Shadows and Dust

We came, we saw, and I nearly froze

2012-01-11T22:06:00.012-06:00

What we did from December 25th - January 9th.

Drove to Jasper, drove to Vermont, drove to Maine, drove to Ohio, drove back to Jasper, drove to Mobile. Collapsed.

Yes, it was a mad, mad 15 days.

As my little sister is holding the Vermont pictures hostage in her camera and hasn't emailed them to me, I will talk of Maine.

Jim's parents are in the process of building a large, gray, granite-countered, central-vacuumed, heated floor in the master bath, retirement home on the beautiful coast of Maine. This was our first time to visit them since they moved up there. Seventeen hundred miles up there. Good gravy. I can't believe we drove that! And please understand that I use the term "we" very loosely. I drove a possible total of 6 hours on this entire trip. My husband is insanely talented at driving for long periods of time. For instance: Driving from Jasper, AL to Rutland, VT. He drove from 0800 - 1700. I drove from 1701- 2140. He then drove from 2141 - 0430. At this point, he told me he was getting sleepy (WHAT?! What's with THAT?!) and I said I would drive. So I did. For one hour. And then I was sleepy. So I pulled over at a rest stop and we rested.

Wow. Did I ever drift from my in-laws retirement home! So, yes. Maine.

Lobster for our very first dinner. Appropriate, no? This was only the second time in my life I have eaten a lobster and it was just as enjoyable as the first. Except this time, I didn't get sick afterwards! Hooray for no sick!! On a sidenote - You know in cartoons, or advertisements, or stories, or in Shrek, where they serve their guests an entire lobster? And it's always a fancy dinner with fancy clothes and delicate dishes? Well, I am here to tell you that that is poppycock! A lobster in its shell is one of the hardest food sources I have ever had to get into! Granted, this is America, where we complain when the orange peel doesn't come off easily.... moving on. Most unladylike, eating a lobster. You WRENCH off each leg and then suck (yes, suck) the meat out of each one. You then break the head from the body, but only after cracking the shell open with a special tool placed by your plate. At this point, lobster juice is running down both arms. Perspiration is beading on your forehead. Your lips are tight with concentration.

"Don't break the sac of fluid in its head," Meryl says. "It's poisonous and will kill you."

Now, my lips are even tighter. A cold sweat breaks out. If I die in Maine, how will they bury me when the ground is frozen solid?

Now you have to break the tail off of the body. The shell is hard with sharp points. Your arms are sticky and your hands are slippery. The shell cracker is metal and hard to hold on to. But the tail is the largest piece of meat and worthing fighting for! As you finally sink your teeth into it, you marvel at the lobster's ability to be so ornery... even though it's dead.

Jim had received the Seafarers Extension for Settlers of Catan for Christmas. It takes quite a while to set up for those of you who have never played with the Seafarers Extension. For those of you who have never played Settlers of Catan at all, well... you are invited to our home.

We played it once and then we played it once again. Two times we played.

Pictionary and then Taboo. Cribbage twice, Sequence (4 times), and Pinochle (x2). Girls against boys in every game. Okay, okay... I'll say it: the boys one every game EXCEPT for one game of pinochle. On our final night, the boys beat us in back-to-back games of Cribbage. As Jim and I retired for bed, I was quiet. He asked if I was okay. I said, "I'm not going to lie. I'm getting tired of losing games." I did not play on the checkerboard Jim made them for Christmas, cool though it was.

No snow, despite single digits at night. The outdoors were still enjoyed as we went for some long, cold, wonderful walks along the wild, rocky Maine coasts.

While walking through the woods up there, it is not uncommon to find old, moss-covered property lines in the form of stone walls.

I wore two layers on my legs, five layers on my torso and a toboggan, my sweatshirt hood, and my coat hood. And gloves. We would march along and my in-laws would say, "The sun feels so good!" and I wouldn't be able to say anything. You see, my nose had frozen and fallen off my face and I was too busy looking for it. On two of the walks, we would be able to walk out to islands because the tide was out.

One day was particularly cold. We emerged from the cover of the woods and took a step out behind the coastal boulders. The force of the wind sent windy knives slicing through my clothes. My eyes watered and I had to make the decision to breathe. Obviously, I did. But I would have really liked a warmer source of oxygen.

There were icicles everywhere. Some hung off of cliffs and others came out of the mud.

Like these.

The cove was frozen over.

Icicles and a frozen cove resulted in this being one of my favorite things to do:

No, not check facebook. Stay inside by the fire.

It was 4 and a half wonderful, fun, relaxing days spend with our parents.

And Seebar.

And Galley Cat.

Merry Christmas!.... a little late

2012-01-02T15:15:00.006-06:00

I will be posting a little of our trip at a time. So... if you are impatient and want to hear about our entire trip all at once, I would advise you to come back in a few weeks. Not that I'm trying to say that our vacations are worthy of impatience.... anyway.

Part one - Christmas Day at the Porter Quarters

Two things that were rather consuming this year: 1 - My Mom's ipad and the games that were on it and 2 - the freakishly large tv where one could play the playstation.

The consumption is evidenced by this picture.

And this one.

Oh.... and this one. And Alisa and Anna are rocking their haircuts. I'm kind of jealous.

Two things that were different this year: 1 - We had a fire crackling in the living room (despite Alisa's protests that it was redneck to let Youtube provide it) and 2 - We made a mess with the wrapping paper (my Dad normally doesn't like the paper to be left all in the floor during the unwrapping process).

Both are evidenced by this picture.

Finn made an appearance and Aunt Ronda gave her some Christmas bling. Doesn't she looked ecstatic?

My Mom gave me my great great grandfather's pocket watch for Christmas!

The next morning, Asa, Anna, Jim and myself all rose and hit the road for Vermont....and I will tell you about that later.

P.S. I was just kidding about the watch being from my great great grandfather. It was just my great grandfather.

P.P.S. Just kidding again. It was from the mall.

Gleaming heads and full bellies

2011-12-10T20:41:00.010-06:00

Yikes. It's almost Christmas. And I'm just now putting up my Thanksgiving pictures!

Thanksgiving - James worked and I hung out with him pretty much all day on the base. There was a James Bond marathon on tv. I had only seen one James Bond movie once. At the end of the day I had seen three James Bond movies once. And MY James had a shaved head.

The end.

Juuuuust kidding. We drove up to Jasper the day after. A late afternoon visit with Nanny (Jim's grandmother) was pleasant. Her 30 year old refrigerator (it was a mustard yellow color...she called it "Oldie Goldie") had decided to bite the dust two days before and she was getting a new one that evening. It was a little on the humorous side watching her be sad about losing her old fridge. Humorous because I know I'll be exactly like that one day. I get so attached to things. Try as I might, I can't quite grasp my Dad's "well it's all gonna burn up one day" attitude. Of course, my Mom blames that attitude for several sentimental items she cannot find. Nanny told us how it had stopped working.... but the next morning she came into the kitchen to hear the ice maker kick-in. As the fridge deliverers wheeled it out, she told them of its desperate attempts to keep working and asked tentatively if maybe they would work on it and find someone who could use it. They seemed to be very caught up in getting it out the door and did not answer. I felt for her. In my mind, inanimate objects have feelings. They are our friends. I used to not be able to throw away a milk jug without attaching its lid to it first. After all, they had been together for so long, why tear them apart now?

Maybe this is why I love Toy Story so much. Hmm.

We arrived at the Porter household at dark to find the entire family (aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmother, parents, brothers, and sisters) watching Captain America on my parents new, flat-screen, 48" (or was it 52? regardless.... huge) tv! Did I mention they also got cable? I nearly fell over! Never did I ever think my childhood home would have more than the two local channels! As Alisa lamented, "Everything we stood for is being torn away!" As we hugged and hugged again, I noticed even the furniture had been rearranged for the presence of that tv. "Where will you put the Christmas tree?" I asked. Ryan laughed, "Oh, we're just going to put all our presents under the tv. And put the angel topper on top of it!" Dad rolled his eyes, "Alright! Alright! You've made your point."

For those of you who did not know, my amazing mother started chemo about nine weeks ago. She has been so strong throughout the whole ordeal and clings to God daily. My father, who openly confessed to me that the role of an optimist was not normal for him when this started, is obviously a huge encouragement to her. I'm proud of them both. I don't have room to write about all of my brothers doings. But Anna will get a blog high-five...

Little sister... you have been awesome. Mom brags about how you are cooking and cleaning like a champ. Alisa talks about how much you've grown up throughout this past year. I am proud of you.

Anyway, I told you that to explain this picture:

Yes. There were many shaved male heads in honor of Mom's own. It was pretty impressive. And sweet. And Ryan isn't really that short.

There were tractors to drive,

wagons to ride,

a football game to watch (even if it's through the window),

an off-key birthday song to sing, (my Dad came very very close to dropping the cake right after I stopped videoing),

and much

much food to be eaten.

Mom had the fantastic idea of eating our Thanksgiving feast (no rare roast beast. sorry.) in our Christmas tree barn. So, with a little extra effort, our tummies were fed in a raw-lumbered, tin-roofed, twinkled-lighted, wood-stove heated barn.

I love my family.

TWO WINS!!

2011-11-14T13:36:00.011-06:00

Last weekend, Alisa and Jeff came down to see us. We were excited. And so were they.

This is Alisa checking to make sure Jeff isn't squinting in the photo.

Some of the things we did:

Saturday am- we got up early and ate oatmeal. Head towards the airport. It was colder than I had planned on it being and I made sure everyone knew I was freaking freezing. But it was a beautiful day to go flying.

Thanks to gracious friends, we all had headsets.

Mr. Pilot headed us towards Dauphin Island shortly after take off and landed us nicely.

A walk from the airport to the ferry is 3.4 miles. Off we go. It's still cold. I'm still cold. Is anyone else cold? Why is it so cold?!

This dog had his own balcony.

We walked and talked and laughed and I froze. We arrived at the ferry just in time to jump on for a cold ride across the bay to Fort Morgan. On the way, my hair did what Beast's hair did when he became a man.

Alisa and I zipped up our jackets as far as they could be zipped, ducked into our hoodies, shoved our hands in our pockets and hunched down behind our husbands. None of the car-riding ferry goers offered us a seat inside their vehicles. They all sat, somber faced, and watched us shiver. We probably were entertaining. Alisa and I sat down to get out of some of the wind. But then....

we got hit by a wave. It came up through the deck drains and we all got pretty durn wet. Alisa and I shrieked, the boys yelped.... and then we all laughed at each other's soggy bottoms. Still no offers from the now-smiling car sitters.

I think Fort Morgan would be a gorgeous place for a wedding.

Because our bottoms were dry now and the sun was warmer the ride back was lovely. We saw a few dolphins surface and watched each others faces turn pink.

Home again home again jiggety jog!

Saturday evening - Constantine's for supper!

Saturday evening still - Alabama got a field goal. LSU got a field goal. Alabama got a field goal. LSU got a field goal.

Sunday afternoon - Settlers of Catan. If you haven't played this game, just come to our house. Jeff had not played it... so we played twice. And I won. Twice. Both times. Excuse me while I go shout it from the rooftop.

Settlers of Catan is like Risk. Only, I've never played Risk. I've never wanted to ever since my parents told me they played it when they had only been married a few weeks and it was the closest to divorce they ever came. Oh yeah, sign me up to play that! But it is similar in the "get land and resources" idea. You claim land, you earn resources (wood, ore, sheep, wheat and brick), you buy roads, and settlements and eventually cities.

Alisa and Jim should not play this game together. They are rather cutthroatish about it. And when they realize the other one is being a cutthroat as well, it just makes them be even more of a cutthroat. We laugh throughout the game, but sometimes I wonder what my husband's or my sister's blood pressure might be at any given moment.

But who cares? I won!

Twice!

11/12/11

2011-11-12T21:17:00.002-06:00

Well... all year long I planned on blogging on 11/11/11. I was going to tell you to make a huge, ginormous wish.

And I didn't blog.

So, no wish for you!

Ryan visited us

2011-11-09T09:56:00.005-06:00

This is my brother, Ryan. He got a job in Uvalde, Texas. It started last week and on his way there, he came to see us first. It was sweet to see him. Of course, I was working and, of course, worked one of the longest days yet (because my sweet little two year old baby, who had been precious all day long, decided to vomit up her food, her medicine, her nasogastric tube, and I'm pretty sure her shoes, right at shift change) and Jim was flying late that night. So, Ryan got to face the trick-or-treaters alone. Haha!

Let me explain something: Neither Ryan nor I have ever grown up in a house that invited these little scavengers. We lived waaaay out in the country, down long, unlit driveways. If adults ever released their children down long, dark driveways, they don't anymore. They release them on subdivisions. Enter the Freeman household. Hundreds and hundreds of children descend upon our neighborhood dressed as Buzz Lightyear, witches, princesses, ninjas, lions, tigers, and bears. They walk or are driven around in golf carts or pulled on trailers pulled by four wheelers.

Jim and I knew we wouldn't be there so we had no candy. We decided to let Ryan fend for himself. (muahahaha!)

He did.

I came home to this:

Ryan had driven very slowly out of our neighborhood to a nearby Dollar General and came back with candy. Rummaging through the house he found two paper bags. In one, he put all of the candy and wrote on it: "Lots of tootsie rolls, some starbursts, barely any jolly ranchers." The other bag he had torn up and placed signs on the inside of our windows. They read, "Don't knock!" "We're tired!" "Get some candy!" "Nice costume!" I'm sure all of the adults thought we were incredibly polite. I guess I deserved that since I hung Ryan out to dry. The sign beside the bag read, "Don't be a pig unless you become one" then advised the candy-takers to read some Proverbs.

After letting me in, he looked in the bag and said, "Whoa! It worked! Nobody has knocked and half the candy is gone!" Then he gave me a big bear hug. It was good to see him.

Regarding trick-or-treaters.... really, I don't hate them. I am overwhelmed by them and in all seriousness try to avoid being at my house on Halloween night. But what I cannot stand is older kids who do it. If you are an older kid who goes trick-or-treating, I will still be your friend. But I have some advice:

Grow the heck up. If you want to dress up and take your younger brothers and sisters or cousins or neighbors trick-or-treating, be my guest. But don't be standing there with a plastic bag asking for your own candy. It's a tradition for children. And if you are responsible enough to own an iPhone and to trick-or-treat without adult supervision... you are too old.

Jim's coworker's story -

He opened his door to find a group of teenagers standing there with little plastic pumpkins. They didn't even have on costumes.

Coworker - "Oh, how cool! You're out getting candy because your little brother or sister were too sick to come out tonight!"

Kid - "What are you talkin' about, man?"

Coworker - "What I'm talkin' about is that you're too old for this crap. Now get out of here!"

Sunday afternoon labor

2011-10-30T20:48:00.003-05:00

It's so nice to have friends who live in the country who have things like pecan trees. Do you say pee'-kan or pi-kahn'? Don't worry, I won't make fun of you either way. I'll just think you're silly if you say pee'-kan.

becoming one

2011-10-23T19:37:00.003-05:00

Jim and I just had the same idea....

Me - "Well, great minds DO think alike!"

Jim - "And we do too!"

I guess I could call him a name but he insulted himself, too.

First Any Verse Harry

2011-10-11T19:16:00.014-05:00

My goodness. A year ago, this past Sunday, I vowed that only death would part me from James. The first year made a whooshing sound as it passed by me. I cannot believe I have been a wife through all four seasons. The delight of this year is for a writer more capable than I and I will leave it at that.

In honor of the anniversary, Jim and I went to The Grand Hotel in Fairhope. Initially, I wanted to get a little further away from home. But then I realized that if Alabama has a place that is as wonderful as this place is supposed to be, and that we may no longer be in Alabama next summer, we should go for it. So we did. And we are glad.

Driving through Fairhope, we discovered a sidewalk arts and crafts show. So we stopped, strolled, and discovered everything was too expensive. I had a close encounter with a Marilyn Monroe moment, thanks to the wind making friends with my skirt, and we found this polite trash receptacle, contradicting everything your mothers have ever told you.

Onto the Grand, where we were greeted at the gate by a smiling older gentleman named Jim. He learned it was our first anniversary and SANG us a verse from a love song of his generation. His voice was shaky on the lower notes, but strong and true for the majority. It was a pleasant beginning.

This was our room. Isn't it beautiful? And spacious? And soothing?

This is our view. The wind was just enough to make the boats creak on their moorings. Don't you love coastal sounds?

At the recommendation of a friend, we went to the Fly Creek Cafe. It was attached to a marina, with beat-up wood flooring and open ceilings where the naked lightbulbs hung. The fans were whirring and the wind was sashaying through the open windows. We were asked if we wanted to eat indoors or out and Jim said out. We were told it would be an extra $10 per person because of the live band. So, Jim said in. She walked us over to one of the open windows that was right next to the band area. I could have shot a spitball and hit the lead guitarist. "This is great," said Jim, as we munched away. "We don't have to clap if we don't want to!" He wore one of his hats that he got on our Chicago trip. This was two seconds after his "I'm so cool" face. It had become his "I wish you were in this picture with me because it's getting awkward" face. It's also his "I don't look old enough to even be married" face.

The sunset was stupendous out our open window and we weren't charged $20 extra to see it.

We went back to the hotel and walked the perimeter. And the diameter and the radius. But NOT the whole area. It is covered with huge oak trees dripping with Spanish Moss, swings everywhere, and hammocks tucked under the great branches. See the hammock?

There was a huge pool with waterfalls and a slide. The sign read, "No holding breath games." There was also an adult pool with a hot tub. The sign read that no one under 21 years of age was aloud. Personally, I thought it was a nice touch. I love kids and don't mind sharing a pool with them, but some people want to sunbathe without children. So, a pool for both types of people. This is the adult pool. It sounds rather scandalous.

The next morning, we got up early and went outside for reading, coffee and watching the sky get brighter and brighter.

Oh, the weather was absolutely perfect!! We had brought our bikes so we biked to Fairhope. The diner was closed.... so we walked around until we found another one. By now, it was about 10:30. Jim ordered the Julwin Sampler which consisted of, Ahem: 2 Eggs cooked the way you want them, sausage, bacon, AND ham, grits or hashbrowns, toast or biscuit, and two pancakes. He ate all of it.

Back to the hotel, where I discovered that Napoleon Bonaparte had come into our room and arranged our robes.

The nerve of that guy.

Then to the adult pool and then... SAILING! The Grand has kayaks and Hobie Cats available for guests. Look up Hobie Cats. They are a blast! All Jim had to do was say he knew how to sail, sign a waiver, and we were allowed to take it out by ourselves! He told me not to take the camera and he was right. We were soaked!

Back to Fairhope for sushi at Master Joe's. My first experience with sushi as a full meal. It was very good. Chopsticks are hard. Then I was a baby and allowed my husband's UNselfishness to get on my nerves. I nearly ruined the evening. Heaven will be wonderful, won't it? No sin. I cannot even imagine the freedom of that.

For our last morning we got up and ate breakfast there, at the Grand, at the recommendation of another friend. To quote her, "It's expensive, but it's worth it." List anything you can think of for breakfast and it was there on the buffet. Grits, eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage gravy, biscuits, three different types of toast, eight kinds of fruits, yogurt honey, four different types of jellies, conecuh sausage, bacon, ham, personalized omelets, cheese danish, cereal, oatmeal, carrot muffins, pineapple cake, and the list continues. The row of polished silver domes gleamed and we did our best to give them credit over a crosssword puzzle.

The watermelons were carved like this. Yikes, no?

It was such a precious weekend. And I still can't believe it has already been a year.

I must have blinked

2011-10-01T22:14:00.004-05:00

Today I turned twenty-six.

Twenty-six? Wow.

And it was a wonderful day. The weather was truly Octoberish, thank you God! And Jim spoiled me. Breakfast, bike trails, lunch outside, hammock time, chocolate fudge pie with homemade ice cream, Pride and Prejudice and a smashing hat. I love him.

My Dad on the phone: "Hey! Happy birthday! ... ... Well, I got that out of the way, now what do we talk about?"

My mom's card was true to form - sweet enough to make me tear up with an "adjustment" of the card's cover character's outfit (to be more modest).

To my in-law parents, I did not wear a bucket on my head. Sorry. :)

big and little kids

2011-09-23T16:23:00.004-05:00

Ever since I started working on a pediatric unit people keep asking me, "Do you like taking care of all those babies?" Which I do! I totally do! But, I keep explaining to them that the pediatric unit takes children all the way up to eighteen years. We also take care of the "just a few dayers" too. The NICU is for the baby babies. But if a baby goes home from the NICU and has to come back one day later, they come back to the PICU. Going home is the dividing line.

Anyway, my point is we have big and little kids.

Yesterday, I was taking care of an 18 day old preemie. My coworker was taking care of a 13 year old who produces massive poops. Yes, I'm blogging about poop. I'm a nurse and it's a part of my job description, so, I'm sorry if it bothers you. Seth walked over to weigh the diaper he had just changed. He looked at the number and called over to me, "I think he just pooped out something the size of your little guy!"

Needless to say, yes, I like taking care of the little babies. It's just one small wipe for mankind.

An auspicious wedding

2011-09-07T11:06:00.008-05:00

Okay, I tried to start this blog as if it hasn't been seven weeks since my last post. I couldn't do it. So, I am very sorry I haven't touched this in so long. Our lives haven't been boring, we've just been taking internet hiatuses. I don't even know if that's how you spell that.

So....moving on.

Labor Day weekend, Jim and I took a flying (double meaning - it was fast and we took a plane) trip to Chicago for Victor and Sneha's wedding. Sneha's family is from India and Victor had told us that the entire country was coming for the event. The church wedding was Friday night and the Indian wedding was Saturday afternoon.

We arrived Friday afternoon and took a cab to the Sheraton. Our friend and neighbor, Nate, was with us. It was 18.6 miles from the O'Hare airport to the Sheraton Hotel in downtown Chicago. That cab ride took us a hour and 50 minutes. We were crammed into the the backseat with the air conditioning barely making it through the open pane of the dividing glass panel. Bumper to bumper traffic is an understatement. I closed my eyes and pretended I was somewhere else. Jim read every billboard, bumper sticker and graffiti signage he could clamp his eyes on. Nate tried to read. It was miserable. And then it cost us fifty dollars.

After inhaling a burger and fries, we dashed up to our rooms to get ready. Well, I was dashing, as I need more time. Jim flopped onto the bed.

A bus was provided for those of us who were at the hotel. The bus driver nearly drove into the walkway of the church. But, thanks to good brakes (which resulted in a couple of face plants into the seats in front of us) he managed to avoid that mark on his driving record. The wedding was in a beautiful Lutheran church, with wooden beams and glass walls. It was lovely.

Saturday am - Jim, to my utter delight, mentioned that he would like to wear a hat to the wedding. I didn't know he liked hats!! This also meant we had to go shopping, which is another reason to be delighted!! So, off we went, walking through downtown Chicago. We walked through Millenium Park and saw an outside yoga session. Did I mention I forgot my camera? Hundreds of people laying in a field doing yoga! We walked to Dunkin' Donuts (after the taxi price, we weren't feeling like spending money) and watched the public go by. Three things I remember:
1) A woman walked by with high narrow wedged heels. Heels that catch sidewalk cracks very easily and often. Right in front of Dunkin' Donuts. She managed not to fall by waving her arms wildly in the air. She then passed on out of sight. Seven minutes later, she was on the other side of the street, shopping bag in hand. She stopped on the corner and pulled out her new pair of flip-flops. She yanked off her wedges and dropped them into the garbage can. With her new flip flops, she walked off, ready for the day.
2) A woman carrying a baby. And also carrying her baby stroller.
3) How utterly wonderful it was to walk around with my husband, knowing he was enjoying it as much as I was. We joked and talked and made decisions, and laughed some more. Delightful.

Saturday pm. I set a record for getting ready for a wedding. I mean, shower, hair, makeup, dressing.... I told Jim that the next time I made us late to remember this.

This was our schedule-

3:30-4:30 - Baraat
4:30-6:00 Wedding Ceremony
6:00-7:30 Cocktail Reception
7:30-12:00 Dinner and Dance
12:01 - Pass Out in My Bed

The baraat is the bridegroom's wedding procession before the ceremony. There was a drummer there, drumming along to loud, pulsing Indian music. There were rented turbans which all of the guys put on. So, I wore my husband's new hat as the bedazzled turban became his headgear. Victor walked down a red carpet and mounted a small set of stairs as a decked out horse was walked up to him. Mind you, it took about a half hour to get to this point. With continuous dancing. He climbed on and we danced in front of the horse in front of the Sheraton. We followed the drummer into the hotel, up the escalator and into the foyer of the ballroom, still dancing. Some of the Indian dance moves we learned looked like twisting in lightbulbs with both hands while jumping on one foot. Or, you can twirl pasta out of your hand into the air. We learned these... from YouTube of course! The horse stayed outside. Dance and dance and clap and clap. Again. And again.

Wedding ceremony - The program, thankfully, fully explained what each section meant. The man officiating it, though he would chant in the Sanskrit language, would stop and explain everything in English as well. With his accent, he was hilarious. Italics are the program. Quotations are the... officiate.

"Welcome to the auspicious Marriage Ceremony of Sneha and Victor!" Auspicious? Okaaay?

Vadhu Aagman (Arrival of the Bride) - The bride and groom stand facing each other separated by the cloth screen, symbolizing their separate identies. "Most of the time, the groom hasn't seen the bride. We pretend that Victor hasn't seen the Sneha. He doesn't know what's behind door three!" .... later, while struggling to hold up the cloth screen and prevent Victor from looking at Sneha, "You are too tall! This is too short!.... No! No! Don't look!"

During one point, the wrong music was clicked on and for a few seconds we had the crazy bollywood music from the baraat. When it was quickly shut down the little man on the stage said, "Now, back to our melodious ceremony."

Vivah Hom - Victor was responsible for lighting a fire. "You remember the song, 'C'mon Baby Light My Fire?' So, he will light her fire. I mean! He will light THE fire!"

Often in the middle of his chants he would say something in English. It would sound like this: "Amangalsutraaaaaa bandhannnn, anandasukhasaptapadeeeee.... oooh, excuse me for spitting!.... Kaan Pline n annngiiiii Parikramasaptapadiiii...... no, no you have to do the water first ......Prajapalannnn rituuuuuaaaaaacharannnnn.... wipes! We need some wipes!......Swaaagattganeshpujjuaaaaa kanyadaaaaaan!"

But the highlight? They served ice cream in the middle of the ceremony! I mean, if you're going to have a hour and a half ceremony you probably should, but seriously? I saw the family on the front row being served something and I just assumed it was a part of the ceremony... but then little glass bowls of a rasberry sorbet with mango candy was passed down. And that was what everybody talked about! It was hilarious. During cocktail hour the start-up conversations pretty much went like this - "Wow. That was really long!" "Yeah, but the ice cream made it worth it!"

"So, what did you think?" " I think I'm going to serve ice cream at my wedding!"

"You know what I was wondering?" What?" "How did the tradition of serving ice cream during the ceremony NOT get passed down into American culture?"

It was fun. It was also convenient to be only an elevator ride away from your room. Go upstairs, rest for a few minutes, then go back downstairs. We ate, drank, danced and were merry. And as my schedule said, we collapsed into bed at midnight.

The next morning, we walked 20 minutes to the train, paid $2.25, and rode 45 minutes to the airport. Lesson learned.

sombrero

2011-07-26T20:23:00.029-05:00

I've been in this house for nine months. The whole time I've been promising myself that I would eventually clean out that bedroom. When wifehood hit, this house saw a flurry of unpacking, rearranging, softening, coloring, and organizing (well, I thought I was organizing... turns out I was just losing everything: Two months after decluttering and Jim goes, "Have you seen the little black cord that I use to keep in the corner? In the pile of cords?" Oopsie. Oh...yeah. The cord. I put it in a much more organized place. I just can't remember where that place is at the moment.). At least, most of the house. One room was so chaotic I just couldn't bring myself to fix it. In fact, I added to its turmoil by throwing some of my own stuff in there. I'd do it later, I said. For now... just don't open that door!

Well, we have company coming this weekend and we're going to need it. Yesterday we pushed open the door and groaned.

Now granted, this picture was taken after some of the
boxes had already vomited their contents onto the floor.

My stuff had already been sorted through, thrown out and repacked. So... it was all HIS. Oh, the stuff we found! Report cards from first grade up, newspaper clippings listing his name on the honor roll from first grade up, tapes with songs he had recorded from the radio (I just dated my generation), computer games, and several Lego models, complete with all parts. There was a remote control car, a rocket, and multiple baseballs, tennis balls, a go-cart helmet, a baseball helmet, a motorcycle helmet and a pilot's helmet. A bag full of ski gear and a bag filled with boy scout uniforms. Photo albums by the droves, math medals, a box full of random shoes, walkie talkies that still worked, a walkman, a discman, and a tie with soccer balls on it. A wind-up monkey. I am not even kidding. Welcome home banners. Congratulation banners. High school graduation cards and programs. Pens, pencils, erasers, crayons, and rubber bands by the pound. Homework and floppy discs (which we threw away, just so you know). I could continue, but I'll stop. Oh, wait. The plastic eagle Auburn hat and the sombrero. How could I forget those?

For your enjoyment, here is a picture of Jim wearing the sombrero AND the eagle headgear, with his highly stylish Christmas sweatshirt (those are tigers wearing Santa hats, folks), clutching his remote control convertible and wearing a pair of random shoes. Beside him is his wife with an Airman hat, ski goggles, and math medals (three medals, mind you! Don't challenge her... I mean, her husband's number skills) around her neck. She is ready for anything in her military boots. Together they have good communication, thanks to those walkie talkies.

But probably the most enjoyable moments were finding some of Jim's book reports from elementary school. I think the word limit for them was twenty. I think he should ditch flying an airplane and become a writer.... but I might be a little biased.

1) "Woof the Seeing Eye Dog" by Denae Dobson - Woof had been doing things he wasn't supposed to. Woof led a blind lady whose dog was sick. It taught Woof a lesson not to be bad.

I'm confused. Did he lead her in front of a car?

2) "The Fire Engine Book" by Jesse Younger - This book is about a fire engine. There was a fire. They got the fire out.

The end. Sheesh. Who writes these dumb books?

3) "Truck" by Donald Crews - This book is about trucks.

Little Jimmy had mastered the art of stating the obvious. He was trying to help his teacher at least notice the obvious.

4) "The Never Sink Nine Slugger Mike" by Gibbs Davis - This book was about baseball. It was about two boys. They were friends. Their names were Mike and Walter. They thought they weren't friends. But at the end they were friends.

Phew! I'm glad that's settled!

5) "Lions and Tigers" by Elizabeth Kaufman - This books is about tigers and lions. It told how heavy they are. They like to play. Lions like to climb and tigers like to swim.

Jim - Pretty clever, huh? Switching it from "lions and tigers" to "tigers and lions."

6) "How Honu the Turtle Got His Shell" by Casey A. McGuire-Turcotte - The story was about a turtle. He had a friend named Mahi-Mahi. He was a dolphin.

Apparently, how Honu got his shell wasn't that important.

7) "The Haunted Forest" by G. Warren Schloat, Jr. - This book is about a boy named Andy. He met a basketball tree. He met lots of other trees.

A basketball tree?

And my personal favorite...

8) "Curious George Gets a Medal" by H.A. Rey - Some people asked Curious George to test a rocket. He did it. And he got a medal.

This is ridiculous. I'm going to read The Count of Monte Cristo.

patience is a virtue... just not hers

2011-07-20T10:33:00.007-05:00

Jim just reminded me of this quote from Alisa, sister-dear.

Sunday we were at the Woodley family reunion. The FINAL announcement (hahaha! That's just a little inside joke. You see, the announcement woman is never ever done making announcements. Everyone is happily putting some south in their mouth, talking, and laughing and in the background you can hear her attempting to tell everyone to make sure you sign the book, to raise your hand to vote on something, to make sure you take your dishes home... etc.) was to let the people with younger children and the slower, much older people go first in the food line.

That was at 12:01.

At 12:03...

Alisa - Okay. Let's go get in line! I'm hungry!

Jim - We're supposed to wait!

Alisa - The old people have had their chance! Let's go!

snowball fighting sock monkeys

2011-07-18T19:50:00.001-05:00

You know it's time to do the laundry when your husband is wearing his Christmas boxers.

Sorry, babe.

1) ... ... ...

2011-07-06T11:40:00.002-05:00

I just found this as a draft in my blog archives.

It was from November 2008.

It's Thanksgiving! And you know what that means... another list!
I am thankful for

1)

It's rather funny. Or sad. I can't decide. I am of the opinion that I was called away from the computer and never allowed to finish it. I am not of the opinion that I sat there in silence, trying to be thankful for just one thing.

words now

2011-07-04T14:33:00.003-05:00

Well, you've seen the pictures of the Creeper. Now for some memories.

It was wonderful. Seriously. It had been about ten years since we had last been to our well-beloved bike trail with the Meeks. Families change a lot in ten years, let me tell you.

1) Anna grew up. From the six year old who really didn't help at all to Mom's right hand sixteen year-old woman.

2) Jeff was the old son-in-law with three years of wife-experience

3) Jason and Jim were the newbies at 11 and 7 months.

4) Mom and Dad only have two more years of homeschooling left

5) Mr. Steve and Mrs. Debbie had been done for about 6 years

6) I realized that Anna isn't just my little sister anymore. She's my friend.

7) The boys (Ryan, Caleb, Asa and Jon) are now desired company. They like to sit around a fire and talk

8) We've all grown up. And whether I like it or not I wouldn't miss it for the world

Somethings don't change:

1) The word camping causes all males to forget how to use their razors

2) We still love four-square. As silly of a game as it looks, we are all secretly out for blood.

3) Dad and Uncle Greg's ongoing fight over how to build a fire. They nearly caught the campground on fire one morning. Ask them for the story.

4) Mom and Mrs. Debbie's organization skills still blow my mind. I kept a running list of things I forgot.

5) Satan is always wandering to and fro seeking whom he may devour. The constant fight is exhausting... but the small daily victories make it worth it.

Memorable moments:

1) When the rain came - I wish I had had a video camera set up. We were all gathered around the table and the fire, eating Alisa's delicious minestrone soup and listening to the rumble of thunder overhead and the wind....?.... in the trees. Wind? I think that's rain. No, it's wind, look at the trees bowing down. No, it's rain and it's getting louder. Here it comes. You know, I think you're right. It does sound like rain. I know I'm right! There it is!! AUGH!

And everyone ran for their life as if they were the Wicked Witch of the West. It happened in a matter of seconds. Everyone standing calmly around debating philosophical issues -blink- everyone running towards their personal shelter, chair in one hand, bowl of soup in the other. I was blessed to be in my own campsite, just a few feet from our stretched-out tarp. I laughed heartily at the hastily scattered folk.

2) Jeff's vast wife-experience - Another rain incident. Once again, we were standing around a campfire roasting smores. For some people, roasting a perfect marshmallow is a work of art. Alisa's art was nearing perfection when the rain came through the woods around us. We were a little more prepared for it this time. A few ran, but others just tucked themselves deeper into their ponchos and umbrellas shot out of nowhere. Alisa, seeing the swelling golden mass on her stick was afraid to move as the raindrops tickled her face. "Jeff! Quick! Bring me a graham cracker with chocolate! It's going to fall off!" Jeff, just feeling the wet himself, jumped to his feet, grabbed his chair, and took off.... towards his campsite. "I'll see you in the truck, honey!" he called. Alisa watched his retreating back in disbelief, her hair sticking to her face from the rain. I grabbed a graham with some chocolate and handed it to her. As she smooshed down the marshmallow she muttered, "He can sleep in that truck, too."

3) Asa's correction - My little brother gave me a needed kick in the pants. There were hurt feelings, expectations weren't being met, and a few grumpy faces. I voiced a snide remark, hidden in a "righteous attitude." Asa called me out privately. With a few simple words he told me that I was the one adding to the problem, that I knew what I was saying was wrong and to not say it again. I was ashamed. It's always embarrassing when someone younger than you puts you in your place and you know they're right. By the grace of God, I reacted humbly and apologized quickly. Thank you, Asa.

4) Bus driver's wisdom - We shuttled up to the top of the mountain to ride down it. Um... I mean, we shuttled DOWN the mountain and then rode up it! Yeah. Because, well, you know that only sissies coast down a mountain. Anyway, our driver was answering Jeff's question regarding the frequency of droughts. "Well, we've been getting a lot of rain this year. We do get droughts a good bit. Well, we haven't had one in the last five years or so. We've had lots of rain so... no drought. Now, when it stops raining that's when we have a drought."

5)Slugs - Our campsite was infested with them. We learned that slugs love: Pringles, other dead slugs, and our flip flops. Every morning there would be 2-4 gray blobs on our flip flops. Jim even hung them off of our tent and they still found them, the silver trails of ooze showing us their path up our tent. So one night I sprinkled a ring of salt around our shoes. Take that, you little cannibals! The next morning we gazed in disbelief: Apparently, salt doesn't deter them. It was like the would hit the first few grains of it, realize they were starting to melt, and crawl through the rest of it, like a soldier in the mud. When a slug melts, it turns orange. They would continue to crawl and melt all the way to our flip flops. There they would die, apparently at peace that they had accomplished their goal. So instead of easily flick-offable alive slugs, we had orange, gooey trails of leftover slugs. It was lovely.

And the list would continue. But I'm going to bed. Good night.

soft expired peaks

2011-06-15T09:00:00.006-05:00

Pioneer Woman posted a recipe a few weeks ago that I have been wanting to try ever since. Last week I finally had all of the ingredients and the appropriate time. So, I commenced to making Strawberry Pound Cake with Basil Whipped Cream. Yums, right?

So, I rounded up the typical ingredients and correct equipment. I creamed the sugar and butter,

then convinced the strawberries to go for a whirly-ride.

They didn't even say thank you.

I added the flour,

the (now) disgruntled strawberries,

and whipped it into a beautiful fluffy pink batter. And my left hand is seriously handicapped. I needed it to work the mixer so I could take pictures with my right. Would you believe that Lefty barely knew how to use an electric mixer? It was like, "Whoa man! Why you make me be doin' all this work?"

After pouring the batter into a bread pan and into the oven to bake, go out into your lovely, dew-kissed, weed-free garden and pick some fresh basil. If you don't have such a garden, it's okay. I don't either. If you don't have a garden period, come to my house and get all the basil you want. Seriously.

Ah. Now the whipping cream. I love whipping the cream. I love it the way it forms "soft peaks." So, I started whipping. I whipped and I whipped and I whipped. After 25 minutes, I googled "how long does it take whipping cream to whip," and was told by the masses that the longest it should take was 10 minutes. And that was with a hand mixer. So, I continued to electrically whip for another 10 minutes. Thus I had whipped for 35 minutes and this is what I was looking at. Not to mention that, by now, it was all over me, the counter, the flour and sugar containers, and the mail lying on the counter.

So, I yanked open the fridge and glared at the whipping cream. It said, "Don't blame me! You're the idiot who didn't check the expiration date!"

Yes. May 4th. And it was, very much, no bones about it, June 3rd. It didn't smell or anything to clue me in. It just didn't whip. Curse you, whipping cream. My husband reminded me that this was not a big deal and that we would get a free one from Winn Dixie. Which we did.

Ah. Whipping cream that hasn't expired. I love whipping cream that hasn't expired.

Look at those soft peaks. And that lazy left hand that can't even hold the glass bowl upright. And the weird yellow lighting.

Stir in the chopped basil and remember to look up the definition for pontification.

Voila!

Oh, by the way, the cake finished while I was whipping for nothing.

I will be perfectly honest and say this: It was kind of weird. All together it was good.... but the whipping cream by itself was strange and the cake by itself was plain. Now, the strawberries by themselves were fantastic! But, God made those, so duh. Jim said he liked it and I believed him... but we didn't go back for seconds.

The Creeper has been missed

2011-06-09T22:37:00.009-05:00

We recently traveled northwards to be with my family. A more detailed account will come later, but for now: The powerpoint.

The first reason we went up - Asa walked across a stage in a billowing robe of blue honor and was given a piece of paper. I really think our shout was the loudest. Congratulations, little brother.

Then... on to the Creeper. The bike trail we have visited at least five times now.

But this time, I have a husband.

Actually, this was the first time for all three of the sons-in-law. Son-in-laws. Whatever.

We saw multiple snakes,

swam in icy water (at least, the guys did),

took naps whenever we could,

and Dad fished whenever he could.

Sometimes we were confused,

and sometimes we were sleepy.

But most of the time we were glad to be in such a glorious land.

One day, we were forced to dress like trash bags. This is Mom saying, "Hey, you! You don't have on your trash bag!"

Yet somehow,

we still managed

to get very, very dirty.

And tired.

There was a cave to explore,

cute people to photograph,

Four Square to play (we are serious about this game),

wild ponies to feed (wild is very loosely translated here - these guys just hang out by the hiking trails for free food),

a dumb movie to watch,

and much cheesing to do.

I cannot wait to do it again.

Oh, the thing that I call living isn't gold or fame at all!

It's good-fellowship and sunshine, and it's roses by the wall;

It's evenings glad with music and a hearth fire that's ablaze,

And the joys which come to mortals in a thousand different ways.

It is laughter and contentment and the struggle for a goal;

It is everything that's needful in the shaping of a soul.

-Edgar Guest

I forgot the mustard!

2011-05-19T07:48:00.003-05:00

I called Alisa Tuesday to wish her a happy anniversary. I didn't call her until 9:34 pm because, well, because I just didn't. So, I really called to tell her I hope she HAD a happy anniversary. Our discussion turned to our upcoming camping trip. It has been decided that each woman (I'm a woman now that I'm married. Can you believe that?) would provide the entire group with dinner on each night. Being the master camping chef that I am, I claimed hotdogs. Jim and I will provide intricate roasting sticks that we carved with our teeth.

Not really.

Anyway, I wasn't feeling as bad about picking such an easy thing because everyone else was going relatively easy as well. However, my older sister, like all older sisters, has that God-given ability to make sure I don't feel too okay with it.

Me - "I don't feel so bad about making hotdogs since Mrs. Debbie is doing hamburgers."

Alisa - "Yeah. But she's has to at least MAKE the burgers."

Me - "Yeah. I know." Poophead.

Alisa - "I'm just kidding. I mean, as long as you have relish, we'll be good."

Me - ... ... ...

Alisa - "You didn't get relish, did you?"

Me - "I'll get some! I forgot it!"

Alisa - "Did you get kraut?"

Me - "Oopsie."

Alisa - "What the crap?! Did you even get buns?! What kind of a hotdog are you going to make? Are you just going to put one on a plate and squirt some ketchup on it?!"

Me - "Look, I don't put those things on a hotdog! So, I forgot them! I'll get them!"

Alisa - "So, we have to be happy with just a hotdog in a plain bun?! Sheesh. I'll bring my own dang relish."

Double poophead.

In all seriousness, I was laughing heartily over her hysteria at the idea of a relishless hotdog. My feelings weren't hurt at all. I don't want to present the overused picture of big, mean, red-headed, short-tempered, speech therapist, pearl-earring-wearing, older sister giving the younger, sweet, innocent, pedatric nurse, blogging, barefoot sister a pounding.

Mason jars with Ball lids

2011-05-09T23:50:00.004-05:00

Oh yes! I forgot! I also made strawberry jelly. And took pictures with the computer.

It's apparently been awhile since I helped Mom make this. Because I don't remember feeling guilty over the exorbitant amounts of sugar stirred into the strawberries. I won't tell you. I don't want you to feel guilty. I'll just say this: it should be called strawberry syrup. Or strawberry topping for vanilla ice cream. Or candied strawberries. Or dessert.

I also made a huge mess. Everything was oozing red. Granted my collander and food processor were already red.... but still. I don't remember Mom making such a mess. This picture was taken after I cleaned up a lot of it. And licked my fingers. And then washed my hands. Turning my computer-converted-camera red would not have been good.

Not a part of your balanced, nutritional breakfast.

Of pediatrics

2011-04-27T14:55:00.008-05:00

Hello. Just a few pictures of recent chilluns. Also, I broke our camera. Hee hee. Jim thinks I did it on purpose because I wanted a nicer one but that is not true. An hour-and-a-half ride in a tight-because-I'm-on-a-motorcycle-jean pocket will do that to a camera if it's trying to come on for said hour-and-a-half. I'm sorry. It was an accident.

I recently helped Friend Julie babysit some children from our church so their mothers could take a much needed lunch break together.

This is Kate. She has a loose tooth. Or HAD a loose tooth. She told me as soon as I walked in the door. Which reminds me of a story Julie told me about a little boy in her Sunday School class. He left a note to the tooth fairy that went something like this:

Dear toothfairy,

I lost my tooth and it is under my pillow. My name is Aiden. I am the one in the bed.

This is Jacob. And blogger likes to change the color of my font randomly. I'm not going to fight it. Jacob looks so much like his father (our associate pastor) it's almost weird helping him button his pants.

This is Graham. He likes Buzz Lightyear and wants YOU to be a Space Ranger! He could probably set a world record for peeing. It was like, dashinjust asJacobmovedunzippeezipupshoutDONE!dashout. Whoa. Jacob was still washing his hands. Graham got called back to wash his hands.

Graham also likes to put his shoes on by himself. And his crocs were brown, not purple.

This is Karis (see what I mean about the color?). She is from China. Kate introduced Jim and I to her new sister just like that. "I am Kate and this is Karis and she's from China!!" Jim was like, "What?!" Later he laughed and said, "I wonder how long Karis will put up with Kate introducing her like that."

Karis loves her milk.

Very much.

Jacob's squinty-eyed grin.

Jake drooled on the table for a little bit then slept in the midst of all the other children playing. Look at that wittle neck!

Kate with Cozy Coupe hair. Remember Cozy Coupes and the static they caused?

Post script in black: I got a job! Pediatric ICU here I come! I have no idea why they hired me. I have no experience in either of those fields. But, thank you God, they hired me! And I will earn the experience.

It was fun.

2011-04-23T08:18:00.009-05:00

About a month ago, my husband left me for Puerto Rico. Sniff.

His job required him to be there for two weeks.

So, being the grown-up young married woman that I am.... I went back to my parents house for a week. I hadn't seen them in three months and for those of you who don't know me, this was a tremendous amount of time. After being married for four weeks, Jim and I were coming back for Thanksgiving. As we entered my hometown's city limits, he said, "Welcome back! You do realize that this has been the longest amount of time you have been away, right?" And he was right!

Anyway... it was wonderful to be back. Although slightly weird. It's amazing how a mere six months of marriage can make "going back home" different.

We shoveled compost and played games and ate homemade pizza and watched movies and played duets. I folded laundry and cleaned out the fridge. I didn't tell my husband about the homemade pizza because I didn't want him to be jealous.

Sunday we planned on going to the park and grilling hotdogs and riding bikes. The forecast showed overcast, drizzly and cold. I assumed we wouldn't be going.

Never assume.

This is Jeff watching the entire bag of charcoal burn. He's having fun.

This is Caleb having fun while wishing the wood would burn because he is cold. The wood was wet so it just smoldered for a while. Wet and cold. This is why I assumed.

This is Asa having fun while toasting a chip.

This is Alisa having lots of fun while she breathes in the smoldering camp fire smoke.

Alisa has fun no matter where she goes because she dresses so smartly.

This is Dad. He really is having fun.

I have no idea who this person is. She just crashed our party. But I think she was scared that hunters might be out.... thus the extremity of that yellow.

This is Anna cheating.

Just kidding.

My mom had the most fun of all. But then, she did have a pretty sweet hat.

In all seriousness, we enjoyed each other.

Despite the yellow-clad stranger's hand monster.

The hotdogs were hot, the hummus was yummus, and the orange bell of Pit made an appearance. Then it was decided that, despite the fun of cold wind and wet benches, we would just have to go home and play Pit in our dry and warm living room. It was a hard decision.

Later I talked to Jim. I told him that it was cold and wet but we had had a lot of fun grilling hotdogs and playing card games and standing as close to the fire pit as we possibly could. So, what had he been doing?

Oh, snorkeling.

Flying over Monito,

Mona,

and several pods of whales! One whale was doing acrobatics! Like the kind they normally do only for the nature show cameras!

He had also got to walk around some old ruins that overlooked the beach.

The weather was sunny and warm. He told me he loved me and wished I was there.

We hung up and I went inside and told Mom all that he was doing. To which she replied:

"You should have told him about the homemade pizza."

oh brother(s)

2011-04-15T10:24:00.005-05:00

Pioneer Woman is having a photography contest. The subject matter is brothers. Look at these two gems.

This one makes me laugh so hard. The left one looks so nonchalant.

The mother of these two said that they were going for the whole "newborns snuggling look." But, after nine months of sharing the womb, they didn't want to snuggle. I mean, apparently! Is the one on the right choking the other?!

zero point five year

2011-04-09T21:12:00.004-05:00

Warning: Some cheesy sappiness is about to slap you in your face!

Six months ago today, there was a girl who was a very brand new wife. And a boy who was a very brand new husband. The girl had asked the boy a couple of weeks before: Please be patient with me. I know I'm being moody and you aren't getting much time. I've two more weeks with them. Just give me two more weeks with my family... and then I will be all yours.

And she got her two weeks of (even more) patience. And it was a bittersweet time.

Then, dear reader, she married him. And she promised to be completely his from then until death. They were scared and excited and tired and (she was) a little sad as they drove away. And she forgot her ENTIRE toiletry bag. She had to call her mom on the way to her wedding night. Yes, maybe it was a little on the mortifying side: "Um... hi, mom. Oh, yeah, we're almost there (AUGH!). Um... ( I know I just told a bunch of people that I was leaving my parents and cleaving to my husband.... but, I need you to find my toothbrush, please). Eventually, she was reunited with her deodorant and he loved her all the more for that. Hee hee.

She told me that the honeymoon was wonderful.

The girl and boy, day by day, are learning how to live for (and with) each other. And they are having the time of their lives.... even though she won't squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom, makes them run late everywhere, and is disorganized in an organized way... and he uses filing boxes for end tables, doesn't use a washcloth and is very organized in a disorganized way.

She hopes that he knows that despite all of her irritable moods, her fussy behavior, her selfish desires, and pouting moments... she always knows that he loves her. It's why she can't really be mad at him. It's hard to be mad at someone who loves you so relentlessly.

And she said that I could tell you that she loves him very very much. And that she is very very happy being his wife.

I have wasted such time

2011-04-05T13:13:00.005-05:00

"One of the great uses of Twitter and Facebook will be to prove at the Last Day that prayerlessness was not from lack of time.” -John Piper

Jim has mentioned getting rid of the internet. But! But! How will I blog? How can I check the weather? How will I be able to check for job openings as various hospitals? How can I look up fun things to do in the area? How will I ....will I ... facebook?

How shaming.

Be still and know that He is God

2011-04-01T00:18:00.006-05:00

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

If you haven't seen the movie Sweet Land, you should. The lines above are quoted and fit this peaceful film perfectly.

Words are few in the movie and almost absent between the two main characters. This makes you squirm at first, but please don't turn it off. And as monosyllabic conversation and glances advanced the love story, I was struck again by how we cannot stand the hush of it. We are so use to movies being fast and loud, making our brains dart here and there with the chaos. We want to laugh and cry and rock to the music with no time in between each verb. When a film makes us wait.... painfully so, for a happy development in the story, for humor, for "the kiss", for anything but this quiet!!, it makes us almost anxious. Hurry up! Entertain me faster!

I am trying very hard to not lose the ability to be still. To not be talking to someone or flipping to my favorite playlist whenever I am alone. To leave Pandora out of the picture when I am cooking. Even when I have a personal quiet time with God it is so trying to really and truly sit peacefully at his feet and shut out the anxiety and worry and noise of my mind. If He called me would I even hear Him?

"My dear Wormwood: Music and silence - how I detest them both! [...] Noise, the grand dynamism, the audible expression of all that is exultant, ruthless, and virile. [...] We will make the whole universe a noise in the end. We have already made great strides in this direction as regards the Earth. The melodies and silences of Heaven will be shouted down in the end. But I admit we are not yet loud enough, or anything like it. Research is in progress."

I think research in noise-making has made considerable progress in this world, don't you?

Now think of the quiet of Jesus. The stillness that he ordered of the sea and of demons. He told us in John 14:27, "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you..." Elisabeth Elliott asks us, "What sort of peace has He to give us? A peace which was constant in the midst of ceaseless work (with few visible results), frequent interruptions, impatient demands, few physical comforts; a peace which was not destroyed by the arguments, the faithlessness, and hatred of the people. Jesus had perfect confidence in His Father, whose will He had come to accomplish. Nothing touched Him without His Father's permission. Nothing touches me without my Father's permission. Can I not then wait patiently? [...] He's got the whole world in His hands!"

travelin'

2011-03-17T13:33:00.007-05:00

Last weekend Jim and I headed north for a wedding. I was excited. You see, I've never really traveled much and when I did it was in the backseat of a suburban. So the idea of flying somewhere makes me want to squeal. Jim is always amused over my pleasure of it because riding a plane kind of bores him. Now that he actually does the flying, riding doesn't even get second place.

Our first flight was to Atlanta. Our first flight was also delayed. We were informed that due to our delay, we would be bumped up to first class on our second flight and oh yeah, your lunch is on us. Sweetness.

We settled into the childless children's waiting room to read. Then we wanted to watch the news regarding the earthquake. There was nobody else in the room watching the cartoon Richie Rich, so Jim changed the channel. A cop, on his cellphone, yelled across the room, "Don't change that channel!" Jim apologized and asked if he was watching the current show. The cop, glaring now, barked,"Just don't TOUCH IT!" Yikes. Take a big giant chill pill and retire, dude.

Anyway. We eventually made it to Atlanta. And then first class, baby.

It was amazing. We got our own bottle of water right off! We even had our own little package of earbuds. We kept them. Everyone had on suits and were playing hearts on their iPads. Jim had on flannel and blew his nose very loudly.

But then he decided that it was time to act like we belonged and he stuck his personal earbuds in and watched the flight attendant on his personal tv while plugged into his personal radio.

I pointed out to him that this is how you're supposed to act if flying first class bores you.

Then we rode the train. I tried not to think about how rarely they clean it by watching the gray and cold landscape pass by backwards. It didn't help.

Each train seat had emergency instructions. The instructions said things like, "Look around for immediate danger," and "Look out for others," "Look around carefully for hazards," and "Watch your step on station stairs."

The raised dots you see are Braille.

I'll try to be optimistic and assume they gave other instructions.

Maybe something like, "If you feel like an emergency is about to occur inform the closest passenger that you'll be there disaster buddy. Don't tell them you are blind. Just say that you had your pupils dilated earlier that day and you have to keep on your sunglasses. And the cane was your grandfather's who died last summer but not before he gave you a German Shepherd with a backpack."

We didn't have time for me to meet Little Miss Matched at Union Station. I'm sure we would have got along just fine.

Then, the metro. Where everybody hates everybody. Especially if you roll a suitcase behind you and take up the space of 1.5 persons instead of 1 person. But, seriously, I loved it. I held onto my husband's hand, pushed my way right behind him way and ran up escalators carrying my roller bag like a champ. As we rocked on our feet and held the (GERMY!) pole to steady ourselves, I grinned. "I'm having so much fun." He laughed and kissed me. Right there in front of the entire getting-off-of-work-from-DC-crowd. Which probably made them hate us more.

We spent the night with the amazing Kelly then drove to Bedford, PA for a beautiful wedding. And I failed to take any more pictures. But Tom and Chris were yelled at for running on "sacred ground," Dave pulled a hair out of his mouth from his breakfast that was so long we thought he was flossing, Joshy wondered why Daylight Savings Time had to happen on his wedding night, and there was a 20 foot long table of candy at the reception.

And Pennsylvania's countryside is terribly inviting.

Moon pie?

2011-03-08T11:28:00.002-06:00

Mardi Gras:

The schools close for three days.

My husband gets off work for one.

The parades that throw you beads and moon pies will last all day long downtown.

Homes are covered with purple, green and gold "decorations."

And by decorations I mean masks, beads, tinsel, and moon pies. Classy, I know.

And my neighbor and her boyfriend, dressed to the hilt, leave their house at 10:40 pm for a Mardi Gras ball.... but not before backing into his car parked in the driveway.

Gotta watch out for those random cars that park behind your garage door, buddy. They'll get you every time.

i forgot to make a wish

2011-02-26T09:59:00.004-06:00

Last night, my nasal passage were stopped up, my eyes were red, and I was uncomfortably warm. It was 9:30 and I asked him if we could go on a walk. He said yes, even though he was probably ready to go to sleep.

It was blessedly cool outside. We tramped around the neighborhood, scaring a tiny white dog nearly to death. It galloped a wide path around us, reached the safety of its own yard, then turned and barked as ferociously as a 5-lb dog can. Despite the ugly orange glow of the voted-in streetlights, the stars were still bright. We walked for probably half an hour and my mind relaxed. As I had been told earlier: there is no grace in hypothetical situations, Amy. Give God time to be good. I squeezed his hand. God blessed me so when He gave me this man.

We walked back to our home and laid down on the deck to continue to watch the stars. I said I wanted to study astrology. He said, "No, you don't." "What did I mean to say?" I asked. "Astronomy." Yes, that is what I would like to study.

No more words. Quiet. Something was walking around in the woods behind us, probably enjoying the many food scraps I had thrown out. Then, a quick light in the sky and Jim pointed with a gasp. The words, "Goofball, that's a plane," were on my tongue as I glanced toward an incredibly bright streak in the sky. My mouth fell open and we leapt to our feet.

The biggest, longest shooting star I have ever seen glowed huge and orange across the sky. We both guessed later it lasted for at least five seconds. If we had had no idea that objects falling through our atmosphere caught on fire, we would have known after watching such a fireball. It's arc cut down behind still-bare trees (despite 80 degree weather this week) and faded. We just stood there, amazed and open-mouthed.

I feel almost lame for posting this.

It was an incredible evening.

maybe I'm thinking too much

2011-02-24T10:22:00.004-06:00

This morning, I stayed in bed for about 40 more minutes after my husband got up. I fell asleep and this was my dream.

I found an ostrich egg and I kept it warm until it hatched. The ostrich was about one and a half inches tall and looked like a full-grown one. I put him in a glass measuring cup and and gave him cubed pineapple pieces. He picked at a few of them and the yellow pulp dangled from his bill. It was apparent he didn't like pineapple.

It was also apparent by my next decision that I forgot everything I know about baby birds. Like, 1) They don't drink milk, you idiot.

But, in my dream, in my mind, they did. So, I warmed some milk up in the microwave. In a glass measuring cup. Or maybe I should say, THE glass measuring cup. I warmed it up so much, it boiled and evaporated out of the cup by the time the timer chimed. And my new little friend was dead. Killed by his brainless owner by either deadly microwave waves or boiling waves of milk. I can't decide which one would be worse.

I woke up and went to the kitchen and fixed my husband breakfast. I was rather disturbed. I don't even know how to take care of a 1.5 inch ostrich? Should I be feeding a grown man? Should we get a dog?

And I had really wanted for it to grow up. Then I could ride it like this stylish lady.

Dreams are so weird. When I learned in psychology class that when you sleep all the doors, windows, and gates in your mind come swinging open and the walls come crashing down, thus allowing access to your entire brain to the dream-makers... it made a little sense.

But ostriches in glass measuring cups? Really brain?

On liking neutrals

2011-02-22T13:39:00.005-06:00

We went to get our rug last Saturday. We had already picked it out a few weeks ago, but we waited until it went on sale. The wait idea was Jim's. Of course it was a good idea! It was his, wasn't it? If we had bought it the day we found it (which is when I wanted to) we would have paid twice the amount we paid Saturday.

Before we went looking for one I told Jim to not worry, I was considering getting a neutral rug. I'm sure he was relieved. You see, Jim doesn't really trust my matching skills. My Dad told me that he doesn't, either.

"Amy, can I say something?"

Oh boy.

"I'm not very confident with your matching."

P.S. My Dad wears overalls everywhere.

It didn't help that when Jim and I were dressing up for a tacky Halloween party I changed multiple times because I felt like I was dressing normally. And I was stupid and said that out loud.

And Jim knows I like this rug:

Also, I got my Country Living magazine this week and there was a really cool house in it. Its owner said, "I don't care if colors clash. A person's personality should be reflected in a house." Watch out, husband. This mismatching, pattern clashing, era-crossing personality wants to be unleashed.

But for now, a neutral rug.

This is Jim, supporting the second amendment.

We got our chest freezer, Mom. Stocking up on grocery sales, here I come!

Yes, I offered to help. He said no thanks.

Speedy carpet unrolling!!

Voila. Rugs make rooms look so much warmer. And no matter how hard I try, I cannot get those things over the doorway to look right. I want them to drape. Maybe when the bookshelves go up, it will help.

This picture was taken right as Galadriel, in all of her drama, burst through the wall.

cookin'

2011-02-17T13:28:00.021-06:00

While in Cape Cod for a New Year's wedding, we were served a shish-kabobbed chicken bite with a peanut sauce... and it was so good. So when I found this recipe on Pioneer Woman's (I have a crush on her) Tasty Kitchen blog, I wanted to see if I could do it.

It was vurry vurry good. However, I must say this: Maybe I'm just new at this whole being-completely-in-charge-of-a-meal-thing and all, but it took me longer than 20 minutes to prepare it. I mean, sometimes I think these "prep times" come from those cooking shows. You know the ones where they say something like, "Today we are going to roast quail and make an apricot glaze from the tree we grew directly in the kitchen! And it is SOO easy! It only takes 21 minutes!" Then they show you their counter which has all of the ingredients diced and shredded and pureed all in their own individual measuring cups. Whoa. I didn't know apricots were peeled, seeded, and sliced when you pulled them from the tree! And the counter! There is plenty of space because the mess has miraculously disappeared and the food is back in the cupboard. Wow! I wish I could cook like that!

Anyway, back to the "Satay Chicken with Peanut Sauce."

I made the marinade first. I don't think I have ever used turmeric. It is quite strong.

Then I measured the 4 tablespoons of lime juice. Trying to hit the tablespoon with the cascading juice was hard. Eew! Raw chicken!

But I learned that half of a lime equals two tablespoons, so the rest was allowed to cascade into the much larger bowl.

Whisk. It IS a fun word, Katie. However, I need to learn to hold still if I'm going to take a picture. Whisk whisk whisk.

Just so you know, I cut up the chicken. It wasn't conveniently chopped when I pulled it out of the freezer. Raw chicken grosses me out though, and I didn't want to take a picture of it. It has to marinaTe in the marinaDe for an hour. See the little bowl? You have to remove 5 tablespoons of the marinade for the peanut sauce.

After an hour, harpoon them on skewers. If you have wooden skewers, please soak them in water, please. Flambe skewer is not an appropriate entree. Turmeric stains your hands, so wear gloves. And if all you have are your bathroom cleaning gloves, just don't tell anyone.

...

Just kidding.

Go outside and wait for a handsome man to drive up on a motorcycle. Ask him if he would man your grill. Men like to man things, so most likely he will say yes. If you try to take his picture, he might smirk... obviously, he is used to women trying to take his picture.

Saute the onion that YOU chopped for 5 minutes in the oil. Add the chili, the saved marinade, the brown sugar, and water. Get it really hot, but don't let it boil. Why? I really don't know.

The handsome motorcycle man showed me how the mess miraculously disappears!

Remove from the heat and whisk in the peanut butter until smooth. The recipe says to NOT use natural. It is all I had so I DID use it.

Pour the sauce over the skewered chicken. Or, remove the chicken and then pour the sauce. That is what the motorcycle man did. And, of course, it was easier to eat that way. You can see a little bit of flambe skewer in this picture.

It was quite yummies in our tummies.

P.S. I would cut the turmeric in half if I made it again. I learned turmeric is like curry. It makes you wonder, "What was the point of all those other spices?"

never underestimate the power

2011-02-08T21:51:00.001-06:00

the universal remote

2011-02-01T14:16:00.002-06:00

I watched Top Gun the other night with my husband. I have never seen it. I learned that since I had married a pilot, I should have this experience under my belt. You see, a proper pilot's wife should know proper pilot lingo. Pilot lingo such as, "Talk to me, Goose!" and "Too close for missiles, switching to guns!" or, "Son, your ego is writing checks your body can't cash!"

Anyway, during a take-the-dishes-to-the-kitchen break, Jim ran to the bathroom. I threatened to start the movie and he called out, "I'll be back before you would be able to get it started!" Which is very mean. And true. You see, I have a disability. And looking at everyone else in this country, I think my disability should mean I don't have to work and can park in the first parking spot at Wal-Mart too. My disability involves figure-it-out skills with electronic.... things. I do not have those skills. Even a digital watch befuddles me. Oh yeah. Bobby pins blow my mind as well.

All of this to say that I was reminded of this video. I think my favorite part is the packing peanuts.

My brothers would have caught it

2011-01-25T21:00:00.002-06:00

Last night I was the "greeter" at a ladies' Bible study. That just means I opened the door, gave them a big smile and said hey.

There was also a highschool basketball game going on in the gym of the same building. So, after smiling for two ladies, I found myself ( ..... in Paris." "Were you lost?" Name the movie!) holding the door for two guys dressed for their game.

I grinned. "Well hello! Are y'all here for the ladies' Bible study?!"

They shuffled their feet and one of them goes, "Um... no. We're here for a basketball game."

Oh really, number 16? I would have never guessed.

Runaway tongue

2011-01-20T12:08:00.004-06:00

Me: Have you seen Runaway Jury?

Jim: Umm.... I think so.... doesn't it have Sandra Bullock?

Me: No. You're thinking about Runaway Bus.

Me: That didn't sound right, Amy. Think fast! Think fast!

Jim: Do you mean Speed?

Umm. Yes. That IS what I meant. And as my husband laughed uproariously, I realized there really wasn't any use in trying to say something like, "I was trying to say 'No, you're thinking about the one ABOUT the runaway bus.'"

Well, I'm leaving it in italics because in my mind, it was a movie. Because I'm a doofus.

And yes, I know my blog layout is boring. I'm working on it and trying to make it look more grown-up. Because only grown-ups are allowed to watch Runaway Bus.

I don't think he was listening

2011-01-13T22:06:00.006-06:00

Today I called my Dad to wish him a happy birthday:

Me: Hey Dad! Happy Birthday!

Dad: Hey! Happy Birthday to you!

Probably the best "you too!" phrase I've heard ever.

I love you, Dad. Happy Birthday to just you.

Could switching to Geico?

2011-01-11T19:42:00.004-06:00

Other insurance companies should be fighting over the brain behind Geico's commercials.

Because they are hilarious. If you haven't already seen these, here they are in no particular order. If you have seen them.... well.... just watch them again.

Generation facebook

2011-01-06T22:09:00.004-06:00

I just googled a phrase that started with "how do you..." and in proper Google style, I immediately had 10 choices of things to learn how to do.

Four of them had to do with facebook.

Sugar plum fairies

2010-12-20T11:01:00.003-06:00

I received an early Christmas present.

I know that it's after Christmas already, but this happened before Christmas.

Jim took me to see the Nutcracker Ballet. It was a surprise. I love surprises! I told him I wouldn't check his email. I wouldn't even look up the address of the map to Friday night's location he left at home.

Anyway... I had so much fun! He knows I'm incredibly thankful for his thoughtfulness (weeks ago, I barely mentioned that I had never seen it and would like to one day) and enjoyed (almost) every second of the evening. However, we both agree that we possibly don't enjoy "the arts" to the extent that other persons do. I shall tell of one of those persons shortly.

It was in a large old theater, similar to the Alabama Theater. Everything from jeans to strapless evening gowns were present. We took our seats and read our programs, as neither one of us knew the story. There's a party, everyone dances, the magic uncle shows up, gives out gifts, everyone dances, Fritz and Clara are happy, everyone goes home, Clara falls asleep on the couch with her new doll and dreams, the Mouse King dances (aka fights) with the Nutcrackers army and is killed, Clara falls in love with the Prince, everyone dances including the Sugar Plum Fairy, Tea, Coffee, Chocolate, Little Bakers, and Candy Canes. Clara is made queen amidst more dancing.... then she wakes up. The End. Easy enough.

While we were reading, I overheard the young man next to me tell his other neighbor that his wife was in the ballet. How sweet and supportive, I thought. Ballet probably isn't his favorite thing to watch but he is here for her.

Au contraire.

The room went dark and the music began. The supportive husband immediately began directing the music and humming. Off key. Apparently, he hadn't read the Classical Music Book of Rules for the Enthusiastic Listener. It says and I quote, "The only circumstance upon which one may hum along with the workings of the great musical writers shall only be when one is alone." Duh. The curtain was raised and he stopped directing and humming. I guess he figured the sound system did not need his assistance anymore.

Okay, everyone is dancing and the costumes were fun. We don't think Fritz glanced in the mirror before he pranced out due to a very swarthy swab of makeup on his right cheek. Anyway, the uncle comes and brings out a life-sized dancing soldier. This guy's robot moves were amazing.... but he was wearing pantyhose. I knew that that is what male ballerinas wear but it's still rather horrifying. I felt like I should apologize to Jim for even watching. Moving on.

She gets the doll and everyone dances some more. Party's over and the guests go home and Clara falls asleep and falls in love with her now pantyhose-wearing-Nutcracker-prince.

Now this is where you start losing the storyline. Because now, everyone is just dancing. They aren't having a party, they didn't receive a nutcracker doll, they aren't doing magic tricks.... they're just dancing. And let me say that I am not trying to disregard the incredible physical hardships that a ballerina must undergo to be able to do some of the moves they were doing. I know it must be very hard. I just didn't appreciate them as much as my neighbor. He highly appreciated them. The crowd clapped at the end of every dance. HE clapped whenever he felt like it, whispering loudly, "Oh, that is hard!" or, "She is incredible!" or, "Amazing job!" Okay, dude, you know a lot about ballet. We know. Please be quiet.

Then his cellphone went off. Forever and a day it rang and he didn't move for it. It was only when I looked under my seat to make sure someone's phone hadn't slid under it that he realized, "Oh! That's my phone ringing! I thought that it sounded familiar!"

More and more dancing.

When it was over, Jim helped me into my coat and we escaped the pressing mob and breathed the cold outdoor air gladly. As we walked back to the truck we laughed together, knowing that many people would criticize us for our shallow view of the work of art we just witnessed. We also laughed with relief over the realization that neither one of us liked ballet as much as that young man.

I'm a vile one

2010-12-09T10:03:00.002-06:00

Jim discovered that I don't turn on Christmas music every time I get in the car. Due to this discovery, he has knighted one particular Christmas song as my own.

You guessed it.

I, apparently, have garlic in my soul, termites in my smile, and a heart that is full of unwashed socks.

Remembering with common sense

2010-11-12T07:13:00.000-06:00

Remarks by President Ronald Reagan
Veterans Day National Ceremony
Arlington National Cemetery
Arlington, Virginia
November 11, 1985

PRESIDENT REAGAN: Secretary Weinberger, Harry Walters, Robert Medairos, reverend clergy, ladies and gentlemen, a few moments ago I placed a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and as I stepped back and stood during the moment of silence that followed, I said a small prayer. And it occurred to me that each of my predecessors has had a similar moment, and I wondered if our prayers weren't very much the same, if not identical.

We celebrate Veterans Day on the anniversary of the armistice that ended World War I, the armistice that began on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. And I wonder, in fact, if all Americans' prayers aren't the same as those I mentioned a moment ago. The timing of this holiday is quite deliberate in terms of historical fact but somehow it always seems quite fitting to me that this day comes deep in autumn when the colors are muted and the days seem to invite contemplation.

We are gathered at the National Cemetery, which provides a final resting place for the heroes who have defended our country since the Civil War. This amphitheater, this place for speeches, is more central to this cemetery than it first might seem apparent, for all we can ever do for our heroes is remember them and remember what they did -- and memories are transmitted through words.

Sometime back I received in the name of our country the bodies of four marines who had died while on active duty. I said then that there is a special sadness that accompanies the death of a serviceman, for we're never quite good enough to them-not really; we can't be, because what they gave us is beyond our powers to repay. And so, when a serviceman dies, it's a tear in the fabric, a break in the whole, and all we can do is remember.

It is, in a way, an odd thing to honor those who died in defense of our country, in defense of us, in wars far away. The imagination plays a trick. We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise. We see them as something like the Founding Fathers, grave and gray haired. But most of them were boys when they died, and they gave up two lives -- the one they were living and the one they would have lived. When they died, they gave up their chance to be husbands and fathers and grandfathers. They gave up their chance to be revered old men. They gave up everything for our country, for us. And all we can do is remember.

There's always someone who is remembering for us. No matter what time of year it is or what time of day, there are always people who come to this cemetery, leave a flag or a flower or a little rock on a headstone. And they stop and bow their heads and communicate what they wished to communicate. They say, "Hello, Johnny," or "Hello, Bob. We still think of you. You're still with us. We never got over you, and we pray for you still, and we'll see you again. We'll all meet again." In a way, they represent us, these relatives and friends, and they speak for us as they walk among the headstones and remember. It's not so hard to summon memory, but it's hard to recapture meaning.

And the living have a responsibility to remember the conditions that led to the wars in which our heroes died. Perhaps we can start by remembering this: that all of those who died for us and our country were, in one way or another, victims of a peace process that failed; victims of a decision to forget certain things; to forget, for instance, that the surest way to keep a peace going is to stay strong. Weakness, after all, is a temptation -- it tempts the pugnacious to assert themselves -- but strength is a declaration that cannot be misunderstood. Strength is a condition that declares actions have consequences. Strength is a prudent warning to the belligerent that aggression need not go unanswered.

Peace fails when we forget what we stand for. It fails when we forget that our Republic is based on firm principles, principles that have real meaning, that with them, we are the last, best hope of man on Earth; without them, we're little more than the crust of a continent. Peace also fails when we forget to bring to the bargaining table God’s first intellectual gift to man: common sense. Common sense gives us a realistic knowledge of human beings and how they think, how they live in the world, what motivates them. Common sense tells us that man has magic in him, but also clay. Common sense can tell the difference between right and wrong. Common sense forgives error, but it always recognizes it to be error first.

We endanger the peace and confuse all issues when we obscure the truth; when we refuse to name an act for what it is; when we refuse to see the obvious and seek safety in Almighty. Peace is only maintained and won by those who have clear eyes and brave minds. Peace is imperiled when we forget to try for agreements and settlements and treaties; when we forget to hold out our hands and strive; when we forget that God gave us talents to use in securing the ends He desires. Peace fails when we forget that agreements, once made, cannot be broken without a price.

Each new day carries within it the potential for breakthroughs, for progress. Each new day bursts with possibilities. And so, hope is realistic and despair a pointless little sin. And peace fails when we forget to pray to the source of all peace and life and happiness. I think sometimes of General Matthew Ridgeway, who, the night before D-day, tossed sleepless on his cot and talked to the Lord and listened for the promise that God made to Joshua: “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”

We're surrounded today by the dead of our wars. We owe them a debt we can never repay. All we can do is remember them and what they did and why they had to be brave for us. All we can do is try to see that other young men never have to join them. Today, as never before, we must pledge to remember the things that will continue the peace. Today, as never before, we must pray for God's help in broadening and deepening the peace we enjoy. Let us pray for freedom and justice and a more stable world. And let us make a compact today with the dead, a promise in the words for which General Ridgeway listened, “I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.”

In memory of those who gave the last full measure of devotion, may our efforts to achieve lasting peace gain strength. And through whatever coincidence or accident of timing, I tell you that a week from now when I am some thousands of miles away, believe me, the memory and the importance of this day will be in the forefront of my mind and in my heart.

Thank you. God bless you all, and God bless America.

It was pretty schweet

2010-11-08T13:39:00.024-06:00

Tomorrow is our one month anniversary.

Earlier last week Jim asked me if I wanted to go on a picnic. Yes please and thank you.

Saturday morning, he stepped out on our deck and made a phone call. Afterwards he said that we would need to leave by 11:30 to go to the picnic. He wouldn't tell me where. Well, I love surprises. Seriously, I do. Not scary surprises. Real ones.

So, I got ready, asked him if my shoes were appropriate, and climbed into the truck. A little later we pulled up to...

the airport.

I sat there for a second. "You're taking me flying?! Really?!"

He just grinned.

"Are we having a picnic in the air?"

"Um.... I don't know. Maybe."

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. Cue theme song.

So, my husband gave me an aerial view of my new home and its surroundings. Basically, he blew all other dates out of the water.

He taught me a little tiny piece of flying a

plane knowledge. Air speed, the wet compass, vertical speed, flying with instruments only,

using the rudders in the turns.... he even let me fly it. After 2 minutes I was exhausted (I was, apparently, using my whole upper body to grip the "wheel") and gladly relinquished "control." He then headed to our destination.

Dauphin Island! I mean, the plane ride already had me amazed but we were going to have a picnic on the beach?! I really think my brain had a very minor implosion at that moment.

Anyway.... it was an incredible day. My pilot husband landed on the tiny little strip with nary a jolt to his bride's head. We grabbed our bag and blanket and set off in the direction that we hoped was the beach. Duh Amy, you were on an island. Every direction is the beach. Oh yeah. Darn.

We walked out onto the cool sand. Sand that was so dry it didn't stick to your feet. The beach was completely empty except for one other couple and the occasional clean-up crew. We spread out.... and the first seagull landed. She proceeded to keep all of the other seagulls away. Thanks. Still no food for you, though.

It was an absolutely incredible day spent with my best friend. We ate PBJs and chocolate cake. I chased the seagulls while he tried to nap. He took off without a problem despite the direct crosswind. You know, part of me feels all bomb-diggety because I'm using all of these terms... but I'm really afraid I'm not using them correctly. He stalled the plane three times in a row (purposely) on the way home and my stomach was introduced to my uvula. My headset was green and the mouth piece barely worked. I had to chew on it just right before Jim could hear me. And if that even registered on the "Complaints of the Day" radar.... it would be the only one.

Dear husband,

I love you. I cannot wait until our 2 month anniversary.

Love, your wife

P.S. I kidd

I bet Martin Luther would have fled.

2010-11-03T07:14:00.005-05:00

Saturday night I went on base where Jim was on duty and watched the Auburn game with him. Number one I wanted to see him. Number two to escape the Barbarian horde. Some of you call them trick-or-treaters.

Sunday evening rolled around. Fifth Sunday so no evening church. We were on his computer, trying to fix my blog. I suggested we go somewhere. We continued to sit. The house got darker and darker and we had not gotten up to turn on any lights.

Amy - "Well, I think that will work."

Jim - "Are you satisfied?"

Amy - "Yes, thank y (ding dong!) ..... what?!"

Jim, looks confused, then his eyes widen - "It's a trick-or-treater! We forgot to get out of the house!"

Amy, hissing - "Quick, close the computer or they'll see the light!"

Jim - "Slowly. If they see the light go out fast, they'll know we're here!"

We didn't make a sound. We slowly clicked the laptop shut... and crept to the front door and peered into the foyer. There were a lot of Barbarians traipsing around on our road. "Maybe they'll think we aren't home?," I asked. "Maybe," he said, "Maybe, they'll tell everyone else that too. Oh no! The garage door is wide open! They'll know we're here!" "No. No... maybe they'll just think we are idiotic people who leave our house wide open to the world."

They continued to walk around, waving their plastic bags. It was apparent that it was hard to walk with such garb. Parents kept up with their kids by creeping alongside the yards in their cars, flashers on, obviously embarrassed they allow their children to do this. We saw several teenagers not dressed up at all, but still asking for candy. Lame.

"We're trapped like rats," Jim said. "Hey! Do you still want to go somewhere?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"Let's do it. Get a sweatshirt."

Getting ready to go takes longer in a pitch black house. But we managed... with occasional short bursts of on-off light activity.

We crawled into our garage, slipped into the truck, and fled. And it's a good thing too. Their reinforcements were trudging up the hill towards our subdivision.

What it's like

2010-10-26T15:33:00.012-05:00

Hello. I am still alive.... I've just been undergoing some changes.

For one thing: I am now married. For real. This translates into several things:

a) I have a new name. It's rather strange to get used to

b) My home is now with him

c) I am no longer a virgin. I know, I know... your parents might not let you hang out with me anymore

d) There isn't a d. But four points look so much more intellectual than three

For another thing: I am in charge of cooking. No more sous chefing for me. I am in charge of menus, grocery lists, timing, knowing if the pork is done or not, and figuring out a gas stove.

C. I am learning how to sleep with someone else. I mean sleep. It's kind of hard. He keeps talking in his sleep and hitting me. I, suddenly, have to pee at 2:40. What's with that? I have never had to pee in the middle of the night and before we got married, he never hit me!

4. I am so overwhelmed by the generosity of people right now (translation: AUGGGGHHH!!! THANK YOU NOTES FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!).

E. I have a husband. What?! Get out of town! No, for real. Allow me to talk about him. The man has become my spiritual leader. He is always asking me if I have spent time with God today and encouraging me to do so if I haven't. He'll just up and out of the blue ask if there is anything

about which he could pray for me. He loves sitting down and just talking about something he has realized, or something that he's been dwelling on, or something that he heard that day. And he loves to talk with me. Not TO me. WITH me. His utter delight at conversation warms my heart. He is actually the one who makes me stop what I'm doing and just talk. Last night he wouldn't let me get up to help him clean the dishes because he wanted me to keep talking. I guess chores do distract me from verbalizing my feelings.

Jim is affectionate in public. Some of you know that this was not an easy adjustment for me. I was like, "Don't hug me! We're in the grocery store!" or, "No. No kiss. We're right outside our friends' house!" But now... I'm learning to love it! It's so.... so.... territorial doesn't seem the right word, but there is a protection that I feel when he kisses me. I can almost hear him saying to everyone around us, "This is flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone." It's quite a tingly feeling. I love him so.

And last but not least, I have a new home. Meaning I am being allowed to consider curtains, clocks, wall hangings, and a few new pieces of furniture! But first, I have to finish unpacking.

[ ... ]

2010-10-08T08:14:00.003-05:00

To my family:

Family, according to Noah Webster in 1828 meant "The collective body of persons who live in one house and under one head or manager; a household, including parents, children and servants, and as the case may be, lodgers or boarders."

Oh, Noah. You know family means so much more than that.

This can't be long. It's THE WORK DAY, after all.

I just wanted to say that I love each and everyone one of you and am going to miss this home. The chaos of dinnertime. The impossibility to sleep in when your bedroom is under the kitchen. Being woken up with a chore list (well.... I don't know if I'll miss THAT). And I'll stop now before I ramble.

I can't say anything else, precious ones. My fingers are just sitting on the keyboard as my emotions well over in my eyes. I hope my love is silently understood... because making it audible is impossible right now.

socks after marriage? Nah.

2010-09-29T19:19:00.002-05:00

Anna: "Amy, when you get married, can I have your socks?"
Me: "People, I'm getting married. I'm not dying."

Jim, after I told him: "Just admit it. Your family sees me as the Grim Reaper."

Messed up. Again.

2010-09-02T14:09:00.003-05:00

I am currently reading through I Kings. I mean, not currently, because currently I'm typing this blog.

Anyway... I keep getting cracked up at the author. Whoever he was. I've heard Isaiah, Jeremiah, even Elijah. But around chapter 14, this phrase starts showing up: "Now the rest of the acts of ____ and all that he did, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah?" Again and again. I can just picture the man of God, sitting there, scratching away and going, "Wait! I've already told this! I am not writing it AGAIN!" Of course, anyone would get tired of writing about the kings of Israel and Judah. Almost every single one of them, "walked in the sins of his father which he had committed before him; and his heart was not wholly devoted to the Lord his God, like the heart of his father David." This is the pattern of humans. Thank goodness for God's promise to never destroy the earth again until His return.... because honestly, we are so incredibly forgetful of His love for and promises to and protection of us, we deserve to be erased about every decade or so.

I am one of them. I am a sinner just like everyone else. I am angry at Him when I am disappointed or hurt and I forget Him when things go my way. I commit the same sins again and again and again... and again and again He reminds me of who He is and that His plan is entirely different but so, so much better if I would just hold His hand. If I would just listen for that still, quiet voice that says, "Why are you here, Amy?" Because I want to be in charge, Jesus. Just hang on. I've got this.

And hours, days, weeks later I find that I am bleeding and so utterly lost in a thicket of thorns and... guess what? He is still there. He reaches down and He bathes my face and says, "Come. Follow Me." And when I do.... I still bleed. But I am no longer alone or lost. For now anyway. In a few days, I'll probably wander off again.

It is so frustrating. Frustrating and embarrassing. I have realized that I often just dwell on what an idiot I am, how I have no right to ask for forgiveness, how I just know that Christ doesn't want me anymore. My almost husband has been pushing me to not do this. And part of me rebelled because I thought I was using the "Get Out of Jail Free Card" with God. Just ask for forgiveness and move on. Don't think about your sin. He loves you forever. Jim has told me that no, not that. To be more and more aware of the wickedness of our sin is to grow closer to Christ. But, we can't humanize Him. He isn't human. Just because I couldn't forgive someone for the same thing again and again doesn't me He can't. His forgiveness knows no bounds. He is not confined by His emotions of getting even. He does not keep an account.

"He loves me now as much as He did when first He inscribed my name in His eternal book of election. He has not repented of His choice. He has not blotted out one of His chosen; there are no erasures in that book; all whose names are written in it are safe forever." - Charles Spurgeon

P.S. Another funny moment. When Elijah is standing on the mountain in I Kings 19 and he witnesses the strong wind destroying the mountain, then the earthquake, then the fire... and God was not in any of them. Then... a gentle wind? Elijah wraps his face in a mantle because he knows he is about to talk to God. And the voice says, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" Elijah responds with, "I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the sons of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars and killed Your prophets with the sword. And I alone am left; and they seek my life, to take it away."

I'm sorry, but the picture of him standing there, with a cloak wrapped around his head saying these things is humorous to me. "Augh auf bin vurry zeluhs fah t' Lawd... an augh canna breeve."

Help

2010-08-29T16:14:00.002-05:00

Okay, my multi-musicianed-musing friends,

I need a song. The song that will play when I come into the church. Something that will sound good played with a piano. I also have a violinist and celloist (?) available. Send me ideas! My mom said I need to decide this week and I have no idea!

Thanks!

So much for stress free

2010-08-09T09:18:00.001-05:00

Last night, Mom walked into the kitchen where Ryan and I were. She had a sign taped to her chest.

It said: ".... after the wedding."

She said, "This is now my answer to all of your questions."

It was pretty funny.

"Good" food?

2010-07-12T12:23:00.004-05:00

My Mom's catscan was last week....

For those of you who didn't know, she opted to not do chemo and go on a diet. A very radical diet with a ton of supplements (enzymes that wage war with cancer cells like Eomer with the Urak Hai). I mean radical. Only raw food for a month. No meat. No bread. No pasta or cheese. And absolutely, positively NO SUGAR.

And my Mom did it. She continued to cook the "good" food for us and ate salads, smoothies, and drank the juice that had been in solid form just that morning. Our refrigerator overflowed with goodness: Avocados, radishes, okra, sprouts, blueberries, strawberries, fresh pineapple, mango, lemons, celery, carrots, red and yellow and green bell pepper.... wonderful, colorful foods!
She took her food with her when we ate out. She cooked a fourth of July meal with barbequed chicken, baked beans with brown sugar, potatoe salad, chips, dips, multiple desserts.... and ate her salad. It was an amazing show of character and will.

A lot of people didn't understand that she was fighting cancer with food. How can you? If it's that "easy" why does chemo even exist?

Well.... to tell you the truth, our idea of health is crap. Really. You see, God created our bodies to take care of themselves. We're here to glorify Him and enjoy Him forever, remember? It's hard to glorify Him when we're having a hard time breathing or we're too fat to get off of the couch. We have an amazing ability to heal, to fight, and to endure a lot of stuff.... IF we are supplying the armory. But we don't. We opt for healthy by not putting cheese on our burger. We drink diet Cokes and think that our bodies will appreciate it. We fry everything!! in oils that have been so chemically messed with our bodies don't know how to break it down, thus storing these extra deposits anywhere they can find a spot. God put what we need to live in the foods that grow naturally. It's all there! Vitamins, enzymes, natural flora, tastiness.... He saw that it was all good and wanted us to enjoy it. HIS food is in a format that the human body knows how to handle. It can break everything down and use all of it... it's amazing!

And Mom's catscan? The mass has reduced in size by 50%. It doubled the month before the diet... and now it's halfway gone! Her oncologist was laughing on the phone when he told her. "The radiologist wants to know what in the world you are doing.... because it's working!"

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Honey, the mustache?

2010-07-01T22:42:00.002-05:00

Did I blog about UP? The Pixar movie that turned me into a blubbering mess in the first ten minutes? No? Yes?

Whatever.

Well. I watched Toy Story 3 last Saturday. And I .... uh.... cried. Yes. Once again, over a cartoon. It was sad though. I mean.... Andy.... grown up.... not playing.... attic or trash?.... I won't spoil it, but I cried.

Pixar is seriously doing an amazing job with making movies for families. A plot with great development of characters, pretty clear lines between good and bad guys, excellent animation, lessons to be learned, the hero falling then picking himself back up.... all the while dialogue that adults enjoy without being inappropriate.

Some of the great lines:

Molly just threw her Barbie into the donation box -

Jessie - "Oh. Poor Barbie."

Ham - "I get the Corvette!"

Mr. Potatoe Head - "It was horrible! They threw me in a box with sand and Lincoln Logs!"

Ham - "I don't think those were Lincoln Logs."

Trials of a maid of honor

2010-06-16T16:00:00.006-05:00

So, my best friend since I was five years old is married. Sunday it happened and now she's his. As the wedding coordinator waved for me to go, I glanced back and looked at Mr. Steve, fighting tears. He winked at me and I walked in. You know how people say their life flashes before their eyes in a dangerous situation? I'm not comparing this to a moment of that kind of intensity, but a flood of moments came to mind as I walked to my station, clutching my daisies. I was thinking of when she accidently burped in my ear when she was trying to tell me a secret. I remembered the multiple clubs we formed and Alisa was ALWAYS the president. Our love of old movies and the dismay of braces. Our crush on the same guy. The tape we made that had two songs on it: 'My Girl' again and again and again and.... 'Space Jam.' Weird, I know. Her lack of knowledge (care?) about time ('Angela! Your Dad is at the front door beeping his horn! Let's GO!' "Hey, Amy? C'mere! Which CDs do you want to take and listen to?"). High school, driver's license, college, brothers.... sleepovers. Disney themed birthday parties. Polly Pockets and Littlest Pet Shop. Barbies when everyone said we were too old for them. Jamming three adult bodies into a two-man tent. Alisa and Angela insisting on turning on flashlights and lighting up said tent when they heard something outside, while I wanted everything dark so IT couldn't see us. Garfield. Shirley Temple. Vowing to move to the mountains where the wild ponies live and let our children grow up in the wind and rain.

The crowd stood and she walked in and I realized that I would never get a lot of that back. I know, I know.... I'm being dramatic. Never, Amy? Really? Well.... yeah. He is her priority now, as he should be. Yes, I'm still the best friend. Yes, we will still spend the night with each other sooner or later. BUT... she's a wife. She has different concentrations, different goals, new dreams. And I am looking forward to watching that development! But... I'm still a little sad. Don't shoot me.

I was also nervous about my assignments. At the dress rehearsal the day before the pastor had been very specific about when I should arrange her train, how I should hand him the ring, to pass off my bouquet before taking hers, arrange the train again, don't drop the ring, take my bouquet back, and of course, don't lock my knees.

I was so nervous. In the prepatorium, as we smoothed, glossed, and arranged, I was trying to decide how to hold Jason's ring. Slide it on my thumb? Put it behind my own engagement ring?Hold it against the stems? Clutch it in my sweaty palm? I finally decided that my middle finger was small enough for it to be pulled off of, yet large enough that it wouldn't just slide down, unbeknown to me until it clanked loudly on the wooden floor.

I was nervous, remember? And my hands were clammy. I went to the bathroom one last time and thought that I had better check to make sure it would slide off as easily as I thought it would.

Oh no. Oh... no. No, no, no, no, no! Come off! Please, come off! Please COME OFF NOW!

Shoooooooooom! PING! The ring shot off of my finger and ricocheted off the concrete block wall and into a corner, nearly ringing the waste basket. My sweet brother-in-law later informed me that titanium, if dropped at the perfect angle with the perfect velocity, can shatter. Well, apparently, these two slams didn't quite match the needed numbers to get a pile of dust. I picked it up with my now cold hands, searched for a scratch, thanked God when there wasn't one, and slipped it onto my little finger. That finger remained curled in a death grip in my palm until the pastor stretched out his hand. I didn't drop it. I'm pretty sure I smiled with relief when I turned it over. And I don't think I arranged her train every time I was supposed to.

I was exhausted.

And I didn't even lock my knees.

i am glistening

2010-06-11T16:18:00.002-05:00

Well.... I was going to post a sweet blog of my best friend of 20 years who is getting married in two days, BUT, as Porter from the Sandlot said:

"This pop ain't workin' Benny! I'm bakin' like a toasted cheeser! It's so hot here!"

I'm going swimming.

And I've only been barefoot for a month

2010-05-18T19:18:00.001-05:00

You know it's time for a pedicure when you step on a tack and don't even bleed because the barb didn't even make it through a callous.

He is still good, even though I am scared

2010-05-13T08:49:00.003-05:00

Dear friends,

I am trying to recruit a prayer army. My mother needs it.

For those of you who didn't know, Mom was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma 18 years ago. After only a couple of chemo treatments, she found out she was pregnant. The doctors said chemo and pregnancy could not occur at the same time so she started the much milder treatment. The cancer disappeared. And Asa was born in July 1992, perfectly normal.... although sometimes I wonder if a chemo treatment did make it to his brain.

In March, we learned that it was back. My mom had a 4 cm tumor pressing against her gallbladder and her lymph nodes were swollen many times beyond their normal size. The doctors started her on a mild, no side effects treatment, hoping that it would work. Her back pain disappeared and we were very hopeful.

Her catscan was yesterday. Her lymph nodes have gone back to normal size, praise the Lord. The tumor, however, has gone from 4 cm to 7cm. The doctor voiced the fear that it might be large-cell, which means aggressive and fast growing. A needle biopsy is scheduled for Monday (Why Monday? Why use words like aggressive and fast growing then delay the test for four days?), with results by Tuesday. If it is what they think it is, chemo will be started. It will probably last for six months. Which means my mother could very well be sick all summer long. And lose her hair. Which is probably one of the most humbling aspects of cancer, especially for girls.

Please pray. Pray not only for healing, but for quiet hearts on our part. That we will draw our strength from God and not from those around us. That we will point to Him with our words and actions.

And after those holy words, I'll confess my selfishness. Pray for me, that I will accept whatever this will change regarding wedding plans. I have been trying not to obsess over what I want... but with the possibility of major changes looming, I find myself clutching onto my desires. It's so stupid.

Thank you so much for the notes and prayers you have already sent our way. They are encouraging to her. And though God already knows how this will play out, we have to pray, see, because He commanded us to. So get on it.

P.S. And don't tell me you've been praying when you haven't.
P.P.S. I love y'all.

out of control registering

2010-05-12T11:26:00.002-05:00

But Jim, we NEED a pineapple slicer.

And an avocado peeler.

And a mini grater that would be perfect for a Barbie.

And Irish coffee mugs. Do they come in pints?

I will never allow my countrymen to go into these schools

2010-05-10T21:12:00.004-05:00

At the dinner table:

Dad: What is George Wallace famous for?

Ryan: FRREEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOM!

....

Ryan: Oh. Wait.

This is the second one in the past week

2010-04-23T11:42:00.003-05:00

And so begin the pre-wedding nightmares:

The doors open... I'm walking into the church. Don't cry, don't cry. And don't look at Dad. As much as he cried at Alisa's, you know looking at him will make you cry. Okay... just sneak a peek. Why hasn't the music started? Why are we walking into silence? And Dad isn't crying at all! In fact, he looks bored! Where is the music?!!

Why are you waiting for me at the end of the aisle? You aren't Jim! I told you, no, I wouldn't go out with you! What is going on? Time out! TIME OUT!!

Home for a reception.... and decorating hasn't even started. Oh, it's been put off until tomorrow. Okay. For some reason, I'm perfectly okay with this. Get up the next morning to a foot of snow. Which, in typical Alabama form, quickly melts. The ground is a big muddy, slushy mess. But the show must go on! Why is the grocery store parking lot fair pulling into the driveway? Hi, Amy! We heard you wanted an outdoor reception so we brought our hastily put-up ferris wheel, wheel-and-spin, and funnel cakes. And vomit bags. This is going to be so much fun!

..... and WAKE UP.

Things to do:
1) Sigh with relief
2) Consider eloping

quote unquote

2010-04-17T09:46:00.003-05:00

Alisa, after meeting Jillian Michaels on a DVD:
"How am I supposed to do a 30 day shred when I need a 30 day recovery?!"

Asa, when we were turning into a gas station:
"Their gas is $2.69... to the ninth power. Whoa. Do these people realize how much they're paying?!"

hey. This is fun.

2010-04-06T15:51:00.002-05:00

I went wedding dress shopping yesterday. As I stepped up onto that box and looked into the triage of mirrors, I thought, "Is this really me?" Why yes. Yes, it is. Playing the most looked-forward to game of dress-up ever. I am going to enjoy it.

There are rules to this game:

1) Don't be obnoxious towards the ones who came with you. They are holding the dresses for you to step into, zipping, lacing, tying, squeezing.... they don't have a place to sit down, they walk with you to the mirror, they go back with you to the dressing room. Don't wear them out. Watch the clock.

2) Be thankful to your the store assistant. She is running her legs off, lugging those fifty pound bags dresses back and forth, all the time remaing pleasant and trying to please you.

3) Don't always believe said store assistant. She will ooh and aah and at the slightest raise of one of your own eyebrows, the tiniest comment about the poofiness of the skirt and she will back down with a, "You know, I agree! This skirt is just too big for YOU. The other one was much more elegant."

4) "This one compliments your figure," is different from, "This one really shows your figure."
I learned this when another future bride received the second comment. Yes. Her figure was definitely showing.

5) Refrain from making comments to other shoppers unless they are sweet. Don't say anthing like, "It's a great dress.... if you don't want anyone to look at your face," or, "You know, if I had what looks like an airbrush tattoo of 'Believe' across my arm in yellow and green and red, I wouldn't choose a strapless."

6) Try not to let your mouth fall open when you see the price tag. Your jaw socket may become unhinged and this will hurt.

7) Don't hog the platform. Yes, this is a day you have looked forward to for years. But, she's been looking forward to it to.

8) Don't bring males. It's just awkward.

9) Don't trust your sense of balance as you are standing on one foot while trying to weave the other into a mass of tulle/silk/lace/taffeta. Pride comes before a fall and you might find yourself entangled and falling towards the wall. Thank goodness the dressing room is tiny and it wasn't faraway.

10) Theme songs from movies such as "Gone with the Wind," "Pride and Prejudice," "Sound of Music," and "Enchanted," add comic relief if you sing them when emerging in a dress that fits one of said movies.

I wanted to be a country vet

2010-03-31T11:32:00.004-05:00

James gave me All Creatures Great and Small for "Valentines Day." I put it in quotation marks because it wasn't really for that day. But people seem confused if I tell them he just gave me a book for absolutely no other reason than he wanted to give me something. It was close to the red hearted day, so there.

For those of you who haven't read James Herriot's adventures in country vetland in the Yorkshire Dale hills.... you should. In my mind, he is the best nonfiction storyteller ever.

1) Of farmers with dead cows trying to convince the insurance company that it was lightning:
" I had heard Siegfriend tell of one old chap who had called him out to verify a lightning death. The long scorch marks on the carcass were absolutely classical and Siegfriend, viewing them, had been almost lyrical. 'Beautiful, Charlie, beautiful, I've never seen more typical marks. But there's just on thing.' He put an arm round the old man's shoulder. 'What a pity you let the candle grease fall on the skin.'
The old man looked closer and thumped a fist into his palm. 'Dang it, you're right, maister! Ah've mucked t'job up. And ah took pains ower it an' all - been on for dang near an hour!' He walked away muttering. He showed no embarrassment, only disgust at his own technological shortcomings. "

2) Of being called out after the farmer had tried his own treatment:
"He had been with us for over a year but it was an uncomfortable relationship because Siegfriend had offended him deeply on his very first visit. It was to a moribund horse, and Mr. Sidlow, describing the treatment to date, announced that he had been pushing raw onions up the horse's rectum; he couldn't understand why is was so uneasy on its legs. Siegfriend had pointed out that if he were to insert a raw onion in Mr. Sidlow's rectum, he, Mr. Sidlow, would undoubtedly be uneasy on his legs."

3) Of shouted phrases that made the author laugh:
"The milker was an old man and he was having trouble. He was sitting well into the cow, his cloth-capped head buried in her flank, the bucket gripped tightly between his knees, but the stool kept rocking about as the cow fidgeted and weaved. Twice she kicked the bucket over and she had an additional little trick of anointing her tail with particularly liquid feces then lashing the old man across the face with it.
Finally, he could stand it no longer. Leaping to his feet he dealt a puny blow at the cow's craggy back and emitted an exasperated shout.
'Stand still, thou shittin' awd bovril!' "

Good stories. Yes.

With all my heart, yes

2010-03-15T22:05:00.004-05:00

So.... not only does he love me, he wants me to be his wife.

He says he owes me fourteen kids and two oreos.

The ring is beautiful. He picked it out by himself.

But more importantly, Jim's heart's desire is Christ... and then me.

I am so glad I'm not first.

So, hold fast to Christ. And if I may be so bold.... please pray for us.

siiiiiiiigh

2010-03-12T19:29:00.002-06:00

Dear dress,
If I were you, I would be sold too.

Sincerely,

Amy

So far so good

2010-02-27T15:43:00.001-06:00

Hey, ambulance drivers can be good-looking. Don't laugh at her female tendencies. I would love to meet this child.

reporting off

2010-02-25T21:43:00.004-06:00

I am beginning to realize that no matter what kind of day you have had on a hospital floor, when it is time for the shift change.... everything happens. Room 222, who hasn't pooped since his third birthday, suddenly develops explosive diarrhea. Someone's heart stops beating (how dare they?). Maintenance cannot figure out how to make the fire alarms go off so the big, swinging doors keep opening and shutting automatically while we have to go around and shut all patient doors. After shutting said doors, Ms. 289 beings to shriek, "OPEN MY DOOR! OPEN MY DOOR!" So, very professionally we explain to her that no, we can't open her door. Ring ring. This is Amy. Oh, he just yanked his IV from his arm? ... and he wants his IV pain medicine? Of course.

Five minutes before reporting off:
"Hey Mrs. Hoffleman (please know I made that up), what's up?"
"I need you to change my bag."
"Wow. Already? I just changed it.... let me see.... um... there really isn't that much in there."
"I know. But I wanted you to change it one more time before you leave for the night, since you do such a good job."
Yay. Just like Christmas.

but i don't need to

2010-02-22T20:07:00.001-06:00

I made supper tonight.

Mom - "Amy, if you ever need to impress a boy.... don't make cornbread."

i will

2010-02-11T20:07:00.003-06:00

I know, I know... I haven't blogged in a while. Okay, over a month.
The truth is, I haven't been doing much of anything. People keep telling me, "You've worked hard! You deserve a break." I gladly believed that excuse for a while. Well, it's been 6 months since I've graduated and 4 since I've passed the NCLEX. Time to wake up. The Sabbatical is over, Amy. Just last week I asked Mom and Dad to come up with things they would like for me to do, i.e. large projects, school duties with Asa and Anna, books to read.... whatever. I've been lounging for 6 months and it has reached the shaming point. My piano skills are digging holes, my time with God is short, my time with my littls sister is reluctant, I'm not fixing our room, I'm not reading good books, I'm not stretching my mind, I'm not taking over meals ... yuck.

So.... with a lot of effort, this sloth is going to get her rear in gear and it's going to start by getting up in the morning. Yeah, I've worked three 13 hour shifts in a row. I'm young. I'll survive. So, pray for me please. Seriously. Because my days have not glorified Christ recently.

1) I need a schedule
2) I need a budget
3) I need to take over meals big time
4) I need to love Anna
5) I need to tackle hard books (Narnia is not hard... this will be tough)
6) I want to get in shape, seriously
7) These are not in order of importance because I want to grow closer to Jesus

And I just realized that if I'm really as tired as I say I am and am going to get up up up in the morning, then I need to go to bed. Now.
Good night.

P.S. The boy loves me. He told me so.

Who's in the doghouse?

2009-12-25T07:47:00.002-06:00

Last night:

Ryan: Let's go squirrel hunting in the morning!"
Jeff: Yeah!!
Alisa: Hey! You've got to have Christmas with ME in the morning!
...
Jeff: Oh yeah. Dang. I forgot.

notes are blurring

2009-12-18T19:33:00.003-06:00

Before the funeral:

Me- I absolutely will not cry before the ceremony. I have to play the piano and I need to see the music to do that. "Grandma, how did you sleep?"

Grandma - It.. I ... slept okay. It was off and on. But... but then I woke up this morning and... and... we've always played this game. Whoever wakes up first will reach over and touch the other one and say, "I touched you first today," and... I... reached over and touched his pillow before I realized that....well... he's not there anymore."

Me - Not cry? What kind of idiot comes up with a dumb plan like that?

Joy in the morning

2009-12-10T12:21:00.005-06:00

"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning."
And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.
~ The Last Battle, C.S. Lewis

My joy for my grandpa is incredible.

jeep...SUV.... whatever

2009-11-30T13:57:00.002-06:00

I am currently looking for a new automobile
And I have discovered that I know absolutely nothing about the things.

Zero. Zilch. Noodle.

would you like some cheese with that whine?

2009-11-24T15:44:00.003-06:00

I just read this online. This woman sounds like a real walk in the park. I hope the family enjoys their last Christmas without her being officially a part of it.

Dear Prudence,
Every year my fiance's family takes a portrait together and mails it out as their holiday card. His parents included their new son-in-law when their daughter got married. This is the first holiday since my fiance and I got engaged, and they have already commented on needing a bigger lens to fit everyone in this year. However, I have no interest in being in their picture this year or any year. They sign the card "The Smiths," but I have no plans to change my name and don't feel this last name would be mine. I plan to decline to be in the photo since I have always looked forward to having my own family and sending our own pictures to family and friends. How can I gently say to my husband's family, "Time to cut the umbilical cord" and let your children start their own holiday family traditions? The thought of the upcoming family photo is making me sick and filling me with anger.
—Won't Say "Cheese"

Dear Won't,
It used to be said that when certain hunter-gatherer tribes were first exposed to photography, they believed that if a picture was taken of them, it would steal their soul. You're probably aware, however, that a photograph of you with your future in-laws will not forever capture your image and make it impossible for you to send a photograph of yourself for your own holiday card. Speaking of which, your fiance's family is going to conclude that you're quite the card when you tell them you're not going to be in their picture, you will never consider yourself to be part of the "Smith" family, and that you believe your future mother- and father-in-law are infantilizing their grown children. Everyone will be filled with seasonal joy that you'll be around for the holidays for the rest of their lives. There are two approaches you could take here. One would be to vent the rage you are feeling over your fiance's family wanting to include you in their tradition. That might solve everyone's long-term problem by making you a short-timer. (However, if your fiance hasn't figured out by now that you have some issues, he must have issues of his own.) Or you could spend some time figuring out why a gracious and inclusive gesture from your in-laws-to-be makes you act like a petulant baby and work on growing up yourself.
—Prudie

I wonder.... when the "Dear Abbys" write back this harshly, do the complainers actually listen?

You want the beanie... you eat the cereal

2009-11-21T08:22:00.003-06:00

I have discovered oatmeal. And I'm scared. Because I like it. And all I can think about is Calvin, cramming Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs down his throat in his haste to get enough box tops for a beanie with a propeller.... and that I use to think that his cereal sounded good.

I'm growing up.

annd.... SQUIRREL!

2009-11-14T08:58:00.002-06:00

I watched UP last night. You know, the newest Pixar movie. I cried like a baby. Multiple tears plus snot drippings. Ridiculous.

I know it's the music. I barely cried in "I Am Legend" when his dog died because the violins didn't start in time.

from the Preacher's kid

2009-11-09T16:42:00.002-06:00

While sitting around the campfire, Nathan picked up a hot coal with tongs and said:

"Put this to your lips. It's Biblical."

oh, THAT'S reassuring

2009-10-29T21:40:00.002-05:00

Asa, coming in from the basement: "Uh... if the smoke alarm goes off, nothing's burning."

Wild Things in Wonderland

2009-10-22T11:09:00.008-05:00

In case you don't remember every single one of my past blogs, I was very excited about this movie.
Yes. Was. I'm sorry, KR... I didn't like it.

Do you remember watching Alice in Wonderland as a child? Did it bother you? That movie scared me when I was little.... the drowning doorknob, the way she tore up the house when she got big, the path-sweeping dog, the oysters who got eaten, the chaos of the mad hatter...the helter-skelter of it all just bothered me. Watching it with an adult brain just makes me think, "What were these people on?" Although the mad hatter cracks me up now("Mustard?! Oh yes!! Mustard!"). And by the way, they are making a real version of it. And guess who plays the Mad Hatter? Yeah, I know THAT was hard. Thanks, Mr. Depp. I'm going to have nightmares over your getup.

Anyway... Wild Things was kind of like that. Ten minutes into it and I was like, "This had better get a lot better." What exactly was the monster's problem? Why was he bashing through their houses? What happened to Bob and Terry? Why were they even brought into it? I got the whole "The wild things are representing the problems the boy is experiencing" drift, but besides that... nothing was really solved. Max left and I don't think the wild things were any better. There were some rather dark moments I wasn't expecting for a kids movie: the threat to eat Max, the chase through the woods, the arm/wing being torn off, the hiding place INSIDE the monster... weird.

But, that being said... I'll still be your friend if you like it.

P.S. The soundtrack, however, was moving.

In summary

2009-10-16T17:12:00.004-05:00

This week, I sat in a classroom for 7-8 hours everyday, from Monday through Friday. But, for the first time ever, I am being paid WHILE sitting there. It's a pretty strange feeling.
I learned various things. Things like:

1) Stupid errors kill patients everyday
2) I am now scared out of my mind
3) Some people think they are allergic to their water pill because it makes them pee
4) If you figure out a way to go around the hospital's mistake-flagging-computer, they will hang you out to dry for the lawyers to bite your legs off
5) I am considering using slip knots to restrain my children
6) All hospital mannequins look like they died in a silent scream
7) Never rush into the MRI room with a fire extinguisher in your hand. The magnet will yank it away and it will rocket down the tunnel and probably kill the patient
8) Also, don't bring any guns to the hospital

AAUUGGHH!!

2009-10-02T21:06:00.003-05:00

Thank you, God, for allowing me to pass the NCLEX!! Because I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

I cannot believe it. I am done with school... for real.

Um... now there is nothing between me and getting a real job. Yikes.

Here comes a flood...doo dum doo dum

2009-09-26T10:56:00.003-05:00

Our pastor last Sunday: "Lord, thank you for the rain. Personally, I think we've had enough, but obviously You are the One who decides how much is enough."

Dude! Whodamastah?

2009-09-20T15:46:00.005-05:00

This may be immature to post. But... I know guys will appreciate it for the subject matter and girls will laugh at the contortions of this guy's face. His delight at making such an incredibly long burp is great.

"Got a penny?"

2009-09-15T14:36:00.004-05:00

Told to me by Anna:

Anna: Mom? While I'm ironing, can I watch a movie?
Mom: Sure.
Anna: Cinderella Man?
Mom: No, watch something light.
... ... ...
Mom: I know! Let's watch a Band of Brothers segment!

I don't know. The lightness in Band of Brothers can be overwhelming sometimes.

Eat your heart out sartorialist

2009-09-14T14:02:00.003-05:00

This is my favorite guy get-up. Seriously. Asa thinks I'm making fun. But I'm not. I really like the way it looks.

hip hip hooray

2009-09-05T12:48:00.003-05:00

Another conversation. I'm sorry if you're getting annoyed with them.

Jeff: What is it that happens in October?
Me: My birthday!!
Jeff: No. Not that. Ummmm....?
Me and Anna: Mom's birthday?
Alisa: Mom and Dad's anniversary?
Jeff: No. That's not it.
Me: Tiffany's baby?
Alisa: Ginny's anniversary?
Jeff: Oh yeah! Deer season! That's it!

May I laugh now?

2009-09-01T15:31:00.003-05:00

Ryan: "OW!"

Me, turning around: "What happened?"

Ryan: "I thought you were looking at me, so I ran into the door to make you laugh. But then, I turned around and you were watching Caleb."

munch munch

2009-08-28T14:21:00.002-05:00

I took my grandparents to the doctor's office yesterday. We stopped and picked up sandwiches and drove to their house to eat them. This was a portion of our conversation:

Pepaw: I have to get mine checked... it's a... a.... um....
Me: Blood pressure?
Pepaw: Naw.... a... it's a .... well dang. I forgot.
Me: I have no idea.
Pepaw: Your daddy has one. He gets it checked every month...um...
Me: My daddy? Every month?
Memaw walks over from the phone.
Pepaw: What's that thing called? I get it checked every month on the radio?
Me: Radio?
Memaw: Your pacemaker.
Pepaw: Yeah! Pacemaker. Anyway, I get it checked every month with a radio over the phone. It's a new way. Your grandpa has to go into the doctor every month.
Me: Oh! Grandpa, not daddy!
Pepaw: Yeah. No.
Mewaw: We just have to hook it up to the phone and they can check it... every six months.
Me: Every six months?
Memaw: Yeah.
Pepaw: Yeah. Oh.... I said every month didn't I?
Memaw: Yes. Every month.
Pepaw: Anyway, your Grandpa, he has to go in every month but I only have to go in every six months.

Thees hos been a gude convehsation.

Most people call him Whitt

2009-08-21T14:43:00.004-05:00

I am sitting in my room hoping that a 3 year old will go to sleep. We're going on two hours here. But Mom invited other moms to a lunch in our house and me, Asa, and Anna have been banned to the our rooms in the basement. One of the women brought her child. Who always takes a nap after lunch. Always barring today, of course.

"I have to go pee-pee."
"No, you just went."
"Well, then I have to go poo-poo."
"No you don't, babe. Go to sleep."

So, we are listening to Adventures in Odyssey. I'd forgotten how much I love them.

"Amy, I had an accident."
"On my bed?! In your pull-ups?!"
"No. Once, beside my bed and I fell down."

Connie, Whit, Barth and Rodney Rathbone, Eugene, Blackguard.... many, many childhood car rides were shortened by this company.

"Can I have a Barbie?"
"No, I don't think we have them anymore."
"I played with them the last time I was here."

I've caught my 21, 19, and 17 year old brothers listening to them before. Amazing how they engage 3 year olds and adults.

"Amy?"
"Yes?"
"I really like your fan. And your laptop."
"Thank you."
"I am going to tell you a story."

I have to go. Connie is teaching Eugene how to ask Katrina out.

When Kathryn G. visits

2009-08-15T20:06:00.004-05:00

"If I was a bad person, I think I would steal babies."
I would be an arsonist.

"If I were a retarded person... I mean, you know, special... I would do origami."
I would throw paint on sheets.

BBC is too good at character portrayal

2009-08-12T23:44:00.004-05:00

Willoughby is a scoundrel of scoundrels. I hate him. And Lucy Steele makes me twitch. Mrs. John Dashwood I would gladly poison and Eleanor's strength makes me cry.

post script

2009-08-10T23:54:00.002-05:00

It's my 160th post. Ta-daaa!!

Oh yeah. I have a BSN in nursing now, which means I am through with nursing school. I don't think it's really hit me, yet.

I say this not to preach, but because I forget it all of the time: All glory to God... because I still don't know what a nurse is supposed to do in most situations. But, go ahead... ask me for medical advice.

If I had two garage doors....

2009-08-06T16:12:00.002-05:00

... and neighbors to see them, I would do this.

We are currently 384,000 years in debt

2009-08-04T21:03:00.003-05:00

If you want to watch the ticking numbers of our country's national debt, go here.

My parents subscribe to WORLD magazine and there was an explanation of the number one trillion. I mean, we hear it used all of the time... but I didn't realize how big this number was until I read this.

Let's say these numbers were seconds and we are rewinding back in time.

1 million = 12 days ago

1 billion = 30 years ago

1 trillion = 30,000 B.C.

14 days

2009-07-27T21:53:00.002-05:00

I know. I know. I have been neglectful.

But, bear with me as I (hopefully) wind down my school years. I shouldn't even be doing this.

I promise, I'll be back.

i can still smell it

2009-07-17T23:44:00.002-05:00

MRSA + HIV + C. Diff = Do not touch me until I have scrubbed with a Brillo pad

Dear precious family,

2009-07-14T16:13:00.003-05:00

I am so homesick I can barely stand it.

I miss people singing at the top of their lungs, huge, garden dinners, picking blueberries, and tripping over Jack. I miss Dad kissing Mom in the kitchen as we all pretend not to watch. I miss sharing my bedroom with my little sister, my opinion being asked by my brothers, and seeing Alisa and Jeff on Sundays. I've missed knowing my way around in the kitchen and talking with Mom. I miss Dad coming up the stairs in the evening, home for the night.

I cannot wait to see you all tomorrow.

Love, Amy

He's not a thriller

2009-07-10T01:04:00.002-05:00

Can I just say that I really don't care HOW Michael Jackson died?

I mean, why is it such a "big" news story that he was possibly, maybe, kind of addicted to who knows what? Anyone surprised over this needs to pull their head out the sand.

Roger that

2009-06-29T22:28:00.002-05:00

While struggling to find something in the fire-hazard closet under the steps which actually ended up being in my own closet (which was where is was supposed to be):

Ryan, coming into the basement - Caleb? Are you on a mission?
... ...
Ryan - Caleb? Are you?
Caleb - MEOOOOW!!! PPFFFFFFTTTTTT!!! HIYAAAAH!!
Ryan - Were you on a mission?
Caleb - Yeah. I was scaring the cat.
Ryan - No! A mission on the playstation!!

ahahahaha! I mean... oh, how cute.

2009-06-26T14:26:00.002-05:00

Two baby names I have learned while at the hospital:

"Sheahmiracle" - Yes. She is.

"Abcde" - Pronounced abb-si-dee.

And I am not kidding.