A 6-week Thanksgiving Season

I wrote this a month ago on Canadian Thanksgiving, and just found it in my drafts. Fortunately, despite the stores already decked for Giftmas shopping season, it's still very applicable here!

In honor (or should I say honour? I never even spelled it that way when I lived in Canada!) of Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend, I would like to stop and say that I am thankful for:

• my fuzzy blankie, in which I am curled up right now (both when I originally wrote this, and right now!)
• our new hammock and the perfect trees to hang it between
• everything about fall - the turning leaves, cooler weather, pumpkins, cozy sweaters and scarves, my crockpot, and the fact that eggnog will be on store shelves any minute now (and now it's here! I have some in the fridge!)
• my job at a school for dyslexic children, and the opportunity to pick up the phone and offer hope and help each day to families who don't know where to start
• my health, and the fact that I can get on my bike or go for a run or pretty much anything I want to do (not that I always want to do those things, but at least the fact that I can...!)
• the ability to fall asleep easily and sleep well at night (and in the afternoon, and in the car, and in the dentist's chair...)
• maps and google earth, on which I can spend hours without even realizing it
• fascination for the world around me
• the ability to feel at home and among friends most everywhere I go
• the Asian markets down the street and creativity in the kitchen

And I've added some more this morning as I re-read this and got "in the spirit" again:

• my family and B.'s family, who have welcomed me as their own right from day one
• the ability to laugh at myself
• a 13+ year marriage that is only getting better and better
• New Zealand accents, because they're so much fun to imitate (it's our latest go-to for quick entertainment - no matter where we are and who's around. It's becoming a problem.)
• that I don't have to speak with a New Zealand accent all the time, 'cause it's actually really hard work
• weddings and other excuses for people to set aside their worries and fears and celebrate life and goodness and hope

Today I'm 34

At least that's what the sparkly wax candle numbers on the cake said.

Some say you're only as old as you feel, but how do you really put a number on how you feel? Some days I feel like a little kid trapped in an adult body, like on Monday mornings when I don't want to get out of bed and tackle another week of routine duties. And when my knees creak.

But honestly, most days I feel like an old soul trapped in a young body, one that constantly has people guessing my age in the early 20s. Everyone says I will appreciate this one day. When my hair color grows out between applications, I actually get excited to see the silvery strands around my temples because it justifies my feeling and knowing that I'm more mature than the twenty-something so many people seem to think I am. I mean, I don't want them to think I'm ten years older than I am, of course, but I do want that additional ten years of life experience and wisdom gained to count for something, to be acknowledged. I want to be taken seriously, treated as someone worth listening to, not written off as young and inexperienced who acts on whims.

I've done a lot of things, been a lot of places, met a lot of people, learned a lot of lessons. People frequently say I should write a book but that seems so vain. And besides, I know I'd never finish it, because the minute it was ready for the press, I'd look back at the beginning and say, "But I've learned so much more since I wrote that, I've had another experience that makes this thought, this chapter, now seem uninformed and incomplete. I can't publish this. I'll have to rewrite the whole thing." And it'd be a big waste of time.

Or would it? Maybe the process would help solidify some of the ideas orbiting my central processing system and bring some order to the whole thing. Maybe it would help me pinpoint exactly what it is that drives me, exactly what I want from life, and what I am supposed to bring TO it.

This might sound crazy, but I've always had a sense of a "calling" of sorts, that God would someday use me to speak about something important. I don't know what that something is yet, but I've always had verses like Matthew 10:18-20 jump off the page and get all up in my face.

Then I laugh, like Moses did when God told him to go speak to Pharaoh. What, me? The one who skipped every English class where I had to give a speech and took a big fat zero rather than speak to 25 other kids? Me, whose face and neck turn red and blotchy when I get up in front of people? Me, the one who's practically allergic to answering the phone or initiating a skype conversation because I'm terrified I won't know how to fill an awkward silence? Me, who used to write my whole message out on paper before calling someone, so I wouldn't ramble on for ten minutes and get cut off in the unfortunate case that I had to leave a message? (I actually answer the phone all day at work now - somehow the perspective of helping someone find a solution to their question or need is less threatening and makes it more of a fun challenge! I guess it's all about perspective.)

I know so many women who get to their 40s and seem so much more in charge, so settled with themselves, so happy in their own skin and minds and life in general. Do we have to wait that long? I want that deep confidence now. Why not?

Random Thoughts

Been a while. Trying to catch up after the week missed following the storms, and realizing that I probably won't catch up. Just have to pick the most important items on the to-do lists and hit those hard.

A random list of comments and observations, to match the scatteredness of my thoughts today:

1. At home in Canada we called peonies "PEE-uh-nies". In the South, people say "pee-OH-nies".

2. Yesterday I planted 4 varieties of tomatoes (Romas, an heirloom variety similar to Romas, an heirloom yellow pear tomato, and a bigger red and yellow heirloom called "Mr. Stripey" because I wanted heirloom tomatoes and liked the way they looked on the package). I also put in 4 varieties of peppers (sweet green bells, cute little red mini-bells, hot banana peppers, and jalapenoes), and some yellow crookneck squash. Also added Thai basil and boxwood basil to my already-planted sweet basil and can't stop thinking about it. I replaced the rosemary plant that I killed by putting it outside too early and freezing it to death. I'm very excited about getting the garden in two months earlier than last year, which means that we will have loads of fresh yummy stuff to eat this summer.

3. I got bit by a spider while planting everything, which raised much alarm amongst Southern family members on facebook, who were convinced I was going to swell up and die if I didn't immediately post a photo for their scrutiny, but it was not a poisonous spider and I'm still here to tell about it.

4. I really just wanted to talk about the garden getting planted, not go down a rabbit trail about spider bite deaths and dismemberments. One good friend was kind enough to just "like" the status update the way I intended it, and spare me the lecture. Hi Charity!

5. I got a piano. Now I have to practice so I can have skype piano concerts for my dad. He used to sit and listen to me play for hours when I was growing up. I think we both miss it.

6. I think I'm going to raid the school library over the summer and read all the great kids' books that have come out since I was 10 and reading fiendishly, staying up all night with a towel shoved under my door so my parents couldn't see the light coming through the crack and make me go to sleep. When they did make me turn the light off, I used to use the glowing red digits of my alarm clock as a reading light. No wonder I need corrective lenses.

7. Had a visit from an old friend last week on her way down to Texas, and may get to see her again this week on her way back up. We were friends in Minneapolis, but she's living and working in eastern Kentucky now. She's the first friend from the Minneapolis era who's been down here since we moved, so that was really exciting. I love the kind of friendships that pick up right where they left off and though you've been in different places doing different things, you've followed a similar enough trajectory that you have more than enough to talk about. It's kind of therapeutic.

8. I'm feeling compelled to make this list into an even 10, for reasons unbeknownst to me, so here's hoping this helps.

9. The neighbor is mowing his lawn and running over rocks or roots or something loud and chunky. It can't be good for the mower blades. Remind me to tell you some neighbor stories sometime.

10. Think I might go for a run before it gets too dark and before I get too hungry. It won't be dark for a while yet, but if I eat first, I'll have to wait for it to settle, and before I know it, it's time to set the alarm clock for work in the morning. Sigh. "I've got the Sunday afternoon bluuuuuuuuues, baby, take it away..."

I think this week will be busy but fun. Hope you have a great week too!

One Week Later: Remembering Tornado Day 2011

You know who your real friends are when something like this happens. They're the ones who try to contact you and make sure you're all right.

Apparently there were 215 reported tornado touchdowns in the Southeast, and 150 of these were in Alabama. In one day. They're still debating how many were "confirmed" vs. "reported" - that is, how many towns were hit by the same tornado as other towns, vs. separate funnels. Either way, it's interesting to see people from other places commenting later, after just seeing photos and footage, saying that they didn't realize how serious the damage and loss was here. We all think, "Oh, yeah, tornadoes. We have those all the time and it's usually nothing." That's what we were thinking too, until we were in the middle of it.

It started at 5 am with the sirens going off. Since I work at a school, I got a call at 6 am saying that we were delaying the start of school until 10 am, after the first band of bad weather passed through. There was more on the radar for late afternoon, so we figured we'd probably end up dismissing early as well. We ended up having to dismiss much earlier than we'd originally thought - 12:15. Only by that time, right as parents were arriving to pick up their kids, the sirens were wailing again, rain was coming down in sheets, and the sky was as black as night.

We are not allowed to dismiss children from schools while tornado sirens are going off, so any parents who arrived at that time had to come inside to the vaults in the interior of the building where the kids and staff were huddled. That band of storms passed through and we had a short break, during which we managed to get all of the kids and staff sent home except for one. A teacher was transporting a student who lived near her, far to the west of us, where the storms were coming from, so they decided to stay at school until it was all over. The rest of us made it home by 2:30 or 3:00, depending where we were headed, and in either case, it was just in time.

For the next 6 hours, it was like a tornado assembly line, starting in the west and coming eastward relentlessly. By the time one reached our area, there were two in line behind it, about 20 or 30 miles apart, following the same well-worn path. The same thing was happening in other areas around us as well.

It was actually pretty scary, when you had weather guys with twenty years of experience saying things like, "I've NEVER seen ANYTHING like this!" At first we were watching it on tv, but suddenly everyone's power went out in several counties at once. Not even the news station had power, and the local doppler radars and neighborhood sirens weren't even working anymore. People didn't know when or where the next one was going to hit.

We hunkered down in the basement with a battery-operated camping lantern and radio. Fortunately we'd grabbed a bag of barbecue chips and a couple of oranges from the counter on the way down there, as that became our dinner.

The news people were on the radio taking calls and relaying news from anyone who could still call in and report what they were seeing, or what they heard from friends watching the news in other states. We were hearing reports from towns in every direction around us. Whole neighborhoods and even small towns were being wiped off the map. People were showing up at hospitals with pickup trucks full of people with wounds from flying debris. Traffic was backed up for miles on the interstate west of us, unable to get past overturned semi trucks, sitting ducks crouching in their cars praying to escape the next round. And then it was dark. The storms continued a little over an hour yet beyond dark, revealed only by called-in commentary on the radio. Then they subsided, but only those with a radio knew that it was safe to come out of hiding.

We learned that a major power plant had been hit. They said giant transmission towers were twisted like tin foil, uprooted with their concrete bases in the air, and that 90 massive cables headed out of the main plant had snapped. Hundreds of thousands like us were without power and would be for anywhere from 3-5 days. People started panicking. With businesses shut down, where would they get food, ice, gas? Callers flooded the lines, asking where they could find a place to get oxygen tanks and plug in their machines for necessary medical treatments like dialysis. Many fled to towns over an hour away with power, and hundreds of cars flocked every open gas station and grocery store. Shelves were cleared of food, generators, and other supplies and draining gas reservoirs within hours.

Since we were fortunate enough to have a tank full of gas and a house to go back to, we were just dealing with the power outage. Of course we'd just gone grocery shopping the day before. We left the fridge and freezer shut and headed down to a town 70 miles south of us, where B.'s parents live. We charged our cell phones in the car and I spent the majority of that day on the phone trying to reach all of our staff and student families. I managed to get in touch with all but a few. There were some very close calls, but other than some trees down, our people and their families and homes are all okay. We stayed a night there, waiting for another shipment of generators to arrive at a local dealer, then headed back up to plug our fridge back in. Being the camping type, we were well equipped with gear already, so we were in pretty good shape. We did a lot of grilling and cooking on the Coleman camp stove.

There were news reports of looting at night, even a report of a looter being shot to death by a convenience store owner that first night we were away. They had to enforce a dusk-dawn curfew for any areas without power. It was like Mad Max, staying home after dark and hearing all the generators running, but it really did curb the looting problem. But I must say, hearing about the capture and killing of Osama Bin Laden on a battery operated radio in the dark in that context made it seem like quite an apocalyptic event.

There was also a lot of incredible help and support from all over the place. The disaster response teams' daily press conference, heard over our little radio, directed would-be volunteers to a couple of big downtown churches and community centers, and there was such a great response that they were having to turn people away in some of the hardest hit areas. We were encouraged to hear about a couple from Wisconsin who cut their Florida vacation short to head back up through Alabama and help out for a couple of days. Then convoys of power trucks came down from Nashville to help Alabama Power get things back up and running. Stores and gas stations got generators running and made the necessities available. The crazy lines subsided as people realized they weren't going to starve. Brian Williams came home early from London to report on the news here instead of the royal wedding. President Obama came to Alabama for the first time since he's been in office, visiting our hardest hit places, declaring many counties federal emergency areas and promising funds to make up for the loss and help with the rebuilding. The sun came out, but not too harshly, and the weather cooperated with relief efforts and the lack of air conditioning. More and more there were signs of sanity and help on the way.

Our power came back on in the middle of Sunday night, just over 4 days after it went out, and has continued to pop up in more and more places since then. Curfews have been lifted. Schools are still closed until tomorrow (Thursday), a whole week later. I went in and got the internet and phones back up and running this afternoon, and the maintenance crew was working on the air conditioning. We should be good to go in the morning, but the kids are going to be so excited that they probably won't get a whole lot done beyond sharing their stories with each other!

There's a facebook page where people are posting photos and documents found in their yards after the tornadoes, and B. found a picture of his great aunt in there! What are the odds of that? Someone found it in Athens. As far as we know the family is all safe, so we're trying to figure out who the photo belonged to, maybe one of her friends in Decatur? That's 15-20 miles away, but people were finding stuff from down here up in Tennessee, so it's believable.

Easter Afternoon Stroll in the Botanical Gardens

This is a bit belated. I started on it Easter Sunday, then had issues uploading photos, then this happened, so here it finally is.

Anyway, it seemed like an Easter thing to do, don a flowery sundress and meander through the myriad outdoor "rooms" of the local botanical gardens.

My first and favorite destination is the Aquatic Garden, with its koi pond and giant amazon lily pads. At first glance, I thought there was some construction underway, as they had the entrance taped off to the little round patio overlooking the water:

I almost moved on to the next display, but something caught my eye and I took a closer look at that planter on the right:

And a little closer:

See all the fluffy feathers underneath her? She's about to have a bunch of lil' fuzzy buddies waddling around behind her.
Awww.

Vacations and Returns

Since I work in a school I had a few days off for spring break. The weather was going to be crummy here, but not at the beach. We headed down for a few days in the sun and warmth, and it was everything we wanted and more.

Wednesday Night:

Monday Morning:

It was worth every minute.

A Little Excitement

Firefighters were called out to where we work this morning. They're still investigating what caused it so I won't say a whole lot, except that B. is a hero for alerting us to call the F.D., tearing an extinguisher off the wall (which he fortunately just happened to have hung there the day before), and helping get it put out even before they got there. The article that showed up in the news within hours of the incident gave the firemen all the credit. Oh well, they earn it.

The fire chief came back later in the day with some of his crew to give a little talk on fire safety for the kids.

Firemen: "You're probably sick of seeing us today."

Me: "Since when are firemen hard to look at?"

I mean, really.

B. wanted to be a firefighter for several years but I wouldn't let him. A 20-something widow wasn't really on my short list of career moves. Now that I'm a 30-something, that hasn't necessarily changed, but I do think he'd be a really good firefighter. He's so alert and aware of his surroundings, so decisive and quick on his feet. They've come a long way with the gear and technology they employ to keep the guys safe out there. And I have come to embody the sterotypical female swoon in the presence of the uniform. What does it mean?

The alarms continued for a while as they tried to get the system reset, then our power went out. It was one of those days when you just wanna go home and have a drink (which we did). I am SO ready for Spring Break. For the first time in forever we are making some plans to get outta town and do something fun. I will never catch up on work after those few days off, but after days like today I won't anyway, so at this point, what's the difference? We're goin' to the beach!

Let's Get this Garden Started!

When we lived up north and traveled a lot, we used to have lots of little get-togethers with friends, sometimes planned, other times spontaneous. They usually involved some good food, crazy dancing, and some sort of rallying chant, like "Party! Pizza Party!" or "Bar-B-Q! BBQ!" or "USA! USA!" or the one that prompted the title of this post, "Let's Get this Party Started!"

After a few deeply philosophical and political posts (sorry, it's all that's on the news these days!), I got a hankerin' to lighten up a bit and write about the garden. It's March. The tulip trees have already bloomed and released their intoxicating scent and then spontaneously combusted in a mess of petals all over everyone's lawns. Daffodils have poked up at random intervals along the monkey grass border, beaming sunny smiles to all who look their way. Irises and daylilies won't bloom for a bit yet, but their brand new green foliage is coming in thick and lush and tall. Garden stores have put out their flowers, herbs and vegetables for the general public to peruse and take our chances with.

I've been pruning old dead stuff here and there. First it was the brown, straw-like fronds from last year's daylily foliage. I cut those off and pulled them out of the lily bed, where they were acting as a sort of mulch over the winter, and tilled them into the vegetable bed, along with some fresh garden soil to help boost this year's crop of tomatoes and peppers and such.

Next, I got rid of the spent, dried stalks of kitchen herbs in the concrete planters on the patio to make room for the young green shoots that have started to peek out. I'll probably need a new rosemary plant. I had one in the kitchen over the winter, but I got a little overeager and put it out a little too early one warm sunny day a month or so ago and forgot it out there overnight to freeze.

Then B. sharpened the shears for me (the ones I should have been using instead of a knife the summer I cut myself pruning holly, but couldn't 'cause they were too dull...but that's old news) and I gave the crape myrtles a haircut. Before we moved here, they'd been chopped off low, at a height of a couple of feet, even though the trunks were already about 4 inches across, and lots of little strappy suckers were growing all over them in every direction. I did some research on pruning them and repairing the damage to get them looking more like their natural shape, and we cut them "properly" last spring. Though there are places that may never look normal, I'm happy to report that the places we cut have mostly forked like real crape myrtles and healed themselves by growing bark over the wound so that many of the new forks look like they naturally grew that way. Hooray!

[This is another place in this blog where photos would be really timely and helpful. One of these days, I promise, I'll go back and insert some good ones. When I have some free time. And a good camera. And some motivation. I was motivated tonight, but for other things. Shoe shopping, grocery shopping, filling up the car. It was at 1/4 tank when I started. I stopped at $30, thinking surely that's about full. I started up the car to drive away and the needle jumped up and stopped at 3/4. But I digress.]

Yes, the garden. Tomatoes, a variety of peppers, lettuces, cilantro - basically a salad/salsa garden. I'm also thinking I may need a zucchini plant this year. Just one. I know they come in little pots of about 10 plants at once, and I always have such a hard time throwing a plant away. But I also know how zucchini can take over your life and I'm trying not to overcommit to too many relationships right now. My mom grows so much zucchini that she's always trying to find people to give it to. She picked 10 squash one weekend, so she brought one to church and stuck it in the offering basket. She sneaks it into the most unexpected recipes (my dad is so onto her) and gives it away to everyone. Which would be great if she wasn't the only one doing it. In their small Canadian town, the only time people lock their cars or houses is during zucchini season, to keep it out.

Chant with me, "Let's Get this Garden Started! Let's Get this Garden Started! Let's Get..."

Thoughts on Japan

B.'s family lived in Tokyo for a few years when he was little. We've talked about going back to see it, and looking up his friends from the Japanese yo-chin (kindergarten) he went to. Someday we probably will.

His mom showed us pics this weekend of a family vacation they took one summer, at Sendai beach of all places. It's pretty weird to think that these people I know and love actually stood on the very spot that was the hardest hit. Back then there was a huge stone sea wall in the water a few hundred yards out from shore to break the waves and shelter the swimming area. It's completely gone now. Thank God the friends we currently know over there are safe, and their families are too.

It's weird to think that the earthquake and tsunami happened in the middle of the afternoon, with the sun shining. All that water gives you the impression of a storm, of clouds and dark grey swirling skies, but it wasn't a hurricane. It washed over and then subsided. And the sun kept shining. Must have been pretty surreal.

We once had the unforgettable opportunity to visit Auschwitz in Poland, and had the same sort of strange realization. We'd only ever seen it in black and white photos and video, but in person that bright, sunny afternoon, it was unexpectedly...pretty. The grass was a vibrant emerald green, and flowers bloomed in neat beds around the tidy buildings. Groups of schoolchildren and tourists from all over the world roamed the grounds, chatting quietly amongst themselves. It was almost impossible to imagine the violence that took place there not all that long ago.

I say this not to belittle the loss of life and home, but to step back and take in the grand scheme perspective. This, too, will pass...at least here on this side of the globe. I saw a map of all the nuclear reactors in this country and there are three right here in our city, of the same type that are causing all the concern now. But just like the oil spill didn't change our demand for the stuff, neither will this change our lifestyle, unless we suddenly decide to acknowledge the simple laws of cause and effect again like we used to. Wonder why simple logic doesn't seem to motivate people to change anymore? Is it because we are accustomed to being able to pay to make uncomfortable things go away? Hmm. Time to sign up for a psychology course. It would be either a fascinating or maddening field of study, but you wouldn't know which until you were right in the middle of it. I'm sure, like anything, it would have its days.

I have paused mid-errand, mid-task, several times in the last couple of weeks, and just thought how strange it was that here I am going on like nothing happened - because over here it didn't - while entire cities, a nation of people, are paused, watching the news and waiting for word from loved ones, for a final tally, for some good news, some answers, some hope, anything they can hold on to, the way we did ten years ago this September. I hope and pray they find that, and that somehow they come out stronger on the other side.

A Sunday Morning Devotional

Ever wonder why they put political commentaries on tv on Sunday mornings, right before everyone goes off to church (or, in many cases, to serve as a poor substitute for church)? I don't watch them "religiously" but find that when I do, even for a few minutes, they get my blood pressure up. I start arguing back at the talking heads and scrolling ticker messages. What is it that stirs so much emotion?

This morning I just glanced up for a second from the kitchen sink and saw something about the battle between the two sides over finances, and felt that same surge of anger. I didn't even have to hear a word of the dialogue. I suddenly realized what it is that bothers me so much.

The whole thing makes me feel like a kid whose parents are on the verge of divorce, who is afraid of having to choose which one to go and live with. A kid who has seen the struggle, the incompatibility, the disunity, for years, but only in short glimpses because they always seemed to keep it under wraps better than they do now. A kid who has gotten used to the power struggle and learned which parent to ask for what when the other isn't in the house. A kid who thought she could muddle through the controlled chaos until she was old enough to leave home and get some fresh perspective, but suddenly finds she may be forced to do it sooner. A kid who can't choose one flawed side over the other and just wants to get as far away from the whole thing as her little rattly piggy bank will take her. A kid who realizes that she is, at least for the moment, on her own, because the people who are supposed to be looking out for her well-being seem to only be concerned about themselves and winning the argument right now. A kid who one day will look back with the wisdom, experience and compassion that comes with age and realize that the forces tearing her family apart are not flesh and blood, but spiritual powers she hadn't yet begun to understand.

And then I snap out of it. I remember that the political parties of this nation, no matter how much sway they may hold over the lives of others, are not my parents. This is not my home, not this city, not this nation, not this world, nor the systems devised by its best and brightest. My home is somewhere I've not yet been, yet I feel a nostalgic longing to return there. I cling to this. I ignore the signposts of this world and set my compass in this direction.

Romans 8:18-24 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved....

March Showers

What happens when a Japanese cargo plane blows up mid-flight?
It rains Datsun cogs.

Thank you, thank you very much. Actually, you can thank my dad. Don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from.

It's raining Datsun cogs today. The grass is turning bright green, the tulip trees are blooming profusely, and everything else is starting to bud. February showers have brought us March flowers and the March showers bring that brilliant greenness that lifts the clouds from your soul and puts a sparkle in your eyes.

April showers, however, will bring suffocating humidity, so we're quite happy right where we are.

It's finally time for my favorite sky-blue rubber boots! Or bubber boots, as I'm more prone to call them. Hooray! I remember as kids walking to and from school in the spring, my brother and I used to pass an empty sunken lot with a foot-deep standing puddle in it. We'd walk out on the edge of the melting ice until our weight broke us through it, then slowly, carefully wade out toward the middle, watching as the water crept higher and higher up our rubber boots. Finally one or the other of us would venture just a millimeter too far and get the inevitable "booter" - the sudden, shocking sensation of your whole boot instantly filling with bone-chilling ice water - followed by screams of shock and laughter. Then, of course, the comedy of trying to balance on one foot while emptying said boot, without tipping so far over that the other boot became inundated. This generally worked better on the way home from school, rather than to it. Good times.



P.S.

Made the local paper. Second time in 2 years of living here (vs. once in my whole lifetime before that, if I'm counting right, and that was for a "Keep Christ in Christmas" art project a friend and I made for an elementary school contest. Way back in the day when one could still utter the words "Christ" and "Christmas" in a school). Anyway, back to the present day - if you scroll through the gallery for this event, you might find someone that looks a little like me.

Black Ties and LBDs

Going to a lil' shindig tonight to shmooze with the elite. Not my usual scene but there were extra tickets. I'm not usually a social-anxiety-haver. But this thing has me all out of sorts for some reason. I'm feeling about as apprehensive as B. would have been if it was still looming on his agenda. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for the opportunity to get to know new people, have a memorable experience, fabulous food and drink, and of course for the purpose of the event in the first place - to benefit programs for people I know and care for.

I think I'm afraid of standing out like a sore thumb, like a "you're obviously not from around here." Like I'll show up in sensible, well-balanced, closed-toe shoes when everyone else is wearing little strappy metallic ones they can't walk in. Or the other way around. I was talking to someone at work just yesterday about the whole southern "no white shoes after labor day" thing, how most of the average people don't care one way or another, but will still follow the rule out of fear when they're sure to be in the company of high society, sorority girls, and the like. I suspect this place will be positively swarming with them, bless their hearts. Do people really still care about dumb stuff like that? Really?

The gentleman who dropped off the tickets at the office yesterday said that if our gentlemen escorts didn't have tuxes, they could probably get away with a black suit and bowtie in the ambient lighting. B. wasn't about to venture into that formal wear world. He *might* have done so if some of our close friends were going to be there, and if he could get away with wearing some black Chuck Taylors instead of stiff, pinchy dress shoes with soles that scuff the dance floor. But not this time. From what I could tell, though, neither were many of the other husbands, so I'll be meeting some female colleagues there instead.

So, what to wear? I have never had a little black dress. I finally recently ordered one, and it's due to be delivered Monday. The soiree is tonight. Today is Saturday. Did you do the math? To be fair, I didn't know I would have a ticket until yesterday. So I have a little shopping trip to make today to hopefully find a top that I can wear with an appropriately fabulous skirt I have had for years but never, ever had the opportunity to wear.

The comforting thing about that skirt is that it's floor-length. That means I don't have to shave. Because without fail, shaving before a stress-inducing public event means nicking myself just enough to bleed like a stuck pig, and having to head out the door with little squares of toilet paper stuck to the bloody spots in a vain effort to keep it off my clothing. Which creates another challenge, namely, to remove the little squares from my skin without setting it off again before we arrive and are photographed for posterity. Don't believe me? I did it the afternoon of my own wedding. To my armpits. With a sleeveless dress. It all worked out in the end. #Idonwannatalkaboudit.

Anyway, the skirt. I think it still fits. I guess it's about time to go find out, seeing as I also still have to wash my hair and fiddle with it for a few hours. I'm quickly running out of time.


Post-Event Update:

- Skirt still fit. Score!

- Found pretty but practical top to wear with it, and whenever else I feel like it. Score!

- Found bonus chunky necklace and small clutch purse on sale at last minute. Score score!

- Dusted off some bridesmaid shoes from my college roommate's wedding. Still just as uncomfortable as that other day I wore them 12 years ago, but did the trick. Check.

- Hair took just 10 minutes to pin into a fun updo that stayed put all night. Score!

- Turns out Southern high society folks are just normal people who were probably all too concerned about their own outfits to worry about someone else's. Ran the gamut from flowy, elegant satin dresses with fur wraps to tight, clingy dresses presumably stolen from their teenage daughters' closets, and no one seemed to care one way or the other. People watching was much fun. Score!

- Almost unwittingly offended one of my tablemates, another "not from around here" with a fascinating accent, by asking him where he was from. He answered my question with "Where are YOU from?" If I HAD been from here, he probably would have been irritated, but when I said Canada, we got into a fun conversation about Canada, Panama (where he was from), and all sorts of other things.

- Ate tender, juicy sirloin steak, fried oysters, cajun shrimp, crawfish cakes, cherries jubilee cheesecake, and all sorts of yummy accoutrements, not to mention the wine and some coconut rum concoction. Score score score score score score score!

- Bid on a couple of items at the silent auction, and came away with a birthday gift for B. Can't spoil the surprise (of course that would take him discovering that I've been blogging and actually reading it all), but ask me in a few weeks. Hey, it was for a good cause. Looked it up online and figure I even got a deal! Score!

Will Ride for Egg Rolls

Rode our bikes down to the landing this afternoon. There's a nice little greenway on the south end of town that goes all the way to the river. To be honest, I wasn't all that excited about getting on my bike after a few months of cold weather and holing up inside with the electric blanket. It was sunny and looked warm, but I knew that wind would whistle in my ears and make 'em feel achy. But when B. mentioned stopping for egg rolls, well, that upped the ante.

There's this tiny little gas station on a crossroad, practically in the middle of nowhere, but it's positioned right across from some boat docks and, of all things, a racetrack. It's owned and run by an Asian man, Y. (by his name I'd guess he's either Chinese or Korean). We asked his name the first time we went there, and he just pointed to a little dry-erase board above the counter, where he'd written it so long ago it had all but rubbed off already. Apparently he gets asked that a lot. And apparently, it's such a chore to try to communicate with the locals on the outskirts of town that he'd rather just point and let them read it themselves.

Today was a case in point. The guy in line in front of us asked if he had any fried chicken. Then he asked again. Before Y. could even answer, the guy started jumping all over him, going, "What's the matter? Cat got yer tongue?" Y., not about to be belittled by some redneck in his own store, said, "You don't even give me time to answer! You ask too many questions." He didn't have any more chicken. The guy left.

He actually didn't have egg rolls anymore either, this afternoon. He makes them from scratch several times a day, and they are so darned good that they were all gone by the time we got there. We take that route when we visit the in-laws, and we stop in every time we go past just to check if there's a fresh batch. The first time we bought them, before taking the to-go container out to the car, B. asked if there was any sauce. "No sauce," said Y. "Sauce is for bad-tasting egg roll!" Fair enough. These turned out to be so saucy and flavorful on the inside (but not drippy - just right) that you really don't need any. They're big, too - folded more like pudgy little envelopes than the tiny rolls you usually get at restaurants. Maybe the best egg rolls we've had. Good enough to get me off my butt and make me ride a bike a good half hour each way, just in case there were still some left.

Even if there had been, I'd have burned off the calories preemptively by going to get them, so it would have been a win-win. I actually came out ahead this time, calorie-wise.

And then came home and ate some leftover Chinese food we had in the fridge.

Year of the Rabbit

Okay, so I had an off year. A friend (jokingly?) commented on facebook around the new year, "If 2010 was a person, I'd punch it in the face." I think I might be able to say that about mid-2009 to mid-2010. The latter half of 2010 was pretty darn good. But with only one post for all of last year, compared to 16 the year before, I guess it's time to get back in gear.

I have good excuses - not that it fills the gaps with reading material for my imaginary readers, but I guess it makes me feel a little less unproductive. The first half of the year was taken up with some medical issues, and then shortly after the last post mid-year, I got a full-time job. Yay! I've been working as a school administrator and I love it. I went from no kids to suddenly having dozens of them. They are cute and hyper and they make me laugh all the time. But at the end of the day, they go home in one direction, and I go in another, curl up with a cup of tea and my computer or a book or something, and hit the reset button. When I'm not doing "homework" of course. But that comes with a cup of tea as well. Truth be told, I don't go many places without a mug of creamy tea in hand.

B. got a job too...and wouldn't you know it, we work not just in the same part of town but in the same building! Doing very different things, but we were able to arrange things so we have the same schedule. We commute together and even have lunch together. It's been great for us.

Work was especially busy at first since the previous girl in my position had been gone for several months before I came, and school was starting in about a week. For B. too, as his team has been pushing hard to meet a big deadline. I appreciate the busy time these past few months for a couple of reasons. One is that it helped us make the transition to feeling like productive members of society again. But mostly because it has made me remember why we went on our sabbatical in the first place. We had gotten so burned out, trying to spin way too many plates, and we turned into different people that neither of us wanted to be, or be around. Once we both finally got jobs going again down here, we vowed to manage our commitments more wisely and have tried to hold ourselves to that. For the most part, despite some crazy days and an occasional bout with my stubborn savior complex, I think it's working.

One such crazy day in particular - a Monday, no less - we ran some errands after work and arrived home hungry, tired and cranky. As we pulled in the driveway and walked to the house, I wracked my brain trying to figure out what I had in the fridge or freezer that could be cooked up quickly for dinner. Then we opened the door and walked in to the most savory, mouth-watering aroma: roast beef with a hint of mustard sauce. Somehow, in the craziness of the day, we had both forgotten that we'd left the crock pot slowly simmering a little slice of heaven. It was melt-in-your-mouth tender. I reheated some leftover rice pilaf, threw together a simple salad, made a sauce with the meat juices from the bottom of the crock pot, and dinner was ready in 5 minutes. We devoured the whole thing.

It wasn't the first or only blessing to come our way this new year - nor the most significant - and we're only a month in. Thanking God that the proverbial wind has shifted (even if proverbial winds bring abnormal amounts of literal ice and snow for these parts). What else does 2011 hold?