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A year ago, I sat with my racing thoughts over a cup of steaming coffee. With my trembling hand, I scribbled down five audacious life visions on my notecard. There were no lingering doubts that these longings had indeed come from deep within, but I wrestled with what to do

“Heather, don’t drop the throw pillows on the grass. They might get dirty.” A man wearing a tool belt disappeared behind the parked car to retrieve a rather large wooden sign that creatively captured scrolled initials hanging by a brightly colored ribbon.  I watched in awe as a puffy comforter,