Anyone who’s been following this blog for any period of time knows I live my life through seeking signs.  Signs of life I call them.  These are the stepping stones that guide me, reassure me, motivate me, calm me down.

I am a believer that once you start looking for signs, they start appearing more dramatically and more frequently.  I’m also a believer that they are there all along so once you start looking for them, you start seeing them.  You have to believe it to see it they say.

I did quite a bit of writing this past week at Rancho La Puerta. Mostly in those wee morning hours when thoughts haven’t quite woken up yet so the mind is a soft web available to catch new ideas.  I’ll share some snippets below but what I want to talk about right now are a couple of signs I’ve gotten since returning.

This book idea has grabbed a hold of me hard and is having it’s way with me that’s for sure.  I know this is true when I can’t stop thinking about something and when seeming obstacles melt like butter before I’ve had the opportunity to name them yet.

Last night I decided to create a specific blog in which to write the book.  I know this WordPress system and instead of reinventing the wheel elsewhere, I decided to use what I know and do my draft writing there.  I’ll share that blog when it’s a little more formed as I’ll use it also for posting things specific to the book.

WordPress has lots of templates to use for blogs.  They call them themes.  This blog for example is on the Writr theme template.  Some are offered for an upgrade fee and many of them are free.  I decided to search on the free templates for my book blog.  I immediately was drawn to one that had the feel that I seek to feel.  An environment is a very critical element for me in any project.  That’s why finding that amazing studio in Edmonds, and living in it for a week, was so important.  I’m a creature of comfort and if I don’t have it around me, I won’t have it in me and will produce basically nothing.

The blog template was no different so I clicked on one that had a good feel to it.

When it came up on my screen I nearly gasped.  Not for the layout but for the stock photo they’re using on it.  Ok let me just show you.

Now this may mean nothing to any of you out there reading but it hit me like a sharp ray of sunshine out of a Seattle cloudy sky–right between the eyes.  I knew immediately why.  Ok let me just show you again.

Remember this?

That is the sunset view from the studio I’ve rented for a month in Edmonds Washington where I will be living and writing this January/February.

Let me just put them side by side to make this more dramatic as we know I love my drama.

I’ve been on enough ferries now through the Puget Sound to know it when I see it.  And it looks like nearly the same view doesn’t it?  Just a little closer.

Ok so there’s that.

Then this morning I finished going through the mail that had accumulated while I was gone and stuck between junk mail and bills was this.

Wha what what huh?  As I wrote the mail carrier, How did this get delivered to Tempe, AZ?

And now I’m curious about just who is Elizabeth  in Seattle and am I supposed to meet her one day?

See what I mean?  Signs. 

Ok, now to share a bit of my ramblings from down at the Ranch.  It’s interesting, even to me, what bubbled up while I just sat down and got busy.

They sent a Detective to meet me at Sky Harbor Airport.  My friend Deb insisted on being there to greet the plane.  Deb followed us in her car to the Mesa Police Station.  I sat in the back seat with Detective Davis driving who would over a year later, after the guilty verdict came in, apologize to me in a tavern for something I had no idea was even happening during that visit.

I was famished.  You don’t eat much in crisis moments like these and then you’re starving out of nowhere.  It’s the way grief hits you sometimes.  As we rode I realized it was 1pm and I hadn’t had a bite of food for over twenty four hours.  I asked Detective Davis to stop so I could grab a bite somewhere as we made the half hour drive from Phoenix to Mesa.  I was thinking a drive thru somewhere–something quick and easy.

It felt strange that he had to phone in to ask permission to make this stop.  Everything felt stilted.  He was too formal about this.  What’s the big deal? I thought.  It’s just a sandwich and I’m paying for it myself.  It was confusing. Like are we on some kind of tight schedule here?  I knew I only had one day to complete this interview.  I was in town for just twenty four hours and would be flying back to Illinois the next afternoon so I just chalked it up to a time factor.  But still, it was odd.

The Detective was given directions where to take me and pulled over to a dinky, non-chain sub sandwich shop in a former run- down gas station on a dilapidated corner in downtown Mesa near the police station.  Why here? I wondered. I figured it was where all the police officers ate so they had some kind of familiarity with this place. 

In reality, it was a nondescript dry turkey sandwich that Detective Davis went inside and purchased for me.  One that I choked down in an interview room alone under two way mirrored surveillance.  They wouldn’t even let Deb hang with me while I ate.  She was outside in the hall.

I had no way of knowing, that at that moment, I was being considered a suspect in Cindy’s murder.

I’ve decided as I go along writing, I will post snippets like this in my new blog.  So if you’re so inclined you can also check in there come January.  This is just a preview.

Now gotta shift in to this new day and see if I get some more signs.  How about you?