Thursday, December 17, 2015

A Commercialized Christmas Story

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the land,
parents were stressed over children's demands.
The stockings weren't hung, for they were much much too heavy,
filled to the brim, with everything but a Chevy.
The kids were still up, playing Xbox and Wii,
amped up on sugar, junk food, and Pepsi.
The wife was in fits, and I was exhausted,
there was so much to wrap, was that a new faucet?
What is all this stuff? And why did we buy it?
Because the kids asked, so we HAD to supply it?
It seems so extreme, this mountain of toys.
Considering we only have two little boys.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but more bags of crap. How did this all get here?
My wallet was empty, my bank account dry.
I'd need to work overtime from now to July.
More rapid than eagles, my wife she did wrap.
Shouting out orders, and waking me with a slap.
"Hand me the scissors, give me that tape!"
"Where are the bows? Who did we buy a cape?"
This process went on for what felt like a year,
with piles of gifts, some stuck there, some stuck here.
We used all the paper, we ran out of tags,
there seemed no end to the boxes and bags.
And then on the news, we heard them announce,
a sale on ipads, my wife wanted to pounce.
I took a deep breath, and  said with a snap
"Enough is enough! They need no more crap!"
She looked somewhat stunned, her eyes had grown wide.
"But all the other kids have them." was her only reply.
It was then that I knew, we had lost all control.
We'd been sucked into the Christmas black hole.
I wanted to cry, I wanted to shout,
we'd forgotten what Christmas was really about.
So I made a decision, right there on the spot
to make a big change, if it killed us or not.
I went to my kids, and turned off their game.
I needed to share this before Santa came.
So I told them a story, of a woman named Mary,
and a sweet little baby, that she was to carry.
Their eyes filled with wonder, as I recited the fable,
of the birth of a savior in a humble horse stable.
I spoke of the Wise Men, and the gifts they did bring
and the meaning behind the songs we all sing.
They listened intently, they seemed so impressed,
I'd nearly forgotten all of my stress.
As I tucked in my children, and whispered good night,
I said to my wife "We must make this right."
She nodded agreement, and we knew what to do.
We sorted the gifts, and kept just a few.
I loaded the rest, they nearly filled up the car.
I headed off, guided by the North Star.
I said a prayer, that it wasn't too late,
and hoped that I'd make it in time to donate.
When I dropped off the gifts, to the shelters and poor,
I felt like Saint Nick, bringing joy to their door.
As I drove home that night, 'neath the fresh falling snow,
I could swear that I heard a soft "Ho, ho, ho."
When I pulled in the drive, and started to park,
I saw the flash of a sleigh, taking off in the dark.
My heart filled with warmth, the tears started to pour,
The magic of Christmas had now been restored.
For the first time in years, I laid down with a grin,
I kissed my dear wife, and snuggled right in.
We had done the right thing, of that we've no doubt,
for kindness and love are what it's really about.

The End.
By: Teena M. Hauxwell-Finn (Original written December 13, 2013, Edited/revised December 17, 2015)



Monday, October 19, 2015

In Response To: The Broadly Meets video titled 'Meet One of America's Only Female Rally Race Drivers'

Over the weekend, whilst at a rally race, I was shown a video that annoyed me so much, I felt compelled to blog a personal response to it. The video was posted by Broadly, and is titled "Meet One of America's Only Female Rally Race Drivers". 
Before I begin my rant, let me link the video, so you can judge for yourselves. 

Here is the Broadly video.

The video is about Verena Mei, who is a model, actress, and race car driver. Before I go any further, let me point out that I respect Miss Mei's accomplishments as a driver. This post is in no way a personal attack on her, nor do I wish to take away from what she has achieved. 
My only response to her personally, would be to think a bit longer and harder about what media outlets she chooses to work with. I would also strongly suggest she make a public statement apologizing for the complete lack of research and the misinformation in this video. 

Now.... I have to say that my initial reaction upon watching this was absolute and utter disgust. And while that may seem strong, let me preface that by saying that I am not a fan of women who wish to gain attention for themselves simply for being a woman. If you ever want genuine equality, you must begin by allowing your actions and accomplishments to speak for themselves. If you are skilled at whatever you do, your sex should have absolutely nothing to do with it. If you allow yourself to be recognized merely for having a vagina, you are doing a disservice to females everywhere. 
In the video, she points out that auto racing is one of the very few sports that allows women to compete head to head with men. This is true. And that is why I loathe seeing the word "female" in front of driver. When interviewing a man, no one says "Introducing male rally driver David Higgins." Because his sex is irrelevant. Unless you plan to ask him something regarding his penis, it's unnecessary information. 
I love rally. And one of the things I love most about it, is that it genuinely doesn't matter what sex you are, how old you are, how fat or skinny you are, or how much money you make. Rally accepts everyone. If you can build a car, pay the entry fee, and fit in the seat, you can race. And if you can't drive, you can volunteer, crew, or codrive. There is no advantage or disadvantage to being a woman. (Aside from how quickly & easily you can urinate from a one piece fire suit that is.) I believe this is a big reason so many women are drawn to the sport to begin with. Which leads me to my next, and possibly biggest point.... 

"One of America's Only Female Rally Race Drivers"

Ummm.... WUT?! 

Without even trying, I can name at least ten or more current American female rally drivers. Give me a minute, and I can probably increase that number exponentially. As a matter of fact, when I watched this video, I was at a rally event, crewing for, wait for it.... A FEMALE RALLY DRIVER! (Let me give you a second to allow the shock and awe to pass.) Believe it or not, there were at least three female rally drivers at the event. And shockingly enough, none of them were Verena Mei. 
In the video, Verena says that she wishes there had been other female rally drivers when she started. Well, I hate to break this to you, honey, but there were. And if you were looking for some hardcore rally inspiration, might I suggest, oh I don't know.... the legendary Michele Mouton. She competed (and kicked ass) from 1974 to 1986, decades prior to Miss Mei becoming a driver. And there have been, and still are, countless other ladies competing since. 
If the point of this video was to be informative and encouraging to other women looking to participate in rally, it failed miserably. 
By choosing to disregard the plethora of other women in the sport, and focus on only one, who isn't even a current competitor (Verena Mei competed as a driver in 2012 and 2013. To the best of my knowledge, and based off my research, she has not driven in a rally event since.) you did yourself and the sport a great disservice. 
I myself, am proud to know many talented rally drivers, several of whom happen to be women. Maybe I need to introduce them to Verena and Broadly.... 

The team I was crewing for this past weekend, and some of the OTHER ladies of rally.
Driver: Tracey Gardiner, and codriver: Tracy Manspeaker.



Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Dear Friends and Loved Ones....

It happened again today. It happens often, as a matter of fact. I said my son's name and was greeted with the awkwardness that has become very familiar to me. 
We lost our son in August of 2012, and since then, I have discovered that very few people know how to deal with our Grief. In the early days, they send cards, attend the service, maybe even bring food. As time goes on, the calls to check in stop, and inevitably, people move on. I get that, I'm fine with that. The part that I'm not so fine with is the lack of understanding on how to deal with parents of child loss as they continue their journey of Grief. Unfortunately, that's not their fault, since there is little out there by way of education on this subject. Friends and family have no idea how to help us, and sadly, we aren't in a place to tell them what we need for a long time, if ever, because we don't know what we need. We know what we want. We want our child back. So how can our loved ones help us deal with the fact that that isn't going to happen? 
How can they comfort us through not just the early days, but for the eternity that lies ahead without our child? 
First and foremost, you need to understand that losing a child is like no other form of Grief. It isn't like losing a parent, a sibling, a friend, or a pet. And yes, I've had people compare it to all of the above. For us, we lost our only child. In one instant, we lost everything. There are no more family photos, no weddings or grandchildren to look forward to. We will have no one to sit with us when we are old, and no one to pass on cherished heirlooms and memories to. We look around our home at the photos of our smiling son, and think about what will happen when we are gone. We wonder who will carry on our legacy, and who will make sure our child isn't forgotten. 
That is one of the hardest parts of losing a child. You worry constantly that everyone but you has forgotten your amazing child. This life that was so celebrated at birth, and through milestone after milestone... but there are no more celebrations now. No more milestones. Only memories. 
At the beginning of this post, I said that awkwardness has become familiar to me. Let me explain...
We lost our son when he was 18. We watched him grow from a helpless child, into a capable young man. We have stories and memories we enjoy sharing, just like any parents. But something happens after you lose a child. Suddenly people don't know how to talk about them. Are afraid or uncomfortable saying or hearing their name. Picture this: You're sitting in a group of your friends. Everyone is laughing and sharing funny stories of their children learning to ride a bike or tie their shoes. So, like any parent, you join in. You share a favorite memory of your child to a group of people you know and trust, and you are greeted with silence, or an immediate change of subject. The people around you no longer make eye contact, some even get up and walk away. 
Sounds unpleasant, right? Well it happens A LOT. And I would consider that experience one of the better ones. 
Since losing Zachary, I have parted ways with many loved ones. They just couldn't deal with it. Being around me was apparently too hard for them. I've also been left out of MANY family gatherings, and had a surprising number of invitations get "lost in the mail". I get it. It's weird. You don't know what to say, or IF you should say anything. You really just want things to go back to how they were before.
Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but once you've lost a child, you NEVER go back to the person you were before. When you've held your child's hand and watched them take their final breath... you're never the same again. No matter how much those around you might wish you would be. 
Also, we're going to talk about our child. Just as you talk about yours. We're going to share stories, and maybe even get emotional from time to time. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but it's not exactly a tea party for me either. And for those of you who are worried about mentioning our son's name, because you don't want to "remind us" of our loss.... Did you think we had forgotten? Because, trust me when I say this, we haven't. There isn't a minute that goes by in any day that we aren't thinking about and missing our son. One of the few things that actually gives us comfort is knowing that you remember him too. We're never going to get to make new memories with him, but when you share your stories and memories, it's almost like we're getting to. Do you have any idea how big of a gift that is to us? Sure, we're probably going to cry, but those aren't tears of sadness. Not entirely anyway. They're tears of gratitude to you, for reminding us that you haven't forgotten our child. That you think of him too.
So please don't feel awkward. Don't walk away when we share. Don't leave us out of special events and celebrations. Laugh with us, cry with us, share with us. Don't make us feel guilty or shameful for doing what any loving parent does. And if you aren't sure what to say... ASK. It's ok. Our loss isn't a secret. We don't hide it. If you want to know about our son, we'll be more than happy to tell you about him. 


Zach with his first car. 


Tuesday, June 30, 2015

A Closed Minded, Self Absorbed World

Me! Me! Me! Temper tantrums, foot stomping, selfish mentalities seem to rule this world we live in. We are all so utterly self absorbed, that we often find it nearly impossible to see anyone else's point of view. 
We've all but forgotten the Golden Rule that we were taught in grade school. The simple, yet elegant "Treat others as you wish to be treated." seems to be exceptionally complicated in this day and age. With the advent of social media, our thoughts and opinions on just about everything have become public. This means that instead of getting to know one another a bit before discovering our differences, we now can choose new friends based solely off of shared perspectives on hot button topics. This means we utterly surround ourselves with people who think just like we do. So when someone else shares a difference of opinion, it's like our entire world is ending. We have no idea how to deal with it. We revert to our inner toddlers and throw a hissy fit and storm off. "You're mean! I don't like you!" 
No mature discussions, no compromising, and certainly no listening to logic. We're right and they're wrong. Period. End of story. 
As children, we are taught that differences are what make us unique. Those characteristics that separate us from the flock, and make us stand out are good things. Who wants to be just like everyone else? I recall a saying that went something like "You can't have a beautiful melody if everyone is singing the same note." and even as a child, I understood the truth in that. 
When we seek out partners, we tend to follow the 'opposites attract' mentality. Why? Because it challenges us to think, and to step outside of our comfort zones. It's exciting and mind opening. We learn new things, and we find parts of ourselves that we might never have known existed. That's how we grow. 
So why is it that we can't channel this attitude into the rest of our lives? Why must we hate all things different and new to us? 
We're so quick to say things like "Well, it's just not normal." but why? Who defines normality? If you prefer mayo over mustard that's not normal to me, but I would never suggest you change your ways to make me happy. 
The notion that the whole world should think the way you do is ludicrous at best. And dangerous at its worst. You know who though that way? Hitler. 
But here's the tricky part... No one is saying that you have to like everything or everyone. Agreeing is not the same as accepting. If your friend thinks blue is the best color ever, and you think yellow is, do you now hate them? No. You don't agree, but you accept their difference and move on. Why? Because it has zero effect on your life. 
The same principles apply to religion, race, politics, sexual orientation, and more. The way one person (or a group of people) choose to live their life has no consequences on the way you live yours. Here's an example:
If the idea of same sex marriage bothers you, think of it like a sports team that you're not a fan of. Don't buy the t-shirt, and feel free to root for the other team. But don't waste your energy trying to convince the world that your favorite team is the only one that should be allowed to play. In the sport of love, we're all in it for the same reasons. Regardless of what team we're playing (or rooting) for. 
The more we refuse to open our minds to differences, the more we are closing ourselves off to happiness. If you spend all your time pointing fingers and hating everyone, you have no time left for the things that bring you joy and peace. 
A closed minded, self absorbed world isn't one that anyone wants to live in...
Remember the Golden Rule. Practice it. 




Friday, June 26, 2015

I'm Not Just A Passenger

My husband and I participate in the motorsport of rally. If you've ever tried having a conversation with someone unfamiliar with rally, it's difficult to get them to understand what it is that we do. But the one thing everyone gets is that my husband is a driver. But no one seems to comprehend what my purpose is. They all mistakenly think I am just along for the ride. Sitting casually in the right seat, just there for fun. So let me clear the air. I'll begin by explaining the sport a bit... 
Rally is a form of racing that occurs on closed roads, most often out in the middle of nowhere. These roads are generally ORV trails, logging routes, two tracks, or other gravel paths, not especially used for motor vehicles. (There are also tarmac rallies, which occur on paved roads, but we only had one of those here in America, and as of this year, that one is gone.) 
In each rally, there are multiple stages, with transits in between. These stages are X number of miles long, with various obstacles along the way. Think trees, boulders, water crossings, jumps, cliffs, and anything else Mother Nature feels like adding. We race in all weather conditions. Rain, snow, ice, etc. At the start of each stage, the cars line up and are released on one minute intervals. This interval ideally keeps the cars out of each others way, but it is very common to catch and pass other cars on stage. 
The point is to finish each stage with the fastest time, and without penalties. At the start and finish of each stage, there are Time Controls. You must arrive to each arrival control on your exact minute. Not early, and not late. If you are not on your minute, you get a penalty, which results in a deduction of time. 
Those penalties can cost you the race, regardless of how fast you were, so it's crucial to be on the ball. 
Penalties can also be given for speeding on transits, negative behaviors from you or any member of your team/crew, and pretty much anything else the officials don't approve of. 
Rally is a dangerous sport, and safety is something that is taken very seriously. From protective gear, to required equipment in the car. 
Our cars are fitted with pretty extreme roll cages, race seats, 5 point harnesses, etc. Each driver and codriver are required to wear helmets, HANS devices, and fire suits. Cars are stocked with fire extinguishers and first aid kits as well, because during a rally, you are the first responders. This means that if you come across a car off during a hot stage, you are required to stop and administer first aid, and begin the process of getting medical help to the people in that car. 
Ok, so now that you have an idea of how the sport works, let me get to the point of this article. As I said in the beginning, my husband is the driver. He does the driving. That makes sense, right? So what is my job? I'm the codriver, also known as the navigator. In rally, there are always two people in the car. The codriver/navigator's job is very different from the driver's.
Our job begins days or weeks prior to the event. From researching the race (watching videos, studying old notes, etc.) to securing lodging, making schedules, coordinating the team/crew, and making sure that all the required paperwork is ready to go, and more. Once we arrive to the event, we are given two books. A Road Book, and a Stage Notes book. Upon receiving these, we immediately get to work. 

Now each codriver has their own system for prepping their books. I like to tab each stage with a color, and coordinate that color and number to the transit for the stage in the Road Book. I also pour over every page, looking for things that I think needs highlighted. (Cautions, hairpin turns, questionable crossings, etc.) It sounds silly, but when you are dealing with time, every second counts, so you need to be able to access the information as quickly and easily as possible. 
Now, each of these two books is written in its own language of sorts. Road Books are done in Tulips. They look like this:
These tell you how to get from stage to stage, from stages to services, etc. Your job as a codriver is to make sure that your driver gets to where your car needs to be at the exact right minute. (Remember, no penalties.) As soon as you cross the finish line of a stage, you have to complete a time card, and then grab this book and get where you're going. There's very little downtime.
Once you arrive to your stage (hopefully on time) the codriver gets out the Stage Notes book. These are written in Jemba note form. That looks like this:

All of the information you should need to know when running each stage is in these notes. From when to turn, how sharp the turn, to crests, jumps, possible obstacles, and more. The codriver's job is to read these notes to the driver while racing, so that they can drive the road, even when they can't see it. When you're going 100 mph through the woods, a misread note could mean you drive off a cliff or into a tree. Drivers and their codrivers share an immense bond of trust in one another, and their abilities to do their jobs well. Each position is crucial to your success in rally. 
Before we ran our first event, I thought I had an idea of what being a codriver consisted of. But I was definitely not prepared for the amount of time, energy, and pressure that go into doing it. I'm still in the very early stages of learning how to do this job and do it well, but I have mad respect for the seasoned veterans of the right seat, and how easy they make it look.
As codrivers, we know that the drivers get all the glory, and we're just fine with that. In fact, most of us believe they deserve it.  But the next time you think that codrivers are just "along for the ride".... please think again. 




***If you're interested in following our rally adventures, please check out our Facebook page Team Finn.
And follow us on Twitter @TeenaMarieFinn and @SubieDan and Instagram @Team_Finn_Rally 

As always, "Have Fun and Try Not to Suck" --Team Finn 

Friday, April 10, 2015

Fairy Wand Suncatcher

Sometimes when I lay awake in bed at night, I think of various projects that I want to try. Well last night, I kept thinking about this particular craft, and I decided to give it a try. Not only was it a success, it turned out even more lovely than I expected. 
I've dubbed this project the Fairy Wand Suncatcher, and when you see the finished project, you'll understand why. Now, I'm going to give you the step by step on this, but since it's made using assorted odds and ends from my yard and craft box, I doubt any two would ever end up looking the same. But at least you'll get an idea. 
Here is the completed project. Not the best photo, but all I have is my phone, so it's the best I could do. 


To begin with, I went outside, behind my apartment, and found a couple of decent sized branches. There were plenty on the ground, so I didn't have to mutilate a tree for this. I looked for ones that had enough bulk to hold some weight without breaking, without being too big. I also paid attention to the shape, because I wanted my stick to have some character. 
Once you've selected some that you like, bring them inside and give them a quick cleaning. Check for bugs, loose bark, anything that might ruin the look. 
After deciding which one would work best for this project, I mixed together some white craft paint with water and quickly brushed on a whitewashing coat. Depending on the look you're going for, you could leave your branch natural, or paint it any number of colors. I wanted a birch type color for mine, so a light whitewashing did the trick perfectly. 

Whitewashed branch next to a natural branch. 

After the paint dried, I decided I wanted to give it a bit more pizzazz, so that it was extra eye catching and shimmery when displayed in the window. To do that, I gave the entire branch a good coating of spray adhesive (an all purpose glue would work as well) and then shook on some iridescent glitter. Not too much, just enough to give it a magical sparkle. To help keep the glitter from falling off, and to add some protection, I also gave my branch a good cover of clear coat spray. 



After allowing plenty of time for the clear coat to dry, I had to decide what I wanted to hang from my shimmery stick. After digging through my various craft odds and ends, I decided on some handblown glass leaves that I had rescued years before from a broken windchime. 

I've been in love with these beauties from the first moment I saw them, and this was the absolute perfect project for them. But if you don't have glass leaves, you can always string beads, crystals, flowers, or anything else you may have around your house. Or use a combination of items. This project is all about being creative and using what you have. 
I used some shimmery ribbon that I had leftover from a previous project to tie the leaves on, and I staggered their lengths to give it a pretty effect.
I finished it off by hot gluing a few small silk flowers onto the branch, and adding the string to hang it with. (I tied the string to each end, to allow it to hang more evenly.) A few suction cups stuck to the window, and viola! A beautiful Fairy Wand Suncatcher! 

Again, not the best photo, but you get the idea. This would also be a great project for a patio wall, or hung in a garden. I'll definitely be making more of these. I just love it! 

Needed for this project:
*large stick or small branch
*white paint
*spray adhesive or all purpose glue
*glitter
*clear coat spray (optional)
*ribbon or string
*assortment of items to hang
*a few small silk flowers (optional)

Thursday, April 9, 2015

It's Official.... I'm Old

I knew it would happen someday. I just didn't expect it to come so suddenly. It seems like just yesterday, I was a fresh faced spring chicken. A wild eyed, free spirit, awaiting my next crazy adventure. But little by little, my youth has withered away. It started slowly. So slowly in fact, that I almost didn't notice. 
It began with small things. A desire to go to bed earlier. Followed by the inevitable predawn wake up. Then, I lost interest in certain events and social gatherings. Bars and clubs were just too loud, and I'd find myself checking my watch at parties, wondering when I could sneak out. As it progressed, I became annoyed with the younger generations. I'd watch them in public and think to myself "Was I ever that obnoxious?" At some point, I caught myself Google-ing the latest slang, and realized that I'd lost all touch with current trends and was completely fine with it. 
Each year, I'd find myself giving up something new, because I felt I was "too old" for it. Shorts, tight dresses, midriff baring swimsuits, the ability to text with one hand. And all these things seemed unnecessary to me. They were the trappings of the young. I didn't miss them at all. 
But recently, I've noticed more and more signs that I'm turning into an old lady. Here are a few:

I got a cat. Now, I realize that young people can also get cats, but I didn't just bring a cat home, I GOT A CAT. Within hours of having her, I started making my own cat toys, built beds for her, and gave her cutesy little baby nicknames that I can only say in a high pitched voice. I've taken WAY too many photos of her, and am convinced that she isn't just any cat, she is the prettiest cat ever born. Oh yeah, and did I mention that I talk to her? Yup. I tell her about my day, bounce blog ideas off of her (she thought this one wasn't my best work for the record) and demand she help me with projects around the house. I've also come to the conclusion that she is lonely, and can only be truly happy if we bring home more furry friends for her to play with. So I didn't just get a cat, I got the crazy cat lady starter kit. 
I can have real plants now. For years, I couldn't keep a plant alive longer than a month. I did everything you were supposed to do, and they'd still croak. I tried every kind. I even killed a cactus. So I gave up and accepted that silk flowers and greens were to be all I would ever have. Then, a couple years ago, I was given a couple houseplants as gifts, and lo and behold.... they are still alive. And thriving no less! I'm now officially the proud owner of five, yes I said FIVE lovely, living houseplants. And yesterday, I planted my first indoor herb garden, and I seriously cannot wait to have some fresh herbs to cook with. Which leads me to point number three...
I CAN actually cook. I'll be completely honest here, I'm still no gourmet chef, but I've grown well beyond my previous limitations of cereal and mac and cheese. Though those are still some of my favorite meals. I've learned not only how to properly follow a recipe, but also how to adapt it to fit my tastes. I've become much more comfortable in the kitchen, and have even created several of my own recipes that are quite delicious. 
I collect strange things. It's a well known fact that old ladies have odd collections. From assorted lace doilies to ceramic doll heads, old ladies have a tendency to hoard weird stuff. Turns out, I'm no exception. My growing collection of garden gnomes speaks for itself. I've also found the older I get, the harder time I have of throwing stuff away. I'm convinced I can repurpose just about anything into something useful. I do blame Pinterest for some of that though. 
I'm bringing brooches back. Now, I've always loved a nice brooch. Even in my younger days. But the older I get, the more I feel like no outfit is complete without that little pop of fun. I search thrift stores for the most unique ones, and even make many of my own. I've also discovered a fondness for scarves, and not just for fashion, but often because I'm always cold. 
I no longer want long hair. Growing up, I always had long hair. But the older I got, the shorter and shorter I've gone. For awhile, I would attempt to grow it back out from time to time, missing the days of swinging ponytails and windblown locks. Then I stopped missing it. I prefer the ease of short styles, and I save a fortune on hair products. Now, if it gets long enough to put into a ponytail, I feel miserable and count down until my next cut. 
I say "When I was your age" more often. I've caught myself doing this more and more, and I've realized that I've reached a point in life where I have seen quite a bit of change. From music and television, to technology and more. The generation gap has widened, and I'm no longer the "cool" twenty something I once was, nor do I want to be. 
I enjoy being at home. It's hard to believe there was a time when I couldn't wait to rush out the door. I'd come home from work, change my clothes, and head right back out. A night in felt like torture. Now, I look forward to relaxing in the comfort of my own home. Sometimes there's nothing better than a pants free day spent reading or watching movies with my hubs. I still enjoy going out, but I also appreciate coming home and not feeling like it's just a pit stop. 
I notice the little things more. When you're young, everything feels so much bigger and more important than it really is. You spend so much time thinking about things, you turn molehills into mountains. Youth has so much drama attached to it. The older you get, the more you learn to recognize what truly matters. You make peace with things you can't change, and you put your energy into things that make a difference. With age comes wisdom, and an understanding that life is more than just the things we can see and touch. The older you get, the more you've probably had to say goodbye to people you loved, which teaches you the true value of a moment. You seek out less quantity and more quality in those you surround yourself with. 

Of course I could go on. From grey hairs and crows feet, to stiff joints and the urge to yell "Get off my lawn!" I'm steadily creeping away from spry youthfulness and working my way towards middle age, and inevitably... ripe old age. But you know what? I really don't mind. 


Thursday, April 2, 2015

Berry Best Reviews: Rumball & Wojtkowicz, PLC

From time to time, I like to do reviews on products or businesses that I'm a fan of. My official seal of approval, if you will. We all know that I'm brutally honest, so if I give my Berry Best stamp to something, you can count on it being quality. 
That being said, I'd like to share with you today a fantastic new law firm, located in my home state of Michigan. 

Rumball & Wojtkowicz, PLC



Rumball & Wojtkowicz, PLC is a multi-member law practice, consisting of Jayson W. Rumball and Jakob J. Wojtkowicz. We are focused on Estate Planning, Business Planning, Real Property, Contracts, Criminal Misdemeanors and Civil Litigation. We have a very diverse education and background in Business Transactions and Tax Law. 

While they might be a new location, these guys have plenty of experience behind them. In my interview, I asked them about that, and here's their responses. 
Jayson - Prior to opening up Rumball & Wojtkowicz, PLC I worked at a small firm in Lansing where I concentrated my practice on Real Property, Construction, Contracts and General Business Law. I worked at that firm as a law clerk and attorney for 4 years. Then I move to a mid-size law firm based in Southfield, where I concentrated my practice on Estate Planning, Succession Planning and Business Planning for 8 years.

Jayson Rumball
Jakob - Prior to opening up Rumball & Wojtkowicz, PLC I worked as a solo practitioner concentrated on Tax Law, Business Planning, Estate Planning and Civil Litigation.

Jakob Wojtkowicz

I also asked Jayson & Jakob what sets their firm apart from all the others out there, and I loved their response. 
"We are a young and energetic law firm dedicated to our clients' success in all facets of their business ventures and personal lives. We offer our clients the personal touch that they wont get at the larger firms. We care deeply about our clients on a personal level versus the transactional relationship the larger firms provide. Our clients have our cell phone numbers and can call us directly, and because of that, they always speak directly to us."

In a day and age of email interaction and mass call centers, personal service and direct contact are something that automatically put a company ahead in my opinion. 
So you're probably thinking "These guys sound great, but I don't need a law firm." and that's where you'd be wrong. Here's why...

"Estate Planning is very important to the average person because without an Estate Plan, you lose control over your estate after passing. Because, the Probate Court now dictates how and to whom your assets are distributed. Probate Court is an expensive and time consuming process - on average takes between 9 months and 3 years to complete and costs an average of 3-10% of the value of your probate estate.  A scary statistic is that 70% of Americans have no Estate Plan in place."

70%!!! Maybe you don't understand how serious this is. If (God forbid) something were to happen to you, do you really want your family to have to spend up to 3 years fighting the court system? I'm guessing your answer to that is no. Lucky for you, these awesome guys not only offer their outstanding services, but they also host seminars to help educate the public on these things. How great is that?! Here's a little information on those...

"We frequently present seminars on behalf of businesses and organizations, specifically discussing the need for estate and tax planning, proper business entity set up, and business liability protection. Our last Seminar was a joint seminar with a financial planner on financial/estate planning that was held at the Fountains Golf and Banquet in Clarkston on March 11th.  We are currently planning another seminar for early May."

It seems to me that attorneys and law firms often get a bad rap. So how do you know that you're getting the best service for your money with Rumball & Wojtkowicz, PLC?
"A good law firm starts with a fully informed attorney. In order to have a proper Estate Plan in place, the attorney must know what your assets are, the approximate value of the assets and whom the current beneficiaries are of those assets.  If your attorney isn't asking you these questions, they are doing you a disservice - how can an attorney plan to protect what it doesn't know you have.  
Also, be aware of the general practice/one-stop shop type of attorneys, that say they can do everything. ie: the jack of all trades and master of none. This is the reason we have chosen our specialties and stick to being very good at those specialties.  We do this in order to provide our clients with a personal and positive experience."

Now that I've gotten you all excited to hire the best law firm around, you're probably wondering how to get in touch with them. Well here's your answer!




"Our primary office is conveniently located just of the I75/Dort Hwy Exit at 3059 Tri-Park Dr., Grand Blanc, MI 48439. We also maintain a satellite office at 8491 S. State Rd., Goodrich, MI 48438. Our offices are open from 9am-5pm M-F, but we also offer evening and Saturday office hours by appointment."
Office: 810-694-0100

Jayson 248-249-2585
Jakob 248-459-1766
Or check them out online at http://www.rwlawplc.com/ or (click here) to like them on Facebook. 
LinkedIn:   www.linkedin.com/in/jaysonrumballesq

                www.linkedin.com/in/jakobwojtkowiczesq


BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!! 
Jayson and Jakob are also offering my blog readers this great coupon! So don't miss out on this deal! Give them a call today! And don't forget to tell your friends and loved ones too. 



Wednesday, April 1, 2015

April Fools Day

Tis here.... the first of April. A day known as April Fools Day. A day people celebrate by pranking each other. A day filled with countless fake pregnancy announcements, lies about quitting jobs, moving to strange places, and posts about how you tortured your loved ones in new and colorful ways. 
I. Don't. Get. It. 
I never have. Growing up as the baby of 6, with 4 older brothers, I was on the receiving end of more of these "fun" activities than I care to remember. Plastic wrapped toilet seats, shaving cream sleep surprises, you were adopted stories and SO many more. Lucky for me though, my siblings didn't limit their pranks to only one day a year. But April first was like the Christmas of pranking for them. This meant that they would spend longer than 30 seconds thinking up ways to torment me, which led to even worse things than finding your favorite dolls hanging from your bedroom ceiling by nooses. 
I'll be honest, they were quite creative in their endeavors. My complete lack of shame as an adult being proof. I mean, there's only so many times one can be utterly mortified before you become numb to it. (So, thanks for that!)
I remember the excitement and joy they derived from these pranks. I figured I must be missing out on something, so I attempted a few of my own. Once, I used my superb makeup skills to give my one brother fake injuries, including a pretty believable black eye, and told my mom my other brother hit him. My mom didn't laugh, and neither did I, when she proceeded to ground me for a month.
So I gave up trying to prank, and just accepted my fate as the test monkey for all of my siblings' ridiculous shenanigans. 

Fast forward to adulthood, and now I have a hubs who finds endless humor in tomfoolery. 
He finds few things more amusing than sneaking up on me when I'm in vulnerable positions (cough...naked... cough) and scaring the bejeebus out of me. My only saving grace is that he never has any clue what day (month, year, etc.) it is, so April Fools Day has rarely been cause for additional trickery. There was that one time, with a rubber lizard, but that was such a sad attempt.... 
So what is it about this nonsense that is so appealing? Why is it fun to embarrass and deceive people? I'm clearly missing the genetic code that makes these things so entertaining. Why is it considered hilarious to lie about something like a pregnancy on April 1st, but absolutely unthinkable on April 2nd? Is it part of the Earth's gravitational pull on that one day a year? Like that day you can make an egg stand on end. And why do people continue to fall for such things? It's April 1st, you believe nothing you see or hear on this day. Everyone knows that. But year after year, we repeat this cycle.
Call me a stick in the mud, but I find the whole thing just plain stupid.
So while the rest of you wrap rubber bands around your sink sprayers, put mayo in your cream filled donuts, and try to convince people you really are moving to Mumbai, I'll just be over here rolling my eyes, and waiting for this dumb holiday to be over. 




Tuesday, March 31, 2015

My Thoughts on Indiana....

I'm appalled by the recent decisions on the "Religious Freedom Act" in Indiana. Appalled, but sadly, not shocked. We've come a long way in this country, but we still have so far left to go. Unfortunately, there is a major mountain in our way. That mountain is religion. And it is going to be one hell of a bitch to move. 
Now, before you get all Jesus freak on me, I'm not hating on religion. In fact, I firmly believe that everyone should have the right to worship whatever God or Gods they see fit. The problem I have is when people use religion as a means to control others, or breed hate. Now, I'm not religious. I wouldn't necessarily say I don't believe in God, but he's on the same list as Santa and the Tooth Fairy. I have yet to see proof of his existence. BUT... I was raised in the church, and I've read the Bible. I recall a lot of "Don't judge" and "Love thy neighbor" in there, but I cannot remember even a single passage that says "Don't sell flowers and cakes to gays" or anything even remotely similar. 
The Bible is mostly allegory. Which means it's open to interpretation. Those interpretations can easily be swayed, based on one's personal feelings and beliefs. It was also written a bajillion years ago, and much of what we're interpreting has little or no relevance in our current modern society and culture. Is that to say that the Bible can't offer us some moral guidance? No. Of course it can. But at the end of the day, we must remember that the Bible is merely a book, written by humans, NOT GOD. Humans who are inherently flawed and often biased. (If you don't think that's true, Google Bible passages about women. Most of those would make your inner feminist run screaming for the hills.) It's also been translated time and again, and in those translations it's been reinterpreted by the translator. So if we're being completely honest, the odds that we're even reading the same words that the prophets heard from the Heavens are slim at best. The Bible is the original telephone game. Likely misheard, and miscommunicated over and over before it reached us.
So if the Bible can't always be trusted, what can we do to ensure we're making sound moral judgments? It's quite simple really. We use our brains. You don't need the Bible or a priest to tell you that murder is bad, right? You see, we have this little thing inside our brains that helps us make good decisions. It's called a conscience. It's what reminds us to be compassionate and empathetic. It guides us toward choices that make us feel good.
Does hate make you feel good? (If you answered yes to that, I'm afraid your problems are bigger than the Bible can solve.)
Here's the thing about religion. It's a mighty powerful tool, and in the wrong hands, it can do much more damage than good. If you've studied any history, you know that powerful people have been using religion as a means to control others for as long as it has existed. Either through guilt, fear, or misguided morals, man has often used the guise of religion to his (or her) own advantage. It has occurred countless times throughout history, and still happens quite often today. 
That's what's happening in Indiana, and what could potentially happen in many other states as well, if we don't do something about it. 
Allowing businesses to act in a discriminatory fashion, and use religion as a scapegoat is nothing short of legal bigotry. 
The definition of a bigot is someone who is intolerant of any differing creed, belief, or opinion. To go so far as to deny service to someone because of their religion or sexual orientation is pretty damn intolerant, wouldn't you say? So why not just be honest, and stop using religion as an excuse? I'll tell you why, because the Bigot Freedom Act wouldn't draw in nearly as much support. But throw "Religious" in there, and suddenly, you're not a bigot, you're doing "God's work". I call bullshit. If you want to deny gay people service, then at the very least you should be as out and proud with your bigotry as they are with their love. Don't be a closet bigot, and hide your prejudice and ignorance behind the Bible. Don't do all Christians a disservice by claiming you're one of them. Because you're not.
Allowing a law like this to pass is a disgrace. It takes us back to a time when your skin color decided where you could sit, and who you could love. Back then, people used religion as an excuse as well. But now we call those people racists.
Not everyone has to like everyone else. And not everyone has to agree with everything that everyone else does. You're entitled to your opinions and your beliefs. But that doesn't mean that your beliefs should outweigh those of someone else. Our differences and diversities are what make us special. If everyone always thought the same way, we would never have made the incredible discoveries and great strides we've made so far. Cultures are constantly changing, and with each new change will come a lack of understanding. But a fear and hatred of the unknown has never ended in anything positive for the human race.
 
cough* Native Americans, Holocaust, witch trials, slavery, segregation, etc. *cough*
Do we really want to repeat those mistakes? We are creating our own history right now. How do we want future generations to remember us?



Monday, March 30, 2015

I Just Feel.... Empty

As I sit down to write this post, I'm still not 100% sure I can even put it into words, let alone share it with the world. But I'm going to try, because this is my therapy. This blog is my couch and counselor. I've always sworn to be honest and real when I'm writing, and since this is something that has been weighing on me for some time, I feel compelled to release it, or it will most definitely eat me alive. 
So here goes...
Ever since losing Zach, I've discovered feelings that I never knew existed within me. Emotions that it has taken me quite some time to identify. Maybe they've always been there, just below the surface, but until recently, I couldn't quite put my finger on them.
Let me start at the beginning. Not too long before meeting my husband (Dan) I was diagnosed with some female medical issues. I won't get into the details, but after several procedures and doctors, I was essentially told that having kids was probably not going to be an option for me. It could happen, but the likelihood was low. At the time, I was 18 years old. Fresh out of high school, and the only future I was concerned with was the weekend ahead. I'm not even sure the news fully registered with me. I barely gave it another thought. Fast forward about a year, and I met Dan. This amazing guy that I instantly connected with. And if that wasn't awesome enough, he came complete with a miniature version of himself that I also fell head over heels in love with immediately. Zach was four years old, and damn near the perfect child. Sweet, funny, adorable, loving, and buckets of fun. Sure, we had challenges along the way, but he and I formed a bond that was stronger than anything I could ever have fathomed. By 20, I was living with Dan and Zach, and we were a regular family. I was even a stay at home mom. At this point, the idea of not being able to have kids was something that I had begun to think about from time to time. Especially when Zach would ask for a baby brother or sister multiple times a day. But aside from my medical issues, there was another issue with adding to our family. That was Dan. You see, Dan was a teenage father. Not the ideal situation by any stretch of the imagination. Add to that the fact that Zach's mother had a change of heart, and had all but abandoned him by the age of nine months, and the fact that Dan had very strong feelings about NOT having any more kids, well... it made sense. He had made it very clear, right from the beginning, that he was a one and done dad. Being only 19, and believing I couldn't have kids anyway, this wasn't a deal breaker for me. Besides, we already had a kid who we adored, so it wasn't like I'd never get to experience motherhood. 

Over the next 13+ years, we raised our son, and went about our lives. I won't say that I never thought about having kids, but it wasn't something I was dwelling on. I focused on the future, and figured I'd just be the most kick ass grandma someday. Zach had just graduated from high school, and we were helping him sort out his college plans. Then everything changed. 
On August 4, 2012, we said goodbye to Zach. Our only child, and our entire world. The emptiness that follows the loss of a child is something that has no comparison. My heart was shattered, and my soul was lost. I found myself yearning for something to fill the hole that losing my son had left in me. I knew, from talking to other grieving parents, and from my reading on the subject, that these feelings were normal. "Don't worry, they'll pass." I was told. 
It's been almost three years since losing Zach, and the feeling has only gotten worse. I've tried distracting myself with work, hobbies, and various activities, but nothing changes.
I'm 35 years old now. I've watched all my friends and loved ones grow their families. Baby after baby I've celebrated. Since losing my own child, each birth has been more painful than the last. Every pregnancy bringing with it anger and jealousy. And then to hear all the moms talk about motherhood to me as if I know nothing of the subject. As if I didn't watch my own child grow into a man, only to be stolen from me. But you know what.... they're not wrong. Because for all the experiences I do have as a mother, there are so many that I don't. I've never known the surprise and fear of finding out you're pregnant. Never felt and watched my body change, as I grew a person inside of it. Never seen the look of love on my husband's face as he felt his child kick for the first time. Never stressed over picking the right name, or what colors to paint a nursery. I've never felt the agony of childbirth, and the immeasurable joy of hearing your child cry for the first time. I've never fed from my breast, never stared into a brand new face, looking to see myself, and I've never been called "mommy". 

I've always thought of myself as someone who thrived on experiences. Of relishing, first hand, in all the ups and downs that life had to offer. But for one of the greatest, most amazing, powerful, and life changing experiences a person can have, I've never been more than a bystander. I've always had to live those moments vicariously through someone else. Before losing my son, I could accept that, because I had him. I had a future. I would watch my child grow, dance with him at his wedding, and all the extra motherly love I had in me would be bestowed upon my future grandchildren and great grandchildren. 
But that future is gone now. And my heart still has so much to offer, but nowhere to put it.
I see mothers with their children and my heart breaks anew. I hold my tiny nephew to my chest and I never want to let him go. I see my sister spoil her grandchildren and I wonder what that feels like, because I'll never know. 

At night, I dream of my son, and in many of them, he's holding a baby girl and smiling. He tries to give her to me, but I wake up before he can. I don't know what the dreams mean, but I know I wake up feeling even more empty and sad than when I fell asleep. 
Maybe it's my Grief causing these feelings. Maybe it's my biological clock screaming at me to do something before it's too late. Maybe it's a change in hormones. Maybe it's all of these things and more, I just don't know. Whatever it is, it fucking sucks, and I wish I knew what to do about it. 
But for now, I'll just keep trying to push forward and hope for the best.


Thursday, March 26, 2015

My Two Cents on Catcalling

Lately, I am seeing more and more male bashing from women and so called feminists. As I've said before, I do not consider myself a feminist. A proud woman, yes. A feminist, no. 
Let's get something clear. Men are not our enemy. The majority of complaints I see and hear from women about men should be directed at ourselves, and not at the male sex. Yes, you heard me, I said at ourselves. We can't put all men into the same category. When they do that to us, we freak the fuck out. So why is it acceptable to do it to them? It's not. So stop.
That being said, I want to address a topic that has come up more and more lately, and offer my unsolicited opinion on it. That topic is catcalling. 

For starters, we need to make a clear distinction between aggressive attention, and normal human behavior. When I hear women complain about being catcalled, I've found that a large percentage of the things they are referencing are far from offensive. 
Let's start with normal human behavior.
It is absolutely not abnormal for people to want to look at things we find pleasing to the eye. This is true for art, nature, and the human form. There are scientific reasons for it, that I will not go into right now, but let's just sum it up as instinctual. We all do it. Our eyes will linger on things that appeal to us. Does that mean we should stare, open mouthed, for hours at a stranger on the subway? Of course not. But we absolutely cannot shame everyone who does a double take. We've all done it.
When we get up each day, shower, do our hair, put on some makeup, pick out the perfect outfit, and go out into the world, why are we doing this? We do it to look and feel our best. But we also do it so that we get noticed. And anyone who says differently is lying. It's why we get mad at our partners when they don't notice a new outfit or hairstyle. So why then, do we take such offense when someone actually notices? Here's what I think.
I think more often than not, it's less about the action and more about the person it is coming from. I have seen countless examples of this. A woman is at the grocery store and a well dressed, attractive man compliments her. She blushes, smiles, and thanks him. That same woman is later complimented (in a nearly identical manner, mind you) by the less attractive, and maybe not so well dressed bag boy. She is instantly offended. Apparently it's only flattering if the person is someone you find appealing. Is this always the case? No. But I have seen this happen more times than I can count. So there is definitely something to it.
Another thing I see a lot is women taking offense to a simple hello, or how are you. Umm... we do understand that greetings like these are how conversations are started, right? Maybe we're having a bad day. Maybe we're in a hurry, or are too busy to chat. Fine. But you can't blame someone for trying. They don't know that. They merely saw someone they found attractive or interesting, and they wanted to start a dialogue. Does this qualify as unwanted attention? I suppose by some definitions it does. But it's far from offensive behavior, and certainly not worth bashing someone for. There was once a time before social media and smart phones, when this was how people met and got to know one another.
Now, I don't deny there are some men (and women) who take things too far. It happens. Lewd remarks, gestures, and rude or aggressive approaches are a very real thing, and they definitely need to stop. And I for one, have no issues telling those who do these things to "Fuck off". But the reality is, that we cannot put all forms of behavior and intent in the same bucket. And we cannot solely blame men. Personally, I have been offended much more often by women giving me the once over, followed by a dirty look and negative remark or attitude, than I ever have been by men. Without question, I feel way more judged by other females than I do by males.
When I said earlier that much of what we want to male bash on should be directed at ourselves, this is what I meant. We can't fault someone for looking at something we put on display. (I said looking, not leering and certainly not touching. Let's be very clear on that.) Do we have to dress a certain way so that no one looks at us? Of course not. But we also have to accept that if we're exposing ourselves, sometimes, people are going to look. Once again, that's human nature. Right or wrong. Yes, there is such a thing as self control, and without a doubt, some folks need a lesson in it. Looking at a young girl in tight pants and a low cut top and thinking (or saying) inappropriate things is no less wrong than staring at the heavy set woman in Wal-Mart in the spandex mini skirt and doing the same. Yet, I see and hear countless women snickering and making snide remarks about people like that, while in the same breath bitching about a man saying "nice ass" when she wears her yoga pants to a club. Why is one acceptable, but not the other? Judgment is judgment. Women are very often guilty of this behavior, and that makes us no better than the men whistling at you when you walk by. At least, in some twisted way, that man thinks he's paying you a compliment. When we make fun of someone's bad hair, and terrible fashion choices, there is nothing flattering about it. We can't be preaching one and then doing the other.
We also can't blame men for our own internal issues. Being self conscious, feeling nervous, being shy, or lacking self worth are not the fault of the person trying to interact with you. Some things that may make you feel uncomfortable can't be blamed on others, and instead need to be addressed by you. If someone pays you a genuine compliment, and you don't know how to accept it.... that is on you. 

I'm sure this will probably offend some ladies. And that's fine. I've yet to please everyone, so I don't expect to start now. But I think if we were to be brutally honest with ourselves, and really think about it, we'd know that there is a lot of truth to what I've said here. As always, there are exceptions to every rule. And this post is by no means giving people permission to be inappropriate and disgusting. And if you are one of those guys (or gals) who thinks it's cute and/or funny to act like a sexist pig... knock it off. If you ever want to have sex with someone other than yourself, I strongly suggest learning some manners. 




Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Sandblast Rally: Team Finn's Debut

From the moment Dan and I decided to carry on our family dream of building and racing a rally car, I knew it would be an adventure. From the creative budgeting, to romantic weekends spent in a cold garage, it's been interesting to say the least.
You see, the co-driver seat was never intended to be mine. Our son, Zachary, was always supposed to navigate. After his passing, it fell to me. After all, Team Finn only consisted of three members. I owed it to him, and to Dan, to step up and do my best. But it was a bittersweet acceptance. As much as I loved riding shotgun on this, I would have much preferred to be cheering for my two favorite guys. Unfortunately, that wasn't the path we were sent down. So we carried on as best we could, with Zach watching over us. A rally guardian angel, if you will. 

Sandblast Rally was always in our top choices for our first event. It was the first stage rally we ever attended (as crew) so it held a special place for us. The conditions seemed great for first timers as well. And so it was decided. 
After completing all the requirements to race (physicals, licenses, logbooks, etc.) we were on our way. 
Since South Carolina is roughly a 12 hour drive from Michigan, we decided to leave a day early, just in case, and hit the road Wednesday morning. That ended up being a very wise decision, since Thursday brought brutal winter weather to nearly every state along our route. That would have been sketchy for us with a 2WD tow vehicle. Plus, it gave us an extra day to prepare, so as not to feel rushed. 
We arrived in Cheraw around noon on Thursday. Shortly after, we headed over to rally headquarters to give them a hand setting up registration. By Thursday evening, I held in my hand my first official set of stage notes. 


These were to become my Bibles for the weekend. I would study them, and treat them with due reverence. If you're not familiar with rally notes, let me explain. In rally, each car has the driver (his job is pretty obvious) and a co-driver. The co-driver (or navigator) has to tell the driver what to to, where to go, and more. You are given a book of Stage Notes, which you read during the race to direct the driver of what is ahead. Turns, cautions, jumps, etc. These are written in what I refer to as Rally Hieroglyphics, but are actually called Jemba notes. They look like this:


The second and smaller book is a Road Book. In this, you have your transits. Directions guiding you from stage to stage, to services, and eventually, to your finish location. This is crucial. You have a limited time to arrive to your destination, and getting lost on transit could cost you penalties, which can result in poor finishes overall. So you have to pay close attention to your Road Book. This book is written in Tulips. No, not the flower. Tulips are a form of directions that are very basic. They look like this:


You're told your mileage, the arrow points the direction, and you are given the road name, or a point of reference. Easy peasy, right? 
So Friday began with a Novice Orientation class, where you're taught the basics of what you need to know. Safety, rules, and so on. After that, we headed straight to Scrutineering (otherwise known as Tech) to have the car and our gear looked over to ensure it met all of the requirements. We passed that, and off we went to Shakedown. Shakedown is essentially a small section of road that is similar in conditions to what you will find once on stage. It gives teams the opportunity to test the car and make any last minute tweaks or changes to suspension, tires, or whatever else. For us, it was our first time in real stage conditions. Full safety gear on, reading notes, and running at stage paces. 
Team Finn at Shakedown. Photo courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.
It felt good. Dan ran at what I would call a less than "taking it easy" pace, but we had no issues, and the notes were spot on. We made two passes, took a break, and intended on running more, but time ran out before we could. From Shakedown, we drove into downtown Chesterfield for Friday night Parc Expose. This is essentially a car show. All the competitors park the cars, hang out, and talk to locals, fans, and other competitors. After a couple hours of this, we headed to dinner (thanks Matt) before we went back to the hotel for some last minute Stage Note work and a good nights sleep before the big day.
Saturday morning brought sunshine and better weather. We suited up, and headed back into Chesterfield for more Parc Expose and a drivers meeting before the start.


At this point, I was feeling nervous, but less so than I expected. Dan was just fine. (Go figure.) After lots of laughs, some last minute note changes (thanks Liz!) and hugs from our crew and friends, we hopped in the car and lined up. 
The countdown had begun. This was it.... we were really doing this. I sent a little silent message to our guardian angel, and in no time we were off. 
First 2 stages went as smoothly as they could have. Dan was flawless, and I was not quite flawless, but finding my rhythm. After Stage 2, we headed in for our first service. After removing a child's sandbox from our wheels, hitting the bathrooms, and chatting with our awesome crew, we headed back out for Stage 3. Aside from a close call with a tree, we were still doing well, and putting in great stage times. By Stage 4, Dan was driving like an old pro. I still wasn't feeling super confident in my note reading, but he told me I was doing great, which helped. After Stage 4, we headed in for a quick fuel only service, and were back out to Stage 5. At the start of Stage 5, we encountered some delays, due to a biker having gone down and being injured. This shook me a bit, especially since, at the time, no one had much information on how he was doing. This stage was also the one that had received a substantial route change, and we had very little notes for that portion. We had already run it from one direction (changes had been at the end) but this was the reverse, which put the note changes at the beginning, and could potentially mess me up for the remainder of the stage. After the replacement ambulance arrived, the cars were back on stage. Dan did great, but the route changes definitely made me stumble. It took me a bit to get back on track, and to say the least, I was flustered. I was grateful to be headed back in for a long service to try to shake off my frustration. After a quick bite to eat, another sandbox removal, and some socializing, we headed back out for Stage 6. This stage was a complete fail for me. I had a few pages stick together in my book (damn sweaty hands) and it took me nearly to the end of the stage to get back on track. Add to that the fact that the sun was at the "You don't need to see right now." point of sunset, and Dan drove that stage blind on all counts. I have no idea how he managed to keep us on course, but I clearly owe him massive sexual favors for that one. 

On stage photo of Team Finn, courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.
 At this point, I'm very frustrated with myself. Dan (bless his heart) kept telling me it was fine, and was very encouraging, but I knew better. I had been less than stellar for the previous two stages. We pulled into the time control for the final stage, and encountered another delay. This gave us some time to allow the sun to set, and for us to chat with other competitors. There were many DNFs (did not finish) at this point. Many of them seasoned racers. With my confidence dwindling, and us with only one stage left to go, I was feeling some pressure. I needed to get my shit together on this one. This stage was filled with tight turns, and one bad note or mistake could cost us the whole race. We had come into this with only one major goal, and that was just to finish. We were so close. Delay over, and cars were back in line. I sent yet another silent message out to Zach to keep an eye on us, and I took a deep breath and tried to get out of my own head. The final stage was insane. It got dark FAST, and we quickly learned our one small light bar was not enough. Dan was flying, and even though my notes were on, we still came into a "dip" way too hot, sending the front end in HARD and launching us into the air. The gravel that rained down seemed to be in slow motion as we waited to see smoke from a busted radiator and front end. In what felt like forever, but was probably less than 3 seconds, Dan assessed our damage (or lack thereof) and we were back at it. After passing a fellow competitor on stage, we crossed the final finish. The emotions hit me like a train at full speed. I managed to hold it together (mostly) long enough to transit to our finish, but when we pulled in for the final time control and saw our crew & friends standing there cheering for us with huge smiles.... I lost it. That moment will forever be ingrained in my memory. 
(I wish I had held it together just a few moments longer though, because unfortunately, that last time control cost us big time. Some false information and our lack of experience ended up costing us a 4 minute penalty, as I discovered later on. But I don't want to get into that. I'm still a little salty about it.)
We had finished. We achieved what we had set out to do, and I was beyond thrilled. I couldn't stop the tears. My crew (and some others) engulfed me in a huge group hug and it was at that moment that I knew we had made Zach proud. It's an overwhelming feeling that I cannot describe. Bittersweet, raw emotion. 

After the awards dinner, we headed back to our hotel, high on adrenaline and feeling a little bit like rock stars. The next morning, we loaded up and went to lunch with our crew, before hitting the road for the long haul back home. 
My favorite picture from the weekend, with our AMAZING crew.  Courtesy of M.Campbell Photography.
It's now Tuesday. The rally high is gone, and the rally hangover is fading, and yet, it all still feels a little unreal to me. Like it was all a dream, and I'm still waiting to wake up at any moment. I still can't believe that we did it. When we began this journey, it felt nearly impossible. Like one of those bucket list items that you hope happens, but know might never be accomplished. But we did it. The road that brought us to this point was by far more difficult and rough than any rally stage you could throw at us. We fought our way back from the edge of despair, and we made Zach's dream a reality. And this is just the beginning....