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Showing posts from May, 2013

Chick Flick Of My Choice

So I up and mowed the lawn.

That is normally a job for Monte. 
But he has been so busy lately at work

 and the grass was getting so tall that the dog was starting to pee on the driveway. 
 Nigel can be so dramatic sometimes.

So I woke up yesterday and decided that I would surprise Monte and mow the lawn.
I started early so I could beat the heat
it was expected to be close to 90 yesterday.
Then I found that my iPod was dead.
What is this? The 17th century?
I can't mow the lawn without music.
So I plugged it in for a quick charge while I downloaded the new Amy Grant album.

She sings a song with James Taylor.
I like it!
When all that was over
I had to pick up all the twigs that our enormous Sycamore sheds on any given day.
We could never have a pool
it would be filled with sticks and leaves the size of my face.
Then I had to pick up all of Nigel's 
well, you know.
My grandmother always told us to watch out for the cow "toy toy" when walking in the pasture with her.
Yeah, …


It happens in so many different ways

this "mothering"
whether it is the way we mother our kids
or the way we are mothered by our own.

Or both.
I was at a graduation party yesterday

in the middle of a conversation with a friend
when out of the corner of my eye (who am I kidding? I flat out full-faced stared)
while the mother of the hostess

picked up a color-coordinated decorative napkin
walked up to the lamp that was on the buffet table
and began to dust all up in the lamp.

The room was packed with people.
From my vantage point

I could see all the dust particles unleash onto the cookie platter  and bowls of peanut M&Ms below on the table.
I found it

so. funny.
It was one part sweet:

"Let me help you out, sweetie."
One part rude:

"Let me help you out, sweetie, since you clearly didn't take the time to dust."
One part just funny:

"Oh, that story is just so interesting, but I am having trouble focusing since there is SO MUCH DUST  all up in that lamp over ther…

With Friends Like These…

As we made preparations to leave for Indiana for my grandmother's funeral,

I asked my girlfriend, Carisa, to pick up our dog Nigel from the boarder
so he'd be home when we got home Saturday night.
That meant Carisa had a key to our house.

[Can anyone else hear the foreboding dramatic music of doom in the background?]
Yeah, neither did I.

Which is why I gave her the key to our house.
On our drive home, 
I got a sweet call from my friend Sumita asking about the funeral.
She was with Carisa
in my house.
She called to let me know Nigel was okay.
And to see if I was okay.
As we talked I got the distinct feeling she was distracted.
I heard muffled giggles.
Carisa! (Said like Seinfeld saying, "Newman!")
I asked if Carisa was trying on my clothes.
Or hiding a clown on my husband's side of the bed. (Which is basically the same thing as attempted murder.)
I got a distracted sing-songey "Noooo" for an answer.
Then the pictures started coming via text:

Yeah, that is…

Love Blooms

Lilacs and peonies always remind me of my grandmother.

I came home from her funeral this past weekend to find that my peonies had bloomed.

What a lovely reminder

that she lives on
in heaven.
My grandmother lost her younger sweet sister, Vivian (Bibby if you are family) back in the winter.

Aunt Bibby got scarlett fever when she was quite young. She became very ill and her mother (my great grandmother, Mabel), asked her 6 children at the time (there would eventually be 9) to go out into the yard and find a quiet spot to pray. 
Pray hard.
For Bibby to be healed.

God saw fit to heal Bibby and the family committed themselves wholly to walking with Christ and never looked back.
But the illness weakened Bibby's heart.
She had surgery to repair some of that damage this past winter but never recovered.
At her funeral, my dear sweet grandmother told Bibby's daughter, Gwen, something she had never told anyone before.
"You know where I went in the yard when Mother told us to go pray for …

Adjustable Spirit

My grandmother, MaMa, went to be with the Lord May 14th.

She was 87 years old and due to be released from the hospital after a bout of pneumonia the day she died of a sudden heart attack.

My aunt Connie said it best when she said the doctor told her she could go home on Tuesday:

"We thought the doctor meant home to her apartment, but he meant HOME home."
I have a fabulous family of deep faith.
Our family reunions always included singing of hymns and lots of talk of "our friend Jesus".
There is no question where my grandmother is right now.
She is home.
But oh, how she will be missed.
I am 43 years old and still had a grandmother until a week ago.

I don't feel like I have the right to complain about grief when I know people my age who have lost their parents
And here I sit with the absolute privilege that my husband knew both sets of my grandparents.
They were at our wedding.
They prayed for Monte when we thought he had cancer in our first year of…

10 Favorite Things

I have never done this before

even though it is very popular in the blogosphere
you know, to list some of my favorite things.
Not Oprah style

I am not giving anything away.
Although, that is popular in blogland too--giveaways.

If you have actual sponsors
and more than 20 people who follow your blog.
But quite frankly,

I usually just hit delete when I see a post about a giveaway.
I don't have the storage and/or counter space for an orange Kraftmaid mixer

and as much fun as I think I could have with a Silhouette machine,

my practical side says,

"You don't need that."
Funny though,

my practical side was pretty quiet when I recently purchased 
1) a rusty old food scale (see how I transitioned right into my 10 favorite things without getting too far down the rabbit trail?)

and 2) 5 silver spoons and 5 silver forks.
I found these treasures at this great little shop by my girlfriend's house. They have an AMAZING collection of vintage dresses labeled by decade.


Then she got…