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Showing posts from September, 2013

31 Days of Life

It is October and once again I am going to link up with The Nester and write to a theme every day in October.

FUN FACT:  The Nester is Emily from Chatting At The Sky's sister.

Last year was 31 Days of Storytelling.
This year is 31 Days of Life.

I know, that is pretty vague but there is a WHOLE LOTTA life getting ready to happen this month:

2 events at church to plan,
a homecoming dance to endure,
a trip with Monte to Memphis,
a production of Annie to prepare for, 
basketball tryouts
and of course…
our family Halloween costumes to assemble.
But that's life so I will try to write it down and laugh with it or attempt to learn from it

and maybe throw in some random things that pop into my head as well
like what my dream was about last night  or what I hot glued  or threw in a pot together for dinner.
But I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for the last one. I am going to be busy!
**If you don't want to miss a single day of this series, sign up to receive posts right in your ema…

Things That Make Me Scratch My Head

No, I don't mean dandruff

or bedbugs. (She said in a whisper so as not to invite them into her home.)
There are just things that I don't get

in a scratch-my-head kinda way.
Not big huge things like human trafficking or babies with cancer.
I will never understand that.
No, I am talking about the little-things-that-make-you-go-hmmm kinda things.

Intentional walks in baseball.

You know, when the catcher goes way away from the hitter so the pitcher can lob the ball in all slow to him like he is back in the coach-pitch league.

And the hitter is just left to stand there in the batter's box all awkward not knowing what to do with himself.
Yes, Monte has tried to explain the strategy of potential runs versus outs and blah, blah, blah.
But I am left

scratching my head.
Recumbent bikes. 

You know, the bicycle that positions you into a lounge chair recline while you ride.

They sit so low that I feel they are dangerous.
That and the fact that I have never seen one ride in the bike lane


"This Is the Way; Walk In It"

After 14 years of living in a college town, I finally made it to a college football game.

My husband has been to many games and never wanted to "waste" good tickets on me.

To be fair,

he was in the right.
I am much more about people watching than game watching.
Much more interested in half-time shows than touchdowns.
But this time it was MY friend that offered us tickets.

So I graciously let Monte come.
I'm a real peach like that.
The day started out dark and chilly and wet.

But it dried up just in time for a brunch tailgate.

Check out the "breakfast" cupcakes I brought from Chocolate Cafe:

They truly are geniuses with flavor and icing.
Our seats were amazing.

We had such an amazing view as the band entered the field.

What precision in their steps and movements.

Never mind the flexibility.
But it was the half-time show that blew me away.

While the university band was forming the traditional script Ohio on the field

(it is a BIG deal who gets to dot the "i"…

My Blue Jeans Record Player

A few weekends ago my 14-year-old daughter, McDaniel begged Monte to get a new needle for my old record player.
Yes, I said MY and RECORD PLAYER.
I got this bad boy for my 8th or 9th birthday. 
I always referred to it as my Blue Jeans Record Player.
As in,
"Oh, you are having a sleepover Friday night?  Should I bring over my Blue Jeans Record Player?"
"Hey, you want to roller skate in the unfinished room in my basement to Disco Duck? Great! Let me go get my Blue Jeans Record Player!"

It was quite portable in case you missed the kicky handle on top.

I took it everywhere when it didn't live on top of my wooden bookcase

(the one my dad made me that is now in Ellie's room).
I played TOO DEATH the Grease album

(even though I was not allowed to see the movie until YEARS later),

and Michael Jackson's Thriller.

Of all the things that my mother has thrown out of mine through the years,
don't get me started where Rub-a-Dub dolly went

or the unknown condition 

A Perfect Saturday

It was one of those days that seemed like 2 days,

it was so packed full
yet completely relaxing.
We had nothing planned.

[Happy sigh]
Monte and I took a nice long walk through our neighborhood and the air was crisp enough for a fleece to be worn.

Oh, how I love this time of year!
We walked to the local middle school hoping to take a lap or two around the track.
There was a football game going on. Monte was thrilled to watch a play or two before we continued on.
We passed a breakfast place and saw people eating omelettes and drinking coffee outside on mismatched vintage tables and chairs.
We passed the local fireman running around the neighborhood for exercise.
(Or they passed us.)
It was one of those mornings right out of a movie.
You know, the beginning part where the names of the producers and directors and studios are still being shown and there is a kicky song being played while the camera stays on Monte and I walking through our neighborhood.
And then our "characters" are …

We Bought A Trampoline

We have been saying no to getting a trampoline for years.

For many reasons.

Kills the grass.
Takes up too much room in the yard.
We had been noticing that when we sent the girls outside for some fresh air they seemed like they didn't know where to go. 
They don't play on our swing set anymore 
the one my dad made from scratch.
They needed a gathering spot.
I talked with some neighbors and found out that their college age kids still jump on their trampoline when they are home.
And not just jump
they HANG OUTon it.
even camp out over night on it.
Monte and I started to weigh the pros and the cons of purchasing a trampoline.
When we found out that friends were moving and needed to sell their trampoline and would arrange for the disassembly, assembly and moving of the thing
the pros won.
We bought a trampoline.

The girls are THRILLED!
In the short month we have had the trampoline, 
the girls have jumped until th…

A Celebration of Humanity

Our community has a Labor Day arts festival every year.

I don't normally go since standing in line to eat food made out of a truck in the 110 degree heat is usually not enough of a selling point for me.

Or the overly priced pieces of colored glass sold from tents.
Although, I have always wanted to learn how to blow glass.

I have seen it demonstrated several times  and it never ceases to amaze me.
We can heat something to a red hot stage and then

using nothing more than the air from our lungs
blow it into some amazingly elegant shape.
Even if I blew nothing more than odd shaped bubbles, I'd still want to learn how.

And I will.
Oh, I will.
And then I will be so proud of my odd shaped hand-blown glass bubbles  that I will call it "art" and sell it from a tent at a festival.
So the moral of that rabbit trail story?
Don't judge. You don't know what dreams are being fulfilled when you pick up  some misshapen piece of glass with a hefty price tag.

So we went to the arts fes…