Birthday Shoe Challenge

Five days before my birthday,

my husband managed to surprise me with a birthday challenge.

I usually don't readily know what I want for my birthday.

Which can be a bit of a problem for my family.

But not this year.

As I was packing away my summer clothes and bringing out the sweaters and boots

I realized that my "old friends"  shoes weren't happy to see me anymore.

Wait. 

It may have been the 

other way around.

I bagged up four bags of clothes and shoes and boots to donate.

Four. Bags.

And I do not have a walk-in closet.

I discovered a pin striped suit.

Pin striped.

I texted Carisa if she had heard any rumors 

of my secret life as a mobster.

Of course, she said yes.

So I put it in the Halloween costume box.

Because you never know…

It was right then and there that I decided that I wanted at least 4 or 5 pairs of shoes for my birthday.

I know, very Veruca Salt of me.

You know, the spoiled girl from Charlie
and the Chocolate Factory. The good
old one from the 70s, not the new
creepy Johnny Depp one.

Last week my girlfriend mentioned that it was Nordstrom's annual sale.

I am not a Nordstrom shopper.

I am a bargain shopper.

I shop at places where there are items of clothing 

with price tags that say 90 cents.

But for some reason, I decided that I might want to check out this sale at Nordstrom.

You know, the whole Veruca Salt thing.

As Carisa, Sumita and I were getting off the escalator and heading to the shoe department,

Carisa turned to me and said,

"Happy Birthday".

Which was odd since it wasn't my birthday. Yet.

In fact, HER birthday was just 2 days away.

So why was she wishing ME Happy Birthday?!

She and Sumita moved to reveal Monte sitting in a chair in the shoe department.

I instantly said something intelligent like,

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

So surprised I had to close my eyes while being
photographed.

Monte handed me these:

They were four envelopes with different amounts of cash in each so I could pick out my own

4 pairs of shoes!

Part of me felt WAY too overwhelmed with the sweetness to accept this gift.

Then the Veruca Salt part slapped that part down so I could shove the envelopes into my purse.

Monte explaining that he was giving me a week
to find 4 pairs of shoes within the price range
of each envelope.

Me probably asking something profound like,
"Say, what?!"

Sumita checking to see how much cash we have
to work with.

Monte had called and arranged all this with Sumita. She guided him away from the "shoe scavenger hunt" that he was cooking up.

Thank you for that, Sumita!

While I do love me a scavenger hunt, 

not when shoes are at stake.

I tried on a few pairs of boots but settled on one pair. 

These are Tom's. So someone else gets a pair of shoes
too. Win-win.

I quickly decided that I was going to take my time. I didn't want to rush this just because I had cash in hand. 

I wanted to stretch each buck as much as I could.

Over the next week, I tried on a TON of shoes. 

I took a lot of pictures getting opinions.

The verdict isn't in on all of them.

These didn't make it home with me.

Judging by my numb pinkie toes,
these might be too small.

LOVE these!!

Still deciding. That is two different shoes, by the way.

Carisa even surprised me with a pair for my birthday so it wouldn't go against my "shoe challenge cash".

They are orange--love them!

They match my living room!

This was the gift that kept on giving. Such a great idea!

Some Things to Share and Veteran's Day

Stuff I'd like to share this week:

An amazing story of compassion and reading the signs people don't obviously wear.

Along those same lines, Jennifer Dukes Lee wrote this wonderful post called "I Saw You, Jesus."

Katy In A Corner writes about an amazing lost letter written to her grandmother but delivered 69 years later. So worth watching the adorable video. 

Especially being that it is Veteran's Day.

Speaking of Veteran's Day,

I'd like to honor just a few of the vets I have been blessed to have in my life:

This is my cousin, Brett.

This is a plaque that should be on my grandfather's grave stone now.

Beloved Great Uncle Barney.

Great Uncle Bob. He married
my parents and Monte and I.
He is 90 years old.

My Great Grandfather, Gerald and Great Grandmother, Mabel
with their son Bob. What a treasure this picture is.

And of course, my dear grandfather, PaPa.

McDaniel, his namesake, wearing his
dog tag.

One of the neatest things that McDaniel got to do last year during her class trip to Washington D.C. was "clap in" the World War II vets as they entered the memorial through the organization Honor Flight.

She said it was quite emotional.

I am a bit of a mess just thinking about it.

Each kid in McDaniel's class also had to research and find a name on the Vietnam Memorial.

They scratched their name so it was 

etched in pencil onto their paper.

It reminds of a bible teacher who said to never skip over all those hard to pronounce names in the bible.

They are there for a reason and are meant 

to be remembered and said out loud.

Amen.

Thank you to all those who are or have served 

in our country's military.

Floor Seats

My oldest daughter, McDaniel,

had the absolute thrilling privilege 

of sitting in floor seats at the men's university 

exhibition basketball game Sunday afternoon.

Floor seats.

Like Jack Nicholson or Spike Lee.

I have never sat in floor seats EVER.

But I can't complain,
I had killer seats at a football game 
not too long ago.

This was our view. 

A friend invited McDaniel and a few other girls,

courtesy of her friend's father's work.

I feel sorry for whoever had to sit behind McDaniel's
enormous hair bun. Oh wait, no I don't, they were
still in fantastic seats.

McDaniel's feet and view.

This ref was so close he could've heard the girls
whispering.

McDaniel just loved the seriousness and intensity
this guy brought to his job

If you check out the screen, you can see all the girls by the referee.

We later saw a passing glance of them on the local news.

Because, well, they were right there

in the floor seats,

where all the action was.

McDaniel was just so excited.

She said she became aware that whatever she hollered out

could be heard by the players.

Amazing, thought, huh?

Well, I guess Spike Lee always knew that

and took considerable advantage of it.

Kinda changes what you'd holler out, wouldn't it?

Would make you stop and gather your thoughts a bit more, wouldn't it?

Again, apparently not if you are Spike Lee.

McDaniel told us an elderly couple sat by her READING BOOKS.

[Just pause and let that sink in for a second.]

Yes, this couple READ while they sat in the most coveted floor seats of a college basketball game.

The ENTIRE time.

See the readers?

The lady read "iPhone for Dummies".

With an iPhone sitting in her lap the entire time.

I better not get that book as a "gift" anytime soon.
Ahem.

Then they got up and left in the middle of the game seemingly to never have paid attention

for even a minute.

How baffling.

Why would you spend the money to sit in or even receive as a gift,

floor seats,

if you never bothered to pay attention to

or even look up

at the game going on 

RIGHT. 

IN. 

FRONT. 

OF. 

YOU?!

Makes me wonder if God ever thinks that of us.

Wonders why we have our nose buried in the world

when He has
graciously, 
mercifully, 
blessed us with the 

BEST SEATS IN THE HOUSE.

The action is right there before us.

He wants us to be in awe of Him.

Amazed by His love.

Full of wonder at His creation.

He wants us to praise Him.

(And yes, people are listening when we do it.)

But overall,

He just doesn't want us to miss it.

"Many, Lord my God,
    are the wonders you have done,
    the things you planned for us.
None can compare with you;
    were I to speak and tell of your deeds,
    they would be too many to declare."

Psalm 40:5

"In the council of the holy ones God is greatly feared; he is more awesome than all who surround him. O LORD God Almighty, who is like you? You are mighty, O LORD, and your faithfulness surrounds you."

Psalm 89:7-8

Fears and Phobias

Since I just aired out Monte's sensitive gag reflex issues involving,

among many other things,

pumpkin guts,

it seems only fair that I would tell on myself,

to make it all fair and tidy,

in this thing we call marriage.

Plus, Sophie over at BooMama wrote about the subject of phobias in her blog a few days ago and it was just fascinating and funny.

She has a fear of clusters of circles

and that phobia has an actual name

that doesn't involve the word crazy.

Who knew?

If I have made mention of this topic before

and I am too lazy to research if indeed I have,

forgive me.

My main phobia is of heights. 

I do not like being close to an edge of anything high up. I can look out onto a pretty horizon, like the view from the top of the Peabody Hotel in Memphis.

But I couldn't go to the edge and look straight down.

I don't even like it when I see a straight down view in the movies.

It makes my hands sweaty.

I went all the way to Paris and would not go up into the Eiffel Tower.

When we drove out west on those little tiny narrow curvy roads all up in the Tetons and Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks, with cliffs on both sides of the road,

I was all kinds of phobia-induced 

hand sweats, 

screams, 

closed eyes 

and major root beer cravings.

When I was in college, my brother and I went on a road trip with my grandparents that involved a stop at Niagara Falls.

We walked on some bridge over part of the falls that had holes all in it so you could feel the mist of the falls and see the water below.

Sophie would've had trouble with the circle clusters.

I had trouble with the straight down view.

I fell to my knees and started crawling towards…somewhere.

My grandfather,

the sweet, compassionate man that he always was,

tried to reason with me to get up.

But that is the whole thing about a phobia, 

there is no reasoning with it.

My grandfather just slowly walked beside his grown granddaughter as she very shakily crawled her way off the bridge.

Not my finest hour.

Now, I am not sure this is a legitimate phobia or just a fear, 

but hillbillies make me uncomfortable.

(No, not you, Carisa.)

Let me clarify:  rednecks and hillbillies are different.

At least in my book.

(There is no real book, but you know what I mean.)

No, I mean like that Ernest T. character in "The Andy Griffith Show". 

When he'd throw bricks at people's windows and holler out, 

"It's me, it's me, it's Ernest T," 

and he'd laugh all maniacally.

Then he kidnapped the school teacher to force her to marry him 

and then his "people" would play the jug and washboard as musical instruments 

to try to get Sheriff Andy on good graces again.

This is worse than a scary clown.
WAY worse.

My hands are starting to sweat.

Then there is a whole different level of fear when you talk about Jodie Foster's character in the movie, "Nell" where she literally lived in the hills and was so isolated she had her own language 

and oh my, my heart is beating fast.

I think it is the complete isolation of it that I fear.

That and the thought that a hillbilly will come down out of the hills 

and kidnap me or someone I love.

So there's that.

And now Monte and his 

sensitive gag reflex 

and fear of clowns 

and certain dolls, 

is sounding pretty normal to me.

I need to lie down.