Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Three in A Tub
Last week was hot in these parts. My sister-in-law brought over a pool and our babies had the most fun splashing around. On the left is the little girl I keep two days a week, middle is my sweetie, and on the right is my nephew. The bottom picture is my little splashy girl. I had a lady in a gas station ask what my daughter's sign was, which I guess is Acquarius and she said, Oh she likes water, huh? Must be nice to be able to qualify and explain everything so easily. Anyhoo-it was a fun afternoon, even though my child got her first three ant bites ever. That means she's officially a southern girl. Loves grits, loves fried okra, has been bitten by fire ants. That's all that's required.
I dream of dishwashers
I used to like doing dishes. I found it therapeutic-you are cleaning something that is dirty and you can immediately see the results and be satisfied. Now I find that I long for a dishwasher. The appliance, that is. A little box with a door that opens, revealing racks where you can stick your dirty dishes. Then you put soap in a little cubby hole, shut the door, turn a dial, and listen as the friendly box swishes the water and soap around, washing your dishes. Remarkable. Miraculous. When I get one I will name it and take very good care of it, always.
My husband and I celebrated our anniversary last week. Our 4th anniversary. We stayed home and kept twin 10 month old girls who were not very happy for us, not even when we told them it was our anniversary! Jay and I were a good team, and I was proud of his baby skills, and patience (mostly) with the little girls. On Saturday we used the money we made to go out to eat and see a movie, both of which we hadn't done in a long long time. It was almost surreal to me. Jay opening the door for me. Standing at the box office. Sitting and whispering in the dark as the movie started. It's funny how you get used to doing or not doing certain things. We used to go out all the time. Now we are learning how to be responsible adults living on one income with a baby, and one on the way. Very sobering. And yet we are so blessed. I look back at all the Ebeneezers in my life and I am stilled and quieted.
I shaved last night with a new blade on my Venus razor. I find that I can shave and shave and shave on one blade, and lose all track of how long I've been shaving with that blade. It's like I am slowly desensitized to the increasing dullness of my razor, until I shave and just accept that the results are shaved legs, exactly what shaved legs should feel like. Then one day I realize...boom...my razor is dull as goose poop (a very interesting simile that I have heard my whole life and I greatly enjoy it). And my dull razor is giving me razor burn, tearing up my legs and leaving me prickly like no razor named Venus should. So I switch blades, lather up my cactus legs and go at it. The results are astounding. Now these are shaved legs, my friend. The whole situation makes me think about settling, about getting used to mediocrity and how it can sneak up on you. Fight for excellence! Demand truth! Demand to be sharpened and challenged! Don't walk around with prickly nicked legs! No es bueno!
My husband and I celebrated our anniversary last week. Our 4th anniversary. We stayed home and kept twin 10 month old girls who were not very happy for us, not even when we told them it was our anniversary! Jay and I were a good team, and I was proud of his baby skills, and patience (mostly) with the little girls. On Saturday we used the money we made to go out to eat and see a movie, both of which we hadn't done in a long long time. It was almost surreal to me. Jay opening the door for me. Standing at the box office. Sitting and whispering in the dark as the movie started. It's funny how you get used to doing or not doing certain things. We used to go out all the time. Now we are learning how to be responsible adults living on one income with a baby, and one on the way. Very sobering. And yet we are so blessed. I look back at all the Ebeneezers in my life and I am stilled and quieted.
I shaved last night with a new blade on my Venus razor. I find that I can shave and shave and shave on one blade, and lose all track of how long I've been shaving with that blade. It's like I am slowly desensitized to the increasing dullness of my razor, until I shave and just accept that the results are shaved legs, exactly what shaved legs should feel like. Then one day I realize...boom...my razor is dull as goose poop (a very interesting simile that I have heard my whole life and I greatly enjoy it). And my dull razor is giving me razor burn, tearing up my legs and leaving me prickly like no razor named Venus should. So I switch blades, lather up my cactus legs and go at it. The results are astounding. Now these are shaved legs, my friend. The whole situation makes me think about settling, about getting used to mediocrity and how it can sneak up on you. Fight for excellence! Demand truth! Demand to be sharpened and challenged! Don't walk around with prickly nicked legs! No es bueno!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Post
I posted something that I had started several weeks ago and it posted under March 30. That is annoying. I don't have time to figure out how to fix it so go below wedding stories and you'll see it.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Wedding Stories Cont.
Here is story numero uno from the wedding.
The Pies and the Keys
It was a lovely evening in early March. The eve of a wedding, the night before the blessed event. There was a chill in the air and the azaleas feared a frost. The bride was late to the rehearsal, blame it on the pies. Key lime pies. Coconut creme pies. Lots of them. They were stowed in various vehicles in the church parking lot. Time was running out for them. They needed to be on ice and they needed it quickly. There were two coolers and some ice in various other vehicles in the church parking lot. What was to be done? They asked me. Probably not the best person to deal with a problem of this magnitude. So I did what any bridesmaid would do, I delegated. Unsuspecting young friends Nathan and Hannah sat complacently in the back of the church, not knowing what I was about to ask of them as I ran down the side aisle to confront them. A mission. A harrowing mission that would call forth all their powers of strategizing and all their mental fortitude. I handed them five sets of keys. Set one was for a white Isuzu Rodeo, set two a black Pathfinder, set three a green Honda Accord, set four a beige minivan, and set five an Audi convertible. I told them-go find the pies-search every seat, every trunk. Find the ice. Find the two coolers. And hurry up. The pies are melting. They laughed with a nervous expression on their faces, but they were up to the challenge. With keys jingling, they set out, and I resumed my post as a bridesmaid. Time crept by. Key lime pie. They wouldn't fit in the coolers. So a big silver freezer bag saved the day.
Why Weddings are for Weepy Women
This one is obvious. Weddings are emotional events. Therefore, emotional people love weddings, and I daresay most emotional people tend to be women. Rehearsal dinners are emotional too, but there is a certain expectation of great memories being retold and baby pictures being shown, and a gathering of generations. These are emotional, and also good. It is a time to reflect, rejoice and look to the future as two lives merge. So I am not ashamed to say I cried at the rehearsal dinner. I've never seen such cute grandfathers.
24 Dead Goldfish and a Flourishing Orchid
This story is one of those "you had to be there" stories. Which is sad because I laughed so hard I was literally crying/laughing uncontrollably (ironic how emotions get intertwined at times). This type of laughter is soul cleansing. And it only happens every once in a while. And no one ever laughs like the two or three people who were "there." So I will just say that Cary and I were driving around downtown Mobile, waiting for our third car occupant to rejoin us when we saw a not so friendly group of men walking our way. We instantly felt vulnerable, and me especially since I had a bucket in my lap containing 24 goldfish. They were sloshing around, oblivious to the danger. Not only this, but I had a lovely orchid, (Thaleanopsis I think) brilliantly purple and blooming it's heart out, on the floorboard at my feet. It was like a botanical garden, only in my side of the Audi convertible, which really isn't equipped for any type of botanical endeavor. So as I feared for my life, realizing my vulnerability and lack of ability to make a speedy escape, Cary and I were struck by the bizarre humor of the situation. And here is the headline we drafted for the Mobile Press Register, as the tears rolled down: Former Lapel Pin Winner Found Dead in Downtown Mobile-
body surrounded by 24 dead goldfish and a flourishing orchid-
foul play is suspected
The Pies and the Keys
It was a lovely evening in early March. The eve of a wedding, the night before the blessed event. There was a chill in the air and the azaleas feared a frost. The bride was late to the rehearsal, blame it on the pies. Key lime pies. Coconut creme pies. Lots of them. They were stowed in various vehicles in the church parking lot. Time was running out for them. They needed to be on ice and they needed it quickly. There were two coolers and some ice in various other vehicles in the church parking lot. What was to be done? They asked me. Probably not the best person to deal with a problem of this magnitude. So I did what any bridesmaid would do, I delegated. Unsuspecting young friends Nathan and Hannah sat complacently in the back of the church, not knowing what I was about to ask of them as I ran down the side aisle to confront them. A mission. A harrowing mission that would call forth all their powers of strategizing and all their mental fortitude. I handed them five sets of keys. Set one was for a white Isuzu Rodeo, set two a black Pathfinder, set three a green Honda Accord, set four a beige minivan, and set five an Audi convertible. I told them-go find the pies-search every seat, every trunk. Find the ice. Find the two coolers. And hurry up. The pies are melting. They laughed with a nervous expression on their faces, but they were up to the challenge. With keys jingling, they set out, and I resumed my post as a bridesmaid. Time crept by. Key lime pie. They wouldn't fit in the coolers. So a big silver freezer bag saved the day.
Why Weddings are for Weepy Women
This one is obvious. Weddings are emotional events. Therefore, emotional people love weddings, and I daresay most emotional people tend to be women. Rehearsal dinners are emotional too, but there is a certain expectation of great memories being retold and baby pictures being shown, and a gathering of generations. These are emotional, and also good. It is a time to reflect, rejoice and look to the future as two lives merge. So I am not ashamed to say I cried at the rehearsal dinner. I've never seen such cute grandfathers.
24 Dead Goldfish and a Flourishing Orchid
This story is one of those "you had to be there" stories. Which is sad because I laughed so hard I was literally crying/laughing uncontrollably (ironic how emotions get intertwined at times). This type of laughter is soul cleansing. And it only happens every once in a while. And no one ever laughs like the two or three people who were "there." So I will just say that Cary and I were driving around downtown Mobile, waiting for our third car occupant to rejoin us when we saw a not so friendly group of men walking our way. We instantly felt vulnerable, and me especially since I had a bucket in my lap containing 24 goldfish. They were sloshing around, oblivious to the danger. Not only this, but I had a lovely orchid, (Thaleanopsis I think) brilliantly purple and blooming it's heart out, on the floorboard at my feet. It was like a botanical garden, only in my side of the Audi convertible, which really isn't equipped for any type of botanical endeavor. So as I feared for my life, realizing my vulnerability and lack of ability to make a speedy escape, Cary and I were struck by the bizarre humor of the situation. And here is the headline we drafted for the Mobile Press Register, as the tears rolled down: Former Lapel Pin Winner Found Dead in Downtown Mobile-
body surrounded by 24 dead goldfish and a flourishing orchid-
foul play is suspected
Things I Don't Normally Do That I Do Do When I'm Pregnant
I have been long absent from this keyboard. It is because I am pregnant. I am experiencing my first trimester illness and it brings me down pretty hard. Right now I'm preheating the oven for my 16th mini meal of the day. Fish sticks. Gross, but it is one of the foods I can tolerate. I only buy fish sticks when I'm pregnant. Here are some other trends of the condition:
* Drive down the road with a huge bag of Lime Tostitos on my lap (consuming them as I drive)
* Sleep like one dead, at 8:00 in the evening
* Snap at my husband ( I know it's no excuse, but really I'm not a snappy person)
* Cry at the sight of little old men in plaid polyester pants
* Eat alot of food, frequently. Literally my life is dictated by my stomach.
* Long for Thai soup (Tom Kuh Gai I think it's called)
*Cry over longed for Thai Soup- quote: "I just love it so much. I can't explain it." (while tears are running down my face)
*Throw up two times a day
*Feel like I'm going to throw up all day every day
This is not a pity party, just a little insight into the crazy world of my pregnancies. We are praying for a safe and healthy pregnancy, delivery, and baby. Pray with us! Due date is November 11.
This summer would be the time for my 10 year high school reunion. "Ten years" sounds unbelievable to me! Am I that old? I was thinking about trying to organize a reunion with all 5 students in my graduating class. No I did not leave off two zeros. I can proudly say I was number 3 in my class. Anyhoo, our reunion would be more of an intimate or awkward dinner get-together than a major reunion. What I would do is try to get in contact with the class above and below us, that way we'd avoid some of the awkwardness. (What do you think Jess?No.2 in our class-way to go Jess!) Speaking of our school, a small Christian academy-there was a current teacher from ACA on Wheel of Fortune last week! Wow! She won some big bucks. And she gave a shout out to all the students at Aletheia Christian Academy! I shed a tear.
Now I will go eat my yummy fish sticks. They are not processed, but cut from whole filets. Quality.
* Drive down the road with a huge bag of Lime Tostitos on my lap (consuming them as I drive)
* Sleep like one dead, at 8:00 in the evening
* Snap at my husband ( I know it's no excuse, but really I'm not a snappy person)
* Cry at the sight of little old men in plaid polyester pants
* Eat alot of food, frequently. Literally my life is dictated by my stomach.
* Long for Thai soup (Tom Kuh Gai I think it's called)
*Cry over longed for Thai Soup- quote: "I just love it so much. I can't explain it." (while tears are running down my face)
*Throw up two times a day
*Feel like I'm going to throw up all day every day
This is not a pity party, just a little insight into the crazy world of my pregnancies. We are praying for a safe and healthy pregnancy, delivery, and baby. Pray with us! Due date is November 11.
This summer would be the time for my 10 year high school reunion. "Ten years" sounds unbelievable to me! Am I that old? I was thinking about trying to organize a reunion with all 5 students in my graduating class. No I did not leave off two zeros. I can proudly say I was number 3 in my class. Anyhoo, our reunion would be more of an intimate or awkward dinner get-together than a major reunion. What I would do is try to get in contact with the class above and below us, that way we'd avoid some of the awkwardness. (What do you think Jess?No.2 in our class-way to go Jess!) Speaking of our school, a small Christian academy-there was a current teacher from ACA on Wheel of Fortune last week! Wow! She won some big bucks. And she gave a shout out to all the students at Aletheia Christian Academy! I shed a tear.
Now I will go eat my yummy fish sticks. They are not processed, but cut from whole filets. Quality.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Bows and Airplanes and Belly Buttons
Here are some recent picture of my 14 month old sweetie. She loves reading, rummaging through my tupperware and playing at the park. The top picture shows her first "big girl" pajamas. She likes them because she can constantly check the status of her belly-button. She also likes to find mine and her dad's. It is one of her favorite things. She has also recently become mesmerized by airplanes and helicopters that fly over the house. When she hears one, even if we're inside, she'll say "oooh!" and point upward and try to see where it is. This morning she heard one and we ran outside to see it. It turned out to be a US Coast Guard Jayhawk and it kept circling and passing right over our house for about 30 minutes. This was so exciting for Ruth. She waved at it and tried to keep it in her sight as it flew around. Last night at dinner she was flying her macaroni around and making airplane swooshing noises. Maybe we have a future pilot on our hands. She gets it from her Papa Mac who was a Navy pilot, and her Great Grandfather Pop Pop who was a Navy flight mechanic (who she never got to meet.)
The other two pictures are at the park. If you noticed the bow in Ruth's hair, you should know that it is the one and only time I've been able to trick her into wearing it. She likes when I put it in her hair, but only so she can immediately find it, pull it out, and talk to it while examining it.
She is into everything- so interested in everything around her. It is so wonderful to share in all her explorations and teach her what to call things and how they work.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
A weekend full of stories
This past weekend my friend Jen was married on a beautiful day- the kind of day every bride dreams of and keeps praying for. I was honored to be a bridesmaid, and I had a great time at every part of the wedding weekend. Friday night was the rehearsal dinner, which was a luau complete with a roasted pig with grapes in his eyes. It was an emotional time where friends and family stood up to congratulate the couple and tell the bride/groom how blessed she/he is to be marrying the wonderful man/woman who is his/her groom/bride.
I wanted to stand up and say something but I would have cried, and I'm not a good public speaker anyway, so I decided to pass. I did think of all the memories I have with Jen, how we were "friends by default" at first, but then we became true friends and have remained so for many years. We've spent two summers together, one at the beach, the other in Kazakhstan. We've traveled to Europe together and sipped coffee in the old cafes and walked the cobblestone streets of Prague and Budapest. We've watched plenty of girl movies and shopped alot, as all girl friends should. We used to email from our workplaces about how bored we were, how we hated working, how we longed for Friday...and do you want to go to lunch? We've met consistently to share what's really going on in our lives, and also to study the Scriptures. We've been roommates twice- once in a little house on Pillichody Drive, where we laughed and cried together many nights. The other was the last five months after she sold her house and needed somewhere to live until she got married. She has been a faithful friend to me, even when I had a baby and was not myself for many months. I love Jen, and I am so happy for her.
Here are some of the stories I'd like to tell from this weekend:
The Pies and the Keymasters
24 Dead Goldfish and a Flourishing Orchid
The Ceremony-The Beautiful Bride and the Adoring Groom
How My Feet Died
The Reception-Too much fun is a good thing
Why Weddings are for Weepy Women
The Case of the Two Missing Ferns
I'll try to get these done in a timely manner. I've been catching up on sleep after the whirlwind weekend. And getting my house back in order. Huge thankyous to my mom, who kept my daughter while Jay and I were doing wedding things. We couldn't have done it without her. Thanks Nonni! (I don't think she really minded spending a whole weekend with her grandbaby.)
The weather down here is bewitching, enchanting in its loveliness. The azaleas are building to a glorious crescendo, while the trees are beginning to send forth tiny green shoots. The grass is greening and the sun is beckoning all new life to emerge.
Today my little girl fell and busted her lip while we were in a store. Bloodbath at Bed Bath & Beyond (Blood Bath & Beyond?). It was her first official busted lip. The lady at the checkout thought I was bleeding because it was all over me. Maybe I need to carry an extra shirt everywhere I go. Or I could invent fabric that instantly changes to the color of a spill or stain. It could be called "Cotton Chameleon." That would be a big money maker. But sort of gross if you think about some stains. So maybe it needs to be fabric that can instantly assimilate stains into the color of the shirt. Whatever. I guess for now I need a Tide to Go stick. My friend Cary told me I needed one twice this weekend. Ok Cary. You're so right.
I wanted to stand up and say something but I would have cried, and I'm not a good public speaker anyway, so I decided to pass. I did think of all the memories I have with Jen, how we were "friends by default" at first, but then we became true friends and have remained so for many years. We've spent two summers together, one at the beach, the other in Kazakhstan. We've traveled to Europe together and sipped coffee in the old cafes and walked the cobblestone streets of Prague and Budapest. We've watched plenty of girl movies and shopped alot, as all girl friends should. We used to email from our workplaces about how bored we were, how we hated working, how we longed for Friday...and do you want to go to lunch? We've met consistently to share what's really going on in our lives, and also to study the Scriptures. We've been roommates twice- once in a little house on Pillichody Drive, where we laughed and cried together many nights. The other was the last five months after she sold her house and needed somewhere to live until she got married. She has been a faithful friend to me, even when I had a baby and was not myself for many months. I love Jen, and I am so happy for her.
Here are some of the stories I'd like to tell from this weekend:
The Pies and the Keymasters
24 Dead Goldfish and a Flourishing Orchid
The Ceremony-The Beautiful Bride and the Adoring Groom
How My Feet Died
The Reception-Too much fun is a good thing
Why Weddings are for Weepy Women
The Case of the Two Missing Ferns
I'll try to get these done in a timely manner. I've been catching up on sleep after the whirlwind weekend. And getting my house back in order. Huge thankyous to my mom, who kept my daughter while Jay and I were doing wedding things. We couldn't have done it without her. Thanks Nonni! (I don't think she really minded spending a whole weekend with her grandbaby.)
The weather down here is bewitching, enchanting in its loveliness. The azaleas are building to a glorious crescendo, while the trees are beginning to send forth tiny green shoots. The grass is greening and the sun is beckoning all new life to emerge.
Today my little girl fell and busted her lip while we were in a store. Bloodbath at Bed Bath & Beyond (Blood Bath & Beyond?). It was her first official busted lip. The lady at the checkout thought I was bleeding because it was all over me. Maybe I need to carry an extra shirt everywhere I go. Or I could invent fabric that instantly changes to the color of a spill or stain. It could be called "Cotton Chameleon." That would be a big money maker. But sort of gross if you think about some stains. So maybe it needs to be fabric that can instantly assimilate stains into the color of the shirt. Whatever. I guess for now I need a Tide to Go stick. My friend Cary told me I needed one twice this weekend. Ok Cary. You're so right.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
My recent post was very long. And heavy. Now I will write something of short duration and perhaps lightheartedness.
Today it is 80 degrees. Hot. I actually prefer it to be cooler on this, the second day of March. This is craziness.
I was thinking this week that the words "revelry" and "reverie" are a mere letter away from each other when pronounced. They are both things that I enjoy greatly. Mardi Gras just wrapped up here in Mobile, the birthplace of the festival. I don't enjoy Mardi Gras. I find it a tasteless and mostly pointless celebration by people who aren't even Catholics, which is who it is supposed to be for. The idea is to party like heck because, oh no, Ash Wednesday will come and then 40 days of giving something up until Easter. That is certainly some sort of hypocrisy. I love fun and revelry, but not with the idea of living it up "while you can," and then live a pleasing life that might make God forget all your excesses of pleasure during Mardi Gras. Hoping that our good will outweigh our bad is a fruitless hope. That's why we have grace. I like this quote by Nobel Peace Prize nominee/uber-musician Bono:
"You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics--in physical laws--every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It's clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the Universe. I'm absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that "As you reap, so will you sow" stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff.
Bono
In Conversation with Michka Assayas
The whole idea, though, is to try to not do stupid stuff (Romans 6). Because you realize the price of grace was a cross.
Grace, she takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name
Grace, it's the name for a girl
It's also a thought that could change the world
And when she walks on the street you can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness in everything
Grace, she's got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She's got the time to talk
She travels outside of karma, karma
She travels outside of karma
When she goes to work you can hear the strings
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace, she carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips between her fingertips
She carries a pearl in perfect condition
What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark no longer stings
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace finds goodness in everything
(from U2's album All that You Can't Leave Behind)
Speaking of u2, I recently made a list of my favorite songs of all time. Making lists makes me feel organized. When I told Jay this, he laughed at me. Not with me so much as at me. So I will post an unflattering photo of him someday. I know that feeling is not being, but sometimes it can help you become. So there. So here are some of my favorite songs of all time, in no particular order. (this could be a Time-Life cd collection on TBS)
1. November Rain Guns N Roses
2. Closer to Fine Indigo Girls
3. Galileo Indigo Girls
4. Language or the Kiss Indigo Girls
5. Angel Aerosmith
6. Bobby McGee Janis Joplin
7. Sunrays and Saturdays Vertical Horizon
8. With or Without You U2
9. Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For U2
10. Beautiful Day U2
11. One U2
12. Drive The Cars
13. Time After Time Cyndi Lauper
14. Night Swimming REM
15. Satellite Dave Matthews
16. Ramble On Led Zeppelin
17. Babylon David Gray
18. Round Here Counting Crows
These are songs I can't get over. I turn them up.
Today it is 80 degrees. Hot. I actually prefer it to be cooler on this, the second day of March. This is craziness.
I was thinking this week that the words "revelry" and "reverie" are a mere letter away from each other when pronounced. They are both things that I enjoy greatly. Mardi Gras just wrapped up here in Mobile, the birthplace of the festival. I don't enjoy Mardi Gras. I find it a tasteless and mostly pointless celebration by people who aren't even Catholics, which is who it is supposed to be for. The idea is to party like heck because, oh no, Ash Wednesday will come and then 40 days of giving something up until Easter. That is certainly some sort of hypocrisy. I love fun and revelry, but not with the idea of living it up "while you can," and then live a pleasing life that might make God forget all your excesses of pleasure during Mardi Gras. Hoping that our good will outweigh our bad is a fruitless hope. That's why we have grace. I like this quote by Nobel Peace Prize nominee/uber-musician Bono:
"You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics--in physical laws--every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It's clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the Universe. I'm absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that "As you reap, so will you sow" stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff.
Bono
In Conversation with Michka Assayas
The whole idea, though, is to try to not do stupid stuff (Romans 6). Because you realize the price of grace was a cross.
Grace, she takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name
Grace, it's the name for a girl
It's also a thought that could change the world
And when she walks on the street you can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness in everything
Grace, she's got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She's got the time to talk
She travels outside of karma, karma
She travels outside of karma
When she goes to work you can hear the strings
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace, she carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips between her fingertips
She carries a pearl in perfect condition
What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark no longer stings
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things
Grace finds beauty in everything
Grace finds goodness in everything
(from U2's album All that You Can't Leave Behind)
Speaking of u2, I recently made a list of my favorite songs of all time. Making lists makes me feel organized. When I told Jay this, he laughed at me. Not with me so much as at me. So I will post an unflattering photo of him someday. I know that feeling is not being, but sometimes it can help you become. So there. So here are some of my favorite songs of all time, in no particular order. (this could be a Time-Life cd collection on TBS)
1. November Rain Guns N Roses
2. Closer to Fine Indigo Girls
3. Galileo Indigo Girls
4. Language or the Kiss Indigo Girls
5. Angel Aerosmith
6. Bobby McGee Janis Joplin
7. Sunrays and Saturdays Vertical Horizon
8. With or Without You U2
9. Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For U2
10. Beautiful Day U2
11. One U2
12. Drive The Cars
13. Time After Time Cyndi Lauper
14. Night Swimming REM
15. Satellite Dave Matthews
16. Ramble On Led Zeppelin
17. Babylon David Gray
18. Round Here Counting Crows
These are songs I can't get over. I turn them up.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Forbid them not
In America we enjoy freedom of worship. We can worship whomever or whatever we want, and no one is supposed to infringe on that right. People of every religion, and those of every denomination within the Christian sector have different philosophies of worship. You'll find charismatic, liturgical, evangelism-focused, humanistic, liberal, conservative and whatever other flavors you could ever wish to find in churches all over the country. I have been a part of many different denominations over my lifetime: PCA (Presbyterian Church in America), PCUSA (the other Presbyterian), Baptist, Nondenominational, even a Messianic Jewish Congregation (Jews who believe Christ to be the Messiah). As I have grown older I have come to agree and disagree with certain policies or styles of various church denominations. One such policy that I strongly disagree with concerns a certain church on the Gulf Coast. This church has begun to enforce a policy that denies the youngest in the congregation the right to worship in the main service.
This week I heard firsthand from a member of this church (I will not mention the name of the church, or it's denomination) that they are forcing families with children to place their children in the nursery, and if the parents refuse, they are not allowed to enter the sanctuary. It applies to children six and younger. To accommodate those who don't want their children in the nursery, they have created a “family room” where the whole family can sit and watch the worship service on a television screen. The pastor has made it clear that he does not want children in the service because they are distracting to everyone else.
When I heard this, my first reaction was disgust, anger and disbelief. To say that children are not free to worship with their families, that they are an inconvenient distraction is horrible and heartless. To deny the parents the right to have their children worship with them and teach them how to behave in a service, how to sing the great hymns, recite the creeds, receive communion, and eventually digest and discuss the sermon is a travesty and, dare I say it, dictatorial.
I believe the pastor assumes several things about children that are incorrect and disturbing. I also think he is misunderstanding, or (I hope) forgetting one of the main theological thrusts of the whole Bible.
First, I think he assumes that they are going to misbehave and distract other worshippers. I have been in churches where a baby was crying uncontrollably, and I thought to myself, “why don't they take their child to the lobby?” The church in question does have a cry room where parents can take unruly children and still listen to the sermon. The bulletin at this church states that children should be taken out of the service if they are causing a disturbance. So yes, parents should be considerate enough to take their crying babies to the cry room or the lobby, which most of them are careful to do.
To assume that young children cannot sit through a sermon is wrong. To be super sensitive to every coo or babble is something the individual needs to get over. I have personally been more distracted by adults continually hacking and blowing their noses in a sermon than a baby making a noise, or a child asking his mom for a piece of gum.
The second assumption this church/pastor is making is that young children will receive no benefits from the worship service, but that they are better served in a Sunday school class or a nursery. I think this is a misconception. Children are smarter than we sometimes think. Babies are constantly processing and learning. They love music, lights, new faces, new sounds and new words. In the American church I believe we compartmentalize age groups and try to say that only a curriculum based on the person's level of comprehension and learning will impact them. That is why we see Baby Bibles with pictures, Teen Study Bibles, Women's Study Bibles (pink ones of course), and Young Adult Groups, Singles Groups, Senior Adults, etc. I understand the concept behind them, but I think teens are capable of studying from a plain old Bible with cross-references and a concordance, just as an elderly person can be taught in a class with a single adult and even a teenager. Young children can participate and glean from an “adult” service. They have the ability to worship with their families and sit quietly through a sermon. The content can impact them in ways we may not realize at the time, but that will become obvious as the child grows and can outwardly show how much he or she has absorbed from the worship service.
The compartmentalization I mentioned previously is one reason why I was never “challenged” in a youth group or Sunday school class. I had grown up in church and had a lot of knowledge that I was eager to add to and go further and deeper. It is ironic to me as I write this because I remember sitting in a “college” Sunday school class when I was a junior in high school. (This happens to be the same church I have been speaking about.) It was a great study that I was enjoying, learning from, and contributing to, but I was asked to go to the high school class because I was not in college. Generations are no longer learning from one another, they are being taught from age-appropriate curriculum with fun activities in “children's church,” or “ youth group.” I'm not saying there is not a benefit to this type of instruction, I just think it is not more effective or beneficial than the actual worship service.
The pastor at this Gulf Coast church, by his exclusion of children, has already alienated many of his congregation. He is robbing his congregation of the richness of a multi-generational service. He is denying the very children that Jesus spoke to so lovingly in Mark 10 verses 13-16. I am going to quote this entire section because it is precious and because it speaks of the priority children were to Jesus during his ministry.
“And they were bringing children* to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.” ESV
*In Matthew chapter 18, a parallel passage, verse 15 says “Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them...
This incident speaks volumes and speaks it powerfully. Jesus was indignant that the disciples were trying to keep the children from him. I really don't think they had nurseries when Jesus was teaching the massive crowds in the hillsides of Galilee and the surrounding areas. I'm sure babies were crying, and children were tugging on their mom's skirts to ask them questions. The early church speaks of entire families coming to faith together, and we can safely assume that young children were included in these families. I am not saying that I am anti-nursery, in fact I think nurseries are important and useful in a church setting. I am against forcing parents to place their children in the nursery. This policy has some disturbing issues behind it, and that is what I am trying to address.
This brings me to one last thing; something I think the pastor is missing- a covenantal view of the family. Acts 2:39 says “For the promise is for you and for your children..” To believe the promise leads to a deeper integration in a congregation. I am not a scholar, or a theologian (which I restate in order to clarify that I am not trying to claim superior Bible knowledge over anyone), but I believe in God and his promises, that the covenant includes children, and that they can and should worship in a congregation of believers. The best example of the application of this is a church I visited in St. Louis with one of my friends. The service included children of all ages, and my friend told me that hardly anyone uses the nursery. I sat with my 6 month old daughter in my lap, she sat with her 2 ½ year old, and we worshipped together. There were baby noises all around, but it was a beautiful sound and a wonderful example of the worshipping church.
I also want to say that it was not easy to sit with my child in my lap the whole time, and to sing out of a hymnal while holding her (I think it would become easier and easier -it's all about what you are used to/committed to). It is easier to take her to the nursery. But this is the problem. I am used to taking the easy way out. Americans are always looking for the easy solution, the easy 30-minute meal, the easy way to lose weight or get in shape. And the easy way is not always the best, most effective, most beneficial way. In fact, it is usually not the best. I want to do what is absolutely best for my daughter in every area of her life. This means sacrifice on my part, and enduring things that are not comfortable or easy (i.e. breastfeeding, but that is a totally different discussion).
I am not trying to say that the pastor and church I am questioning is denying children the right to learn about Jesus, or be taught the Scriptures. I am saying that they are devaluing their children, and denying them the opportunity of corporate worship and all the richness and learning that is available in a worship service.
*Today as I was finishing up this article, I spoke to my “source” and was informed that the policy was changed- it is no longer mandatory. This is good news. I think the pastor was getting a lot of flak from his disgruntled congregation. I can only hope he sees the errors in his view of children, and attempts to welcome babies and little children in the worship service consistently and effectively.
This week I heard firsthand from a member of this church (I will not mention the name of the church, or it's denomination) that they are forcing families with children to place their children in the nursery, and if the parents refuse, they are not allowed to enter the sanctuary. It applies to children six and younger. To accommodate those who don't want their children in the nursery, they have created a “family room” where the whole family can sit and watch the worship service on a television screen. The pastor has made it clear that he does not want children in the service because they are distracting to everyone else.
When I heard this, my first reaction was disgust, anger and disbelief. To say that children are not free to worship with their families, that they are an inconvenient distraction is horrible and heartless. To deny the parents the right to have their children worship with them and teach them how to behave in a service, how to sing the great hymns, recite the creeds, receive communion, and eventually digest and discuss the sermon is a travesty and, dare I say it, dictatorial.
I believe the pastor assumes several things about children that are incorrect and disturbing. I also think he is misunderstanding, or (I hope) forgetting one of the main theological thrusts of the whole Bible.
First, I think he assumes that they are going to misbehave and distract other worshippers. I have been in churches where a baby was crying uncontrollably, and I thought to myself, “why don't they take their child to the lobby?” The church in question does have a cry room where parents can take unruly children and still listen to the sermon. The bulletin at this church states that children should be taken out of the service if they are causing a disturbance. So yes, parents should be considerate enough to take their crying babies to the cry room or the lobby, which most of them are careful to do.
To assume that young children cannot sit through a sermon is wrong. To be super sensitive to every coo or babble is something the individual needs to get over. I have personally been more distracted by adults continually hacking and blowing their noses in a sermon than a baby making a noise, or a child asking his mom for a piece of gum.
The second assumption this church/pastor is making is that young children will receive no benefits from the worship service, but that they are better served in a Sunday school class or a nursery. I think this is a misconception. Children are smarter than we sometimes think. Babies are constantly processing and learning. They love music, lights, new faces, new sounds and new words. In the American church I believe we compartmentalize age groups and try to say that only a curriculum based on the person's level of comprehension and learning will impact them. That is why we see Baby Bibles with pictures, Teen Study Bibles, Women's Study Bibles (pink ones of course), and Young Adult Groups, Singles Groups, Senior Adults, etc. I understand the concept behind them, but I think teens are capable of studying from a plain old Bible with cross-references and a concordance, just as an elderly person can be taught in a class with a single adult and even a teenager. Young children can participate and glean from an “adult” service. They have the ability to worship with their families and sit quietly through a sermon. The content can impact them in ways we may not realize at the time, but that will become obvious as the child grows and can outwardly show how much he or she has absorbed from the worship service.
The compartmentalization I mentioned previously is one reason why I was never “challenged” in a youth group or Sunday school class. I had grown up in church and had a lot of knowledge that I was eager to add to and go further and deeper. It is ironic to me as I write this because I remember sitting in a “college” Sunday school class when I was a junior in high school. (This happens to be the same church I have been speaking about.) It was a great study that I was enjoying, learning from, and contributing to, but I was asked to go to the high school class because I was not in college. Generations are no longer learning from one another, they are being taught from age-appropriate curriculum with fun activities in “children's church,” or “ youth group.” I'm not saying there is not a benefit to this type of instruction, I just think it is not more effective or beneficial than the actual worship service.
The pastor at this Gulf Coast church, by his exclusion of children, has already alienated many of his congregation. He is robbing his congregation of the richness of a multi-generational service. He is denying the very children that Jesus spoke to so lovingly in Mark 10 verses 13-16. I am going to quote this entire section because it is precious and because it speaks of the priority children were to Jesus during his ministry.
“And they were bringing children* to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.” ESV
*In Matthew chapter 18, a parallel passage, verse 15 says “Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them...
This incident speaks volumes and speaks it powerfully. Jesus was indignant that the disciples were trying to keep the children from him. I really don't think they had nurseries when Jesus was teaching the massive crowds in the hillsides of Galilee and the surrounding areas. I'm sure babies were crying, and children were tugging on their mom's skirts to ask them questions. The early church speaks of entire families coming to faith together, and we can safely assume that young children were included in these families. I am not saying that I am anti-nursery, in fact I think nurseries are important and useful in a church setting. I am against forcing parents to place their children in the nursery. This policy has some disturbing issues behind it, and that is what I am trying to address.
This brings me to one last thing; something I think the pastor is missing- a covenantal view of the family. Acts 2:39 says “For the promise is for you and for your children..” To believe the promise leads to a deeper integration in a congregation. I am not a scholar, or a theologian (which I restate in order to clarify that I am not trying to claim superior Bible knowledge over anyone), but I believe in God and his promises, that the covenant includes children, and that they can and should worship in a congregation of believers. The best example of the application of this is a church I visited in St. Louis with one of my friends. The service included children of all ages, and my friend told me that hardly anyone uses the nursery. I sat with my 6 month old daughter in my lap, she sat with her 2 ½ year old, and we worshipped together. There were baby noises all around, but it was a beautiful sound and a wonderful example of the worshipping church.
I also want to say that it was not easy to sit with my child in my lap the whole time, and to sing out of a hymnal while holding her (I think it would become easier and easier -it's all about what you are used to/committed to). It is easier to take her to the nursery. But this is the problem. I am used to taking the easy way out. Americans are always looking for the easy solution, the easy 30-minute meal, the easy way to lose weight or get in shape. And the easy way is not always the best, most effective, most beneficial way. In fact, it is usually not the best. I want to do what is absolutely best for my daughter in every area of her life. This means sacrifice on my part, and enduring things that are not comfortable or easy (i.e. breastfeeding, but that is a totally different discussion).
I am not trying to say that the pastor and church I am questioning is denying children the right to learn about Jesus, or be taught the Scriptures. I am saying that they are devaluing their children, and denying them the opportunity of corporate worship and all the richness and learning that is available in a worship service.
*Today as I was finishing up this article, I spoke to my “source” and was informed that the policy was changed- it is no longer mandatory. This is good news. I think the pastor was getting a lot of flak from his disgruntled congregation. I can only hope he sees the errors in his view of children, and attempts to welcome babies and little children in the worship service consistently and effectively.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Squirrels gone wild
Hi. I haven't been a big blogger lately, I must confess. I 've been thinking about things, though, so it will all come out here in the next few days. Here are some things that are going on:
1. T-ball is back in the park right slap across from my house. It is fun to see the little guys out there swinging away and tumbling around in the grass. Or running with their big gloves straight out in front of them and tripping and falling.
2. Today it is summer in the city. The temperature is above 70. Like they say on McDonald's commercials, DA DA DA DA DA I'm loving it.
3. Yesterday I scraped up dead vomited mole entrails off of the driveway. Thanks Wally.
4. The other day at the gas pump (our price here is $2.13 a gallon) I set the pump on automatic and was talking to my baby in her car seat. The pump shut-off at exactly $29.29. Weird.
5. My baby girl is now a walker. She loves walking around and around the house, usually carrying a toy in each hand. I never thought about it before, but when you only crawl you can't carry things, except in your mouth. So think how novel it would be to be able to carry things around the house and also give them to your parents.
6. Squirrels gone wild- i.e. the squirrels are everywhere I look and they're crazy. They chase each other in spirals around the trees in my yard and they're consuming all the birdseed in my feeder. I see them doing mating dances too. There is one squirrel who eats his body weight in my birdseed every morning. I call him Notch because he has a notch in his left ear. It's the exact size of a BB. Hmmmm... I wonder how that happened?
7. Yesterday I played a big part in making my daughter a beautiful dress for the upcoming wedding of my friend Jen. It was challenging, as I'm not a perfectionist, and I think perfectionists make the best seamstresses. But it is so much cheaper to make dresses than to buy them! I hope this is a step in the direction of me honing my sewing skills. (I've got skills.)
8. Last night Jay and I were watching the Olympics and we saw a hilarious commercial. It was a man going up on the roof to "clean out the gutters." He actually had a cooler, a chair, and some Bud Light. He looks over and sees his neighbor " repositioning the satellite" with his cooler and chair. Another neighbor pops up, but he is actually trying to repair a leak. He falls through the ceiling, behind where his wife is sitting on the couch. He stands up and says, "I'm ok" when his toolbox falls through and knocks him out. We laughed.
1. T-ball is back in the park right slap across from my house. It is fun to see the little guys out there swinging away and tumbling around in the grass. Or running with their big gloves straight out in front of them and tripping and falling.
2. Today it is summer in the city. The temperature is above 70. Like they say on McDonald's commercials, DA DA DA DA DA I'm loving it.
3. Yesterday I scraped up dead vomited mole entrails off of the driveway. Thanks Wally.
4. The other day at the gas pump (our price here is $2.13 a gallon) I set the pump on automatic and was talking to my baby in her car seat. The pump shut-off at exactly $29.29. Weird.
5. My baby girl is now a walker. She loves walking around and around the house, usually carrying a toy in each hand. I never thought about it before, but when you only crawl you can't carry things, except in your mouth. So think how novel it would be to be able to carry things around the house and also give them to your parents.
6. Squirrels gone wild- i.e. the squirrels are everywhere I look and they're crazy. They chase each other in spirals around the trees in my yard and they're consuming all the birdseed in my feeder. I see them doing mating dances too. There is one squirrel who eats his body weight in my birdseed every morning. I call him Notch because he has a notch in his left ear. It's the exact size of a BB. Hmmmm... I wonder how that happened?
7. Yesterday I played a big part in making my daughter a beautiful dress for the upcoming wedding of my friend Jen. It was challenging, as I'm not a perfectionist, and I think perfectionists make the best seamstresses. But it is so much cheaper to make dresses than to buy them! I hope this is a step in the direction of me honing my sewing skills. (I've got skills.)
8. Last night Jay and I were watching the Olympics and we saw a hilarious commercial. It was a man going up on the roof to "clean out the gutters." He actually had a cooler, a chair, and some Bud Light. He looks over and sees his neighbor " repositioning the satellite" with his cooler and chair. Another neighbor pops up, but he is actually trying to repair a leak. He falls through the ceiling, behind where his wife is sitting on the couch. He stands up and says, "I'm ok" when his toolbox falls through and knocks him out. We laughed.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,Youth's a stuff will not endure
-Twelfth Night
(I made Jay do this. It was completely staged. Three cheers for romance! This was clearly a "kissing spot" so what else was there to be done?)
Happy Late Valentines Day which is a day I reject because it is sort of ridiculous in it's greeting card and floral and stuffed animal mania. I do love love though, and I will celebrate it any day. Like today. The 15th.
True plain hearts
I wonder by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we lov'd? were we not wean'd till then?
But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desir'd, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west?
What ever dies, was not mixt equally;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die.
The Good Morrow
-John Donne
Did, till we lov'd? were we not wean'd till then?
But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desir'd, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west?
What ever dies, was not mixt equally;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die.
The Good Morrow
-John Donne
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Rummage is a fun word to say, Part Deux
What you see before you is my latest acquisition. I am so excited about these rusty old chairs that I found in a trash pile around the corner the other day. One is stationary and the other is a rocker. They would probably cost around 50 dollars a piece in an antique store. I'm going to sand them, treat them with anti-rust stuff, and paint them. You might scoff, turn up your nose, exclaim with derision- nice pieces of junk! But I stand firm in my conviction that these chairs are full of potential and they are just sitting there waiting to be sat upon on a sultry summer evening- waiting for the tiki torches to be lit and the lemonade to be poured. So I raise my glass...to spring! to the struggling azalea seen on the right! to the scrawny neighborhood cat seen in the distant background! to new life for old chairs! Here Here!
Friday, February 03, 2006
M I crooked letter, crooked letter, I, crooked letter, crooked letter, I, humpback humpback I
Last weekend my family- (me, Jay, Ruthie; my mom Dion, my dad Al; my brother Alan, his wife, Cheryl and their baby Annabelle) went to visit my mom's brother, Duffee, his wife Alatha, and all my cousins-Hayley, Shelley and Lang, all of whom are married, the former two having children, in Meridian, Mississippi. (That was a major run-on sentence. For you, Mr. Jones.) Meridian is where my mom grew up, met my dad, who was stationed at the Navy base there, and where my grandmother, Nanny, lived and died. Meridian is a place of fond memories for me. It was the place that never changed as I moved from town to town, growing up in a Navy family. It was "the South" to me for so many years- a steamy hot mosquito buzzing place with red dirt and people who spoke "Southern."
It was Nanny's house on the lot by the creek, the room across the porch, the green rocker, the dogwood in bloom. It was Nanny running out to greet us, waving her arms and laughing with excitement. I wrote my name in crayon in the wash house, beside my mom's name where she wrote in in 1960-something. I learned to love corn bread baked in a skillet, and sleeping in the back bedroom listening to the drone of the window-unit air conditioner. I learned to hate poison-ivy, the bane of the creekside ramblers.
My brother and I would bring our bicycles and tour the city with our cousin Lang. We'd ride around the corner to Shumate's service station and get IBC root beers and drink them on the curb. We'd pedal over to the Monkey Tree- which was actually two or three massive trees with the biggest wisteria vine I've ever seen growing up the middle and entertwining them in a million serpentine arms. It was the best climbing, and a wonder to look upon.
Meridian was walks up the Canyon Road after dinner in the steamy dusk with the lightning bugs coming out to shine. It was stories of my mother's childhood and my parent's first date. It was sitting on the cement couch and laughing our heads off, or dancing to Lawrence Welk with my crazy Nanny. It was 39th Avenue, Sno-Cones, Highland Park-the one with the carousel. My brother unearthing an old quarter beneath the towering oak that my uncle had planted when he was a boy. Meridian was the plaintive cry of the train coming down the tracks , it was sitting outside in lawn chairs until the bugs drove us inside.
It was good to be back there again. My aunt's hospitality and cooking are unmatched. My cousins' children are precious, and my uncle plays Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson. They live in a charming green house with a purple door. It sits up on a lush, ivy-covered hill studded with tall pines and one budding Japanese magnolia. The fire was lit and we sat and talked, and laughed and recalled things from the not so distant past. I didn't go by to see Nanny's house. My cousin said it was sad to see. I think I want to always see it as it was, so I guess I won't ever drive down 39th Avenue again. But I promise you it is in my mind's eye, clearer than most of the things I can remember. And Nanny and her love are always there waiting, with a pot of homemade vegetable soup warm on the stove.
******
One place we did go visit was Booker's Antiques in Whynot, Mississippi (for real, Whynot, Mississippi). It's a short drive from Meridian and we used to go with Nanny to seek out treasures of all sorts. The last time I was there was probably 8 or 10 years ago, and I remember buying a teacup from Czechoslovakia and an old volume of Shakespeare. Booker's has changed greatly. The place is so full of stuff that you have to turn sideways to get through at several points. You can find anything and everything in there- beautiful pieces of furniture, not so beautiful pieces of furniture, china platters, pitchers, teacups, an iron eagle, stained glass, hurricane lamp chimneys, records, newspapers, dolls, shutters, a stuffed toucan, radios, bottles, paintings, rusted iron embellishments and on and on. It is frightening in its outrageous quantity. But also interesting. I will put some pictures that I took inside to show the beauty that I found despite the scariness. (I suffer through dial-up and can't post pictures together, I have to do them one at a time, until some hero in a black mask rescues me and shows me how to function better with my limitations. So bear with me.)
It was Nanny's house on the lot by the creek, the room across the porch, the green rocker, the dogwood in bloom. It was Nanny running out to greet us, waving her arms and laughing with excitement. I wrote my name in crayon in the wash house, beside my mom's name where she wrote in in 1960-something. I learned to love corn bread baked in a skillet, and sleeping in the back bedroom listening to the drone of the window-unit air conditioner. I learned to hate poison-ivy, the bane of the creekside ramblers.
My brother and I would bring our bicycles and tour the city with our cousin Lang. We'd ride around the corner to Shumate's service station and get IBC root beers and drink them on the curb. We'd pedal over to the Monkey Tree- which was actually two or three massive trees with the biggest wisteria vine I've ever seen growing up the middle and entertwining them in a million serpentine arms. It was the best climbing, and a wonder to look upon.
Meridian was walks up the Canyon Road after dinner in the steamy dusk with the lightning bugs coming out to shine. It was stories of my mother's childhood and my parent's first date. It was sitting on the cement couch and laughing our heads off, or dancing to Lawrence Welk with my crazy Nanny. It was 39th Avenue, Sno-Cones, Highland Park-the one with the carousel. My brother unearthing an old quarter beneath the towering oak that my uncle had planted when he was a boy. Meridian was the plaintive cry of the train coming down the tracks , it was sitting outside in lawn chairs until the bugs drove us inside.
It was good to be back there again. My aunt's hospitality and cooking are unmatched. My cousins' children are precious, and my uncle plays Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson. They live in a charming green house with a purple door. It sits up on a lush, ivy-covered hill studded with tall pines and one budding Japanese magnolia. The fire was lit and we sat and talked, and laughed and recalled things from the not so distant past. I didn't go by to see Nanny's house. My cousin said it was sad to see. I think I want to always see it as it was, so I guess I won't ever drive down 39th Avenue again. But I promise you it is in my mind's eye, clearer than most of the things I can remember. And Nanny and her love are always there waiting, with a pot of homemade vegetable soup warm on the stove.
******
One place we did go visit was Booker's Antiques in Whynot, Mississippi (for real, Whynot, Mississippi). It's a short drive from Meridian and we used to go with Nanny to seek out treasures of all sorts. The last time I was there was probably 8 or 10 years ago, and I remember buying a teacup from Czechoslovakia and an old volume of Shakespeare. Booker's has changed greatly. The place is so full of stuff that you have to turn sideways to get through at several points. You can find anything and everything in there- beautiful pieces of furniture, not so beautiful pieces of furniture, china platters, pitchers, teacups, an iron eagle, stained glass, hurricane lamp chimneys, records, newspapers, dolls, shutters, a stuffed toucan, radios, bottles, paintings, rusted iron embellishments and on and on. It is frightening in its outrageous quantity. But also interesting. I will put some pictures that I took inside to show the beauty that I found despite the scariness. (I suffer through dial-up and can't post pictures together, I have to do them one at a time, until some hero in a black mask rescues me and shows me how to function better with my limitations. So bear with me.)
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