Humbled. In a Grocery Store.

I like to think that I am not easily "thrown".

You know,

thrown into a tizzy,

a fit of rage,

a bad mood.

But in one weekend,

two visits to different grocery stores exposed just how easily I can trade 

my peace,

my mood,

my sanity.

And for very little.

It is not like I witnessed a crime

or a social injustice.

Nope.

I just got stuck behind a bunch of people in line for a wine tasting at Whole Foods when I was trying to get some soup for my sick Ellie.

I wanted a quick in and out.

But everyone was having a great festive time tasting wine

all pushing empty carts which took up the entire width of 
every aisle I attempted to walk down.

Fru.Strating.

I crashed into the back of one woman who decided to stop pushing her empty cart quite suddenly in the middle of an aisle.

I didn't even say sorry or oops.

I just sighed loudly and
kinda shoved myself off of her.

Not super proud of that.

But that wasn't my worst moment of the weekend.

(She said in a very shameful whisper with her head on the table.)

Sunday after church, Monte dropped me off in front of a grocery store so I could pick up some doughnuts for my daughter's bible study that meets before school on Monday mornings.

Let's just pick out a few important points:

•I had just been to church where I got to help a friend teach Sunday school to a group of lovely well-behaved children. We watched a video about Jesus in the garden in Gethsemane and, 

much to my delight, John Boy Walton was the voice of Mark.

I LOVED The Waltons.

•I was getting doughnuts for my daughter's BIBLE STUDY.

It was cheek-slapping cold and my new black wedge boots were really hurting my feet.

Just sayin'…

The doughnuts were pretty picked over but I started the business of loading up a box with what I could find in the case.

I felt the presence of someone THISCLOSE to me.

I glanced over to see a red headed version of a Duck Dynasty employee, complete with camo attire.

You most certainly don't see that in our neck of the woods like, EVER.

He kept moving in closer clearly trying to get to the same exact doughnuts that I was currently holding and planning to hold.

Like the Hoosier basketball player that I was raised to be,

I boxed out.

In other words, 

I squatted a teence,

stuck out my behind,

and blocked my possessions like the championship depended on it.

It was just like this except with
a large purse over my shoulder
and wearing painful black
wedge boots.

"Red"neck mister didn't enjoy this one bit.

Just then, Monte walked up.

I turned enough that my big Mary Poppinsesque purse 

tipped the box of doughnuts off the counter. 

All but two landed on the floor.

Ol' "red" had some snarky comments about that turn of events

but I held my post like it was my JOB.

Monte picked up the mess (and gave me the stink eye) 

while I kept loading up doughnuts and boxing out mister red beard.

I actually pictured myself giving him a swift right hook to the throat as I screamed,

"These doughnuts are for Jesus!"

It wasn't funny at the time

because I was shaking with rage.

Over doughnuts.

My red head bearded nemesis finally grumbled loudly and stomped off.

Although I wanted to celebrate my victory,

I was too busy trembling with ridiculous.

Monte was looking at me like,

"Really?? THAT guy?!"

Humbled. 

In a grocery store.

So I am not going to claim that I am not easily thrown anymore.


I read this morning in Romans 7:14-16 . I love how The Message phrases it:

^14-16 I can anticipate the response that is coming: “I know that all God’s commands are spiritual, but I’m not. Isn’t this also your experience?” Yes. I’m full of myself—after all, I’ve spent a long time in sin’s prison. What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.

Oh my, is God's command necessary.

Very, 

VERY

necessary.

Because grocery stores bring out my ugly.

And doughnuts make me downright violent.

Dog Tea

Every year I throw a tea for Carisa (and me)

to celebrate our birthdays.

Hey, it's MY party and I'll throw it if I want to.

I was drawing a big fat blank on ideas this year when my friend Julie came up with a dog theme.

DUH!

Carisa LOVES dogs.

Like it-is-her-passion-kinda-loves dogs.

She rescues them.

And they rescue her right back.

Oh my goodness, did anyone else hear music 

in the background and envision an entire

Hallmark movie??

I can just see her driving one of those cute mobile dog grooming trucks with her cartoon picture on the side saying something in one of those conversation bubbles like,

"Hey, y'all, let me cut your dog's hair."

Except WAY more clever than that.

But definitely keeping the y'all part.

Anyhoo…Julie nailed it.

A dog theme was born.

I went to Dollar Tree and bought a bunch of dog collars.

The idea was to add some "bling" and make them into bracelets.

Life happened so the bling adding didn't.

But we kept them in the favor bags anyway.

I made "doggy bags" out of lunch sacks. I stamped a dog paw on the front and used a stamp I had of a cute dog holding a heart onto card stock for tags.

I wrote the name of each person attending the tea in the heart.

Sumita made the cutest dog bone cookies with everyone's name on them to go in the bags.

I found this candy at World Market for the bags as well:

Julie wanted to make sure I kept the dog theme "classy"

but sometimes I just. can't. help. it.

Then there were the cupcakes.

Of course, I went to Chocolate Cafe.

They did the cupcakes for last year's 80s themed tea.
And McDaniel's thrift store themed party.
And the awesome breakfast tailgate.

I just told them the theme and to run with it.

I didn't even think to tell them, 

like Ron Burgundy from "The Anchorman", 

to "stay classy".

This is what I picked up the morning of the tea:

Seriously not my fault, Julie.

Carisa, late and fuzzy-headed from a cold

There she is…finally!

(she got lost driving to the tea house)

loved the cupcakes!

I probably took advantage of her cold
medicine stupor with these pictures.

Going in for the close-up in case there
is a debate on if she did, in fact, eat poop.

No debating it now.

So cute!

The grass detail was so awesome.

They crumbled chocolate cupcake bits to
look like dug up dirt around the bone.

I found the cutest napkins at World Market that completely summed up Carisa:

I put together a little "reading" about dogs and friends.

I passed out two cards to each person at the table to read out loud and show the corresponding picture.

We decided that Carisa is the moon howler and I am the one
most likely to chase my own tail.
Can I get an Amen?

We get our own room at the tea house. I think my "bra theme" a few years
ago pretty much required it. That and how loud we are. Lots of laughing.

Carol trying to sneak out. Ha!

Great group of Jesus loving women. You should have
heard Julie's prayer before lunch--it had its
own soundtrack.

Someone trying to sneak their icing fire
hydrant home with them.

It was such a great time and everyone is such good sports about all our

tomfoolery,

buffoonery, 

moon howling, 

own-tail chasing,

hijinks.

Shop Around

The other morning before school McDaniel was playing Captain and Tennille's "Shop Around".

Such a great song to get you going first thing in the morning.

That and coffee.

That song made me think of being young and what if I looked in the mirror as I was getting dressed and I was actually 8 years old again listening to the song on my blue jeans record player in my pink gingham wallpapered room?

Part of that was true--we were listening to it on my blue jeans record player that is now McDaniel's.

But I am very much NOT 8 years old.

I have the forehead wrinkles 

and gray hair to prove it.

But still, it got me thinking.

Would I even WANT to be 8 years old again??

Assuming the powers of Hollywood were possible like in the movie "Freaky Friday".

Maybe for like a second.

To have my parents and siblings under one roof again.

To hug my grandparents again.

To go through one more holiday season with the wide-eyed excitement and careless abandon of a kid who has to buy no one anything.

The innocence of no responsibility or cares 

other than brushing my teeth before bed,

 saying please and thank you

and dreaming of being an Olympic Ice Skater.

(I had the Dorothy Hamill hairdo already.)

But then there would be no Monte.

Or McDaniel.

Or Ellie.

Or Nigel.

But the cool thing is,

when I was jamming to Captain & Tennille's "Shop Around", 

when it was new and popular,

in my pink gingham wallpapered room,

God already imagined all of those people for me.

Monte,

McDaniel,

Ellie

and Nigel.

He already saw me then as I am right now.

He knew where every wrinkled line 

would appear on my forehead.

He knew not only the number of hairs on my head 

but exactly which ones would start going gray.

He knew that being an Olympic ice skater was not the true desire of my heart.

(or that the Dorothy Hamill hairdo was the most flattering for my face.)

Can I just take a second to ponder that?

If all that is hard to imagine:

He sees me right now as what 

I still am yet to become.

Doesn't that just blow your mind?

Puts a little spring in my step.

Makes me want to hop out of bed in the morning so I can get on with the business of becoming that person.

Makes me want to get on my knees and pray 

I don't blow God's plan for me 

with MY plan for me.

Has anyone else gotten a spiritual lesson 

from listening to Captain & Tennille's "Shop Around"?