by Sally Matheny
When I began writing in 2010, I waited for the whim to
pass. I thought it would be like most of my other hobbies that were tossed
aside—cross-stitch, latch hook rugs, even piano. As I learned the writing
craft, I made do with an old computer desk, a T.V. tray, and a very uncomfortable
desk chair. The chair was my daughter’s, when she was younger. My family encouraged
me to get a better chair—a comfortable, adult-size chair.
My response was always that if my work were ever published by one certain publisher, then I would buy myself a “Big Girl” chair. A new chair would be a reward for sticking with it, rather than giving up after the first few snags (a.k.a. rejections). So, I set to work.
Rejections came, and several times I thought perhaps
writing was not for me. Every time I thought about quitting, God sent something to
encourage me to keep working at it. A few acceptances filtered in but not from
the specific publisher I had set as my big goal. My aching back and neck really
wanted to meet that goal!
Sadly, I left without a chair. Not one of them was just right. I liked the high back chairs better than the low back ones. But the ones I saw were a bit more than what I had expected to pay. I decided to wait, and left empty-handed.
Two days later, my chair, well the box with the chair in it, was delivered. My sweet hubby happily began assembling it for me. He loves to put things together (preferably without my help). Standing nearby, I eagerly waited on the chair's assembly.
Under his direction, I cut out wings
and a door.
We ran out of duct tape so electrical tape was retrieved. Nothing holds a candle to duct tape. It was quickly added to the next day’s grocery list.
Z-man didn’t want to wait though, so he forged onward.
We added firepower.
To show his appreciation for all my hard work, Z-man tested his firepower on me.
Then he installed an awesome control panel that does amazing things, but that’s classified information.
Soon, we were also testing out my new, Big Girl chair! Z-man and I were having fun rolling down the hallway until we were told we might be scratching the floors. (This came from the man who worked so hard to install them).
I found the electronic back massager, strapped it on
the chair, and plugged it in. Smiling, I told my hubby, “As Phil Robertson says,
‘Now, we’re cooking in peanut oil.” (I
don’t know why peanut oil is so special, but this phrase has latched on at our
house!)
“Hmmm…how about a Big Girl desk? I’m almost ready to get rid of the T.V. tray,” I said, grinning.
My response was always that if my work were ever published by one certain publisher, then I would buy myself a “Big Girl” chair. A new chair would be a reward for sticking with it, rather than giving up after the first few snags (a.k.a. rejections). So, I set to work.
Rejections came, and several times I thought perhaps
writing was not for me. Every time I thought about quitting, God sent something to
encourage me to keep working at it. A few acceptances filtered in but not from
the specific publisher I had set as my big goal. My aching back and neck really
wanted to meet that goal!
Finally, finally, finally…I received that long-awaited
email. I sang out to my family, “I’m going to get my Big Girl chair!”
Like Goldilocks, I skipped into Staples and tested all
their chairs.
“Too hard.”
“Too soft.”
“Too expensive!”
Sadly, I left without a chair. Not one of them was just right. I liked the high back chairs better than the low back ones. But the ones I saw were a bit more than what I had expected to pay. I decided to wait, and left empty-handed.
Staples must have had their eye on me testing out all
their chairs. A few days later I got an email:
“HOT DAILY SPECIAL! Save $90 today only!”
I opened the email and behold, it advertised a high back
office chair! They didn’t have this one on the floor at my Staples. The price
was fantastic and they guaranteed free delivery and free return if I didn’t
like it. What did I have to lose?
I clicked the Staples’ “buy” button. Now, that was easy. (Sorry, I couldn’t
resist.) J
I clicked the Staples’ “buy” button. Now, that was easy. (Sorry, I couldn’t
resist.) JTwo days later, my chair, well the box with the chair in it, was delivered. My sweet hubby happily began assembling it for me. He loves to put things together (preferably without my help). Standing nearby, I eagerly waited on the chair's assembly.
Our son enjoys creating things as well. Z-man
called dibs on the box before we could even get the pieces out of it. While his dad
worked on the chair, Z-man wanted to make a spaceship. Z-man, however, likes my
assistance.
Under his direction, I cut out wings
and a door.
We ran out of duct tape so electrical tape was retrieved. Nothing holds a candle to duct tape. It was quickly added to the next day’s grocery list.
Z-man didn’t want to wait though, so he forged onward.
Snags popped up. Hubby put an arm handle on
backwards. I mentioned something about reading directions and was quickly
dismissed from his work area. Which was fine, because my help was in great
demand from the budding astronaut, oops, I mean Galactic Spaceship Commander.
 |
| The Spaceship |
We added firepower.
To show his appreciation for all my hard work, Z-man tested his firepower on me.
Then he installed an awesome control panel that does amazing things, but that’s classified information.
Soon, we were also testing out my new, Big Girl chair! Z-man and I were having fun rolling down the hallway until we were told we might be scratching the floors. (This came from the man who worked so hard to install them).
The chair was carried upstairs to the study (a.k.a.
Z-man’s homeschool room). I tested it out and loved the high back. Remembering
something we had tucked in the attic three years ago, I jumped up to go look
for it.
 |
| The Big Girl Chair |
I sit down and write for a bit, thanking God all the while for the
more comfortable chair. Later, I head downstairs. After dodging
incoming fire from the Blue Raider
spaceship, I find my husband and thank him again for his help with the chair.
“You got your Big Girl chair. What’s your next goal?”
“Hmmm…how about a Big Girl desk? I’m almost ready to get rid of the T.V. tray,” I said, grinning.
 |
| Here's to the Future |
