Reformation Day

sola scriptura
sola fide
sola gratia
solus Christus
soli Deo gloria

Scripture alone
faith alone
grace alone
Christ alone
glory to God alone

Rocktober

October has been a good month for us. I always mean to keep up better, but sometimes I get tired of just posting what we do. I like more variety, but then sometimes my creativity is staunched by, say, exhaustion, excessive vomiting, or laziness. I do want to mention some of the exciting things that have happened this month.

1. My niece Alli was born on October 12. She is a precious thing, and I am so glad to welcome her to our world. She weighed 6 lbs. 7 oz. and was 19 inches long. Alli has lots of dark hair, and I can't wait to hold her again. (We've been fighting colds and didn't want to get her sick.) Congrats to Greg, Kelli, and Jackson!

2. Our cat, Wally reappeared after a month and a half of being dead. Really, I thought he was a goner. I was away the night he came back and when Jay told me I was completely astounded. I just kept saying, "no way." Well, it was a miracle in my book. Ruthie was so excited.

3. That same night we had two weed-eaters, a blower, and a circular saw stolen from our garage. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. So much for lawn maintenance. We have learned to keep our garage door shut. We had several things stolen at our old house, so this is not new, but we were sort of naive in thinking we were in a "safer" neighborhood. (Not that that was an issue in our decision to move at all.)

4. The day at the beach. It was wonderful. It brought back all those lazy carefree days of my youth that I spent on Navarre Beach. It brought back the day Jay proposed on the beach, and the times my brother and I drove down to the beach when a hurricane was coming to see what it was like. I have grown up on some beach or other, so I feel the pull, and I love " going down to the sea again." This day the butterflies were flying all about, stopping by on their way down to South America. They were delightful, especially for Ruthie and my niece Annabelle, who loves butterflies.

5. The trip to Meridian, MS. My aunt, uncle, and two cousins live in Meridian, and it is one of the dearest places to my heart because I spent time there every summer with Nanny, who passed away several years ago. I wrote about it the last time we went which was March of 2006 (I think). It was a fun, nostalgic trip including a fall festival (where I won brownies in the cake walk), a ride on the famous 1890s carousel, a visit to the train station (where my grandfather has a brick to commemorate his time working for the railroad), my cousin's daughter's soccer game, eating out at the Fish Camp on the Chunky River, and much good conversation and laughter with my family. My brother and I also found the "Monkey Tree" where we used to climb with my cousin Lang. It is a huge wisteria, the biggest one I have ever seen, growing up and around two large magnolias. We would ride our bikes there, after stopping by the corner gas station to drink an IBC root beer on the curb, and climb all around in the twisty vine.

Conversation with a 30 Year Old Husband

I think I was talking about how much I love quiche, and how it would be really good for breakfast sometime. Jay does not like quiche. Thus began one of our strangest, almost fighting conversations about a food item made of eggs and cheese and flaky crust; and maybe in a vegetarian version broccoli, or in a meat-eater version, bacon or crabmeat. Simple elements, but they combine and threaten to tear families apart.

(As best I can remember it, the conversation went as follows)

J: I can't stand quiche.
M: I don't see how you don't like it, it's made of eggs, cheese and it could be bacon. You love those things. Especially bacon.
J: I just don't like it. The consistency is weird.
M: I don't think you've ever had a good quiche, like this one I love at the Cafe that has crabmeat in it. Don't you think you'd like that?
J: I doubt it. Quiche is not good.
M: Well, maybe I'll take you there and you can try it.
J: I don't like quiche. I had quiche at the Blue Bistro and I didn't like it. You would probably consider it a really good quiche.
M: I don't understand why you don't like it!
J: I just don't. I've never liked it, and I don't want to try it again.
M: I love quiche. I think you are ridiculous.
J: No, and why are we arguing about this. You're getting mad.
M: I am not mad, I'm just frustrated because you hate quiche. And I love it. I want to make quiche sometime but I know you won't eat it and that frustrates me.
J: Well, I just don't like quiche.
M: (internal groan) Arrrrgggh.

By this time we were astounded at the ridiculosity of what we just talked about for 5 minutes. And the word "quiche" was starting to sound really funny. Like if you say the word "fork" over and over and over, it becomes strange, perhaps the strangest word you've ever heard and you end up in laughter over the English language and it's peculiarities.

We had quiche one night soon after this conversation, only because we had some frozen appetizer quiches left over from a baby shower and we had no other good option for dinner. And Jay tried them. And he didn't like them. (Sam I am?)

Check out my Slide Show!

Happy Birthday, Jen!

The stomach virus of death descended upon our family last week, so it was especially good to get out of the house and celebrate my friend Jen's birthday on Saturday. We went to the Cornfield Maze at the Alabama/Mississippi line. Ruthie was very excited about being in Mississippi because she knows it on the map. I think when we told her we crossed into Miss. she thought she would see the little shape of the state like on the map placemat. It was a beautiful evening to be out in the country, and I loved the wildflowers and the hay-ride, things that made me FEEL like it was fall, even though the weather says otherwise. Ruthie loved the cow train, which she rode with me and Jen, and I was again struck by how much Ruth has grown up- sitting there so calmly by herself, just enjoying herself. Jen has grown up alot too...I remember when she was just 20! (har har har) We never thought we'd be 29, but time goes by so quickly. So happy 29th, Jen, and I hope this year coming up holds wonderful things for you!

Waiting room

I wrote this last summer and I don't feel like it's finished, but I'll put it here for variety. It's sort of a vulnerable thing to toss certain things I write into blogdom, but let's be done with insecurity and fear, shall we?

The asphalt radiates heat like my crusty toaster oven. It shimmers in waves, suspended over the crumbly surface and making my feet cringe. My flip flops won't melt. At least I hope not. They are black and they have seen the heat of many a Southern summer. Maybe I should start running in order to reach the door more quickly. After all, I run when it's pouring rain. Wet precipitation from the sky as opposed to nearly invisible heat rising upward in torrents and downward from the punishing sun. Either one will make you wet. Some people carry umbrellas for both. Maybe I'll start carrying a parasol like they did in olden times. Just big enough to shelter the delicate skin from unwanted rays, and just lacy enough to be a decorative indulgence.

The door is heavy, the handle slightly greasy and the metal worn in the spot where thousands of hands have grasped. Inside I am greeted by a wave of coolness. It is not an altogether refreshing coolness because it is a waiting room. The waiting greets me just as the cold does. One is merely a skin feeling, the other reaches another level inside me.

First, the ritual. Pen to paper. Who am I? What am I waiting for? Can the pen really answer for me? Do I really know the answer? I shift from one foot to another. That piece of my hair has come undone. I put it back in it's place. Maybe it belongs somewhere else. I feel the eyes of others who are already waiting. I am a new face, a diversion from the droning uselessness of the television in the corner. Maybe they wonder why I've come. Not for long. Their eyes are drawn upward to the ceiling tiles or downward to the worn carpet.

I pick the perfect chair. Not next to anyone, not near the door. Middle ground. Once you sit down the waiting grips you. It holds you captive, and you can only cross your legs and keep both eyes busy as the hand creeps around the clock. I am aware that the chair is plastic. It is not really comfortable, merely functional, lined up next to the others. The mauve hue matches one of the flecks in the carpet. I wonder who designs these rooms. The one who designed this one liked Monet. I would pretend I was in an art gallery if not for the waiting and the shabbiness of the frames.

I instantly take inventory of the people in the room as I shift in my seat. The shifting is important. Maybe I feel like I am progressing, going somewhere. The man across from me hasn't shifted lately I don't think. He has a small black earring in his left ear and a scraggly mustache that does not make much of a statement because it is so small. Or maybe his face is big. He is a big person and his eyes are fastened to the rerun in the corner. This could be his favorite show and he feels very fortunate that the television is set to this channel. His beady eyes move to the couple checking in. This big man is not here for himself. He is here for someone else. But he is waiting.

A white-haired man comes in the door. He is wearing white shorts, suspenders, a t-shirt and a white hat. He has tattoos on his arms and I think he is a Navy veteran. His nose is large, but his features are pleasant, though tired. He has seen many things, but now he too is waiting. He wants to talk to someone. He has stories to tell but maybe no one will care. His tattoos will be his only statement and they are green and faded. He sits stiffly in the mauve chair. Perhaps he'd rather be sitting in his lawn chair sipping a soda, but he is here in the waiting room just below the noisy tv.

The nurse calls out a name. If you see whose name has been called you can see a change in their face. First it is recognition. It is MY name being called. I am Taylor. I am Hempstead. I am Winter. Something clicks. The waiting is almost over. Legs come unstuck from the plastic chair with a sucking sound. They straighten their shorts, and head toward the hallway where the nurse is standing. No one looks back. At least not that I've seen. If they do it is to see if they've left their umbrella. You never know, it might rain today.

They say pictures are worth a thousand words, but I really like words, so I think I disagree with that statement. Words are powerful. I wanted to say a little about my children and what they're up to lately. As you can see in the pictures, Mac(10 months old) is pulling up and getting ready to walk. He loves electrical outlets and the fireplace so now he is learning what "no" means. He is a speedy crawler and loves following his sister around and seeing what she will do. If he wakes up from his nap before she does he crawls to her door and makes little frustrated noises because the door is shut. When we go in to wake her up he gets so excited and tries to dive out of my arms to attack her (which she is usually too grumpy to appreciate.) She makes him laugh more than anyone, and she talks to him just like she talks to us. I love love love watching their little relationship develop. They are already friends. Another thing I love that Mac does is get a toy and carry it around in his mouth, like a puppy. You can see how cute it is in the cookie picture.

Ruthie is such a little girl. She will only wear dresses, and has major issues when I try to convince her that a skirt and shirt is really just like a dress. She doesn't buy it. She talks all day long, and the conversations we have are priceless. She has a very lively imagination, and has fun cooking imaginary food, and talking on the phone with her imaginary friend. She still loves reading and amazes me with her attention span and ability to remember what we read about. Ruth loves our new house and one of her favorite things is playing in the backyard when Jay comes home from work. She also likes running in circles around the island in the kitchen. She runs and says, "I'm running in circles, I'm running in circles...etc." I found her a one-piece, bright green jammie with feet, and she calls it her "green bean" and is so proud because she can put it on all by herself. I'll have to get a picture of her in it.

We're settled in our house now, and I am loving it. It is very bright and snug. Some of my favorite features are: the big closets, the indoor laundry room, the dishwasher, and the garage. We have a toad that lives around the front door and eats bugs for us. We named him Hoppy Toad. I took his picture today as he was feasting on LoveBugs. He's very expressive as you will see. One very sad loss from the move is our cat, Wally. He ran away a couple weeks ago, and I'm hoping he found a new family that will take care of him. He was the sweetest cat I've ever known and we've had him since shortly after Jay and I were married.

Finally, I will put some pictures up of the baby shower we had this morning for my sis-in-law Kelli. She is having a little girl in October so we got together to shower her with what babies need the most besides love and milk...diapers. It was a really fun time with some strong coffee and some strong cake, both of which have kept me from napping and allowed me to sit wide-eyed at the computer, getting some things done. Congrats Kelli! oh and Greg too.

reunion

This past week I drove up to Birmingham, AL to see two of my roommates from college. It was my longest trip yet with two kids and let's just say I learned alot. (Like how many things you can do while driving, how long my 9 month old son will sleep on long journeys i.e. not long; and how long my 9 month old will cry while on long journeys i.e. a long time.) I was so glad to see Faith and Karenina, and Faith's little boy, Duncan. We remembered the fun times and tried to catch up on current times. Faith lives in California, so this was my only chance to see her for a while. Karenina lives in Birmingham, so I hope to be able to go up without kids and be able to catch up better. It is hard to do so with two kids in tow. Plus, Ruthie came down with some sort of "fever virus" and was miserable for several days. One happy thought, these girls will be sharing eternity with me. I know this for certain, and I think it will be time enough to sit and talk and laugh and share our hearts. But, I'll keep trying here too.

say what?

there once was a delinquent blogger
and everyone threatened to flog her
she said gimme a break
I just want a steak
And an unhurried game of soccer

news

Please note the new link to Beau Powers' blog. You can see his lovely wife and three sweet children. They have moved back to the Continental US after being in Hawaii with the Coast Guard. Welcome back Powers family!


In other news, our house is under contract, we have a contract on a new house, and my husband is serving with the Coast Guard in Cuba. He was supposed to be back in time for the closings, but that has changed. This equals a new level of craziness for me. I never, ever knew there was so much involved with moving. Growing up the Navy always moved us, which, let me tell you, is the way to do it. My learning curve is straight up. And my only prayer lately is, "Oh God, help me." He says "Be anxious for nothing," and I say, "Really? I think you're going to have to help me on that one. That is tough."

conversations with a 2 1/2 year old

Ruthie in the tub, pouring water from a little cup into a bigger cup. Jay and I watching.

R: It's juice, Mommy!
M: Neat, Rootie- is it orange juice or apple juice?
R: It's penguin juice. (very matter-of-factly)
M: Oooh. Wow.
J:Does it have feathers in it?
R:Yes!
J: Does it have beaks in it?
R: No, just feathers.

It's a miracle!

Before: AAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!





After:Thank you, Morgan!



Listen up all you sleepy housewives who wear makeup once a week, you bleary eyed working women wearing year old crusty mascara! Morgan Spivey of Mary Kay Cosmetics gave me a new face, and even plucked my eyebrows! She will help you!

poison

The couple approached the huge, pulsating amphitheatre that reeked of beer and sweat. One had misgivings, not being a huge Poison fan, but having enjoyed several of their songs from the late 80s and early 90s. She was expecting some scary die-hard fans all glammed out and ready to rock their heads off. She was expecting some people like herself, just looking to hear some of their favorite songs, ready to have fun. She was expecting her husband to let loose, wave his arms, and scream his head off. Not really, but that's what happened. The smoke was thick as they entered, and they picked their way through the crowd; people dressed to impress, including the bleached blond with the thigh high boots and jean shorts. The shirtless men all slicky with sweat had turned out, and they preyed on the women with their eyes, throwing back their adult beverages with great aplomb. You could see the anticipation in the eyes of the stringy long haired rockers with black shirts and ripped jeans. The increasingly entertained couple walked on. Standing outside the restrooms she spotted one of her high school coaches. He nodded, she nodded and smiled, and he kept walking, pressed into the mass of bodies and unable or unwilling to come over and strike up a conversation. Hilarious, she thought. The couple kept weaving through the crowd, finally finding their section, when one of their names was called. He turned and saw two people from his hometown, now married, calling his name. They are a similar couple, half of the couple knows all the words from the old Poison albums, and half knows some. They sat and chatted and the concert began. It was high energy and the couple was swept up into the excitement of the crowd and the amazing displays of wailing guitar talent, relentless drum talent, lights, flames and smoke on the stage. They watched the girl in front of them who wore pink knee high striped socks and danced as if the world was coming to an end. They sang every word to the songs they knew and generally acted as people do at a great rock concert. Fallen Angel, Something to Believe In, I Won't Forget You, Look What the Cat Dragged In, some great covers, and then the moment she'd been waiting for, Every Rose Has it's Thorn, one of her favorite songs. If only she'd had a lighter. The couple walked out of the amphitheatre behind the big woman with the pink mini-shorts that read poison across the butt, trying to ignore her wedgie, and the fact that her shorts were two-sizes too small. Next year the couple will know how to dress.

sell this house

Well, it is official. Our house is on the market. I'm not going to wax sentimental about this sweet house, I just know it is time to move, and I hope we can sell quickly and profitably. I will wax sentimental later, I know, because so much life has been lived in this house, but not now. As for the next house, we haven't found it yet, but we're looking.

fridge poetry

Yesterday I stripped my fridge of all it's kitschy decor: magnets, Ruthie's artwork, photos, clippings, comics etc. It is a heavy bag of stuff. Now my fridge looks naked and very white. One of my favorite things on my fridge was my fridge poetry-hundreds of words that you can put together to say things. I can get lost standing in front of the fridge rearranging, hunting, pondering and creating for longer time periods than I am willing to admit. I grew attached to some of our favorites so I thought I'd write them down and share them:

those shadows could chain them
leave their bitter road
smooth the frantic storm
with the light



rock you delirious goddess moon



your love is what I ache for



when tv is out tell a thousand lies



eat chocolate death symphony



heave after smelling his ugly facial sweat



whispering weak in love language



together think about blue blood show swim
after asking the purple sky



she is a true easy friend



crying boy wants mothers breast juice
she wants sleep
aaaah...milk drool


we sing away for sweet her


a retreat in winter please

(Those last three were from my newborn days with Mac. There were many months when Ruthie had to have us sing "Away in a Manger" every night at bedtime.)

A Day in Fairhope, Alabama

keep it frigerated

I pulled up beside this refrigerator today. The sign on it says, "Take Me."