When We Miss Jesus

During our recent Easter church service, it really popped out at me that after Jesus had risen, Mary Magdalene didn’t recognize Him.

In fact, she thought Jesus was the gardener. 

The gardener!

Sobbing that Jesus was gone, Mary asked this "gardener" if He had taken Jesus’s body.

Isn’t that something?

She didn’t recognize Jesus!

But Jesus wasn’t offended.

He just called her by name.

And then she knew.

Instantly.

Read it for yourself in John 20:10-18.

Our pastor showed us a Rembrandt depicting the scene.

Rembrandt has Jesus holding a shovel like a gardener. Mary is crying on the steps of the tomb.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that.

The not recognizing Jesus.

It’s so easy for me to think, duh, Mary, how could you NOT know Jesus standing right in front of you?

She had just been walking around with Him.

She saw Him teach and perform miracles.

You’d think she would know better than most,

every wrinkle in His face 

and the amazing love in His eyes.

But she didn’t.

Maybe that’s because it was still somewhat dark as dawn was just breaking.

Maybe that’s because Mary wasn’t just crying that Jesus was gone, she was wailing.

According to my bible notes, wailing means 

“a loud expression of grief.”

Is it possible Mary was too caught up in her own grief 

to see Jesus standing right in front of her?

My bible notes also say that perhaps Jesus appeared to Mary first, 

before any of the other disciples, 

because she needed Him most at that time.

Jesus revealed Himself to comfort her.

The disciples didn’t recognize Him at first either when Jesus was standing by the edge of the water while they were fishing not far from shore.

Isn’t that interesting…?

I always find it curious what is included in the scriptures.

Little details that show the real humanity of the characters of the bible 

that I could easily view as spiritual superheroes.

But they were just like us.

Like earlier in John 20 when it talks about the disciples running fast to the tomb to see if Mary was telling the truth that Jesus wasn’t there and it goes on to mention who got there first.

As in, who was the fastest.

FYI:  it wasn’t Peter.

And since John was the author of the book, 

I can only assume who the winner was.

Total macho humanity.

And back in the Old Testament, in Numbers 12:3,

“(Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.)"

Moses wrote Numbers, by the way.

That’s some false humble humanity right there.

Then there’s Martha and Mary. While Martha was busy getting everything ready for what I have to imagine was quite a meal, Mary was sitting at Jesus’s feet listening to Him.

Martha was so put out and flustered that she tattled on Mary to Jesus.

“Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

Luke 10:40

Did she really just try to boss Jesus around?!

Jesus put her in her place,

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:41-42

Martha missed Jesus and He was IN. HER. HOUSE.

That’s some ugly, transparent, truthful humanity.

Especially if you are a woman

and have ever worked in a church kitchen.

Or just your own at home.

Those details ultimately are comforting.

Because it’s no different today than it was 2,000 years ago.

We miss Jesus all the time.

Or we try to boss Him around.

We get caught up in who will finish the race first

or how we can appear humble doing it 

or what we will serve for dinner and who will help us.

We walk right past Jesus because we think He’s the gardener.

We miss the whole amazing fact that 

HE’S SITTING IN OUR HOUSE.

But He’s so patient to call us by name.

To steer us back to Him from our own humanity rabbit trail.

To comfort us.

Yoo hoo! 

Karmen! 

Over here. 

This is the way. 

Let’s walk in it.

The Grocery Store, Bernie Sanders, My Friend’s Father and Bah Humbug

We got back from Spring Break a few days before Easter.

I’ve been to the grocery store a lot since then.

One just to get supplies for necessary living after being gone for a week.

And then to stock up for Easter brunch.

I made some great new recipes which I will share soon.

And then again to get McDaniel stocked up with supplies

 for a school trip to New York City.

During one visit to the grocery store with my brunch menu in hand, I saw who I thought was presidential candidate Bernie Sanders.

After a few side way glances in the toothpaste aisle, 

I determined he smiled far too much to be Bernie Sanders.

Then I swear I saw my childhood friend’s father. He looked JUST like him. Same smile, build, everything! I followed him through frozen foods to try to sneak a picture to send to my friend but then I realized that I can barely take a picture smoothly WHEN I WANT TO let alone when I want to do it on the sly.

So I went back to my list.

I decided to make a lighter, less sweet punch for Easter than my grandmother’s slushy punch recipe.

The recipe called for peach nectar.

I thought, no big deal, go to the juice aisle.

Not there.

Then I looked in the organic section’s juice aisle.

Nope. 

They had something called Bilberry Nectar 

and a drinkable aloe 

but not peach nectar.

So I thought maybe this was something fancy people put into fru-fru mixed drinks with little umbrellas so I took my full shopping cart to that aisle.

I stood there looking at all manner of flavored things and something called bitters when an older man came around the corner fast and ran into my cart with his.

With a scowl on his face he loudly said,

“Bah!”

Then pushed his cart off.

Bah?! 

As in humbug?

Do people still say Bah Humbug?!

So I know now that I did NOT indeed see Bernie Sanders or my childhood best friend’s father in the grocery store.

But I was just one humbug shy of running into Ebeneezer Scrooge!

**The peach nectar was not in the mixers section.**

A few texts later my friend directed me 

(and by me I mean Monte because I could NOT

 go to one. more. grocery store.) 

to the Mexican section of the store and we struck peach nectar gold!

Only God

I want to talk about suffering.

I know.

[Insert needle scratching across a record noise here]

Killjoy!

I have had a front row seat to some people who are suffering over the past year.

Some a few rows further back.

Some more like a passing glance.

But each example has been amazing.

Not that these particular people have been in pain

but it was HOW they handled it 

that blew me away.

I’ve come to realize that I’ve never felt more in the presence of God than when I’m watching someone suffer well.

Not be in denial.

Or put on a happy mask for the public eye.

But true, real, breathing possession of the peace that surpasses all understanding.

It was as if I could feel God holding them in the palm of His hand.

The people I’ve witnessed were completely justified in feeling…bad.

Their circumstances were punches in the emotional and spiritual gut.

But instead of grieving in such a way 

that clouded the space around them,

they lit it up.

Monte described one of the suffering people in our lives after running into them at the grocery store as glowing.

Only God.

Only God as our light can pierce the darkness of this world.

And only God can heal the cracks in our heart,

if we let Him, 

so that His joy in us makes. us. glow.

It has moved me to tears several times.

Happy, 

grateful, 

full-of-awe, 

“only God” 

tears.

I called to console someone recently on a tremendous loss and yet I was the one blessed by the conversation.

I found myself thanking her for the blessing before hanging up.

Only God.

To be able to speak articulately and inspirationally without breaking down at the funeral of your spouse taken too soon?

Only God.

If any of these people hadn’t acted in these ways,

God would’ve still been right there with them in their suffering.

But because THEY DID,

well, I’m writing this post.

It’s inspired me.

I want that.

Not the suffering, 

although I know it will come someday.

I want the overwhelming confidence that God will be BIGGEST through my weakest moments.

That I will not only not be crushed,

but through my “not being crushedness,”

 God will bless someone.

And who knows, 

they might write a blog post about it.

I want someone someday with a front row seat to my suffering to say,

“Only God.” 

8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

Birthdays!

I’ve been so busy.

I’ve written about our trip to Miami for Monte’s 50th birthday but I haven’t uploaded all the pictures and the thought of doing that right now is exhausting.

I will get to it.

At some point.

So…it’s March!

My dear friend Sumita had a big birthday.

There was an “incident” when I was walking to my car with those number balloons.

It decided to get windy all of a sudden.

And the 0 whipped right over my head,

well, on my head I should say.

My head was peaking out of the middle of the 0 like I was wearing a neck brace. 

A really big, metallic pink neck brace.

I feared I’d let go of the balloons so I bent my head to hold the 0 against my neck and shoulder.

Another gust of wind whipped the hook part of the 5 against the back of my leg.

I thought that was good so I could kinda hold it there by sliding my leg along like it was wooden.

I heard a kid in the parking lot say,

“Mommy, look at the balloons!”

I couldn’t see the kid because my head was inside 

an enormous 0.

I wanted to yell,

“Help! Don’t look at the balloons. Look at the woman trapped INSIDE the balloons!”

Anyhoo,

our women’s bible study gathered for lunch to honor Sumita.

I love these women!

It was an elephant theme since Sumita loves elephants.

I cut out elephant shapes on different colored card stock and had everyone write down things they love about Sumita and advice for her now that she’s 50.

I printed out this cute picture and framed it for her.

Print by Marc Johns.

It says,

“I’m truly surprised that we seem to get by

without polka dot elephants, serving us pie."

I looked up some facts about female elephants and couldn’t help but see some similarities between the characteristics of the matriarch elephant and Sumita.

So I pointed them out, presentation style.

It was a fun day!

The very next day, my oldest baby turned 17.

Yes, she’s wearing a sack on her head.
And no, I have no idea why.

This is the last year she can’t be tried as an adult should she end up on the wrong side of the law.

(As my friend reminded me.)

When McDaniel saw Sumita’s cool balloons she asked for them for her birthday.

Back to the party store I went.

Even though it was pouring rain as I walked to my car with the balloons, there were no incidents.

No entanglement or kids pointed at me.

I called Sumita and pondered if that was prophetic.

17 is easier than 50.

She wondered why I was bringing that up to her ON HER 50th BIRTHDAY.

Back to McDaniel…

We snapped this before school.

McDaniel had trouble coming up with anything she wanted for her birthday except for what she ALWAYS asks for:  a goat. A goat that she will name Tom Hanks.

Still a no on that request.

But I did find this awesome gift bag.

How perfect! 

Inside was a pair of running pants I found on clearance at an expensive yoga store. 

They were labeled “Harlem Globetrotter” pants but they reminded me more of Rocky. 

Track season starts this week so I thought they’d be fun.

McDaniel had the SATs on Saturday so she saw fit to pump herself up by wearing her Rocky pants. We even watched Creed the night before to get her in the fighting spirit.

McDaniel told us she wanted to go to Waffle House for dinner.

Fine by us!

It seems like it has been a season of celebrations from February until now. And I didn’t even mention the bridal shower Julie and I hosted this past weekend.

I’ll post pictures of that next.

I had a cheese shredding incident…

Catching Up

It’s been awhile since I posted anything.

I’ll catch you up very quickly since this is the first day I’ve had the house to myself in like

12 days

(due to President’s Day and a snow day yesterday) 

and I have so much I HAVE to do 

and then a bunch of stuff I just WANT to do.

Monte and I went to Miami Beach for his 50th birthday.

Monte’s key lime pie birthday dessert.

He told me several months ago that all he wanted for his birthday was to be on an air boat in the Everglades looking for alligators.

Fine by me.

One of many birthday gator sightings at the Everglades.

We stayed in South Beach which we’ve been to a handful of times.

All before kids.

I just love the pastel painted 3-story or so hotels along the beach and all the unique restaurants.

We’ve stayed at the Boulevard 2 or 3 times. But not this time.

Nothing slick or overly fancy.

That’s on the north end of the beach where all the high rises are.

The trip started out on a Saturday with Monte getting the back of his head wanded by security because “something didn’t look right.”

As we were putting our watches and shoes back on Monte went up to security and asked what they saw or thought they saw on the back of his head.

I think he’s still a bit sensitive since the “flesh yarmulke” comment 

of New York City 2015.

The woman said, in a nutshell, and with little humor, that Monte had a large, strange-shaped head and needed a second look.

I wasn’t sure how she was going to take being questioned about her head wanding ways so I decided to throw in a “Oh, I get it.” I’d had two of Monte’s large-headed children, after all.

I thought she was going to fall over laughing.

Which, probably wasn’t the most sensitive thing I could’ve said 

considering Monte’s past issues.

But, we did make it through security.

Before we hopped on our flight, I went to the restroom where a custodial worker swept my feet while I was in the stall.

Like, I wasn’t even there.

Or like I WAS there but she didn’t have time to swing back by 

and hit that area after I was done.

On our flight, Monte said he wanted to be by the window and not stuck between two people since it was a three-seats-on-each-side-of-the-aisle kind of set up.

For whatever reason, he got stuck in the middle.

The woman who sat down next to him did not speak to him.

Or me.

She played Candy Crush until we took off and then whipped out two manuals on how to play tournament bridge.

Monte practically put his chin on her shoulder reading right along with her.

She would not even make eye contact with him.

He explained to me (and I’m sure not quietly) just how difficult bridge looked.

Then we both started reading and then laughing and then sharing with each other just what we found funny about what we had just read.

Both are funny reads!

I’m sure this woman hated us with the calculating mind that only a tournament bridge player could possess.

She should’ve talked to us.

We would’ve asked questions.

I’m sure Monte would’ve asked if she had a deck of cards in her purse and would she give him a tutorial.

But only after he showed her a card trick or two.

We landed in the sweet humidity of south Florida to find that our hotel had our reservation under Martha Hartranft instead of Monte.

It took very little persuading for the front desk guy to realize 

that Monte was indeed Martha.

More on Miami soon!

I’ve got to go enjoy ALL THE THINGS since, in case I haven’t mentioned, I have the house to myself FINALLY!

A Hairy Situation

I was vacuuming a few days ago when it started making a very weird noise.

“It” meaning the vacuum.

Not me.

Or anything coming from the fireplace.

This was NOT a “call the fire department” moment.

I decided to investigate the noise and realized a plastic piece on the side of the vacuum kept popping out.

Not sure why that particular piece was key to the operation of the ENTIRE vacuum 

but I didn’t design it.

I flipped the vacuum over and discovered the horror that was the rolling brush inside.

What in the holy hair?!

I had to give our vacuum a hair cut.

After I saw just how much hair I cut out of the poor roller brush, I started to understand why that plastic piece was trying to jump ship.

And wonder if Chewbacca did not in fact live in our house.

Honestly!

After that disgusting task, I tried using the vacuum again.

Didn’t help.

Not even a little bit.

The plastic piece kept falling out.

And I started noticing that it wasn’t really 

sucking anything up off the floor.

I called Monte and we figured out the vacuum was almost 10 years old and possibly not worth the repair cost of having it fixed.

So, with coupon in hand, I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and bought the cheapest thing I could find.

The last vacuum we had was a Dyson that we loved, 

until the noise 

and broken plastic piece 

and 

ALL THE HAIR,

but then, that’s our fault.

Monte and I quickly decided that we weren’t going to shell out the money for another Dyson and with him on the phone doing searches on brands, we decided to go with a Shark Rocket.

Mainly because it was on sale and I had a coupon.

And also because it was very lightweight.

And got good reviews.

This thing is powerful!

I have to keep it on the low setting or it tries to suck up an entire area rug!

It wasn’t until I was trying not to suck up all our area rugs that I realized it didn’t have any detachable hose features.

We definitely need that for our carpeted basement stairs.

So we’ve decided to get a handheld little cordless vacuum.

So, all is right with the world 

and there is a broken, 

hairless 

Dyson in the garage waiting for trash day.

In other news, McDaniel is getting her hair cut on Friday…

Going Green

Ok.

The green smoothie wasn’t bad.

It wasn’t bad AT ALL.

In fact, after I got over the shocking green color, 

it was GOOD.

It’s filling and makes me forget about wanting a second cup of coffee if I drink one for breakfast.

Click on the link for the recipe I found online at deliciouslysprinkled.com.

I liked this one because it didn’t include fruit juice which I think makes smoothies too sweet or dairy which I think makes smoothies too thick.

Here is how I make the Energizing Green Smoothie since I don’t like mango:

• 2 cups fresh spinach

• 2 cups water

Mix the water and spinach in the blender by themselves to get rid of green chunks.

THIS IS KEY.

Green chunks that stick in your teeth are bad 

if you ever want to drink a second green smoothie.

• 1 cup frozen strawberries

• 1 cup frozen pineapple

• 2 bananas

• 2 tablespoons chia seeds 

(I got the white ones because I know myself and drinking something 

with black seeds in it would freak me out)

They aren’t kidding about the energizing part.

I haven’t had to have my usual afternoon tea pick-me-up since having this for breakfast or an afternoon snack.

Over the weekend I ran out of spinach and strawberries and decided to substitute it with kale and raspberries.

The green was intense.

 It turned a gazpacho color.

It tasted like farts.

I’m sorry, that was graphic.

And 100% true.

But I forced myself to drink it since I tallied up the cost of all the fruit and it seemed a shame to waste.

And I didn’t go into intestinal distress like I feared,

so that’s… good.

I happily made a pitcher of my good ol’ spinach smoothies this morning. 

It makes 3 servings for me but I’m sure I could squeeze 4 out of it.

I either keep the pitcher in the fridge for later or I freeze the extra into separate ziplocs and defrost them in the sink under hot water before drinking them (I use a spoon to chunk up any left over frozen parts). 

Hope you like it and let me know how you alter the recipe.

Unless it involves kale.

Public Speaking

My high school daughter just started a public speaking class.

She gave her first speech this week.

McDaniel had to bring in three things that defined her in a bag that also had a tie-in.

She brought in things that represented her faith, her name and her love of writing.

All in a KFC bucket to represent her love of fried chicken.

She wasn’t nervous. 

Not even a little bit.

Public speaking is way up there in the top fears of man.

For some, even more so than death.

After speaking at my church’s women’s retreat this past October, 

I get that.

McDaniel told me all about the speeches that she will need to give over the next semester.

They are basically the same speeches I was required to give when I was in high school.

It brought me back.

And honestly, 

I don’t remember being nervous 

back then either.

I had THE BEST public speaking class.

It was filled with a variety of people due to the fact that everyone HAD to take this class to graduate.

I remember the girl who got so nervous during every. single. speech. that she shook uncontrollably and could barely hold her note cards or control her wavering voice.

It was so hard to watch.

But, boy, did we root for her.

It was a safe place.

I remember the sweet boy with the sheepish grin who, during his demonstration speech, 

decided to show us how to take out and put back in contact lenses.

He couldn’t read his notes when his contacts were out.

I remember the girl who showed us how to decorate a cake and passed out butter cream roses for the class to eat.

I would pay a lot of money for one right now.

I also remember the boy who showed us how to tag a hog’s ear.

I grew up in a small town surrounded by big farms.

He had cut out a construction paper ear and for reasons unknown,

(nerves, I hope)

he hole-punched the holy heck 

out of that construction paper hog’s ear 

until it completely fell apart.

I remember a boy with a poster board who had story-boarded in great stick-person detail, 

just how creatively he chose to torment his sister.

No one laughed harder at that speech than him.

And I laughed pretty hard.

It was fun listening to McDaniel talk about all the speeches she heard.

And who knows, 

she just might remember a few of them almost 30 years from now,

like me.

What about you? 

Do you have any high school/college public speaking memories?

I’d love to hear them!

Deadwood

When life gives you a predicament,

a real one,

not what to cook for dinner

or what to wear.

It is sooo easy to listen to what the world would have us to do

rather than God.

It’s easy to run to a person,

especially the one who will tell us we are always right, 

always justified,

and give us the absolute easiest solution possible

with little to no growth 

or change

or skin off our own nose.

The world is such a liar.

And it is filled with liars.

Liars that we go to for counsel.

We hear from them that it’s okay to pursue happiness over character.

Selfishness over community.

Obsession over moderation.

Personal rights over sanctity of life.

It’s how “unschooling” was born.

And a ridiculous term called “affluenza”.

And a disturbing show called “My Strange Addiction”.

When did the world decide that telling a kid to sit down and do their homework was destructive?

Or employing accountability?

Or telling an adult that NO they cannot pretend 

to be a lamp 

or eat Draino?

Once we accept Christ and actually read the bible, 

we come to know the truth.

Not “your truth” or “my truth”

which brings about spoiled brats 

and adults who treat their 182 Cabbage Patch dolls 

like real people,

or sadly,

explosive vests as a fulfillment to

“their truth."

Truth isn’t plural.

It is singular in every sense of the word.

And that word begins and ends as God.

So why do we not seek out the truth when we are in a tight spot?

We must get some sort of satisfaction out of staying up all night, 

wrung out with worry,

trying to figure it all out on our own.

God knew this would be our nature,

our sin nature.

So he gave us great verses like this:

“I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated you can’t produce a thing. Anyone who separates from me is deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire. But if you make yourselves at home with me and my words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon. This is how my Father shows who he is--when you produce grapes, when you mature as my disciples.”

John 15:5-8

The Message

God shows us who He is through our fruit 

(what we produce, alive and active in the truth)

and maturing in Him.

Meaning:  the predicaments in our lives are meant to grow us when we remain in Him.

Dependent on God.

The vine that keeps us alive.

Not the world.

In the end, “the harvest is sure to be abundant."

My study notes in the NIV version of this verse says that "God is glorified in the fruit-bearing of disciples.”

God is like an awesome orchard of vines so proud of all His grapes.

The vines that have broken away are nothing but deadwood worth nothing more than firewood.

I don’t know about you,

but I don’t want to be deadwood.

And I’ve been known to pick up driftwood at the beach 

and display it in my home.

Driftwood is deadwood.

It’s beautiful, though, isn’t it?

No fruit here.

What do we teach our children if we choose to be deadwood?

That when the going gets tough, 

pull away.

When life gets difficult,

try to fix it all by yourself.

In the end,

you are just an immature piece of deadwood 

waiting to be turned into a pile of ash.

Or a decorative knickknack.

That’s a grim future to choose compared to this promise:

“For I know the plans I have for you, “declares the Lord, “plans to proper you 

and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Jeremiah 29:11

Happy New Year

It’s 2016 and everyone, it seems, is trying to start fresh.

I talked with a girlfriend yesterday and we both were looking at meal planning websites to kickstart dinner time.

I hate routine when it comes to meals.

My palette needs variety.

And my eyes need color.

I can’t eat a plate of all brown.

Monte has no problem with that.

In fact, an all-brown plate is something 

he’d order a plate of right now.

With a side of meat on a stick.

So far, my meal planning has produced only two recipes.

I just can’t get my mouth around quinoa, bulgar and flax seed.

Why do SO MANY recipes include them?

Oddly enough, I also have a mild curiosity about making green smoothies.

Then I looked at the possible ingredients.

IF I take this green smoothie step,

there will be substitutions.

On top of wanting to add some variety to our meals,

I’m desiring to clean out all the things 

from all the areas of our house.

I talked with my neighbor about just this topic this morning.

There’s always that one room in the house 

where everything gets stashed.

For her, it’s a guest bedroom.

For me, it’s our master bedroom and the basement.

The master bedroom is the room in our house 

that has been neglected the longest.

Which is sad since it’s the room where I should feel relaxed, 

like a retreat

and not just the room that holds the unfolded laundry,

a library-sized stack of books

and luggage in between trips.

I started looking for master bedroom design ideas online and I don’t think it would be that hard/expensive to get the look I’m after.

But then again, I’m the one who willingly typed in “green smoothie recipes” into a Pinterest search.

With that caveat, 

and very poor transition,

I’m going to recommend a few things 

to add to your new year list making.

Things I think you’d love mainly because I do.

Monte and I saw the above dinosaur t-shirt in New York and I thought it was funny. 

How many times did our girls tell us they didn’t eat something 

when it was smeared all over their face?

I guess this is more of a funny than a recommendation.

Although, if you aren’t owning up to something you know you need to own up to 

because others have caught you in the middle of it, 

 maybe 2016 is your year to do that.

How's that for trying to get back on track 

from the rabbit trail?!

1.  Grandma Gatewood’s Walk:  The Inspiring Story of the Woman Who Save the Appalachian Trail by Ben Montgomery.

I bought this book for my dad last year and he couldn’t say enough about it. He gave it to me and it took me awhile to pick it up and start it. I can’t believe I waited so long to read it. It’s fantastic!!

Grandma Gatewood is a 67-year-old woman who decided to “take a walk” one day in the 1950s and ended up walking from Georgia to Maine. She had little supplies but a love for the forest and a great survivor spirit.

It should be a movie.

Instead of all those horror movies that keep getting released 

and anything Quentin Tarantino directs.

Speaking of movies…

2. War Room

Monte and I intended to see this movie in the theaters but didn’t. We got the DVD after Christmas and I’m so glad we own it! It’s such a great movie about forgiveness and the power of prayer.

This is not a chick flick. It should be seen by men as well as women.

3. My Southern Journey:  True Stories from the Heart of the South by Rick Bragg

My girlfriend Beth got this for me for my birthday. Rick Bragg writes a column for Southern Living magazine and Beth would often tear them out for me to read. He writes in such a way that you feel as if you’ve just HEARD him tell you the story from his own mouth.

He writes a whole chapter on dirt. 

And it’s fantastic.

This is a collection of some of his columns and other essays. It’s easy to pick up and read a few chapters before bed.

4. Pie Face

You’ve probably seen videos of people playing this game circulating around online. 

Monte did.

And he decided that we had to have this for Christmas.

But it was sold out most places.

Monte decided to buy from two different places to ensure a Christmas delivery.

One came within a few days.

The other came after Christmas with Chinese writing all over the box.

It didn’t disappoint.

It’s a game of chance where you risk getting a face full of whipped cream.

It really was random who’d get it and who didn’t.

The game also comes with a small sponge that you wet so you get soaked if the hand decides to do so.

I found the wet sponge to the face refreshing 

after the sticky whipped cream.

5.  Card ’n’ Go Seek

I saw this game at our grocery store in the Christmas aisle. I’m not sure why I picked it up but I’m glad I did.

This is so fun!!

You place one card less than people playing that have words of things you must collect to represent that word.

Things around the house.

Things like “sweet” or “transparent”.

We played at my parents’ house and my mom had a clear advantage (and intense competitive spirit).

Once an item is used, it can not be used again which increased the difficulty.   

6. Restoration Hardware’s No-Crack Hand Cream

Beth introduced me to this a few years ago. I’m a sucker for hand cream. And the fact that it’s called “No-Crack Hand Cream.”

We’ve shortened it to “Crack Cream” around here.

Of course we did.

Monte LOVES this stuff. It has no perfumey smell and it isn’t greasy. Monte’s hands bleed they get so chapped and, well, cracky.

Enter “No-Crack Hand Cream” to save the day!

I have no idea if Restoration Hardware sells this all year or just at Christmas. It’s $5 for this little jar but it lasts forever.

I hope you enjoy any or all of the above things as much as I have.

I’m off to clean out all the non-essential things from the master bedroom.

Or, in other words, 90% of its contents.

Happy New Year!!