run. We made connection one!

Saved

Dan came to the rescue. He even answered the phone when I called at 6:30 this morning. Whew! Blue isn't put into Doggie Jail

soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo housesitter just quit scrambling scrambled eggs 'n ham don't think I like them Samiam

Our housesitter arrived!! Shellie- Ann and she's from Jamaica and she's nice! and sweet! and I hope we haven't overwhelmed her. Blue is a big dog and I've got a big mouth, but so far she's still smiling. We've found housesitters on the internet. In this case, Shellie's references come from couchsurfing.com. How cool is that? Traveling around the world, hopping from couch to couch as you go. For our trip to Sicily, I booked us in AirBnB - a site where people can list anything from a spare room to an apartment to a house for rent. Since the American dollar to Euro ratio is the same as the Canadian used to be to the U.S. (before 2008), I don't want to spend the same amount of money on hotels that I used to... or rather, I want to spend the same amount, I just don't want to add another 25%. I'm quite hopeful that the Air BnB places match their pictures. We won't have daily maid service, but I've learned to make my bed now that I'm 50...

We leave Friday, the 10th, for Sicily. We'll be driving from west to east, arriving in Palermo, leaving out of Catania. I talked Dave into renting, yes, A CONVERTIBLE!!! It better not rain! Dave hopes our luggage will fit in the car, but I have faith and I'm packing light. Here are the plans. 10-May Fri 11-May Sat Cefalu 12-May Sun Cefalu 13-May Mon Cefalu 14-May Tue Cefalu 15-May Wed Sciacca 16-May Thu Sciacca 17-May Fri Siracusa 18-May Sat Siracusa 19-May Sun Siracusa 20-May Mon Siracusa 21-May Tue Taormina 22-May Wed Taormina 23-May Thu Taormina 24-May Fri Taormina/Catania 25-May Sat leave from Catania

This social media thing is alot of work. I've got people on facebook who want to see pictures & then others who look at the blog. I've just doubled my "personal" / "friendly" communications workload. Next thing you know, I'll be expected to update my LinkedIn profile, my Yahoo presence and my Google documents.

I've started going through the pictures. That's another thing, with digital photography the whole idea of "it's just electrons" leads to an over-abundance of picutres. Since Dave & I don't know what we're doing, we take bejillions of them. Each year the picture count increases. Vietnam in 2009 was 1100 pictures, Thailand in 2010 was 1500; this trip - 1,970 pictures to go through and reduce to a handful worth doing something with. This is a freakin' full time job!

We stayed at Thatched Cottage in Lacock. Our host, Nancy, was superb! Breakfast was cooked on her racing green Aga range and served at the kitchen table overlooking her patio & garden. The house was an add-on to the cottage. You have your own entrance, bathroom, livingroom area & the bedroom is the loft of the cottage. You're in the countryside off of one of the little lanes with a funny name.






A view of the lime-washed walls in the loft / bedroom area inside. Unfortunately, our other pictures of this charming little cottage didn't turn out. That said, a picture can't capture a really good bed & the bed here was great. Good water pressure & lots of hot water in the shower too.



Here's some pictures of Lacock. The first one is of the George Inn. Beer - nothing to be astounded by. Yorkshire Pudding - delish!





Views of Lacock Abbey. This country home had actually been inhabited until recently.











Then there's the countryside drive we took one day. Dave just drove & we worked very hard to simply get lost in the rolling hills under the blue sky & white, fluffy clouds. We'd thought about going to Stone Henge, but were warned about construction, traffic, and immediate access. So we went to Avebury. We meandered our way around to Avebury and then back to Lacock. It was a Sunday. Cricket players were out in the fields. The sheep were grazing among the standing stones. Churches let out and people stood in the church yards. It was a beautiful day.

Just strap a diaper on me & call me Super Girl

The curse is not broken. Linda had to put our dog Blossom down while we were gone. Apparently, Blossom had cancer and tumors began to erupt after we left. There is, of course, more to the story, but that is not mine to tell. We were hoping she'd make it under palliative care until Friday morning, but that did not happen. She collapsed again on Friday.

And while I'm not hospitalized, the hacking cough my sinusitis turned into is about to take my head off. I'm headed (as usual?) to the non-emergency clinic today for a prescription. None of the items we picked up at the pharmacy in Istanbul really helped. The 8 hour medications worked 6 and then only 4. On the flight from Istanbul to London, we even had a run in with some lovely Americans while I was hacking up a lung that tic'd Dave off so much he was ready to take out an 80 year old biddy in my defense. We even got a "You people..." out of them. Ahhh, the post-SARS world. At least the child crying next to them was less distracting to her evil-eye.

Where we were in Istanbul was perfect. We were downhill from Taksim square and so spent the final day just in the area. I wasn't up for much more than strolling action. We did take in a hammam, but let me get this out there right now. We're spoiled here in Seattle with the Olympus Women's Spas in either Lynnwood or Tacoma. The hammam had nothing on them. Those bath houses & scrubs (especially) set a hard to be standard. That said, the Galatasary Hammam the hotel recommended was a disaster. Sure they got a lot of suds going - using a straight soap which made my skin itch afterwards. Sure, they washed my hair, and it stuck out like Bozo the Clown after it dried it had so much "body". The dressing rooms were dingy, dirty dingy, not charming dingy. It wasn't used by locals. Why should they pay 100 Turkish Lira when they can get a good scrub for 30? Glatasaray was more expensive than the bath houses here in Seattle & with a lot fewer amenities and a lot more black mold.

Istiklal Caddesi (Street) is amazing the way Khaosan Road is amazing, but in a cleaner, chic-ier way. There are still dreadlocks to be found, I heard something like 400 night clubs, buskers, coffee houses, kebap restaurants and pedestrian streets filled with everything from burkas to stilettos. I still loved the little shops in my Galata Kulesi (tower) area.

The piazza around the Galata Kulesi housed filming crews at least twice while we were there. One of the films took place at the bar where we'd made friends with the owners & the help. Every night there were some busker wanna-bees practicing their juggling, guitars, and existential philosophy. One night a group of them set up a little balloon with a lighted sterno pot to lift it. Once it finally took off over the trees, it flew out over the buildings with lots of wood in them. I left my hotel windows open at night for the fresh air and the sounds of life. Below us was the corner store which sold a sultan's wealth of the EFS Beer each night, bottle-by-bottle.

The trash collectors & the street people work together to keep the city clean. The trash collectors collect & the street people sort through, pulling out recyclables. Istanbul actually has a lot of walking streets in the few districts Dave & I were in and they were clean. Even with all the tamed wild city dogs and cats around. The Turks tag the "wild" dogs here to show that they've been given their shots & neutered. We saw a large number of Anatolian Shepherds lolling around in Cappadocia with the blue tags in their ears. In Istanbul, same thing, but not so many Anatolians as much as general shepherd mixes.

Perfect spot

We're sitting on the deck of the Ritim Galata Bistro. The Galata tower rises in front of me. This deck is at the corner of the one-way street, the only one, down which cars can turn. Some of the drivers look to take out the upper edge of this tiny deck. One truck had 3 people in the front seat. The middle man started laughing when he saw my face pursed like a Gucci.

This piazza had a swing trio playing in it last night. Couples danced in the warm May air. I would have made Dave, except I've acquired a nasty cold complete with hacking cough & lost voice. This little corner of Istanbul is manageable for the number of people in the street, the lack of touts (hawkers), the beauty of the streets, the sounds. Lovely corner. Great recommendation from our travel agent, Kadir. He was re

On the other hand, no one explains that the Hagia Sophia and The Blue Mosque face each other across a courtyard. Too bad it is filled with buses. But those monuments were built for tens of thousands.

The 7 hills of Istanbul

Turns out we're near / at the top of one of them. The Goleta tower was built in 1455 and is the center of a lovely little piazza where everything is downhill. 3 steps off the center of the piazza and you will need to have trained 3 months on the stair-master for the return trip. We walked a couple of side trips.

Jim, this counts as mountain climbing with shoe shops & cafes. David comments that I am out of shape - that's just because I've made him stop at four cafes in six hours. Okay, we stayed at two of those for over an hour each, but for God's sake, I climbed the freakin' 7 Hills of Istanbul in ONE walking tour. I swear. (Okay, there were also two potty breaks...and then I stopped at 3 stores selling shoes...)

Small World

We moved on to Agva, atown built at the estuary to the Black Sea. Driving out of Istanbul seemed to take hours, but apparently we are still in Istanbul. The city is a province. We're ataying at Piccolo Mondo - a 20 room resort on the river. This place is worth returning to Turkey for. Both breakfast & dinner are included in the price. It has tables on the two layered terraces jutting out over the river, but more importantly, there are hammocks and swings under the trees. We're here at the end of May. It is considered cold, but we find the sun intense. We,ve napped, swing, drink wine & listened to the call to prayer three times today.

The sand is soft here. You sink past your ankles. The Black Sea is cold, but clear.

Istanbul touchdown

Currently caught in a Turkish traffic jam. We're trying to cross the Bosphorus. We've just paid the toll. There are men who are standing in the lane dividers selling pretzels from a pole. Earlier, in another slow down, there was a man begging, holding his daughter in his arms. For the most part though, all we've seen are men selling bananas & water - until the pretzels that is.