June 30th

Another month bites the dust.  I cannot believe that this year is half over.  It seems like only yesterday it started....and now I am looking at starting school again.  Griefus...time really does fly when you get older. Frank sat home Monday and Tuesday while Mary and I were exploring in Florida....so today he wanted to go to LaGrange and check it out.  He originally wanted to go to Newnan...but I am truly tired of riding in a car.  So off to LaGrange we went.  We checked out their big mall....big is a relative term I have decided.  It was smaller than Auburn's mall...and I thought it was tiny.  We drove around town, I showed him LaGrange College.  There was a time in my life I actually wanted be a student there....didn't happen....but I am learning as I get older that things happen for a reason...and God knows the reason....it is not for me to know always.  We ate supper at Ryan's, which I might add is one of my least favorite places to eat.  I thought this place had gone out of business....curse you Ryans.  I HATE buffet places.  I hate food that is left out, I hate serving myself, I hate that people sneeze and cough near the food.  Buffets are gross to me...but Frank...he LOVES them.  I always eat more than I need.  I am a portion control kind of girl.  I want the waiter/waitress to bring me the dish I order...and I then have the choice of eating it all...or asking for a doggie bag.  We DID find one cool thing in LaGrange....a candy store...right on the square downtown. They have old fashioned kinds of candies....the kind you can't get at your local pack-a-sack.  We purchased a few goodies for later and headed home.  The entire trip was 2 hours and 20 minutes.  Next outing is Newnan for sure.  We did try a back road coming home and shaved a bit of time off our trip.  It was fun checking out the local scenery.  Happy Wednesday to all.

Things That Matter, Things That Don't

My friend Mary and I went to Panama City Monday morning to look for oil for a school project she is working on.  Earlier she burned me a CD she got when she went on her Emmaus Walk.  I put it in the minute I pulled out of my driveway in Rock Mills and made it all the way to track number 9 before I got to her house.  I told her I loved the CD as we stowed my backpack in her car.  When we left her driveway we started the CD over again.  I loved songs number 1 - 9....when we got to track number 13 I thought my heart was being ripped from my chest.  I had never heard the song that was playing and finally just looked out the window at the landscape on Hwy 231 between Montgomery, AL and Red Level.  I heard a sniffle and cut a glance over at my friend...and tears were rolling down her face as well.  This song is not about me....but I have lived this song in several versions.  The first verse tells of a father who works hard and is underappreciated...and realizes when he gets home and hears his child say, "Daddy's Home" what is important in life.  I learned that lesson a long time ago....30 years ago to be exact.  When I had Kat.  I learned that she was the most important thing to me...and no matter what life or work dealt me....she loved me....sometimes in spite of myself.  The second verse talks about a girl who carried a grudge against a dad who had walked out on her 30 years ago.  My dad NEVER walked out on me....but when my brother died...my mom left us (mentally) when she pulled inside herself to deal with the death of a child.  I did not understand it then....and I am not sure I understand it now....but I do know losing Kat would certainly break my heart....the difference here is that I know Kat is a Christian...and so am I....so we have someone else in our corner and we are not bearing something like this alone.  Kat's father (the ex) has had a couple of strokes and his health is terrible.  Kat loves him in spite of all the times he has shunned her.  She will have no regrets ever....there will never be any should of, could of, or would of's in her vocabulary.  The last verse deals with me...there are times when I think I can do things on my own....but I usually learn quickly...I can't.  I have to have somebody much bigger than me....carrying me.  It has been a tough lesson for me....but throughout my 56 years of life....I have learned....there are things that matter....and things that don't. 
So I thought I would share this Rascal Flats song with you today.  Tomorrow....is another day and I will post about the beach trip....and just for your information...it was strictly business....we never even put a suit on.  Happy Tuesday to all!

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Airplane Adventures

Beeeeeppp Beepppp went the alarm clock at four in the morning.

I groaned as I slapped it quiet. It was way too early to be awake. And to think, some people wake up at four in the morning on purpose to work out. There is no way I could wake up at 4 in the morning to work out. Or any other time, really.

We had to wake up early to make a flight. I stumbled into the children's room and the second I rubbed Tommy's back, he bolted out of bed.

"Is it time?" he asked with way too much enthusiam for 403 in the morning.

"It's time," I confirmed.

Then I went in to get Natalie and she mumbled, "Airplane?"

"Yup, we have to drive to the airplane."

She seemed a little out of it. I brought her downstairs and she blinked at the kitchen floor for a few minutes going, "Floor? Floor?" over and over again. Poor lass, she isn't a morning person either.

Or so I thought. Five minutes later and she was racing around the living room with Tommy. Where they find the energy that early in the morning is beyond me. I sat blinking on the couch, my mouth agape as if I wasn't quite sure what was going on.

When we got to the airport I was a little more alert but in desperate need for caffeine. After I got a Diet Coke I gripped it close to me as if it were a priceless object. Then I walked Tom and the kids to their gate--yes, just their gate as they were traveling to North Carolina without me while I visited my friend Jennifer in Ohio. (I'm re-joining them on Thursday.)

After I saw them off, I headed to my own gate where I cracked open a book (Emily Giffin's newest) and relished in the silence. Of course twenty minutes in and I was missing my kids when I saw other passengers approach with theirs in tow.

But the thing is, I can't escape kids. Because guess who I sat by on the plane?

Yup. A kid. About eight years old. His mother and two siblings were sitting behind us. I was smack dab in between him and this old lady, who promptly turned the overhead air conditioner on high. I immediately got cold but what could I do? You can't mess with old ladies or else they can smack you over the head with their purse or something. And also, the old lady, who I dubbed Cold Lady since she cranked up the air, closed the window. I mean, hello? I like looking out the window to make sure the wings aren't smoking so we don't crash to our deaths. But again, I couldn't do a thing because I was stuck in the middle.

And then there was the kid. Oh, the kid.

See, I started to read my Cosmo magazine and the kid leaned into my personal bubble and looked at though he were reading it. Obviously it's not appropriate for kids so I tried to tilt away but then that meant I was in the Cold Lady's air. So there I was trying to read Cosmo with the magazine mostly shut so the kid couldn't see. I was reading all about 99 New Sex Facts and yes, in a few years the kid might appreciate what he read but still, I didn't want his Mom to lecture me about appropriate reading.

Still, the kid seemed to leer at me. Where were his video games for craps sake? Why was he bugging me? Did his Mom forget to buy him stuff to keep him entertained? It certainly wasn't my job.

"Doug, here's your book," the Mom said, as if reading my thoughts. She poked her head up and handed her kid a chapter book. Then her eyes rested on the magazine that I was reading and she frowned as though I were the one at fault. As though I were the pervert.

If she had said anything I'd have been tempted to be all, "I paid good money for this crappy seat and I'll read what I darn well please."

In the end I put the magazine away and read my book because I'm too nice. And because I didn't want the kid to say at dinner, "What a g-spot?"

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

**I'm posting this early since I'll be traveling tomorrow. I'm gone for the week so I'll post when I can!**


I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To think Amanda Bynes who retired from acting at the ripe age of 24, will return to the acting world in a matter of years.


To be a pretty crappy packer. Seriously, if I visit my Mom she usually refolds everything for me.


To be excited to visit Wilmington, North Carolina because Dawson’s Creek was filmed there. I could pass a spot and be all, “That’s Joey’s wall that Pacey bought for her!”


To also be excited to visit Wilmington, North Carolina because the area reminds me of a Nicholas Sparks novel. I’ve already said Tom can pretend to be Noah from The Notebook and I’ll naturally be Allie. He says no, that his name is Tom thank you very much and he’s not about to pretend to be someone else. Rude.


To be scared of flying. I shut my eyes when the plane first takes off because the experts say the first ten minutes of takeoff is the most important—if you pass ten minutes, then you’ll probably be okay.


To avoid the airplane bathrooms. The silver toilet can be quite traumatizing.


To want to beat up that guy in the Staples commercial that shrieks, “That’s a low price!”


To have totally called the breakup between Jake and Vienna (they were on The Bachelor.) Oh, and to be nosy and wonder what happened. Rumors say Vienna cheated. Totally not surprised.


To have to remember NOT to stick a bite of food in your mouth while visiting your husband’s family since they pray before they eat.


To know that you could never be on The Amazing Race ‘cause traveling makes you a tad cranky.

Our Vacation Begins....

So here’s the thing.

We leave for our trip on Tuesday.

But I’m not going with Tom and the kids in the beginning.

I’m going to visit my best friend in Ohio. She lived across the street from me when we were stationed in England.

Granted, I’ll only get to see her for two days but I’ll take it. See, Tom’s Mom used to live in Ohio and Jennifer, that’s who I’m going to visit, only lived a few hours away. So we made plans to see each other. Then Tom’s Mom decided to go to North Carolina and we had already made plans so I wasn’t about to give them up.

So in the end, I guess it’s a better outcome for me.

Two days without kids?

Sweeettt.

A flight by myself without having to worry about giving a kid a snack or telling another kid to keep it down? Bliss.

I’m all ready to go but as I said before, I suck at packing. I packed for the kids and am trying to explain to Tom what outfits go together so he doesn’t put Natalie in pink pants and a yellow shirt like he’s done before.

“And this,” I said lifting up an adorable pair of Gymboree shorts, “go with this shirt,” I continued waving a Gymboree shirt in the air.

Tom concentrated on picking his toe cheese.

“Did you hear me? You are going to be in charge of dressing Natalie for two days, you know.” I bit my lip to keep from adding, “It’s an important undertaking.”

“I’ll just let her run around in her diaper,” Tom said, chuckling. I really don’t think he was joking.

“Um,” I said. “No. And whatever you do, don’t put her in her 4th of July outfit. I will be putting her in that on the 4th of July.”

Tom blinked at me as though I were speaking in foreign tongues.

“This is her 4th of July outfit,” I said, waving around the red, white and blue ensemble. “Do not put it on her.”

Tom scratched his cheek. “And if I do, what then? Will the world end?”

Ugh.

“Just don’t do it,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I like to coordinate her barrette with her outfit, as well as her hair ties,” I said.

“If I remember to even do her hair,” Tom answered flippantly.

Oh for the love of chocolate.

“Just....keep her alive. That’s all I ask. Just keep her alive.” I gave up. Tom obviously didn’t get it.

Did I mention that we have to wake up at FOUR in the morning on Tuesday? FOUR IN THE MORNING? Have I mentioned that I am not a morning person?

But.

As I mentioned before I’ll be flying to see Jennifer without kids.

This means I can…SLEEP on the plane. Like Tom does! I’m not kidding. We’ll be on the flight and he’ll just fall asleep and leave me to tend to the kids. One time I threw a Cheerio at his rude sleeping face, I was so frustrated.

So that’s why I don’t feel guilty making him fly with the kids on his own.

Have fun, Tom.

I know I will.

Oh I Wish It Would Rain in Rock Mills

My blogging buddy Mary in Knoxville did a post wishing it would rain and I have to follow suite.  It has rained all around Rock Mills....but not in it.  Friday when we went to Kat's birthday party in Montgomery we were in a monsoon...in Montgomery, Alexander City, and even Newsite(25 miles from Rock Mills)...but when we got home...nothing.  Sunday it rained on us again in New Site and Alex City...when we went to check on my mom.....but...when we got home...very little...more like a dripping faucet.  We need rain...I need rain....I am living next door to a hay field...and I need some relief here!  I wish it would just rain steady....all day long.  BTW....Randy, my cousin's husband came home from the Emory Hospital today....he will have to go back for blood work on Thursday....and then back to start round two on Saturday or Monday....but the kids are coming home for the weekend...with those precious grandbabies...and Randy is resting in his recliner.....a little thinner on top from the chemo...but home...and enjoying the tree house.

Do You Know What a Pounding Is?

Well, I learned something new at church today.  When we got to church this morning I noticed food items in some boxes in the foyer.  I thought to myself, "how nice, they have a food pantry."  After church I learned that those items were for us.  The church had a "pounding" for us today.  I had never heard of this custom, thought it might be a Rock Mills things, came home and researched it and found out that it actually dates back to the Quakers.  How cool is that?  So I just had to share this something new I have learned. I had no idea what it meant, “A Pounding?”  My mind immediately went to fist fighting. I was not sure if it is a mountain culture thing or a southern thing or old church thing? But I learned it is definitely a HOSPITALITY thing and a wonderful one that at.   In all the research I did on the subject I discovered that they are quite popular for newlyweds and as bridal type showers.  I remembered back to my young married days and we were broke as haints.  On my first grocery trip I spent a grand total of 50.00 for a family of four for a week.  I was shocked at spending that amount of money.  Ronnies mom took me grocery shopping the next week and bought us meat.  SHE spent 100.00 on JUST MEAT!  We could have used a good old fashioned pounding back then...that is for sure.  Anyways, I thought you would be interested in this (if you did not already know, I didn't). I even found directions on how to give an Old Fashioned Pounding as a party.
1. Giving a pounding is an old-fashioned way to help someone by stocking their pantry with non-perishables foods or cleaning supplies. Usually a pounding is given to a bride and groom or family who just built a new home. The pounding can be mentioned on the invitation for the bridal shower or housewarming party.  Or, in a small community...just a few phone calls/emails will do it.
2. Mention the pounding on the invitations to the bridal shower or housewarming party. It could read, “We are going to bless Karen and Brother Frank with an old fashioned pounding. In addition to your shower/housewarming gift, please bring a non-perishable food item or cleaning supply from your own home. Contact hostess if you have any questions.” List any food/cleanser allergies here.  We did not get gifts of stuff...but we got a trunk load of food.  In the bags there were fresh corn, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, as well as staple goods.  It was so exciting.
3. Prepare to have people ask you what a pounding is. In addition to describing what a pounding is, remind them that they don’t need to buy anything else, but just to give something they have extra. For instance, if they have 3 cans of green beans, they can give 1 can.  The original Quaker term came from....giving a pound...a pound of corn, a pound of meal, oats, etc.  Kind of catchy term....and real original don't you think? Now if you are really having a party...for say a new bride...you might do some major decorating.  This stuff was just waiting on us in the foyer.  Rock Mills UMC has been so kind to us.  This was AWESOME!
4. When setting up for the party, decorate grocery bags or boxes with leftover party decorations. Set the bags or boxes in a place that is convenient for the guests. Under the gift table is generally not a good idea, as the grocery bags or boxes can get in the way.
5. After the guest of honor has opened the other gifts, announce that they are being blessed with one more gift. Point out the groceries and explain that they are being pounded.
In the movie "Cross Creek," based on the life of writer Margery Rawlings ("The Yearling"), there was a reference to a "pound party." The guests each brought a pound of some food item. (I do recall this! I believe she brought a pound cake)  The origin of the term "food pounding" usually describes when a pastor is given food from the congregation.  When I did my research I found it under "pounding." It's like a gift "shower" or party. Also called "pound party." It is very common in eastern Alabama and western Georgia...and guess where Rock Mills is?  You've got it....it is 5 miles from the Georgia line...about as east as you can get. "The custom of sending to the minister's home groceries, preserves, etc., each participant being suppose to give a pound."  I like this custom.  We have now been here about a week and a half and the community has been so kind and loving.  I think I am going to like it here.  BTW...I sang in the choir today.  It was fun and has been a long time since I sang from a choir loft.  I loved every moment of it!

Pie Daddy

My nephew, David and his wife Susanna have a precious son.  His name is Wheeler and he is adorable.  He reminds me so much of his dad when he was little.  They live in Louisville, KY and we don't get to see them very often....so Susanna uploads videos on You Tube and we all watch them and experience Wheeler growing up.  On June 23rd she posted this video of Wheeler and David enjoying  a bowl of Cherry (red) pie.  It is absolutely a scream so I thought I would share it with you all today.  Enjoy "Pie Daddy" and thanks Susanna for making my day.  Love you guys a bunch!  Can't wait to see you on the 4th.

The Sasserlite

The picture to the left is my very first car.  It was a 1969 Plymouth Satellite 383.  That car could fly.  It had Crager mags with knock-off spinners.  I thought I was the stuff.  My dad and I went to get me a car around my 18th birthday.  We were going after something sensible.  Sensible?  What 18 year old is sensible?  I WANTED a Kelly green Oldsmobile 442 convertible with white interior.  The local Olds place had one...My dad and I were on our way there when we passed this car on Dixie Hwy(US1).  He wheeled into the parking lot of the used car place and about 30 minutes later...I drove out with one of the finest pieces of metal Detroit ever made.  My mother was shocked when I drove up in this red fireball.  Remember, I grew up in the era of muscle cars and street racing...and believe me I did a bit of that.  In the first three months I owned the car I actually had to get a new set of tires from burning rubber at a red light.  It had so much power.  My friend Carol, dated Jeff...and Jeff had a red Camaro...it was hot too.  I have some wonderful memories of growing up in South Florida...and that car.  I had it a little bit over a year(age 19)....I was rear-ended while waiting for a traffic cop to go by so I could turn into my sub-division.  A Volkswagon Beetle hit me from behind.  It hit me so hard that it knocked the gas tank completely off the car and moved me 168 feet from where I was initially sitting.  The girl driving the VW went through the windshield and ended up on the back of my car.  There were some construction workers nearby and they had to bust the glass on my window to get me out of my car.  I was wearing my seatbelt(remember...they were lapbelts back in the day)...but it kept me in the car.  I hit my face on the steering wheel, had two black eyes, a broken nose, and a fat lip, pulled mastoid muscle...but I was alive.  The girl who hit me lived too....and had over 100 stitches on her face.  My beautiful Sasserlite was totaled.  I was distraught.  Sigh!  Do you have a favorite old car story?  I actually have several I can tell you...but I will save them for another day.

The Wonky Week

I did not have the best week.

For starters, some kid kept standing on his play house and would stare into our house. It’s a good thing we wore pants all this week.




Natalie rudely crushed her muffin onto the floor. Why won’t she eat?




The cinnamon buns somehow exploded when I opened the can (I ate them anyway.)




Natalie had a ‘tude and still refuses to use the potty.




And the movers came to take away Tom’s stuff that he’ll be bringing to Korea. It just made everything real. He’s leaving.



But.

Next week we’ll be going on vacation to North Carolina for a week. We’re visiting Tom’s family so he can say goodbye before he goes to Korea.

I am looking forward to that.

However.



I suck at packing.

Help.

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In other news, Shell asked me to write a post for her BFF Feature.



I was greatly flattered. Shell rocks!

Thursdays Travels

This morning Frank and I got up and I cooked my first official breakfast in the new house.  I scrambled some eggs, nuked some of the Clark Brothers bacon, cooked some canned bisquits, and fried up some of the Clark Brothers sausage.  This was a truckers breakfast.  After we ate and I tidied up the kitchen we left for Atlanta.  I have not been to see Randy since they moved him to Emory Hospital and today was the day.  The drive up was fun.  We took Hwy 34 through Franklin, GA (where I spent my first honeymoon), through Newnan, Ga (one of my favorite places)....in fact if you are ever there...you need to get off I-85 at the Hwy 34 exit and go eat at the Dwarf House Chickp-fil-A.  It is the cutest place.  In Newnan we got on I-85 and headed north.  The ride was uneventful...even for Atlanta traffic.  We got off on exit 248-C and the Keystone Cops adventure began.  We went to the right....like the Mapquest map said....and then...we got to the Carter Center...made three wrong turns...saw the Carter Center three different times....and finally got on the road we were supposed to be on.  Hwy 42 EAST.  I thought we would never get where we were going...and even once we did...I was not sure we would ever get inside.  It is a huge complex...with a Children's Hospital attached.....and several campuses.  Randy is in the Cancer part.  We parked in the first self-parking lot we found...and realized...it was pretty much competetive parking....so we circled like vultures for what seemed to be eons before finding a space.  Only to find out...we were three campuses away from where we needed to be.  Several elevator rides and alot of walking later...we found ourselves in the Main Lobby of the right campus.  Now we had to find the E elevator....but...once we got on....we both realized we had no clue what floor to get off on.  Quick phone call to Amanda and we hit 6.  She met us at the door and let us in.  Randy looked wonderful.  Today was a good day and he was in rare form.  It made me feel good to see him so chipper.  We took him some Chocolate Chip Cookies.  I called Kat when I got there and Amanda and I sang Happy Birthday to her...since Still Magnolias won't be performing at her birthday party....we gave her the next best thing.  Randy's aunt Norma and her son were there when we got there....then a friend of his from high school came in with her husband....then Randy's sister came...she was having her donor check done today at 1:30.  The room was getting a bit crowded....so we hugged everyone and left.  Norma's son gave us some quick directions to I-85 and they were great...and we headed south.....with one stop in mind.  Frank always fusses that I talk about restaurants that he needs to eat at...but never take him.....today was a take Frank day.  We ate lunch at the Varsity.  We both had a number 1 special (chili dog with either fries or onion rings).  I had fries, Frank got onion rings and we split them.  The place was crowded as usual.  It seats 800 inside...and serves 400 in the drive through. It is the World's largest drive-in.  Frank loved it....so we can cross The Varsity off the list.  I still owe him The Whistlestop Cafe in Irondale.  After lunch we got back on the interstate and headed for Rock Mills.  This time in Newnan we took the 34 by-pass....WRONG MOVE.  They are four laning the road...and traffic was a nightmare.  Oh well...next time we will know better.  We got back home at 1:30 and spent the rest of the day napping and unpacking boxes.  I counted them today...20 more to go for real...and still can't find the can-opener.  I have been opening cans with a bottle opener.  We cooked supper ( I did the sides/Frank grilled hamburger steaks)....we ate...I cleaned up...and here I am.  I thought I would blog and check my emails tonight....tomorrow is Kat's party...so I am going to work at the house til we get ready to leave.  Happy Thursday.

Inside Natalie's Closet

It’s no secret that I love buying clothes for my children.

So every once in awhile I’ll be posting an entry on an outfit that they are wearing. It’ll mainly be my daughter seeing as my son does this when I ask him to pose for the camera:



I took the following photos on Father’s Day. Natalie is sporting an outfit from Gymboree’s Citrus Cutie line.



“Hey Natalie, how about we take some photos!”



Hmm. Not entirely thrilled there.

“It’ll be fun!”



Natalie doesn’t believe me. Just as most of America doesn’t believe a word BP says.

“Can’t you give me a smile?”



This is what she offered.

I started to do a silly dance and BEHOLD....



....but within a few seconds she was all, “Not funny anymore. You know what I want.”



What she wanted was for me to run into the side of the house.

Yes, I run into my home to get my kid to laugh.

But hey, it worked.





While doing it a neighborhood kid came over to see if Tommy could play.

“Tommy’s Mom,” she said, aghast. “What are you doing?”

“It makes Natalie laugh,” I offered and then BAM, side of the house against my cheek.

The kid mulled this over and then said, “My Mom just asks me to say cheese.”

Well fiddle-dee-dee.

After she was gone I had Tom come out to take photos with Natalie.

Tom doesn’t like to pose for the camera.

“Want me to run into the house for you?” I asked.

“I’ll pass,” Tom responded.



“By golly, I love my Daddy in his Chuck Norris shirt.”



Should I be insulted that she instantly smiles when Daddy is holding her? If I ask her to smile I have to smack into the house and risk getting a bruise.



She’s going to miss him when he’s in Korea…

Happy 30th Birthday to My Sweetest Little Rosebud

Wow...it does not seem like 30 years since Kat was born...but yep...here it is.  She is officially 30 today and I am feeling a bit old.  Kat was not due until July 23rd....but due to pre-eclampsia and toxemia...labor had to be induced at 6 AM on June 23rd.  I had been having light labor pains for a couple of days...had been in the hospital since Friday....and then...there she was.  She was the cutest thing I have ever seen.  She had the prettiest little munchkin face...and the very first thing she did when they handed her to me...was take my finger...and when she did...she took my heart and has held on to it ever since.  Kat was my salvation.  This child made me the person I am today.  I always wanted to be the best for her.  I came up short a lot of times...but no matter what....I knew she loved me.  I have told you tales of Kat several times in my blogging career....I wish you could meet her.  You would love her.  Everyone does...she is something else.  I don't know how she became so wonderful...because I certainly have my faults...but I would love to think that she takes after me....to an extent...and then she way surpasses me.  I don't know if she will ever know how proud I am of her.  If I ever did anything right in this lifetime...she is it.  My mom kept Kat when I went back to school...two days a week. 

My mom taught her responsibilities, how to cook, how to sew, ...my mom loves her unconditionally.  When Kat was two...mom and Kat went to James Longs Depot (the local Kellyton pack a sack)....this was back before car seats were required....so Kat was standing up beside my mom in the seat of her 1972 Chevy Impala.  When they pulled up at the store...the train had stopped behind the store and the engineer and some of the guys had gotten off to run into the store for a snack.  Kat moved over to the window of the car...and leaned out...and said to one of the men, "Pardon me boys, is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo?"  She was an instant hit.  The railroad guys looked forward to seeing her every week.  When Kat was a baby....I used to sing her to sleep everynight....she was not much for the Lullaby and Goodnight thing...nope...she usually dozed off to Chattanooga Choo Choo, Sweetest Little Rosebud, Rock a by your baby...with a Dixie Melody, and her all time favorite...Sentimental Journey.  She grew up listening to my music....and has a large repertoire of music today.  She knows it all.  When she was almost 3 I thought I would give my mom a break from keeping her....

so I enrolled my oldest two in Kids College at AUM and Kat in the Child Development Program...she lasted just shy of three days.  One the third day when I went to get her....Mrs. Jeannette asked me why I did not tell her it was Kat's last day.  I was confused...and she pressed on by telling me that Kat had come in that morning, told them it was her last day, she could spell her name - "XYZ" and her granny needed her.  I called my mom...and Kat was through with AUM....funny continuance to that...years later...when she got her BS from AUM....she worked at the Child Development Center....for Mrs. Jeannette...and Jeannette remembered her.  LOL...now 10 years later...she has a Masters....and Education Specialist....from....AUM.  It makes me smile.  She is so brilliant.  I am not bragging because she is mine...I would tell you this is she belonged to anyone. She is one of my favorite traveling buddies.  I would go anywhere with her....except maybe skydiving.  To sum up my ramblings...Thirty years ago...I did something right....it must have been a blue moon.  I received one of the greatest blessings ever bestowed on a person.  I became a mother....but more than that....I became Kat's mother....and that....that has made all the difference.  She is that one shining moment.  She is my biggest fan....and I am hers.  She is what makes me a star.  Happy Birthday Munchkin.  Here is to many many more.  I love you!  "Sweetest little rosebud, everybody knows, don't know what to call you...mighty like a rose.  Sweetest little baby, sweet as she can be...she's my little honey...and her name is Kathryn Leigh."

Laramie County Courthouse FAIL

I’ve never really been impressed with the people who work at the DMV at the Laramie County Courthouse.

Never.

Everytime we’ve gone in to register our vehicles it seems like they sneer at us, as if they’re bitter that we get a military discount.

I remember last year I had to go in myself because Tom was at K9 training school in Texas. I had to register my car and I walked in armed with Tom’s LES, his orders, and the Power of Attorney he had left me. I walked over to the counter, laid out my papers and politely said that I would like to register my car.

“You can’t do it without your husband,” the worker told me sharply and then looked as though she were waving the next person in line over.

“Yes, I can,” I spoke up.

She seemed startled and stared at me like I had a giant booger popping from my nose.

“No,” she began. “You can’t.” She talked to me as though she were talking to a child.

“Yes,” I said, mimicking her tone. “I can.” I pushed the papers closer to her. “I have my husband’s LES, a copy of his orders, and a Power of Attorney.”

She sighed and tapped her fingernail against the counter. Then she reluctantly called someone over.

“This lady,” she said, motioning to me rudely, “is trying to register her car without her husband who is in the military.”

The person who she called over looked at all the paperwork and said it was okay.

I wanted to go, “Ha!” but I swallowed it back.

See, since we’re military we get a discount on re-newing the tags for our vehicles. We only pay $15 for our car and $30 for the truck. If we didn’t get the discount we’d have to fork over around $100 or so for each vehicle. I’m not totally sure the price but I do know it’ll be a significant increase from the military discount.

Anyhow, we had to go back to the DMV yesterday. Tom wanted to make sure that I could still get the military discount even though he’d be in Korea.

Tom politely told the DMV worker that he’d be in Korea for a year and that he was hoping that I could still get the military discount.

“No,” the worker said snidely. Yup, it seems everyone that we’ve ever spoken to has had an attitude. And okay, I can understand that it’s probably boring answering questions and handing over license plates and such but still.

“No?” Tom repeated.

“No,” the worker repeated. Rudely. “Since you will no longer be stationed on the military base here, you are not eligible for the military discount anymore.”

“But I’m staying here on the military base,” I said. “We’re still getting military pay.”

The worker shrugged. She obviously could care less. “I’m sorry.” But she certainly didn’t sound it. You’d think she’d have been all, “Thank you for defending our country,” or something. But no.

“He’ll still be in the military though,” I tried again.

“Yes but, he won’t be stationed here anymore,” the lady told me. And yes, she had that tone as though she were speaking to a child.

“But I will and we’ll still be getting military pay,” I said.

“Yes but, he won’t be stationed here anymore.”

Was I speaking to a robot?

“I understand,” I said firmly so she comprehended that I understood THAT MY HUSBAND WOULDN'T BE STATIONED HERE ANYMORE. “But why wouldn’t I still get a military discount even though my husband is still military?”

“Yes but, he won’t be stationed here anymore.”

UGHHH!

It was like speaking to a brick wall.

Eventually she called someone over. They always call someone over.

“This lady,” the worker said, frowning at me, “doesn’t seem to get that because her husband will no longer be stationed here, that she won’t get the military discount. She doesn’t seem to get that her husband is active duty and that he’ll be gone, therefore no discount.”

Her worker friend didn’t even look sympathetic. Hello, my husband will be gone for a year. I’ll be staying here ALONE with my two kids. You’d think that one of them would have said something like, “I understand that it must be frustrating knowing that he’ll be gone for a year...BUT....”

But no. No one offered any type of advice.

Her worker friend just repeated the same thing:

“Your husband won’t be stationed here anymore so you’ll be expected to pay full price.”

I tried not to groan. “But our legal office on base said that we should still get the discount.” It’s true. We were there not too long ago so I could get Power of Attorneys and the person said that I should still be eligible for the discount.

“That’s not true,” the worker said unkindly.

I noticed Tom’s eyes were bugging out of his head throughout all of this. He hissed, “Let’s go,” so I dropped it and walked out with him.

“You could have been arrested,” he whispered at me.

“What, how? I wasn’t yelling,” I said.

“You wouldn’t drop it. They said no and that’s that. They could have called a cop over.”

What bugs me about Tom is he doesn’t fight for things. If someone tells him no he accepts it and moves on. If someone tells me no and I know it’s wrong, I argue. I learned that from my Grandma and my Mom, who won’t hesitate to argue when they know they are in the right.

So yes, I’ve disappointed with the Laramie County Courthouse. I’ve never met a friendly worker there so it seems like the staff needs to be trained in having some manners. And it’s not just me who thinks this, many people from the military base have been insulted or spoken rudely to.

We’re going back to the Legal Office to see if there is anything that can be done.

It’s safe to say that the Laramie County Courthouse has left a bad taste in my mouth and I do NOT look forward on going back when I have to register the vehicles.

Week One in Rock Mills

Today is Tuesday and I am supposed to get a teenager...who is going to come and help me organize...if nothing better comes along.  I worked in the office today....had a major spill...tripped over a cable cord...hurt my pride more than anything else.  I laid on the floor for a few minutes...and since Frank was up at his office getting it in order....cried like a baby.  I thought it would make me feel good...but it just made me have a sinus headache....sigh!  Teenager obviously found something better than helping a middle aged preachers wife unpack boxes...but I got a lot done.  There are 5 liquor boxes left in the office...and three of those go in the cedar chest...there are 10 boxes in the living room, 2 in the den, and 2 in the guest bedroom...and I am done.  We went to Clark Brothers Meat today...and bought a small family package of meat...came home and divided it up into Frank and Karen sized packages.  It was fun...we are having pork chops for supper...with some fresh squash our neighbor, Mrs. Gloria, brought us.  We have eaten chicken...in some form or fashion....5 times in the 7 days we have been here....NO MORE CHICKEN!  I do not feel like chicken tonight at all!....NEWS FLASH....no porkchops or squash tonight...we got a call from East Alabama Hospital and had to go to Opelika...our first official member in the hospital visit.  We ended up eating at Red Lobster.  I came home and tried to finish up a Google Doc class project I am working on for CEU's.  I ended up crying out of frustration and going to bed.  Tomorrow is another day Mrs. Scarlett.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....



To not have pre-ordered the new iPhone 4. I mean, okay, I think it’s cool but I have Verizon so I couldn’t use it anyhow.


To get utterly cranky when it’s incredibly hot.


To not ever allow my 16-year-old to sail around the world. If they ever wanted to I’d make them watch Jaws in hopes that the prospect of sharks would change their minds.


To be sad that The Tudors is all over. Boo. Must go visit the Tower of London, Hever Castle and Hampton Court.


To not watch True Blood. Maybe I should start. My PARENTS even watch it and I hear James Frain, my former eye candy from The Tudors is on it now.


To hope that you’ll be able to try fried green tomatoes while visiting North Carolina. (And yes, I got the idea of trying them from the movie Fried Green Tomatoes. )


To love hot dogs even though people claim that it’s made up of ass and lips.


To be irritated that Bethenny Frankel looks so good ONE MONTH after having her baby. And okay, to be a little MORE irritated when she’s all, “While pregnant you shouldn’t pig out.” Really? You shouldn’t? Dammit.


To be a freaked out when grown men are excited over watching Eclipse. Because the story is just THAT enthralling? Thank goodness my own husband mocks it mercilessly.


To think it’s strange when women don’t fart in front of their men. I understand not in the beginning because it’s important to keep up the façade that women don’t poop/fart/etc but at the year mark, it’s okay to pass gas, seriously. I give you permission. If your man is cool, he’ll laugh.


To hate when celebrities say things like “no carbs, no salt, and no sugar” on why they have a smoking body. I’m sorry but I need carbs, and salt, and sugar to be happy so I guess no smoking body for me. Oh well.

Just Another Manic Monday

Monday morning we got up and hit the ground running.  The landlord of the house in Alexander City was meeting us at the house at 10 AM to get the keys and tell us if we were good tenants.  Since we are now an hour away from Alex City we left the house by a bit after 6 so we could meet my sweet friend Mary at the house by a bit after 7.  She works the third shift at the hospital right now filling in for a friend.  Anywho...she was going to come...straight from work...without any sleep....and help us clean the house.  We beat her there because she went home and got out of her uniform.  I did a quick and thorough wipe down of the window sills.  I hate dusty window sills.  While I was doing that, Frank was loading up my plants and the few things left in the shed.  He was also nice and picked up the trash around the yard.  Mary's husband Bill cut the grass for us on Saturday...he is such a love.  WE sold our lawn mowers before we could cut the grass again.  Once Mary got there we all began a specific chore.  My job was to get rid of the food from the fridge that we did not take.  Mary was mopping, Frank was sweeping.  As we all know...men are not the best at sweeping...and Frank is no exception.  Mary ran the dust mop after he had finished...just to make sure.  Then we mopped.  The kitchen was the only floor with vinyl that could be straight mopped.  The other floors in the house were hardwood...OLD hardwood.....ABUSED hardwood.  I did not want to buy a bunch of new cleaning supplies...so we used up my hardwood floor cleaner on the first 4 rooms and the hallway.  Then....we mixed up some Murphy's Oil Soap...also great on hardwood floors and cleaned 1.5 more floors.  The last floor...it was done with Fabuloso...lavender scent.  The house looked fabulous.  Frank went and turned in the cable modems and stuff...Mary and I visited.  Mr. Landlord showed up at 10 on the dot.  Did a walk through...told us we were great tenants...took the keys and we were through.  After the marathon cleaning, we visited my mom, and then headed back to Rock Mills...to unpack some more.  Sigh....I think the boxes are like rabbits...and multiplying. 

Farts and Cake

“FFFFFFFTTTTTFFFFFF.”

“Amber, dammit, I’m going to take that away from you,” my husband Tom grumbled.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

See, I got an iPod Touch for my birthday and the first application (or app, as the cool kids call it) I downloaded was a farting one. You can time the thing to make a farting noise and when it does you can be all, “Did you just cut the cheese?”

I’ve done this joke in our house. A lot. Tom found it funny at first. But after the third time he was no longer amused.

“How old are you again?” Tom asked pointedly.

“Er....twenty eight....” I admitted. And then the iPod Touch farted again and I collaped into more giggles.

My birthday, which was on Saturday, didn’t start off that good though.

No, when I had stumbled down the stairs I expected Tom to take me in my arms and wish me a Happy Birthday. But no. I found him stretched out on the couch, fast asleep. And for my added enjoyment, as I glared down at him, he scratched his balls, let out a loud snore, and smacked his lips repeatedly.

Why wasn’t he up wishing me a happy birthday? On his birthday I always wish him a happy birthday first thing.

I was tempted to throw water on his inconsiderate sleeping face. But that wouldn’t be nice. And it could potentially put him in a foul mood. So instead I started stomping around the house. I slammed cupboards and banged on drawers. I peeked over my shoulder expecting to see Tom waking up. But no. He didn’t even budge.

Maybe he IS telling the truth when he says he doesn’t hear the kids when they wake up in the dead of night.

(Probably not, though.)

In the end I sent Natalie to wake him up. I knew he wouldn’t get upset with her. And he didn’t. I heard him go, “Woah!” and then his eyes fluttered open.

“Boo,” Natalie said, grinning down at him.

I strolled into the living room waiting for my birthday wish.

Tom just scratched his leg and looked confused.

I waited some more.

Tom sneezed and didn’t bother to cover his nose.

Gross. Remind me to sanitize that area.

Tom got up and seriously looked like he was going to leave without wishing me a happy birthday.

“Ahem,” I said sweetly. I would not get mad on my birthday.

“You have an eye booger,” Tom offered.

AN EYE BOOGER? IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY AND ALL HE COULD TELL ME WAS THAT I HAD AN EYE BOOGER?!

“Oh, and happy birthday,” Tom added almost as an afterthought.

Well. I’ll take it.

Plus Tom made me lasagna.

And there was cake.





So in the end I had an enjoyable birthday.

Filled with lots of cake.

(Seriously, I had one piece after dinner and one piece before bed. Yum.)

The House That Built Me

Yesterday, my friend Leigh over at Tales of Bloggeritaville posted a very touching piece about the "House That Built Me."  I was too tired yesterday to deal with it but thought since today was Father's Day I would address it today.  Today is a hard day for me....this is my first Father's Day without my father and I woke up feeling weepy. My dad was an apprentice in the union program when I was a child so we were poor.  My first house was a basement apartment owned by Ethel Morton.  I adored her.  Later, when my dad finished the program we moved into the house next door to the basement apartment.  I was the only child on the block and our house was directly across the street from Palm Beach High School's front yard.  What a big yard it was.  In the evenings my parents would take me across the street to run and rip in the Big Yard.  We would place chase, throw the ball, race....and yes I said We....they played with me.  That is a lot different from the way it is today with many families.  Life was good in the house on Georgia Avenue.  Dougie, my brother, and I were both born while we lived on that street.  When I was five we moved to the house I lived in until I moved away.  We moved to Vedado Park and to 1127 El Prado.  It is amazing that I even remember the number.  The first day I lived there I met the first of my amazing childhood friends.  I met Carol Geiger.  She was 5 too and we became inseperable.  Carol lived in the house directly behind mine.  What made it nice is that her parents Valerie and Harland also became my parents best friends and her sister Cathy"Hun" became my brother's best friend.  Our families had bbq's, went to the beach, hung out together and shared in each others lives.  That same year I met my other dear friend, Susan Johnson.  She lived just around the corner on Locust St.  Carol, Susan and I all started Vedado Park Kindergarten that year.  We started school back in the day when kindergarten was not required.  I love neighborhood schools and when we were six we started Belvedere Elementary.  We were the Belvedere Bee's.  When I was 9 and my brother was 5, Dougie died at the house.  He accidentally hung while swinging on a rope swing in the ficus tree in our backyard.  My fractured family dealt with the loss and pain due to the wonderful neighbors and friends we had on El Prado. I remember Halloween's back when they were safe...trick or treating in the neighborhood was fun.  We had one guy on the corner who made snow cones for every child that came by.  We could eat apples then without worrying about some sicko putting a razor blade in it.  Neighbors made homemade brownies and cookies....and Mrs. Dobson gave each of us a roll of pennies.  A&W had a rootbeer stand not far from the house and we would go there after a day at the beach.  We had hurricane parties...not the drunken bashes that people have today....but the Geigers and my families would stay in one house and play cards. We had BBQ's and Fish Fries and everyone in the neighborhood and my Uncle Cecils family all came and brought a dish.  These were huge events.  Carol and I would do little mini operettas....sometimes we would pretend we were the Beatles....fix our hair like them, dress up like them, and make guitars out of cardboard and string to play.  We had fruit trees in our back yard and I would sit outside in the evening and eat Duncan grapefruits right off the tree.  You have not lived til you have eaten a Duncan grapefruit.  We also had two Temple orange trees....another great delicasy and they are very hard to find today.  I became a Conniston Blue Devil in the 7th grade.  It was another neighborhood school.  My dad and I buried Peanuts under the grapefruit tree.  Peanuts was my first teacup Chihuahua.  A speeding car hit him less than 20 feet from me.  If she had swerved...she would have hit me.  My mom actually wrote a note to the school that day telling them that there had been a death in the family.  It was the only time she ever did anything like that.  Funny what memories writing will bring back up.  We either walked to school or were taken...on rainy days.  I had my first childhood kiss under the orange tree in my back yard.  I had my first real kiss in the neighborhood.  I remember it to this day.  Steve McLeod was my first big kiss.  I was 13...he was 16.  High School was not a neighborhood school so we had to ride a bus for the first time.  We attended Forest Hill High School and were the Falcons.  By now the loss of my brother was weighing heavy on my family and I could not wait to leave home and go to college.  I ended up at Palm Beach Junior College for just shy of two years....and then I quit....a quarter before finishing....how stupid I was.  I moved to Alabama to help my grandmother, went to work in a cotton mill banding sleeves on Jeerzees T-shirts, lived with my future sister-in-law, and met my first husband....but that is another day....today is the House That Built me.  It was a peach colored stucco house with a stoop and beautiful hibicus bushes in the front...and these red little flower bushes...that we would pick and remove the stems and suck the necture from the.  We also had Florida cherry bushes...we did not eat them...we used them as weapons in the neighborhood when we played war, or pirates, or whatever.  They actually hurt when they hit you...and would leave a terrible stain on your clothes.  My mother had a beautiful flame bush....and it flourished until....my mom was on some health kick...and made me take Castor Oil every morning before I left for school.  I learned how to roll it to the back of my mouth...and I would spit it on the flame bush as I left for school....the bush died....I am telling you people....Castor Oil is BAD!  My mom never understood why it died.  My dad and I would go fishing out of the turnpike, at the end of the street, or in Lake Okeechobee.  My childhood....in the House that built me, was memorable.  Some of the memories are bad....most of them are wonderful.  I went home a few years ago...I took Frank to see where I became me....and was saddened because progress has removed all of what I held dear.  The house and apartment on Georgia Ave.  were removed to make room for City Center...a big commercial mecca near the Kravitz Center of Performing Arts (on the grounds of Palm Beach High School).  My El Prado neighborhood is all gone.  It was to be made into a practice sports area for one of the area colleges.  I can't remember if it is FAU or FIU.  The only thing that remained are the driveways, the bushes that stood next to the houses, and it looked like some nuclear site where a bomb went off...and the world disappeared.  I cried as we drove away.  It is like "I" never exsisted in Florida.....but for a brief shining moment....when I was young....the House that Built Me...was.  Happy Father's Day...Hug those special Dad's in Your Life.

Chicken Q and Classic Car Show

It is not even daylight when we get up and head to the church this morning.  I have no idea what to expect.  Some of the men have been cooking since 1 AM.  Frank falls in with the guys outside and I go in to become part of the ladies brigade.  My job for the first part was watching Ms. Celia (Hope's wife) make from scratch bisquits.  I did not think anyone did that anymore.  I personally get mine from a bag our of the freezer section.  Marcia is the one in charge...although she says she is not.  Her sister Sherry arrives shortly thereafter.  Job two...breaking eggs in a bowl to be scrambled.  This, it turns out, is not just a BBQ...they serve the guys breakfast.  YUMMY!  Tenderloin...right off the grill, eggs, homemade biscuits and preserves, and homemade sourdough bread.  We ate...then began the process of preparing for the enslaught of customers to retrieve their Chicken with tickets sold.  I had a blast.  These people were so much fun to work with and so Frank and I got in their and got busy.  It was a good day and I am tired.  No unpacking was done today.  Marcia's daughter, Lyndi is coming on Tuesday to help me.  Was that not sweet?  How many juniors in high school would give up a summer day to come help their pastor's wife undo boxes....tomorrow is the big day.  Our first Sunday at Rock Mills.  The bulletins are run, Frank's sermon is done....oh...and Kat and I are singing.  This will be her second time to sing in public with me.  I am thrilled beyond measure.  The only thing that would make it perfect would be if Amy could be here too.  Happy Saturday to all.  Pictures will be posted next week.  There is so much to tell and so much to see.  Have a great Saturday.

TGIF

I would think that was a good thing...but right now..it is just another day of unpacking boxes.  Frank got them all in the house...so at least we don't have to go out in the sweltering heat.  We had to meet Blue at 10:30 at Waverly and turn over the keys...then we went by Mary's and visited with her for a bit, picked up some stuff from the other house (we turn the keys to it over on Monday), ate a Sub at Subway, gassed up, visited my mom and were back in Rock Mills before 2.  Beau was so funny...when we got ready to leave...he actually howled...he has never done that.  It was the most mournful sound.  Frank is on the ball, sermon ready, I am getting more and more nervous the closer we get to Sunday.  Ooops...got to run...Frank is wondering where I am.  I am actually hiding behind some boxes at my desk.  I can't believe how much kitchen crap I have.  Iron Chef America could take place in my kitchen for all the stuff.  Tomorrow is the Chicken Q.

On Zumba and Sexy Moves

Look, I fall down and spill stuff.

A lot.

I’m uncoordinated and I admit that.

So it’s no wonder why my husband Tom looked bewildered when I told him I was going to Zumba class.

“Isn’t that like....dancing?” Tom scratched his head. I know he was probably picturing me smacking into a wall the other day and then spilling my water all over the kitchen counter.

“Yup. It’s a good workout,” I said. And Lord knows I need a good workout with the way I eat. I can’t help it though. Junk food tastes so good. I try to get just as excited over a carrot but it doesn’t work.

“Um....okay,” Tom agreed. He was still baffled. He was probably picturing me running straight into a stack of boxes in the garage. I had been talking to Tommy so I was distracted and I took a few steps and them BAM, box in face.

My friend Amanda, who I was going to Zumba with, mentioned that during one point of the class that the teacher asked everyone to do a sexy move.

“A sexy move?” I repeated. I really don’t do sexy well. I try but apparently my idea on what sexy means is different from most men. Like I flutter my eyelashes when I’m trying to be coy and sweet.....sort of like a come hither look....but most men just ask if I have something in my eye or they think I have Tic.

I decided to practice a sexy move for Tom so that I wouldn’t look like a fool in class.

I did this:



“The hell is that?” Tom demanded.

“I’m being sexy!”

“How is that sexy?”

Well. I don’t know. I was going for a sexy Egyptian look or something. And ugh, I certainly don’t LOOK sexy there as Tom insists on taking my pictures while sitting down which just makes my face look fat. Or maybe my face is just fat. But still, can’t he, I don’t know, STAND UP, and take my photo?

When Amanda picked me up I still had no idea what my sexy move would be. We took our spots in the back—yes, the back because the thought of someone standing behind me watching me attempt to do the dance moves made me shudder—and then the teacher walked in. And the teacher, good gracious, was in SHAPE. I mean, obviously she should be since she teaches a class. Her arms were buff, she had ABS—real abs!—and her legs were lean. Not an ounce of fat was on the chick. In other words, she could have definately beat up Tom.

“She probably doesn’t eat processed foods,” I said to Amanda. I would love a body like that but the thing is, I love processed foods.

The teacher just started the class abuptly. She just started moving and I was all, “Holy crap!” Not out loud, but in my head. I quickly tried to keep up but this chick could move. She went left, she went right, she dipped, she spun around, she did lunges…

I could feel my face grow warm. Whenever I work out my face gets bright red. It is not attractive. There were women up front who didn’t even look winded and their faces were a normal shade of color.

It was an hour long class and let me tell you, I felt like I was going to die a few times. And yes, I got lost in a lot of dance moves and almost punched the woman in front of me when I was trying to do an air punch. But in the end I enjoyed it.

And as for my sexy move?

I shook my hips and twirled my hands in front of me. You know when you sing The Wheels On The Bus? and you sing the part, “The wheels on the bus go round and round..” and twirl your hands? Yeah, I did that even though some women shook their butts—and it didn’t look ridiculous as it would have looked had I attempted it—and other woman shook their hips seductively—and I....well, I twirled my hands as though I were singing a children’s song.

Go me.

Day Two in Rock Mills

We tackled the truck before 6 and actually turned it in at the UHaul place in Roanoke before 10.  We just unloaded everything into the carport.  Now...let's hope it does not rain.  I unloaded boxes, we did a few errands....made sure the cable was in our name....and then had lunch at Gedneys.  Wonderful place to eat.  They are renovating their Wal-mart here...it looks like ours did about 2 years ago...frightening...can't find anything.  It is a small...very very small Supercenter....but hey...it is Walmart. Unpacking is not fun and Frank and I decided that next move...we are hiring movers.  I would not mind unpacking boxes IF, and only if, I didn't have to load and unload them too.  That is what you get for trying to save the church a few dollars.  Sigh!  Today is Thursday and I am anticipating the big Rock Mills Chicken Q on Saturday.  I so want this congregation to like us.

Mederma Fail!

I moved seductively over to my husband Tom.

I closed my eyes and leaned in for the kiss, expecting him to gather me into his arms.

“Why do you smell like medicine?”

My eyes flew open at Tom’s question. Why was he rambling on about medicine when we were about to share a kiss? Maybe I heard him wrong. So I closed my eyes again and leaned in again.

“Seriously, you smell like medicine.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. I wanted to add, “you ungrateful asshole,” but I didn’t.

“You smell weird,” Tom admitted.

Then I understood what he was talking about. See, I had started putting on this stuff:



And okay, while it doesn’t smell the greatest, I certainly would say that it smelled like medicine.

“That’s the stretch mark cream,” I explained. “I’m hoping to get rid of my stretch marks.” I really wish I could be like one of those ladies who are proud of their stretch marks but I’m not. I’m sick of my stomach looking as though someone has taken a knife to it. I used to have a tight stomach, for craps sake.

Tom should be THANKING ME for wanting to better myself.

“It smells weird,” Tom prattled on.

Seriously, could he just DROP the smell thing already?

So because I was insulted, guess who slept on the couch that night?

Well.

No one. Mainly because Tom is stubborn and no matter how upset we are with each other, he’s not about to sleep on the tiny uncomfortable couch. Me either, for that matter.

Guess who DIDN'T get lucky?

Well.

No one.

Because I’m a woman and I have needs and my husband will be in Korea in 2 months for an entire year.

So there.

We Are Here!

We Are Here!  Just a brief update to let you know we are now residents of Rock Mills, AL.  I am so excited.  We could not move in until 12 noon today and it was a thousand degrees in the shade when we got here.  Poor Frank...the only help he had was me...and my sweet friend Mary...who had to work third shift at the hospital.  We got about half the truck unloaded and decided to leave the other half til morning.  Good idea.  The people of the church brought us some wonderful food...and I hope they don't make snap judgments on first impressions...I was one dirty bird...and stunk.  They hugged us anyway, welcomed us to the community, fed us, and we ate ravenously.  I am going to like Rock Mills.  I will share pictures later this week.

Going Crazy In Gymboree

“Now, you have to promise me that you’ll sit okay?” I instructed Natalie as I helped her out of the car.

“Okay,” Natalie agreed.

Do you think she was telling the truth?

Ha.

I brought her in Gymboree and the little minx went crazy. She didn’t want to sit in front of the TV. Yes, Gymboree has a TV. But Natalie didn’t care, she just wanted to race around the store. Look, I find the store exciting—I mean, it’s filled with all sorts of adorable duds—but I don’t race around like a wild animal.

“Hi Amber,” my favorite worker said as I struggled to get Natalie to sit.

“Hello,” I answered as Natalie thrashed in my arms while screeching, “I don’t YIKE to sit right now, Mommy. I DON’T YIKE TO SIT RIGHT NOW!”

“I take it you know we’re having a sale,” the worker continued.

“Yes,” I said as Natalie tiny fist collided with my ear. Ouch. She twisted her body around to the point where I was holding her by her ankles. She laughed so I continued to shop while grasping her ankles with one hand and using the other to go through the racks.

“Hello,” I said to a woman who sidled up beside me. She did a double take when she saw my daughter hanging upside down.

The sale, by the way, was Gymboree’s Red Balloon Sale—or RBS—where they mark their older lines that didn’t sell $7.99 or less. And okay, I know I had just said a few entries back that I wasn’t going to buy anymore clothes—but this doesn’t count, these clothes are for next season, not now. So it’s okay.

“I want down,” Natalie said as I found this ultra adorable green sweater jacket. And ohhhh....another sweater jacket…

“I want down,” Natalie repeated and since I was distracted she slithered from my arms and sat right underneath the middle of the rounder.

“Heavens!” an old lady yelped as she pushed some clothes aside and came face to face with my daughter.

“Hi,” Natalie said sweetly.

“Natalie, get out of there,” I said, bending down with my goodies in my arms. “Now.”

“No.” Natalie shook her head.

I could feel my anger start to boil over. I’m working really hard on not yelling. I really don’t want my kids to have memories of me stomping around the house screaming at them TO JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!

“Natalie,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m asking you to get out.”

“No.”

Deep breaths....deep breaths....

What I wanted to shout was, “I’m the motherfu*king adult and when I say GET OUT I mean GET OUT!”

But how inappropriate would that be?

Very.

So after I had calmed myself I said, “Would you like to be my helper and hold your sweater jackets?”

I thought Natalie would be thrilled by the prospect of being my helper.

But....

“No thanks.”

Ugh.

So I did the next best thing: I grabbed her and MADE her come out. Of course this made her thrash all over again and the clothes I found fell to the floor. I swear I saw another lady eye them with interest as though she were tempted to grab them…I shot her a Look like, “I may have a crazed child but they belong to me and I have a purse filled to the brim with crap that I can use as a weapon so back off.” Thankfully she did. Back off, I mean.

I brought my items to the counter, slung Natalie over my shoulder so that her head was hanging near my butt and paid as though nothing were amiss. No, favorite store worker, I don’t have an insane three-year-old on me.

“I’ll probably be bringing more stuff out if you want to come tomorrow,” the store worker said kindly. She’s never made me feel like a bad mom.

“I’ll do that—only I’ll be leaving her with her Daddy next time,” I said.

“Mommy, I want DOWN! I don’t YIKE DIS!”

When we left the store Natalie was calm again. I’m not sure why Gymboree causes her to act like that.

This is what I found. Everything was $5 since I had a 20% off coupon. Well except for the top, which was only $3.





Natalie approves!



Of course when I showed Tommy the sweater I got for him he went, “Nice but I’m not wearing it.”

Excuse me?

“There’s nothing offending or embarrassing about this sweater,” I argued.

“I don’t like it,” Tommy said stubbornly.

“Young man, I only paid $5 for this sweater and I was proud to find it and dangit, you’ll wear it.”

“It’s funny looking.”

I’ll convince him somehow.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To love getting the Zeppoli dessert that’s served at Olive Garden. Usually I’m stuffed by the end but I don’t care. I am getting the Zeppoli. (For those who don’t know, they’re like beignets. And for those who don’t know what those are, that’s what Google is for :)


To think it’s disgusting when people spit while they are walking. Stop it.


To have been confused to see Snooki on Jay Leno. Aren’t there worthier people? (Like that dude who played Culpepper on The Tudors?? )


To love the movie Amadeus. Especially Amadeus’s laugh.


To not let your kids mess with your iPod Touch. I’m sorry, but it’s mine.


To think bees are evil. Yes, I know they do a lot of good things for us but they seriously have it out for me. Plus, don’t you remember what the bees did to poor Thomas J?


To think it’s weird when adults talk about going to a Justin Bieber concert minus any kids with them. Um....because his music is THAT good? (Doesn’t he just stand there singing “baby, baby, baby,” over and over again?)


To be excited over shopping Gymboree’s RBS sale today (for those who don’t know, Gymboree puts out a bunch of clothing from their older lines that didn't sell and marks them down...I believe the price points are $7.99 and below and yes, you may use a coupon on top of it. There’s a current coupon in the latest Family Fun and Parenting magazines.)


To look forward to the prospect of cake on your birthday (I turn 28 on Saturday. And I love cake.)


To be upset that the last episode of The Tudors airs on Sunday. I want more, dangit. I’m not ready for it to be over.


To be a little afraid of this consultant on Say Yes To The Dress. Are those eyebrows…drawn on?

Twas the Day Before Moving.....

I swear we have taken three carloads to the Mission Thrift Store and my stuff seems to be like rabbits...it just keeps multiplying.  I am wondering now if the 24 foot truck we are renting will be big enough for all this.  It is overwhelming.  When it seems like we have everything done...something comes out of the woodwork and we have to pack more.  The truck will be ready for pick up after 4 today and we have some friends coming to help us load after 5.  We are taking Beau to our friend Marion.  He is going to visit with his 5 buddies there until we unload on Weds.  He is really stressing out over this move.  All of his stuff is moving and being boxed and all he does is sit right up under you when we do take a moment to sit down. Poor little guy.  That is why we are taking his to Marion.  He loves her.  I think if anything ever happens to us she will have to take custody of the dog.  My sweet Mary is coming to Rock Mills tomorrow...on her birthday to help us unload/unpack. What great friends we have.  I penned a little ditty about this event and I thought it might make you laugh today.

Twas the Day Before Moving

Twas the day before moving and all through this house

Nothing was unboxed, except for resident mouse.

This day is a long one so I hope I survive

And keep all my marbles til the UHaul arrives

Poor Beau he sits silent and shivers with fear

That his master and mistress might just leave him here.

The clothes they are all packed in big wardrobe bins

The skillets, the dried food, and even the tins.

There's nothing to sit on the chair has been sold

My dad's coins packed up and we sold all the gold.

We sold dining room table and crock pot OH NO!

I really did not mean for that item to go.

We have visited the ABC store many a day

And with each trip carried a number of boxes a way.

The church at Rock Mills will think we are lushes

Each box is the kind that eventually crushes.

I sit and I blog before Frank shuts this down

And we leave Alex City I'll sure miss this town

And they'll hear us exclaim as we drive out of site....

Next time we hire movers...it will be a delight!

You may not hear from me tomorrow.  Who knows if I will be back up by then...but as soon as I am...there will be pictures of the new house...before I unpack....and after.  I can see a lot of good posting oppotunities coming.  This town has a Doll Museum and lots of other things to blog about.  So Happy Tuesday to All ...and to all a big Hug!  Pray we survive this.

The Camping Experience

Camping.

It’s the time where people can sit around a campfire as they make s’mores.

It’s the time when people can swim in the nearby lake....the time when fireflies are chased, the time when people bundle comfortably in sleeping bags.

I didn’t experience any of this.

Well, the bundling in the sleeping bag thing, maybe. Since it was raining and all.

There was no open fire to make s’mores. That’s because open fires were not allowed where we were at. And even if they were, I’m not sure my friend Amanda and I would have known how to start it. I know I can start a fire with a flint because that’s how people start fires on Survivor.

There was no lake nearby to swim in. I mean, there were puddles all around thanks to the rain so if we had wanted to, we could have sat in the middle of one.

Fireflies don’t live in Wyoming. Antelope do though. They roam around the base and I was a little worried that one would run into our tent. They’re not the brightest animals in the world. They’ll stroll out in the middle of the street and just stare at you while you sit in the car, cursing them.

Amanda and I had decided to camp a few weeks ago. We assumed the weather would be nice because hello, it’s June. But we forgot that we were in Wyoming, the land of 80 degree weather one day and 40 degree weather the next. Wyoming decided to give us 40 degree weather when we decided to camp. We debated postponing the camping trip but then realized that we were in the mood to camp dammit, so camp we would.

Ours was the only tent set up on the camp ground. We were the only crazies who dared to camp in 40 degree weather while it rained.

And yes, the area where we were camping was haunted. This is what it says online:

"Later research discovered that in the 1920s, a young Indian woman was brutally raped and murdered by cavalry men at White Crow Creek, Warren's present day FamCamp. "

And it’s that poor Indian woman who can be heard screaming at times, and rightfully so.

Still, I hoped she wouldn’t scream while we were there.

Everything was going smoothly until we both had to use the bathroom. And good news, there were actual bathrooms there. I had first asked, “We don’t have to squat and pee, do we?” I am awful at squatting and peeing.

When we stepped out of the tent it was raining. And when I looked into the darkness I thought I saw a bright eye staring back out at us. Okay, that doesn’t make sense because why would a bright eye be staring at us? But I don’t know how ghosts work so I was all, “Is that an eye?” and I managed to freak out Amanda. It turned out it was just a light from the RV area but still. It COULD have been an eye.

Then when we crawled into our sleeping bags the tent lit up as though there were a vehicle with their headlights on right in front of it.

“Um, what’s that?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Amanda replied.

“I swear, if Tom is trying to scare us I’m going to be pissed,” I fumed. I wouldn’t put it past Tom. He loves freaking me out. (“You just look so funny when you’re scared,” he once told me.)

“We should peek out and see,” Amanda said.

“Yes,” I agreed.

But none of us moved. What if it were an axe murderer? Or a ghost? Or an ALIEN? I’ve seen some horror films, whoever is dumb enough to CHECK IT OUT is usually the one dead.

It turned out it was just a spotlight that came on. But we didn’t know that. The worker at the campsite should have warned us. He could have said, “Don’t be alarmed when the spotlight comes on.” But no, all he said was, “Good luck with the ghost,” when Amanda had checked in earlier.

Who says that?

Good luck with the ghost?

There is NO LUCK to be had with a ghost.

Amanda and I eventually drifted off to sleep. I woke up a few times thanks to the trains that go rumbling past. It was especially fun when they blared their horns. I wanted to shout, “Hello, people in tents sleeping here, thanks!”

But we survived.

We didn’t encounter a ghost.

We may have encountered wetness but that’s okay. Because in the end we got something that we really needed: an adult conversation without any interruptions.

I’d go back in a heartbeat.

The Faces of Waverly UMC

Barbara, Martha Ann, and Miss Nell  - Barbara was the choir director. She is my coughing buddy. We seem to cough in time and I love harmonizing with her. Her granddaughter was christened while we were here. Barbara is from Michigan and I love to hear her stories of Garth. Martha Ann teaches Sunday School, Frank  christened her first granddaughter and she was so precious.  Miss Nell lived right next door to the church and is a love. Need a good hug....well these are some great hugging ladies.               

Picture number 4 is Stacy, the mother of Blake (our only child). She is such a bubbly person. Stacy is a single mom who works at Rite Aid. She loves her son and Bisquits Baseball. Miss Louise is 94 and lives next door to the Community Center. She still climbs the church steps every Sunday and believe me...they are steep. She has the sweetest personality and what a spunky lady. You just want to hug her.

Jackie is the best cook. I looked forward to fruits and vegetables from her gardens and thank heavens for Southern Living...she was always trying out some remarkable recipe. I think I gained 10 pounds while I was there. When she found out Frank and I were diabetic...she switched over and made stuff for us with Splenda. Marcus and Carolyn...Marcus was a retired Commandant from Lyman Ward Military Academy, retired veteran, awesome storyteller and writer, and called me, Mrs. Preacher from day one. Carolyn runs the Senior Citizens Center....and is very involved in their lives. They love to travel and have taken some great trips since our tenure here. I love hearing their tales of the trips.

Mr. High isn't he just the cutest thing?  His personality matches too.   He has an awesome antebellum house(furnished in period), behind the Waverly Post Office. He lives alone and is in his 90's. He has an infectious smile and laugh and still drives! Mark and Marilyn have really touched us. Marilyn was a rock when my dad was diagnosed and Mark is a quasi retired pharmacist. They are both great fun. Frank christened their grandchild. What a special memory.

Miss Inez is the piano player....I love it when she pulls out the old hymns for offeratory music. One Sunday she played "Ivory Palaces" from the old brown Cokesbury Hymnal and it made my year. Sometimes it is all I can do to keep from singing out loud. She is a big historian and I have enjoyed her tales of Waverly and Tallapoosa Co.  Blake is our precious little man. He helps Frank light the candles when he is there and is just adorable. Don't get me wrong...he is all boy and strong willed....but he is such a joy. I told Stacy yesterday that we still expected to be invited to his birthday parties.

Bob and Marie Slaughter (my hat lady) are so cute.  Marie plays the organ and fills in on the piano when Miss Inez is out.  She has an infectious smile too and wears the cutest hats.  She is a fashionista for sure.  I love to see how she will be dressed each week.  Bob is a veteran and has the funniest laugh.  When I hear his laugh I want to join in.  He is a doll.  Harold and Ailene are the green thumbs.  She brings the most beautiful flowers to church on Sundays.  They spend some of their year in Alaska and bring back the most awesome Eagle pictures.  I love to hear their stories and it makes me want to visit Alaska that much more.  One of these days I am going. Harold always has the coolest factoids that he shares in Sunday School.  He is a learned man and I love hearing him share.  David and Kayla(below) are some of the youngest members of the church.  They are the sweetest couple.  David loves lighthouses....and so I so we had common ground from the start.  Kayla is a Dental Assistant and we are the shoe queens.  Kayla's mom Patsy also attends...but she hates having her picture made so I am going to honor her on that one.  She is a great cook and has a knack of always making you feel good.  She is a fashionista too and I love seeing what she will be wearing.  Patsy's sister Robin comes too.  Robin has the biggest smile and a warm personality.  I have enjoyed getting to know her.

These past three years in Waverly have been a joy.  I looked forward to every single Sunday....except yesterday.  Yesterday was our last service at Waverly UMC.  I have grown to love this sweet little town.  There is something very comforting about the clip clop road sound you get when you enter the town's space.  The road is concrete and sings to you as you go through....or it always has to me.  It has a distinct tune....duh da, duh da, duh da, duh da, duh da da da da da da da, duh da.  Waverly is a town in both Chambers AND Lee Counties.  It is located on the foothills of the Appalachian mountains.  The town population is less than 200 yet, it has a post office and the three churches in Waverly sponsor most of the town's activities.  There is a major bbq in October.  Let me tell you, the people of Waverly know how to do bbq.  I have never liked Brunswick stew...in my whole life....until I tasted Waverly Brunswick stew.  It is awesome.  There is also an artsy craftsy music thing in April called 280 Boogie and it is great fun too. The history of the town according to Wikipedia is, "Waverly was settled in the 1830s as "Pea Ridge", but saw little growth until the 1870s. In 1871, the Central of Georgia railroad was extended from Opelika to Dadeville. As planned, the railroad was to take a route roughly one mile (1.6 km) north of the town. However, topographical problems forced the railroad engineer to "waver" the route to the south, passing through Pea Ridge. The townspeople, appreciative of this "waver" which gave their community a rail connection, renamed the town "Waverly". Some say the community was named for the Waverley novels of Sir Walter Scott."  Highway 280 used to run right through the heart of Waverly and it was considered a speed trap...but when the four laning of Hwy 280 took place it bypassed the town.  Now the only reminder that it is there is a sign on the highway pointing to Waverly Business District.  But that is not the Waverly I know.  The one I know has warm and caring people in it.  The ones I have met attend the Methodist and Baptist churches and they are wonderful people.  I know this because for the past three years my husband, Frank, has been the pastor of the Waverly UMC and we have become friends with the congregation of the Waverly Baptist Church.  Yesterday was our last day in Waverly as their pastor.  We will be their friends forever.  They are like your first kiss to us both.  You know...the one you never forget.  They were our first church.  God sent us to Waverly for a purpose.  I thought it was to minister to them....but that really wasn't it at all.  God sent us there because he knew I would need them. When my father and aunt were both diagnosed with lung cancer the prayer warriors of Waverly took a stand and began praying.  When my parents were missing, when my father died, when my mom had to be placed in the nursing home they mothered me.  I needed mothering so badly and they did.  They will never know how much those hugs meant to me each and every Sunday.  The service yesterday was sweet...the Baptist church joined us for service and lunch and I have never felt so wanted in my whole life.  Before the service started....they presented Frank with an Arthur Court tray that they had engraved and I thought my strong husband was going to come apart right then and there.  I was singing "Friends" yesterday...but when we got to the church and Frank went to cue it...there was nothing there.  We had picked up the wrong CD.  I did not let that stop me.  I wanted them to know how I felt...so I sang the song accapella.  My song and Frank's sermon were both delivered with our eyes closed.  Neither of us could look at those precious faces.  Lunch was great and then the goodbyes began and I cried all the way to Dadeville on the way home.  I know this is really not goodbye...we all serve the same Lord and we will meet again one day.  I know that we will see them between now and then....but it will be different.  Next Sunday we will be at Rock Mills UMC and I am excited about the new ministry.  I don't know what God has in store for us there...but I am up for the challenge.  God Bless Your Monday!