We were sitting at Staci's oak dining room table, munching on salad - six women from different backgrounds, with different skills sets. And what skills they were! One woman could build you some new kitchen cabinets, then grow you a bountiful garden and can all that goodness til the cabinets were filled. Another could rewire your house, sew up a cool purse and give you a stunning makeover. Another could plan your campaign for public office and then write a novel about the experience. Then someone else could write a play about it, then adapt it for a screenplay. Which several of us could produce and direct and then create a film festival to show it. One of us could throw the kick ass premier party, and another bring the shrimp etouffee - the real thing, mind you. And if you get too rowdy at the party, we even have someone who could read you your rights and run you downtown.
In other words, it was one hell of a lunch.
We were meeting to brainstorm about all things Flying Anvil. To share what we've accomplished so far and plan our next steps. Staci and I are opening up the process to people who have said they want to help, which is exciting - and a little scary. Adding in more voices and hands will means sharing the load and benefiting from the rich experience these women bring to the table. But it also means letting go of some control. Which is a challenge for me.
So I took a deep breath, drank a little wine and focused my control freak tendencies on keeping the discussion on track. Yes, I am the agenda Nazi. But I also listened to all the wise counsel and good ideas. I am grateful to have such people in my life. And humbled by their generosity.
Oh, yeah. We all arrived to find a plumbing truck parked in front of Staci's house and two legs sticking out from under her house, like the Wicked Witch of the East in Timberlands, All the water was off for the duration of our meeting and I was beginning to fear that splitting that bottle of wine wasn't such a good idea, when the plumber finally finished the repair.
We went out and gave her a heartfelt standing ovation.
Yep, her. The plumber was a woman.