You’re My Best Friend

Ooh, I’ve been wandering ’round, But I still come back to you, in rain or shine, You’ve stood by me girl (boy) I’m happy at home, You’re my best friend – Queen

(Our Wedding Song March 2009)

MyPhoto Aug 10, 7 24 07 PM husband has often noted that I seldom, if at all mention him in my blog posts.  There are many reasons he has not debute on the site, some being he isn’t the most conventional man and doesn’t fit neatly into many subject matters.  I would describe him as the jig saw puzzle piece that was placed in the wrong box. And well, Bobby isn’t your basic blog kind of guy.  But since his birthday in August, I have been toying with the idea of changing up my writing style and tell a little story about the man who shares his last name with me.

This story begins back in 1979.  A year that the Sony Walkman debuted, Girls Denim Overalls were in fashion and Toyota Corola hit the roads. This was also the time my father began working for a man named Chester Finely who purchased a rolling hilled ranch in Templeton, California.  The initial purchase was to house the family own quarter horse race horses once they finished their running careers.  With acres of permanent green pasture and a barn full of stalls, it was the dream of any four-legged creature.

Around the same time my parents divorced and my mother, brother and I relocated to the Santa Barbara area with my mom extending her career in the United State Postal Service.  Being good children of the 80’s Johnny and I spent every other weekend making the journey for the hand off at the Denny’s parking lot in Santa Maria, so that we could visit our father.  And not just our father, but our grandparents, extended family and our childhood friends.  You see Templeton was our home, where are roots began, and family heritage ran deep.

Along the same time a young squire named Bob Eshelby (Bobby or Little Bobby to most) was experiencing a similar journey yet located in city of Long Beach.  On the occasional weekend or holiday Bobby, too would accompany his grandparents (Pa and Ma Finley) to their Central Coast Ranch.  During these visits chance encounters would develop and Bobby and Jacky would spend pre-teen time together.

My first memory was shortly before Christmas.  The weather was cold and rainy and my father had asked Ma Finley if Johnny and myself could stay inside at her house while he did the daily chores.  Bobby happened to be sitting in his grandmother’s living room.  Ma Finley decided it was the perfect group of elves to wrap her gifts.  I will never forget sitting there wrapping away, only to discover a new pile of boxes coming out of one of her secret storage closets for some new good person on the nice list.  You see Ma Finley had a knack of keeping gifts on hand in a secret closet, so not matter what occasion she was prepared to surprise a guest with a gift.  Bobby developed this habit in a slightly different version, but we will get to the story a little later.

To say a twelve year old Jacky took a fancy to the dark haired boy would have been an understatement.  But it wasn’t until March 1982 that the two potential love birds finally had their first date.  Well date maybe a strong sense of the word, but you get my point.  During a Spring  Holiday, both visiting the area for family, it was offered that Jacky could attend the movie Porky’s with Bobby, his cousin’s Brett and Chet.  Chester was the leader, could drive and secure us all into the movie.  For me it was a big deal, not only did I get to see a racy movie with three boys (one I had a major crush on) but we were going to drive over the grade to San Luis Obispo.  I was feeling so much like a rebel without a cause.  Needless to say I don’t recall much about the movie, but I can still remember the feeling when Bobby sat there and held my hand.  The rest of the week was a blur, I do believe Bobby’s mother took us all bowling (where he swears we kissed for the first time). It isn’t I don’t doubt this moment, the hand holding and butterflies in my stomach was all that mattered to me.

During the teenage years our paths seldom crossed.  I have to admit I loved going into his grandparents’ house so I could catch of glimpse of Bobby framed on the wall.  In my mind there was np cuter 16 year old boy in the world.  But as luck would have it, his cousin Brett would tease me, which somehow produced me saying something along the lines, “Oh I don’t like Bobby he is a penciled neck geek.”  Which of course was the farthest from the truth, he was the boy I secretly sneaked in the house to view photos.  Yet, Pa Finely latched on to the saying like tick to cattle in dense brush, and never let it go.

Over the next 25 years or so, we grew our separate ways and experienced much different lives.  Never really seeing each other, but catching up on the other through family and friends.

Until the faithful night on December 14, 2007.  My cousin Stacy and I were to meet in downtown Paso Robles at a local hangout.  We were celebrating a recent job promotion for her and the Christmas Holidays.  I arrived first to a packed bar.  But as the people stated to clear, there sat one person at an empty table.  I said,” Bobby Eshelby can we have your table?”  And his reply was, “Jacky Coon you haven’t changed a bit.” (not really rocket ships and fireworks) Long story short after some deliberation with a few people left at his party, we were asked to join them at their location.  Bobby and I began to catch up.  Life, family, kids, and relationship status.  I informed him I was on a “man time out.”  Well the night went on and before you knew it I was driving Stacy and Bobby both home well after midnight.  We dropped Stacy off first as she was the furthest out and then I pulled up to the ranch.  Yep, Bobby was back living on the ranch where it all began.  He insisted I come and check out his place, as it was a facility my father had built years earlier.  As he walked me back to my car he said “You realize you need to kiss me goodnight so I can see if it feels the same when we were kids?.  I gave in and low and behold it felt pretty spectacular.

Over the next few days we communicated and he visited my house to see the Christmas Tree.  As he looked around the room and made a few comments on how well we would fit together, he looked at me and said, “I know you are on a man time out, but if I cut my hair and clean up, will you go out on a proper date with me?”  and after a long pause I said yes.  The final tidbit I will share before going on to the real point of this blog is that Bobby called the restaurant and told them this a first date he had been waiting twenty-five years to happen.  Might just be one of the sweetest things he has every said.

So what is the point, message, learning lesson, or pause for thought of this blog, really nothing more than to share some true Bobby traits and things he has taught me.  For nothing else our grandkids can reflect on Pa Esh and his good stuff.

Here is goes –

10 – Bobby is comfortable in his own skin.  He is never out to impress, show ego, or be someone he is not.  And that suits him just fine.  Don’t get me wrong, he has many skins (like a chameleon) there is laid back double shirt, beanie, haven’t trimmed the facial hair in a few days, looks.  There is Vegas Bobby with a coat and pinky ring on one hand and a martini in the other, there is dancing Bobby ready to perform for any size crowd, there is golf Bobby, and maybe my favorite laid back hanging at home in over size gym shorts and T-shirt I got him at some fair.  But what you see is what you get.

9 – Bobby can be quite funny. (now I say this with an * as sometimes we both agree what he finds funny maybe others don’t).  But no one can make me laugh more or event better smile bigger.

8- His ability to cook.  (I like to say we are a good team in the kitchen, yet we have different styles).  He will meticulously chop, cut, measure and clean up every ingredient before he even starts.  And he religiously follows the recipe.  Now here is when he would say, I come along with my “witches brew” and add a little of this and a little of that but somehow it all comes out find in the end.  Oh and he has strict rules on dish cleaning which I don’t always follow, but we seem to manage well enough to have spotless eating ware.

7 –  Believe it or not he loves to learn.  Maybe not by choice, but when saddled with a task (after the stomach grinding has passed) he will take on a project head on.  Many times having to repeat the steps or return to the store for different parts, but he will teach himself and not stop until the job is complete.  And the feeling of satisfaction he gets for tackling the chore is something you can’t buy in a

6 – He is loyal to his friends.  And the older the friend, the more stock you have in the bank.  I get it, he may not always show this side or text daily.  But, his friends are his family on a level that many never achieve.

5- One of my favorite traits of Bobby’s is his competitive nature.  He seems easy going, talk a little smack, but get him on the golf course and his number one goal is to kick your fanny.  I think that is why he blended so with the kids.  But the competition runs deeper.  He hurries to all clearance aisles to find the best deals.  And when I inquire what might we do with a 3 quart roasting pan, he replies gift closet. (Ma Finley through and through).

4 –His sense of adventure and love of travel.  Especially when there is Photo Sep 18, 9 02 20 AMan upgrade involved.  If I have to say one thing that Bobby and I are perfectly matched is send us on a trip and we will have the time of our life.  We don’t even have to discuss what to eat, where to go, what to do, it is just natural.

3 – The love of his family.  There is no truer statement that even when Bobby is at the end of his rope and beyond done with his kin, at the end of the day it is his family and he loves them to the bottom of his soul.  Photo Apr 06, 4 17 58 PM

2 – He is the world’s greatest step-father. The day we got married, as part of our vows, he promised to love Nolan, Kayla and Lilly.  He always tells me I hate making promises because what if I can’t keep them and let you down.  Well this is one he made, kept and I believe it is just part of his being.  The family we have built, the five of us, may not always be perfect, but I couldn’t imagine a replacement.

1 – Well as our wedding song said, you are my best friend.  We have our ups and our downs over the past 12 years.  But there is something about Bobby and his heart that has a piece of mine.  I truly appreciate it even when he is the unhappiest at me, he is still my person.  Even though we both have fallen short, dropped balls, and let each other down, there is always the story that brings us back.  I believe in him to the moon and back.  Like our wedding video, in the famous words of Taylor Swift, It’s a Love Story Baby just Say Yes.

I didn’t find the perfect birthday present this year, but I am thinking (even though) a month late,  I couldn’t find you a more sincere, honest and timeless gift.  I love you.

Career Path 101

“When I was five my mother always told me happiness was the key to life.  When I went to school they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up? I wrote down “Happy” they told me I didn’t understand the assignment, I told them they didn’t understand life.” – John Lennon

IMG_7101June gloom is a real thing in Del Mar.  To energize during the long Fair days, an afternoon walk backstage to grab a foundation soda on ice, is a quick cure.  On one of these pilgrimages, headed down the Exhibit Department hallway, a thought came upon me, “How did I end up here?”

Not in the physical sense, but more in a who says “when I grow up I am going to be an Exhibits Director at the San Diego County Fair?”  Pretty sure no one ever. Who even thinks that is a career? Doctor or movie star, lawyer or a teacher, but a fair employee, give me a break.

I am not complaining it is a pretty cool gig for a country girl who likes to create things and organize them at the same time.  Sprinkle in some analytics, budgets and ten key, it is the makings of a dream come true.   Growing up, we were given such a defined linear scope of career opportunities it gives pause to modern day attitudes toward work and business environments. As a freshman in AGB 101 at Cal Poly, I had no clue what I wanted to do when I “grew up”, not like today’s youth who can conjure up opportunities we never could imagine. This isn’t a blog about discovering how to reinvent yourself in the tapestry of today’s job market, no it pretty much is just a road map of my journey.

Jake Owen preformed at the Fair this summer and his recent release Homemade, really sums up my career path. Looking back one could argue I am a text book product of my environment. I grew up being a fair junkie. Combine with my desire to play office, design my own paper doll clothes and organize everything in sight, you have my job. (We can note I also played school, shocker)IMG_7099

Let’s start with my earliest Fair memory. My cousin Kelly showed her first steer at what was still the San Luis Obispo County Fair in the summer of 1975.   I recall my brother John, cousin Stacy and I hanging around the barns waiting for Kelly and her beef buddy to march in the ring. Watching her interact with the judge and receive a ribbon it was magical.  All I could imagine was when can that be me?

My first livestock experience was a Duroc hog named Felix at the Salinas Valley Fair, circa 1977. My best friend Shawna and I were novice showmen and encountering our first outing with a show cane. Our parents were sure we would not only embarrass ourselves but the entire town of Templeton. “You two silly girls pay attention to your 4-H leader”, they would echo.  Low and behold not only had we paid attention but one would say we were star pupils. Driving those red hogs into first and second hole. Maybe it was winning novice showmanship that infected me with the Fair bug, but from that moment on there was no looking back.

If you know the players this photo is priceless. Templeton 4-H

And it was not just the years of raising farm animals (a term of endearment from the one and only Papa Bob Cumming) that built the foundation of my passion, there have been other future career clues.  Did the decades of styling the ultimate ladies lead outfit, not only for me, but my sister, and my daughter, and telling the story of wool, play a hand?  I am wicked bad with florist wire and a glue gun. (nod to Mr. Johnson, Carpentaria FFA, for teaching me how to make a bow and wrap floral tape). And let’s not forget that time I built an entire 10ft X 10ft feature booth for Templeton FFA in our game room or assembled custom stall cards for the entire Chapter.  Oh, the memories, the pieces of cut burlap, shafts of barley, the electric train. Good times.

Dig deeper and I can recall the two years in junior high I decided to write to every livestock breed association to inquire about literature and photos. Our mailbox began to over flow with large envelopes and over size packages.  Did you know the Angus association will send you posters larger than your wall?  Then I would sort all the information in binders and files.  I took a recipe card holder and organized all my contacts, not by desserts, appetizers, main dishes, but by specie, beef, sheep, swine, etc. you get the point.

But wait it didn’t stop there.  When I ran out of associations, I moved on to Agriculture Colleges and livestock equipment companies. My mother lived in fear that one day a sample cattle chute or actual live beast would be delivered to our condo in Carpinteria. And it gets better. A 13-year-old Jacky received a rejection letter from the Veterinary College at Purdue, due to the fact that I was from out of state (California) and a female, did they even realize I was only searching for facts to collect and display or I was in seventh grade?

Today, I realize I was building educational agriculture exhibits before I even knew that was a “thing”.   Who knew there was a career that actually embraced all my madness?  Career coaches of today express the need for “doing something you love.”  In the 80’s life was more about getting a job and financial reward.  The joy of the day was not a talking point, work was work.  But somehow, I have seemed to resonant with modern day theory and lucked into spending my days doing a job that was actually my hobby as a kid.  Maybe Jake Owen is on to something, I will always be the (wo)man homemade, but at the heart, I am a blue ribbon product of my environment.

PSA: As Fair season is among us, be sure to visit your county Fair.  The people that work there don’t do their jobs for a season, it is a life long passion.  They spend hours planning ways to inspire, educate, entertain and celebrate their fairgoers.  The art of competition and the memories made cannot be experienced anywhere else on the planet.

What “Clicking” My Heels Has Taught Me

“You have always had the power my dear.  You just had to learn it for yourself”

~ Glenda the Good Witch

RPhoto Jun 05, 5 39 22 PMecently, I was deleting photos from my cell phone and discovered, I take an excessive amount of pictures of the view looking at my feet. Taking a pause at this habit, was there any significance to this point of reference. A couple of photos had importance to where I was standing or who I was with (example of the track at Churchill Downs), maybe I enjoy sharing my current view of my surroundings with others or possibly  it is because I take really horrible selfies?  Upon further thought (imagine Winnie the Pooh in his thoughtful spot) I dug a little deeper and the results of this quiz were surprising, my intentions are to want to look forward.

Now there are many clues that provided this hypothesis. One, I have little patience. And when I say little patience, we are talking measurements at the subatomic level.  Two, I am happiest when I have something to look forward to, or better yet an upcoming trip or fun outing.  Three, I thrive in an environment of structure and order, and knowing what is happening next is chapter three of that book. And finally, and most importantly, I hate looking back.

Last week at work there were some balls dropped on a very important task.  With the staff together to discuss the situation, predictable outcomes began to happen, impulses to start rehashing the past, placing blame, and wondering why the situation existed at all. None of these reactions solved the problem. None of these responses caused any sort of positive energy.  Don’t get me wrong, I do believe at some point, recapping facts and devising a plan for the future is necessary.  But not at this time. In the here in now, all I wanted was a resolution. How do we travel to point B from point A using our resources at the current moment and achieve the best outcome.  We needed to move forward.


I struggle with looking onward in so many aspects of my life. Especially when hurt, disappointment or anger are present.  But let’s face it living in the backward is an energy sucker. I can’t think of one time that it ever made the situation better. If anything, the act places you on a turntable with the needle stuck playing the lyrics of negativity.  When the record keeps skipping it is impossible to change the tune and move on down the playlist.

And here is the kicker (only took 50 years for this to finally sunk in) as soon as you look forward and focus on the positive facts, everything shifts.  What you believe or imagine only gets clearer. It is like the universe rewards you with that unanswered message. Maybe not always in the way you assumed would be the result, but something good happens. In the blog I wrote about change, there is an underlying theme of expectations. ( .) The broader you leave the answer to be defined the better the outcome. Think of it as fishing, if you only toss out a big hook with a night crawler, your pool of fish to catch is relatively small. But if you cast out a net, the bounty is not only bigger but you have more choices of what to catch and what to release.

My “Ah- Ha” moment came one Thursday in the midst of the Fair, Lena got a bee in her bonnet that we needed to take a girl’s trip to Santa Fe, NM. I brushed it off like a passing fancy and went about my busy day. But she didn’t, Lena was tenacious on the subject.  Emailing us all dinning tips, tours, art galleries and VRBOs, like a 1980s-travel agent.  Sunday morning, I walked in the office, and here she sat in my chair with airline information in hand and how to book. At that moment, my mood shifted. Not just a trip, but a city I have never visited, a check mark on my goal to write about travel, and time with people I cherish.   I had something to look forward too.

Photo Aug 11, 7 26 26 PMI am not perfect and at times I do drudge up the past. Side effect from having a great memory. The key I have found is digging out the facts, solve the issue and move forward. Leave emotions for all the good stuff in your life; loving your kids, enjoying the perfect kiss, sipping the finest champagne or laughing with your friends. Tomorrow I visit the radiation oncologist for the final steps in my breast cancer journey.  A process that I can honestly say I have approached in a text book version of this blog.  Very fact based, very forward motion.  And for the life of me, I am not even sure why. But rest assured I am looking onward and upward and if you aren’t careful I will prove it with a photo of my feet.



Crazy, Not so Rich, Jacky

DSCN2662Opportunist- a person who exploits circumstances to gain immediate advantage rather than being guided by consistent principles or plans

Photo Mar 09, 3 14 01 PMMy mother might consider my travel habits somewhat opportunistic.  Have I made spur of the moment decisions based on the outcome of me ending up on a jet flying over an ocean?  Absolutely.  We do not share the same travel gene (nor do I get this trait from my father) I credit my wanderlust nature to my Grandmother Roberta.  Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, “I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.  I travel for travel’s sake.  The great affair is to move.”  There is a basic underlying need in me to experience, see new things, pack a suitcase, have a reservation in my Hilton account, basically I yearn to move.

I am a firm believer in if a door becomes open along your path, you always walk through. In early February, a door was presented to me.  And as it continued to open, fate was also dealing me a new hand of cards to play.  I knew just one thing to be true in the time of uncertainty, I needed to run through the door.  For no other reason, then for travel’s sake.

This journey actual began in the fall of 2018.  Last September, I took my Saturday stroll down the hill to visit the local library.  There I discovered the book Crazy Rich Asians.  Little did I realize six months after reading this novel, I would be on United 29 out of San Francisco headed across the Pacific to the lush land of Singapore.  Not much of a geography buff, nor a historian of Asian cultures, this trip was almost as big of shock to me as to my immediate tribe.  But on March 7, (my Grandmother’s birthday) I boarded a plane to a new land and a fabulous adventure.

Abundance. Agriculture. Architecture. Allure.

An avid reader of travel posts and articles I have toyed with the notion on how best to share my visit.  Filtering through the photos I took over my five-day tour, it was clear to me that I captured moments that revealed my passions.  From pictures of fresh fruit in China Town, to stunning displays of orchids in the airport, from the amazing architectural canvas of the city to the perfect bite, my focus was truly on the attractions that were unique to me and my eye.

My tip when traveling internationally to a strange land, make the journey there as pain free as possible. To using miles to upgrade to hiring a driver to meet you upon arrival, there is no need to stress out before you even set foot in your hotel lobby.  I struck the jackpot with my driver Adrian. Not only did he speak perfect English (he was born and raised in Singapore and informed me English is common as the British had an influence on settling the country) but he had an answer for every one of my 237 questions on our drive to the hotel. We instantly became connected on What’sAp and he shared ideas for my visit.

The first thing I noticed was the vegetation. Singapore is lush. From a living wall by the parking structure at the airport to the amazing Rain trees that lined the road into the city, the landscape was pristine. There is no tropical over growth, no bare spots, no dead leaves, each and every plant appears perfectly groomed. I sat and watched a man care for the orchids in the hotel lobby one afternoon.  He carefully trimmed and cared for each plant like one would a new born infant. To say I was green with envy of the flora and fauna, would be an understatement.  I did manage to walk the Gardens by the Bay, visit the Sunflower roof-top garden at the airport but I never made it to the Singapore Botanic Gardens or the National Orchid Garden.  I guess I need to return someday?

The hardscape of the city ran a close second to the beauty of the green space.  The skyline at night is lovely, but the view is just as stunning during the day. It has an inviting nature that makes you want to go stroll among the buildings. But unlike amazing metropolises in the US, the street level is refined and approachable. Upon close inspection, one could spot gardens growing among skyscrapers or on top buildings.  If a Paris fashion house could design a metropolitan brand, it would be the spotless, unspoiled, perfectly manicured concrete jungle of Singapore.

Many things reminded me of my time in Australia.  The vast number of people from around the world was parallel to my “down under “encounters. One evening, we dined outside of the city limits and the cultural differences became obvious.  More from other guests at the restaurant, than the local visitors.  However, the majority of the people I met were kind and helpful.   I am a big fan of exceptional customer service, but the level of care that was offered from the hotel staff, Adrian or anyone of the many service industry members met, could be better explain as an art of hospitality. From remembering an order from the morning before to answering one of the countless questions I posed, the people were gracious and welcoming.

The funky vibe of the food scene mirrored travels across Australia. From taking an old church and turning it into a hip row of eateries, to creating decor out of everyday objects, my five senses were inspired by every meal.  Although I had limited opportunities with street food or hawker fare, I did experience local dishes and a tremendous amount of seafood.  Shrimp seemed to appear at the table during every meal, I also got to enjoy dumplings.  The black peppered crab was good, but very messy.  Singapore, seemed to have a soft spot for Gin.  From the Gin and Tonic tasting at the lobby lounge to enjoying an original Singapore Sling, I can’t say I didn’t fall in love just a little myself.

But by far my favorite outing was the morning we spent in China Town.  The first key to the success of the adventure, was hiring Adrian.  He not only provided car service, but was the perfect tour guide.  He didn’t even think twice when I went bananas over the Pig Décor for the Chinese New Year.  I managed to capture a few photos, but I so wanted to take one of the larger than life pigs home.

Color, inspiration, and wonder would best describe my visit that morning.  If I was ever the atypical tourist, it was walking the streets of China Town, with Kayla’s camera around my neck, snapping photos circa 1970 Uncle Howard.  I was in awe.  And Adrian, knew all the inside scoops.  From the best BBQ pork stand (BBQ pork is like a super moist piece of jerky in a variety of flavors) to discovering my signature Christmas ornament keepsake, he even found me durian fruit.  Have I mentioned driving in circles to get pictures of the pigs?  I could have spent hours strolling up and down the streets, except for the humidity.

What I didn’t like about Singapore?  That is an easy one word answer, humidity.  To say it was humid, doesn’t do the weather justice.  Each day I would muster up enough energy for a morning of taking in the scenery before the pool was beckoning me to submerge myself.  The temperature never tipped over the lows 80’s, but the wall of stagnate heat was waiting every time one left an air-conditioned location.  Probably why the land is so lush and green.Photo Mar 10, 4 12 40 PM

Keeping true to my goals of 2019, one down two to go, I visited a new place and turned the journey into a blog post.  To be honest, I marvel at the past 30 days and the stamp I added to my passport.  Singapore was more than a destination to travel.  I began the experience with zero expectations, and walked away with countless lessons about myself.  As I tackle this next hurdle in my life, there was an abundant of energy gained by this trip.  I am not the same girl who walked through the door in February.  Watch out world, because I am on the move and with each step I am picking up the pace on a bounty of good health.



Not Gonna Happen….#BeDavidStevens

“If it doesn’t open, it’s not your door.” – Unknown

I am a true believer if a door is open, you walk through it.  Opportunities are life’s little positive gifts that so many don’t take advantage.  But as I view the world today, not only are there people who just bulldoze down doors, but individuals that express all the reasons why you should never even walk up to the welcome mat.

Back in the day, I worked with a man named Richard who was, by the best description, the “painter” in the Operations Department at the California Mid-State Fair.  He was a text book California fair maintenance department employee. First, he wore the same uniform everyday, with the name Louie on the chest.   He smoked one too many packs of cigarettes, never stopped to plan his yearly goals at the first of January, feed all the black cats on the fairgrounds and had a heart of gold.  His claim to fame (at least in my world) was to respond to any one of my many requests, “not gonna happen”. He would sit across from my desk, with his devilish grin, shake his head, and proceed to explain why he just didn’t have the time to complete my request.  This would be my que to give him the borderline shake your head look, which would generate him to pull out from his front shirt pocket a note pad and jot down my wish.  In the ten years I worked with Richard, it always happened.  Sometimes, not completely as planned (I have a few Richard stories that are priceless), but we were a team and there was a common goal to achieve.

A fun game, I loved to play, was to send our yearly college intern out to find Richard and inquire when XYZ sponsor’s sign would be hung.  They soon would appear back at my desk bewildered and perplexed as Richard gave them his standard answer “not gonna happen”.  This would trigger the Jacky/ Richard dance of me explaining why it was going to happen and Richard pulling out his small pocket notebook to make notes of my request.

These encounters took place in the late 90s well before 9/11, school shootings, and the housing market debacle of 2008. Before social media was the platform for one and all to share their dislike of anything from the POUS to the lady that had too many coupons in front of them at the local grocery store.   Richard’s intention was never negative in nature, he wasn’t leading the conversation with all the ways it wouldn’t work, it was just his character to make the process a little more playful.    The other day I began to wonder when did Richard’s “not gonna happen” became many peoples first response?  Why as a solution based society do want to focus on all the ways something will not work?

The writing wheels began to turn and I began constructing a blog about how I am simply over people that lead with a “No”.  What happen to words like solution, opportunity, “if there is a will there is a way”?  I am not sure if the absolute negative is a quicker way to move past the work or if as a culture, we have become sensitized to be downbeat and depressing.  The “try” has left the station. For some it is a power move, for others it is a lack of faith and then for a select, I truly believe, it is pure laziness.

And as I was pondering this topic and subsequently heading down the pessimistic rabbit hole, something marvelous happen.  I was reminded that not everyone behaves this way.

This past month we hosted our wine and spirits competition at the San Diego County Fair.  As the usual suspects of judges begin to arrive at our little community, years of great memories and times began to fill the void of the day.  At the opening night judges gathering, it was very apparent that one of my all-time favorite judges was absent, David Stevens.

David Stevens, passed away shortly after last year’s competition.  To say he was a marvelous human being, that was one in a billion, wouldn’t even scratch the surface.  The man was a savant on the topic of wine and had an impeccable palate.  Yet, if you met him on the street you would never have known.  In an industry that if filled with ego and self-loathing, David didn’t possess an ounce of these qualities in his being.  He was the happy guy, he had delightful stories, he was the man that would never say “No”.

As buttons that read #BeDavidStevens were handed out, it occurred to me to stop wasting my energy on a topic that doesn’t deserve the time of day.  Adverse comments, and I don’t just mean from others, but from myself, were simply not worth giving the ear space to register in my head.  If you are given an opportunity, take it.  If you see an open door, walk through it.  #BeDavidStevens.

Shortly after the competition, I was sitting listening to another day of pounding rain, feeling down that my Sunday was dampen by the weather.   And I light bulb went off above my head #BeDavidStevens, and seize this opportunity to work on this blog. And I started writing.  Then came a call that offered me chance to visit Singapore for a mini vacation, and I thought #BeDavidStevens.

Both David and Richard, left me with great life lessons, that at the time I never embraced.  But as I continue to journey into 2019, I have adopted a few new mantras.  You want to come after me with all the reasons why not, my take is #NotGonnaHappen.  You offer me a golden opportunity, I am going to say #BeDavidStevens.  In the infamous words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”  And that is a door, I am not going to miss walking through.

You Only Get What You Give

What Energy Do You Bring to the Universe?

“You’ve got the music in you….One dance left…..This world is gonna pull through
Don’t give up…..You’ve got a reason to live….Can’t forget….We only get what we give” – New Radicals

IMG_3969A few years back I began making notes for a post on bar coasters.  I don’t know about you, but so many times in my life, things begin to happen around me that I feel why am I getting a front row seat for this moment.  Life acts, played out like a carefully scripted reality TV show.  Is the universe calling, does life place us in the process, do we mindfully end up in these moments, or is our energy bringing us the show?

In this one situation, I was a bystander, sitting at a bar having breakfast and sipping on a mimosa.  This moment, encompassed both a personal and professional conjunction that announced an ending to decades of relationships.  And it began by a simple delivery of product from a beer distributor inquiring to the bartender if they knew why an establishment wasn’t open that morning.  As the server also worked at the other location, he quickly made a call, only to find out that it had closed last night without any notice at all.  All of sudden the wheels were put into motion as the phone tree began to spread the news and link the evidence.

I knew just enough about the situation, to sit and wonder, why now, what was I to gain to be placed here eating Eggs Benedict?  But it was the energy that I felt that really hit home. Why was I absorbing all the hurt, confusion, and dismay of the strangers and even care enough to eavesdrop on the scenario?

For my birthday I decided to treat myself to a Tarot Card reading.  A long time fan of this art form, I firmly believe that money spent on a yearly reading is a far better investment (and frankly more positive) than consulting with your corner psychologist. Thanks to google and yelp, I stumbled upon a very nice Japanese woman, who in my opinion, not only gave a great reading, but treated the visit more business like and less hocus pocus.  Not only did she shed light on many key issues, but really hit the nail on the head of my current life position.

One concept that she brought forward, is that she told me I was an empath.  Having no clue of the definition of an empath, I quickly inquired what characterizes such a person?  She then asked if I was a sensitive person.  I quickly responded not really.  I am not one to sit around and cry or get emotional at every sappy commercial.  But that wasn’t the type of sensitivity she was referring to, it was do I pick up on energy?  A giant light bulb went off in my head.  Being a believer that we all carry energy, I have always noted to my close friends that I can read others energy.  More like if your energy is negative or false, I put out a vibe to stay clear as I will see right thru your nonsense.  Basically, there is a zero protection field surrounding me.  Each and every situation I experience, I am invested 110%.

Hasi, my reader, suggested a few books for me to read to find out more on the subject.  Being the resourceful girl that I am, I quickly went to my library app and requested a copy be delivered four blocks down the street.  This weekend I spent some time reviewing the topic and a few things came to light.  Some of the “ah ha” moments include:

1 – Empaths need sleep.  As you are built with basically no filter or boundary to block out energy coming or going, your body needs time to rejuvenate.  I have always required a good eight hours sleep and closer to nine is ever better.

2 – Water, empaths love water.  Read the following blog post from a year ago.  The calm that is gained from time on my balcony is unmeasurable. (

3 – Crowds of people make me uncomfortable.  I always thought my need to sit in the back of the room and be able to see the landscape, came from a lifetime of being with my Dad.  But, after doing a little research, I believe it is also one of the coping mechanisms that I have introduced into my life to protect my energy.

4 – Set limits and boundaries.  After a few years in the classroom, I began to develop the habit of controlling my day, instead of allowing the day to just unfold randomly.  Being productive and having the feeling of completion results in self-satisfaction in my world.  It is uncomfortable to have the day “hijacked” by interruptions and drop in meetings.

After absorbing all this new information, the subject matter got me thinking.  In the today’s world there is so much negativity.  Scan your social media sites, watch the news, or listen to the conversation next to you at the local café, people today focus on the bad.  I am not saying that there aren’t events that have happened to lead people down this path, but if all our energy stays focused on the negative, how can we ever feel the good?

I avoid large groups, conflicted conversations, and areas that wreak of lots of noisy energy.  Some think I am unfriendly, I have been told I am intimidating (which makes me giggle, as I am the biggest marshmallow inside), or that I am hard to approach.  When I am working, there are times I am in deep thought, and these characteristics arise.  But for the most part, it is just my energy trying to stay in the zone and not bounce around collecting all the particles of useless matter floating in the universe.

My life will continue to have countless “reality TV” show moments.  I attract it and, at times, secretly love it.  But in the end, I have learned to own my outwardly vibe.  The energy you bring forth everyday matters.  Be aware and own it, I dare you.   On my way to exercise this morning, the above song came on the radio, and the lyric “you only get what you give” just seemed to sum up all these thoughts.  If you constantly state the glass is half empty, then guess what you are going to get pretty thirsty.



Math Doesn’t Lie – The Key to Accomplishing Your Annual Aspirations

“Lets get the girl to check the numbers” – John Glenn (Hidden Figures)

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First Birthday with my Grandma, Mom, Kelly & Stacy.

Today is my birthday.  Five days into the new year and I am already another year older.  A great date to be born if you are a thoroughbred racehorse, and one I have come to appreciate.  It is also the time of year when mankind ponders the expectations of the next 365 days, plots their aspirations and has an unlimited capacity of hope of new beginnings.  Being a huge fan of a good list of goals, I am no exception.  I took a few minutes before composing this stimulating body of work to review my mindset over the past five years.

True to form, I strategically tried to come up with a fresh approach to the concept of New Years’ Resolutions annually, yet keeping with my underlying notion of learning, growing and improving my general condition.  My favorite two posts with regards to this subject matter were in 2015 ( and 2018 (  One was more of a prescription to cut myself some slack and the other expanded my tasks over the 12-month period.  The later even went so far to offer a metric and timeline.  The measurement element got me thinking, my standard, go to tool for problem solving is breaking down the numbers.

I love math.  It doesn’t lie.  There is one right answer.  It essentially allows one to place things in a series of checks and balances.  (Don’t even get me started of the beauty of a good Excel spreadsheet).  Living with my math minded thought process, I found at the root of all I do is the concept of averages.  I break everything down to a per “this or that”.  A great example is my step counting.  The target is 10,000 places my feet travel daily, however a 70,000 step week is the success mark.  The average allows me to spread the attempt over a week.  Glancing through my catalog of blog posts, one can easily find traces of the art of the mean sprinkled through the content.

I started going to an exercise program called Orange Theory last spring.  By no means am I a model student, actually I have one of the trainers believing I am a secret shopper sent to make sure he is doing his job, that is how uncoordinated my performance appears.  However, I have found true success because of the ability to track numbers.  The option to wear a heart monitor and calculate calories is my metric.  Each class, once 500 plus calories is hit, success bells go off in my head.  The also send me weekly and monthly reports, the data is music to my ears.

Not one to float through life with no form of accountability, I developed a plan for 2019, one formula at a time.  Staying true to my initial mission of my blog, I have been challenging myself to look at writing from a new perspective. Increasing my chances of success, I have broken the chore down by the numbers.  Here are three forms of writing that will be adding to my blog in the coming year.

1 – It occurred to me that developing a short story would be a new channel of writing. Google states a short story can be anywhere from 1,000 to 20,000 words.  Seeing how this prose is already over 500 words, my goal is going to be 15,000 words.  Breaking that down in a thirty-day period would be 500 words a day, or if I g myself the full year and did a weekly average, I would only have to jot down 288.46 words a week.  Being a realist and building in some cushion, deadline to post the first short story is March 1, 2019.  Are you wondering what will my subject matter be; love, life, adventure?  Nope, I am going to the source of my knowledge, work.  Experiencing 25 years in the fair industry, there is a blurred line between fact and fiction.  Focusing on transcribing a single day of events, will be a twenty-four-hour escapade that will seem beyond the latest science fiction thriller.

2 – Six Degrees of Separation Cookbook. There it is folks.  The title of my collection of recipes from my family and friends.  I collect and connect people all the time (Kevin Bacon has nothing on me). The concept of six degrees of separation is a generalization to the average social distance being logarithmic in the size of a population. There is some math for you to all mull over. I have always wanted to preserve the traditions of our family and the meals we have shared.  As I grow older my family expands exponentially by the number of friends that are adopted into our circle.  This is a dream of mine to share photos, stories and recipes of my tribe.  Early estimates are 36 -40 entries.  Breaking it down over a nine-month period is an average of 4 -5 pages completed monthly.  Goal of completion is early fall as this will be my 2019 Christmas Favorite Thing.  Keep an eye on your inbox, because I am coming to collect your content.

3 – Finally, I need to travel.  I miss logging into my United account and finding a reservation waiting for me.  How is she going to spin this into writing?  I would like to visit three new places in 2019.  Planning the trip and sharing the experience, must include a writing element.

Checking goals off a list is similar to keeping score.  But who decides what counts, who determines if it is out of bounds, who calls the penalties?  I love the movie Hidden Figures (not to mention how much I would adore a giant black board with a ladder).  Not only does it tell an amazing story, but the significance of math  to the success of space travel.  At the end of day, before John Glenn went up in space, he wanted the flight data confirmed by a girl over all the NASA engineers, scientists and mathematicians.  Girls and math, that might be a whole other post, but as a girl who lives by the numbers I find it inspiring.  Math has no emotion, it isn’t sensitive, doesn’t worry about being politically correct and can’t create a spelling error.  It is an internal scoreboard that calculates the truth.  Ultimately, we are our own referee, we get to call fouls on ourselves, we get to keep score and if you just calculate a little math into your life you will always get the right answer.

(By the way this post is 1,083 words)

Stretching Beyond the Land of Oz

As we count down the final days of 2018, I once again realize that my writing goal has fallen short of the expectation I created for myself 363 days ago.  Not that words don’t fill my head daily or that I don’t have countless half completed posts scattered among many electronic devises, it is that to write for me is more about the staunchness I give to the process.  An inner confidence that shuts the world out allows me to share my thoughts.

On Christmas Eve, during candle light service, Pastor Amy reflected on the world today and how we as people can continue to have hope.  One of the words she used to demonstrate her point was capacity. Capacity the maximum amount that something can contain or the ability or power to do, experience, or understand something.  The word struck a nerve.  The ability or power to experience something, is poetry to my ears.

Literally my focus at work has been all about Dorothy and her fateful journey to the Land of Oz. Complete with a trip to the mid-west and a visit to the Wizard of Oz Museum in Kansas.  One of the major differences between Baums’ writings and the MGM movie, is the Land of Oz is a real place in the books, not a dream.  Over the years (usually when I am flying) I have started numerous posts that tell the tale of the “fly over states” and how the area in between the coasts really offer a unique perspective. To a California girl, the people, the scenery, the pace of life (not to mention the price of gas) is like visiting another world. Driving through Kansas, Missouri and Oklahoma, encountering new people, examining the country side the new visions began to come into focus.

Exploring the adventure of Dorothy and her friends, the central themes of Home, Heart, Courage and basic Smarts, have lead me on my own journey.  Believing in good things come when we stretch ourselves beyond our comfort zones, being more courageous has been my goal.  And not in the jump out of an airplane type of way, but more in being brave in decision making.  At first this concept was aimed as a new mantra for managing people in my professional life, but I soon discovered that it spilled into every nook and cranny of my world. As I sat there on December 24, with the nagging feeling that the universal has been talking to me the past few months, and it wasn’t about being courageous, but more about my capacity for the “stretch”.

You may wonder, what exercises am I using to extend my comfort zone.  The first and by far the hardest for me, is not to take everything personal.  When your decision isn’t popular, but you know it is the right one, don’t take it personal when others disagree.  I could never be a politician.  Think about it, even if you win, there is still huge population of people that didn’t vote for you.  My ability to take things to heart has served me well, but it also has caused me to suffer for no reason at all.  A key for me has been not to feel the need to defend or get in a debate, but hold steed fast to my choice and move forward.

Living alone, after years of having people under your roof, is another new journey.  I am discovering that courage to venture out and not feel alone.  Having a meal out or going to the beach, I find taking something to read, a note pad to write, or anything to distract my attention away from the fact that I am sitting there by myself, really helps.

But I think the two biggest concepts that I have adopted (and they tend to work well together) is time and perspective. Allowing yourself time to react or to pass, while trying to seeing other’s perspectives can really ease the stress on the next step.  I am not the most patient person and expression of my thoughts is important.  I have discovered pulling out my cell phone and writing down in the note section everything I want to say at the moment, helps me through the time and takes the rashness out of the final message.  If the message ever even happens at all.

Dorothy found her way with a little help from her friends.  Making my way down my own yellow brick road, the relationships I develop along the journey have given me all the lessons that Oz can teach.  From learning new things to creating a home, experiencing love to hearing my inner self roar, I am only a flying monkey away from a complete novel.  Although life breeds the best fiction, I can’t wonder if the course of events that have transpired since the first of October were written in the stars, sent for content for my best-selling novel or me stretching my capacity to be the authentic me?  Check back next year at this time and we shall see what happens.


The Big Exhale

Last night I was preparing my second bedroom to welcome the contents from my home up north and relocate Lilly’s room to the beach.  I know, I know, you will all say “Jacky, you have been moving for the past two years”, but I finally bit the bullet and agreed to allow long term renters into my home. Turning my Paso Robles address into a house and my Cardiff pad into a home.

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The view last night from my porch in Cardiff.

In true fashion, I have reorganized each and every inch to make way for the new belongings that will arrive here on Sunday. The temporary queen size air mattress that has welcomed all my guests was next on my list to pack up.   Looking at this giant volume of air, I was a little perplexed of the ease to deflate and store.

Upon opening the nozzle, I decided to expedite the process by stretching across the surface.  Soon the contents were bellowing out filling the room with the sound of progress.  Laying there I began to feel the bed give away and slowly my body floated to the floor. As I sank deeper and deeper into my surroundings, I realized that I too was letting out a big release.  The room was quiet and for the first time in five months, so was my mind.

For the past, few months I have been going full steam ahead.  At times, I felt like the hamster on the wheel, no time to eat, sleep or even breath.  Literally there have been days that the sound of my cell phone would trigger the instant thought of “What is wrong”.  I accept that I am a natural worrier and tend to struggle with the ability to turn off my mind, but this was a whole new level of being on constant alert.  In that state of mind, without even realizing, one can very easily forget to exhale.

But laying there on the floor, listening to the mattress deflate it wasn’t the unfinished tasks that crossed my mind, but of all I have accomplished. Professionally and personally, I have been clearing hurdles on a daily basis.  The biggest was moving out of my house.  Reliving every moment of my three kids lives through photos, awards, toys and stories.  As hard as it was to let go, it wasn’t near as bad as I imagined.  And the distance has given me a better perspective.

Grandma Treva always says, “This too shall pass”, and Beth Wonson loves to use the phrase, “Grace is in the space”, these two women are really on to something.  Time and distance really are the best medicine for a new perspective.  As I laid on the floor last night I decided to give myself a much-needed vacation from …… me.  Keeping with the 2018 resolution schedule, I am going to switch August and September.  I am going to make August all about me.

Putting yourself first, surely doesn’t sound like the most humble and popular idea.  Like lining up a daily chore sheet and remembering to add your name at the very top.  Who does that?  But, maybe one can do it, by being clever in the way they go about their day?  Instead of feeling the urgency of answering every question that come to you like a carefully served tennis ball, let the emails, texts, interruptions fall to the ground.  Pick up the ones that need solving and kick the rest to the curb.  Give yourself some space.  Spend time doing things you enjoy.  Don’t go around holding your breath, let go and open your eyes to your surroundings.

One of my favorite exercises when I taught marketing at Cal Poly, was the tea cup lesson.  Asking the students to draw tea cups, both simple and ornate would produce some real artistic qualities across the classroom.  But when you showcase all the work and ask if any one drew the cup from looking down, the room would fall silent.  Getting your mind to change it’s perspective is a chore.  But allowing your mind the time to expand and reposition can really help one see a whole new world of possibilities.  And who knows, maybe a change in perspective might be the best reminder to remember to open your mouth and exhale.

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