Oh Happy Fall!

Happy first day of Fall! Or Autumn? Which do you say? Autumn seems formal to me and I never say it, but I do like it on signs and note cards.

It doesn't quite feel like Fall yet in Texas. The forecast for the next 10 days has us peeking into the low 90s for highs. And really, this shouldn't be a shock to me. I've resided in Texas my whole live long life! Except for three months of EUPHORIA in Yellowstone National Park back in my college days. I was there from mid-May to mid-August  of 1995 and it snowed at least once each month I was there. That was an adventure for this Texas gal all by itself.

I'm a roots girl who thinks she want's to be less bound. I'm sure it's a natural progression of life. My son, my one and only child, is a senior this year. We are way busy with college plans. Testing, and applying, and preparing for auditions. And once he starts college, what next? I mean, I know there is more. I look forward to days of not being bound by a public school schedule. But I'll miss it too. Mostly, I'll miss what I already miss - his littleness, and introducing him to the new and novel.

I'm excited for him too. He will be finding his own path and he has plans. Big plans. I'm looking forward to him seeing them through. Though knowing he will have heartbreaks along the way, makes me want to steel my heart - an impossibility really. Mommas of boys, you understand, right?

Amid all these feels, however, is a sense that I need to step back, to pare down, and to adventure more. It's confusing really. I pray for clarity and there are times when I see the path I should take so clearly, it's as if God wrote a love letter right on my heart. But mostly, I feel like I'm treading water, not sure which way is the shore. I don't blame God for this. I'm positive He's there, waiting to guide me, as soon as I'm ready to focus on Him and listen. Why is that so hard to do?

Starting out and winding down

My sister-in-law im'd me at work yesterday:

     Julie: Well... Elias starts Pre-K @ Edison
               I have my very first "Meet the Teacher" on Aug 20th
               I am nervous... any words of advice?

She and I are in different places on this parenting gig. My one and only starts his senior year later this month. While her oldest of three starts Pre-K.  What we share is the commonality of being moms who work outside the home. And so we also share the commonality of specific feelings of guilt.

I'm a deep feeler. But it's not easy for me to express those thoughts and feelings. Verbally, I trip over my tongue and blunder and see the words I want to say march across my brain, but mostly they never find their way out of my mouth. When I write, I'm able to express a bit more, but it takes me a long time. There is no easy flow from thoughts to fingers on a keyboard. And so, in times like these, I am mostly at a loss to find comforting words to give. Yesterday, I spoke/typed from my heart, and while not eloquent, the words are sincere.

1. Teachers are just people. They don't know everything. But the good ones do have your kid's best interest at heart. Listen to what they say (whether good or bad), but trust your gut. And  remember, no one will fight for your kid like you will. Period.

Just be sure what your fighting for is actually worth the fight. Because sometimes, it just isn't. And the thing that NEEDS to be fought for will come along.

2. Sometimes your kid will be the best at things and sometimes the worst at things. But most of the time, he'll be right in the middle. That's ok.  Make your goal be to insure he is doing the best HE can. Comparison is the thief of joy...and all that.

3. Kids will say and do mean things to him sometimes. Teach him that their opinion doesn't matter and doesn't change his worth. You will straight up find yourself wanting to kick a 5 year old's ass. Take a deep breath and hold your tongue. By the way, you will never like that kid. Even when your son is a senior. ;)

4. As hard as it is to watch him lose a bit of his sweetness due to the meanness he encounters, remember that ultimately he is learning to cope in the real world, and that will be character building for him.

5. Be as involved as you can be with school activities, but don't beat yourself up when you can't be there. He will know how hard you tried for him. (I think all mommas carry guilt for a variety of things to do with their children, but the guilt of not being available to attend all the things is a particular guilt for mommas who have jobs outside the home.)

6. And finally, cherish it! You will be sick of signing papers and listening to halting reading and when he counts he may skip the number 15 every time and it may drive you crazy and you may think EVERY OTHER CHILD can do this, why can't you!? And you may take away a toy because you just know that he isn't trying his best. .. He is, mom. That number 15 just escapes him. But he will remember it eventually, and life will go on. And you will carry the guilt of that overreaction...even when he is a senior in high school.

What heart advice would you share with a momma sending her first one off to school?

I think about these things

This morning nothing was doing but I have some glazed donut holes with my coffee. I parallel parked right smack at the front door of the town donut shop, scrounged around in my purse for cash, and just as I was going to slam my locked car door, I noticed my keys laying in the passenger side seat. I snatched them up and threw up a prayer of thankfulness to the good Lord.

Because the last thing a chubby girl who lives in a little town of 1200 folks wants to do is lock her keys in her car. Before dawn. In front of the donut shop. Amen?

Spilled coffee, and other things I won't let ruin my day

I always buy coffee at McDonalds in the mornings on my way to work. It's convenient, and McDonalds does coffee right.

This morning I stopped at my usual McDonalds, ordered my usual coffee and egg white delight, and drove up to the window only to have the large, hot coffee SPILLED into my window, and onto my lap. It burned a little, but not long, and the thigh of my right leg was completely soaked. After getting a second cup of coffee,[because I'm addicted], I pulled into a parking space and got out to mop up the mess.

With everything as clean as I could get with disintegrating napkins, I realized I was going to be late for work.

Sigh.

I actually thought to myself, "This should put me in a bad mood."
But I didn't want to be in a bad mood.

Last evening had been spent with other band moms, putting together spirit cans/noisemakers for upcoming competitions. That was joyful!

I had visited with my son this morning and got to tell him that the Lord truly blessed me when He made him my son. That right there? JOY

There's a decent cool front on the way for the weekend and October is my favorite month of the year!

These are just a few of the wonderul happenings in my life at the moment. So I decided not to give in to the negative. I've decided I don't want my emotions or moods to be so easily controlled by societal norms, or my perception of them.

I'm realizing I've been living a life over the last couple of years, of letting life "happen" rather living purposefully.

It's time for a change.


And on other joyful notes ♪ ♫ ....

I found a piano on craigslist and bought it! I'm thinking piano lessons might be in my future.

Guess who else likes Aunt Mamy's piano? My great nephew Aiden!

 I really need to get my big girl camera out and practice...

It's Saturday. We just got home from bass lessons, hobby lobby, hair cuts and Indian food for lunch.

It's chilly. Not quite 50 degrees F, but we have the living room windows open. A light breeze is making the wind chimes tinkle and Rainer is outside barking at squirrels and other perceived creatures that are the call of the wild to him.

Lately, I've been hearing lots of coyotes in the evenings. I don't recall any other year that I've heard them so close since we've lived in town. On Thursday night, coming home from working the concession stand (this is the season of life I'm in...concession stand volunteer) for a track meet, one ran in front of me on the busiest street in town. Odd. And then again on the highway that runs through town. Do you call where you live a city or town? With a population of around 1250, I live in a town for certain!

I started an afghan in January for a birthday that happens in September. I'm using Hobby Lobby's I Love This Yarn brand yarn. It's sturdy, soft and inexpensive.  Win x 3! BUT, now I'm having the hardest time finding coordinating colors because both of the stores nearby have had a very scant selection since Christmas. And they are also sold out on line. I started to panic and emailed Hobby Lobby headquarters. They said they had some trouble with a supplier, but things were straightened out and they would be re-stocked soon. I'm still waiting!! :) And while I'm waiting, I bought some other yarn to make a baby afghan. What's one more WIP?

I'm rethinking my photo wall and have been doing some heavy pinning on the matter. I haven't updated in a while. I'm going to keep some of the photos and mix in some new ones. I want to coordinate the frames in some manner, but not too matchy matchy either. I'm still researching the design, but the other night I did find one of the photos that will go up. It is from Pensacola Beach last year. I think I'll get a 16 x 16 canvas made of it. Looking at it makes me long for June and our next trip to the beach.

Happy Saturday!

so I drank the orange juice

I've been doing the Weight Watchers for 2 weeks and 3 days now.

It's going well. I have been able to stay within my points target and I'm not walking around in a state of hunger.

I think I can do this. Like, forever.

It's true what they say. Planning is key. I am improving on the planning part. And I am praying, because I know I can't do it alone.

Today was a challenging day. Ste was sick and I stayed home with him. There was excessive sleeping, weird eating times, and an emotional visit with an aunt.

Still, when evening came, I had plenty of points left for Taco Soup with baked tortilla chips and light cheese and a Weight Watchers treat for dessert. Nice.

Then I streamed the latest episode of Parenthood. {Love that show. Cry. Every.Single.Episode!}Anyways, there was a commercial for orange juice. And that was it. I had to have orange juice. Delicious, cold orange juice. BUT... no points!

I ignored it for a while. And then I remembered that I'm not dieting. I'm changing habits. For life. I'm not always going to be able to stay within a points parameter. I don't live in a vacuum of perfect structure and laid out meals from here to eternity.

Besides, drinking orange isn't what made me fat.

So I drank the orange juice.

And I'm ok with it.



[week 2 weigh in: total of 8.4 lbs lost.]

The post in which I talk about being Fat...

Even as I'm typing this, I'm not sure I'll hit the publish button. But I feel driven to put it down in writing. And if I can't put down my most constant and hindering struggle on my blog, what's the point of my having a blog at all? This is the journal of my life. And only posting the highlights makes it seem fake. And whatever else I may be, "fake" is not one of my characteristics. In fact, "fake" people make my ass twitch.

See, I already feel kind of guilty about saying ass in this post. Because I'm also going to talk about God. And surely a woman who declares she is a Christian wouldn't say ass. But there's that fake thing again. Because I cuss every day. I'm not proud. It is just a fact. My son will tell you I have a problem with the word whore. It's true. I drop something, I say, "You whore!" I don't know why. And I AM working on that. That's part of me I don't like. But, I say it. That's a fact.

It is also a fact that I am fat. Obese. Fluffy. Living large. I don't think I've hidden that fact on my blog, but I typically only post pictures of myself from the shoulders up. And if more than one of my chins are showing, I edit the extras off. {ummm..FAKE!}

So...here's the most recent full body picture I have of myself and it was taken last June. LAST June. I don't want to be afraid of the camera anymore.



Since I'm being honest {not fake} - I also edit my eyes in hopes of lessening the appearance of my undereye baggage. Here ya go - full on baggy eyes picture.



{hey, I didn't say I wasn't cute!...wink, wink}

Ok, I'm losing track. The point of this post is to say I am doing Weight Watchers. Again. I'm trying to change my habits. Again. Only, I don't want to say "again." It's just that when you've tried to lose weight as often as I have and you have FAILED...you don't want anyone to have the chance to say it first. A lady in my Weight Watchers meeting on Monday evening started crying as she shared she was keeping her participation a secret from her husband. She just couldn't bear to see the disappointment on his face if she FAILED. Again.

I get this. Though the disappointed face I don't want to see is my own.

On to the most important reason for my post today. My friend, Cindy, is on this weight loss journey with me. We attend meetings together. We were IM'ing this morning. I was lamenting over just HOW MUCH weight I need to lose overall. She was encouraging me to make smaller goals, take it a day at a time, etc. At the conclusion of our conversation, I picked up Jesus Calling, a devotional I am reading daily. For January 18, I read:



I am leading you along the high road, but there are descents as well as ascents. In the distance you see snow-covered peaks glistening in brilliant sunlight. Your longing to reach those peaks is good, but you must not take shortcuts. Your assignment is to follow Me, allowing Me to direct your path. Let the heights beckon you onward, but stay close to Me.

Oh, the JOY I felt at reading those words! The reassurance that he knows me! That this would be the devotional I read on the exact day that I needed it. Encouraging me to perservere and work for my goal and accept it will take time, there will be struggles, but if I follow Him I will soar.

You see, sometimes I think my weight loss is part of a bigger plan the Lord has for me. In my heart, I believe if I can conquer, if I can trust in the Lord to help me conquer, this weight loss thing, that he will reveal to me other pieces of His plan along the way.

And it will be greater than anything I can possibly imagine from where I am standing now.

By the way, week one and down 4.4 lbs.

Today's drama

I subconsciously snoozed the alarm this morning. Five times.

I was late for work. And I didn't even have time to shower. Grody.

I did, however, have time to stop at McDonald's for coffee and fruit and maple oatmeal.

I have my priorities.

Work was productive for the most part.

Except when I mailed a 6 figure check to a vendor when I was supposed to hold it for pick up.

Highlight of the day? IMing with my friend, Cindy.

We discussed, in depth, the possibility of going vegan in January.

You can laugh. It's ok.

I worked until 5 to cover for a co-worker having a dental extraction.

Of course, Stephen got out of football practice early on the day I work late.

First call:

"Can you come get me?"

"No, I'm at work. Catch a ride."

Second call:

"I can't find a ride."

"Seriously? NO ONE will give a ride?" rolling my eyes at the drama, and then "Walk to your Aunt Jill's"

Third call:

"I got a ride home, but YOU have my key and I'm locked out."

"Enjoy the outdoors! Or go to one of the neighbors or your (other) Aunt's house."

I arrive home and Stephen walks around the corner, in shorts and t-shirt, fake shivering, as if I've asked him to sit outside in below freezing weather. BTW - it's 55 degrees. AND he has a bag with him which contains sweatpants and a hoodie. [do not feel sorry for this boy!]

Oh, and that other aunt lives not even a block down the road.

Today = Drama.

I have accomplished a little creating this week; I finished my first loom knitted hat!



Friday

It's Friday. Yay! Football. Band. At my alma mater. WooHoo!

The weather is fallish and fine. Though, I'm ready for some cold. Yes, it's early November. In Texas. But, unh, still. [imagine a stomping foot]

Last year we had no winter. No Snow. NO Snow!

Now I have scenes of White Christmas running through my head. I'm on a train with Bing Crosby. Singing.

I'm Rosmary Clooney. ♪ ♫ NOoooooo SNooooW! ♪ ♫

I'd totally dig a Vermont style snow. Right here in North Texas. Yeah buddy.

♦

Weekends. I love them! Stephen and I are working UNT Concessions tomorrow to help raise money for band boosters. A.LOT. of our time is taken up with band. It's cool. He digs it. Therefore, I dig it. Virgil will be at the hunting land. Getting ready for the Thanksgiving weekend hunt. Hope my boys get a deer. Mostly hope they enjoy the male bonding stuff. Weird.

Stephen texted me from school earlier this morning, "Will you plz make big red ice-cream this weekend/:0/"

Umm...kick some butt on the football field tonight and we'll see, buddy.

Seriously though. He's requesting Big Red ice cream. In November. We need COLD.

And hot chocolate.

Big Red ice cream is for summer. July. To keep us from melting.

♦

I want need to craft this weekend. Must finish the hat I'm loom knitting. Start a new hat. Sew a couple of Zippy Strippy Blankets, and start on a batch of little somethings I'm making for the little men in my life.

Love my nephews and great nephews.

So glad I'm past the 2 yrs old and younger stage of parenthood. Whew!

♦

Also want to make something yummy. Too bad a grocery store has to be involved.

So going to be a Stephen chore when he gets his license.

:)

If you asked me...

If you asked me, I'd tell you I'm happy Spring is here.

If you asked me, I'd tell you I've been feeling edgy. (spring fever?)

If you asked me, I'd tell you I can't wait for Jaxon to be born. (Colleen's due date is May 8)

If you asked me, I'd tell you I'm learning that simple really fits me.

If you asked me, I'd tell you Stephen is growing up too fast and the fact that he will be in high school next year kinda freaks me out.

If you asked me, I'd tell you I don't mind that I'll turn 40 this year. (even though I kind of do mind)

If you asked me, I'd tell you I haven't cooked for my family in over a week.

If you asked me, I'd tell you I'm itching to create.

If you asked me, I'd tell you my car isn't running, but I've enjoyed riding to and from work with my hubs.

If you asked me, I'd tell you that watching Stephen perform in sports or in music is one of my greatest, simplest, fulfilling pleasures.

If you asked me, I'd tell you I have 101 things I want to do around my house, and that would probably be an underestimation.

If you asked me, I'd tell you I should be working because my 15 minute break is up.

So, I'll get to it!

:)

right now

Right now the house is quiet.
From my recliner in the living room, I can hear the steady, musical whistle of Stephen's breathing as he sleeps.
From the opposite side of the house, I hear Virgil's deep, even breaths with an occasional snore mixed in.
Even Patch is curled up on the couch snoring.
Only Rainer and I are awake. I am in my recliner. The only sound from me is the clicking of the keyboard as I type.
Rainer is silent, sprawled on the white clothes that were washed earlier, piled on the couch and never folded. I should shoo him off the clothes, but we're content and I don't want to disturb him.
His ears stand up and he cocks his head toward me if I happen to strike a key too loudly.
There has been nothing unusual about the day. Virgil and I worked and Stephen went to school. Stephen walked around town. I prepared supper. There was reading and gaming and TV watching. A typical school night (only no homework due to State testing.)
Yet, sitting here, listening to my family sleep, I am overwhelmed at the wonder of my blessings. I want to savor the moments with my family, however mundane. I want to cherish the happiness, the contentment. I want to recognize my blessings and thank the Giver of those blessings. Life is not static, but whatever happened yesterday, and whatever happens tomorrow, I am thankful for the quiet moments of tonight and the love that lives in our home.

I remember a dump truck

I’m pretty sure I had the best dad ever. He’s been on my mind a lot lately. Yesterday would have been his 77th birthday and I would have loved to have celebrated it with him. Of course, he’s praising our heavenly father…could there be a better birthday celebration? No way!

Yesterday, one of my coworkers brought his daughter into work for a short time while his wife was attending a meeting. As I listened to her happy chatter, my mind warped back in time to the late 70s and early 80s when I was the chatterbox at my own Daddy’s elbow. Daddy drove a dump truck at this time in our lives. He hauled dirt and gravel, and I surely don’t know what else, for various construction projects.

google images

I didn’t go to work with Daddy often, but when I did, oh, what a treat! I remember bumping and bouncing along in that big, old, yellow dump truck. Scattered about me, on the seat of the truck were coloring books and crayons, baby dolls and trucks, and books and chalkboards; plenty to keep a young girl busy. Daddy’s old, black, battered lunch box and a thermos of coffee sat in the seat between us and mid morning there was usually a Little Debbie Oatmeal Pie and milk fished out of the box for me to enjoy while Daddy dumped his load.

etsy

At midday, Daddy would pull that big truck into the parking lot of a small store in Lake Kiowa. He’d help me out of the truck and hand in hand, we’d make our way to the back of store and the old lunch counter. Though our lunch was usually brought from home, we still sat at the counter with the other men. I said my hellos, and I’m doing just fine, thank yous and then quietly ate my sandwich, listening to the rumbling words and laughter of the men at the counter. I loved watching my dad with other men. I recognized the respect he was given and I was proud of him.

During these times, I’m sure I filled my daddy’s ear with endless chatter about whatever was important to a 6 or 7 year old girl of the times. He would respond with “Mmmmhmmm” or “We’ll See” or “Is that so?” But sometimes, he would simply nod. I didn't have to see him nod to know
he acknowledged me, to know he believed in me, to know he was there for me -- no matter what.

That's the childlike faith I'm seeking for myself now. I want to live my life BELIEVING my heavenly Father, my God, my creator. Believing he acknowledges me, believes in me and is ALWAYS there for me. Even when answers to prayers take longer than I think they should (you know, not instantaneous ;) ), even when the answer isn't what I WANT. Thank you, God, for keeping your faith in me, even when I let my faith in you falter. ♥

growing pains

Something has been eating at my boy for the last few days. Oh, how I questioned him and oh, how he clamped down, became agitated, and oh, how he acted as if "it" was no big deal {you know, that, "Mom, this is so NOT important to me" attitude.}

And so, I shut it down. I tried to drown my worries in mini cupcakes, to tamp down the aching in the pit of my stomach with mindless pinterest perusal. And, finally, I remembered to pray. Hate that it takes me so long sometimes. I prayed on it and prayed on it. I prayed for him. I prayed for me. I prayed for the others indirectly involved. And the most amazing thing happened.

I let. it. go.

I let GOD.

Why do I fight it so much? Letting GOD have the worry? geez

After work today, I laid down for a bit to get rid of a headache. Stephen came home from school and laid down beside me. We talked about his Algebra tutoring, and how track practice was going, and then he opened up. And I listened. I encouraged. I watched my boy take a step toward manhood as he worked through some growing pains.

And I thank God for helping me to be still.

today

I am home today. Woke up with one of those headaches that get worse every time you move. And, if you move anyway, makes you nauseous. Then Stephen vomited. Sure, he's old enough to stay at home by himself, but he's still my baby. And besides...this headache.

I like being home. Prefer no one to be ill at the time. If you asked me, I'd tell you I think women or at least one parent should stay at home until the kids are grown. Of course, that is completely opposite of what I've done. Hind sight and all that. I might even elaborate and say both parents being in the workforce has been a major contributor to the downfall of the American family. And I'd assure you, that yes, I really believe that. Quanity will never win over quality. In my opinion.

Anyways, there would definitely be a few less people I'd like to high five in the face with a chair if I could focus on being wife and momma.

My head is full of projects and parties. So many projects I want to do around the house and hosting 2 parties soon - My sissy's (Carla) 50th birthday, and my niece's (Colleen) baby shower. I ♥ family parties. I think I need to make a list of the projects. I don't focus well. Adult ADD?

Healthy eating. I like it. So why do I have such a hard time doing it on a regular basis?

Sugar? Addicted lately and hate the way it makes me feel. So gonna kick the sugar thing in the face. NOT. WORTH. IT.

These things have been on my mind today.

When it takes a figurative 'smack in the face'

I guess you never stop learning. About yourself. About others. About life in general. It's not a revelation really. More of an acceptance. The thing is - when you're young, and the learning is more the general knowledge variety - it's fun! But as you get older, learning gets painful. All the cliches you've heard your whole life like "You can't please everyone all the time" suddenly are real. And the cliche is true, but it's not painless. It's not innocent. Because when someone is not pleased, that means they're displeased. And displeasure is accompanied by discontent. And sometimes sadness. And sometimes pain. But the big accompaniment is disappointment. Disappointment is a breath stealer. Infringing on the lungs of not only the disappointed, but the one who disappoints. Stealing away life giving air until the thoughts that crowd the mind of both, shout "Look what you caused! You're a bad person." And who can live like that? So both - the disappointed and the disappointer - inhale deeply and say, "I'm going to be the best me I can be." And they take a step forward and away, not realizing they're on the same path. They're just walking in different directions.

One more day..

On Sunday I happened upon a radio program where people were calling in and telling how they would spend one last day with a loved one who had passed away.

Normally, I would have immediately changed the station.

I don't do well with mushy.

However, my parents have been on my mind even more than usual lately, so I listened to one caller.

And then I changed the station to NPR.

But that didn't stop my mind from mulling over the question for myself. The answer came immediately and with certainty.

If I had one more day to spend with my parents it would be a beautiful Texas Spring day. The sun would be shining and there would be a light and lovely breeze with just a hint coolness to caress our sun warmed skin. Various family members would be lounging in the assortment of rusting lawn chairs Dad has collected over the years. At least two of the grandchildren would be swinging in the metal "porch" swing that has hung for years from one of the huge oak trees in their yard.

Their children would be gathered and would be enjoying each others company. Because that is what made my parents happiest.

Dad would be amused at something my sisters and I were discussing.

There would be lots of teasing among my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews.

Mom would laugh out loud at something shockingly funny.

Most cherished would be the stories from my parents. Stories of their childhood, early married life and of when my oldest brother was just a baby. The stories would progress to times after various of their children had been born and as each siblings' memories ripened the stories would become embellished with each person's memory of the happenings.

Iced tea would be consumed.

Love and contentment would rule the day.

And that's how it would be if I had one more day with my parents.

I hEaRt Fig Newtons!

I love Fig Newtons. Maybe its because my Papa Wooten always had Fig Newtons when I was a little girl and was always ready to share with me when I visited. (We also took several walks down to the little store on the square for moon pies and RC cola!)

Or maybe I love them because my dear husband told me that wasps lay their eggs in Figs and so that when I eat figs or Fig Newtons that I'm eating wasp eggs. Why would this entice me to love? I dunno, but its a little creepy, right? And it doesn't gross me out at all. And, amazingly, it doesn't gross my hubby out either and he can't even pull hair out of drain without gagging. (tehehe) But, I digress!

The point of this post is that I found these this weekend:

{nope not a 12 pak...I swiped this photo from Amazon}

These are awesome! And eating two of them on a drag-butt morning at work is an awesome pick me up. And they're 100% whole grain...that's got to be better for you than the original! Right?

PoWdErEd

When I was prego I ate a 6 pack of Mrs. Bairds powdered donuts and a 20 oz Dr. Pepper for breakfast everyday! And I only gained 20 lbs my whole pregnancy. Oh to be 24 again! I also ate copious amounts of chewy sweet tarts, tacos and orange sherbet. I don't think I've had a chewy sweet tart since. There's really no point here - except to say that I had powdered donuts for breakfast this morning. And they were yummy. And I'm thankful for powdered donuts because, dadgummit, sometimes a gal just needs to ingest refined flour and show up to work with powdered sugar stains on her shirt. And, BTW, those donuts come in an 8 pack now. The package grew...kinda like my behind....

Where have all the fireflies gone?

(photo from www.stumbleupon.com)

I've been missing fireflies - or lightning bugs, as I grew up calling them. I remember many early summer evenings dashing about under big oak trees grabbing lightning bugs and quickly depositing them into one of Momma's canning jars. [And, yes, I mashed a few to take advantage of their glowing juices!] Is there anything more defining of rural summer youth? Well, maybe swinging from a knotted rope, hung on a sturdy tree branch and dropping into a refreshing body of water!

About two weeks ago I asked my hubby, "Where have all the lightning bugs gone? Do you suppose the fire ants have gotten them too?" He was as nonplussed as I.

And then, on Saturday evening, exiting Spinelli's Restaurant in Mena, AR, I spotted one! And I think I probably squealed in delight! And I implored V to drive to the back of the parking lot under some trees and look out onto a small meadow lined with more trees. And there my friends, were lightening bugs. LOTS of lightning bugs. And so we sat and Stephen had his first delightful experience with these charming insects.

Isn't it neat how God does that? As if to say, "Yep, they're still here. And so am I."

rainy days

I love rainy days. And when they come in the summertime, they are extra special to me. I love the sweet smell of summer rain as it approaches, and the fertile smell it leaves behind.

This morning I had the pleasure of waking to a rainy day. A stormy day, in fact. The wind chimes swayed in the window, their deep tones accompanying the approaching storm. The trees bent and swayed and the too long grass in the backyard rippled in the wind. And as our quiet home slumbered, I watched lightening play along the horizon and heard thunder grumbling in the distance. As coffee brewed in the kitchen, I waited for the rain to come and refresh my town, and me along with it.