Number Twenty-Four

Somewhere in the middle of my New Year’s Resolutions, between Soul Winning more and finishing that quilt I started an eternity ago, you’ll find three words carefully penned.

Read More Books

A long time ago, before I ever finished High School or applied for my first job, I would spend hours at the library. I craved adventure, and a good love story rolled into one. Sometimes, I wanted history plain and simple. I had stories at home just waiting to be written; all of which needed history and facts and reality woven into every chapter.

And as the smell of old books and knowledge filled my senses, my fingers ran over dozens of titles and finally a handful of thick adventure would fall from the shelves and into my eager hands.

But somewhere between cramming for finals, preparing for graduation and packing all my life into storage bins and heading off to college, I forgot the thrill and adventure that reading offered. The library no longer held a sense of wonder or fascination to me, it was just another quiet place to study. A place where no one went to socialize, where phones were forced into silence, where people more often than not caught a few minutes of much-needed sleep, their heads resting atop a pile of textbooks and notes.

No, the library was just another place for me.

And so, finding it one of the easier things to check off on my New Year’s Resolutions and plans, I headed to the library in search of just one book that would either make or break #24. I would give it one more chance to thrill and amaze me, to take me to places I hadn’t been in a long, long time.

But then, one book turned into three. And I found myself holding my breath from page to page, the clock ticking well past midnight. It was suddenly an obsession, this reading a book from cover to cover all in one night.

I love those books that inspire, that pull you into an amazing plot and grip your heartstrings in warm love and wring it out of all emotions, good and bad. I have an insane respect for authors that write in such a way that you forget what you’re reading is just another work of fiction. The characters come alive just as the author has conjured them up and imagined them to be for so many months.

For me, that’s what I missed the most. The power of a good book . . . The honesty, and the beauty, the inspiration. I just love it!

Baby Cakes, I Tried.

Just the other night, we were all heading home from church. It was the usual chaotic mix of voices of three different conversations talking around the other. I was busy flipping through emails via my phone, occasionally reminding Abs to sit back in her seat so she would be safe.

Music drifted through the van, an unecessary background noise. The munchkins were shoulder to shoulder in the backseat, laughing about a joke someone had told. It was a normal Wednesday night drive home, everything was just as it should be. No one really thinking much about anything else except getting home and grabbing a snack before bed.

But then, out of the hum of voices and stories and smothered laughter, my mother's voice raised three notches. "No! Oh no, you're going to hit it. Honey, watch . . . "

And you must realize that it's an awful lot of dialogue to be happening in just the split-second of time it happened, but my mother talks fast when something big happens.

Six little heads popped to attention from behind the driver and passenger seats, six little heads craning their necks and peering into the dark night ahead to see what had happened. What the thud was, why the van swerved suddenly, why Momma was talking fast, why Daddy was saying "Honey! I tried . . ."

Those six little voices raised in chaotic vocal confusion. A slew of questions came piling from the back of the van, and there wasn't much sense you could make of it really. Springing into thoughtless action, everybody started answering everyone else's questions. Thus, more chaos errupted.

"What was it?! Did we hit something? Was it a cat?"

"Yeah, we hit something. I don't know what it was. Hold on . . ."

"Was it a cat? Brit! Was it a cat? Did we just hit a deer or something? SOMEBODY tell me if it was a cat!"

Each question came from the little guys, and what the girls and I didn't know we leaned into the front seat to figure out. None of us knew, Momma and Daddy were still Honey, I didn't see. Why didn't you swerve? -ing.

If there's anything you don't do, it's push my buttons when I'm just as lost as you are. And yes, I'm still working on improving that. But seeing as how I haven't gotten there just yet, Abs asked me a hundredth time, "Did. We. Hit. A. Cat?!!"

I'm human. I turned in my seat, almost buried beneath a handful of winter coats and bags and munchkin things. "No Abs! It wasn't a cat . . ." Much calmer, I added "I think it was a possum."

This caught Mommy's attention. Daddy was saying, "Baby, it's just a possum. And I couldn't get over in time, it's okay. At least I tried." Mommy was explaining they were Marsupials and they carried babies ~ like little Beans, she said ~ in their pouches kind of like Kangaroos. "Aw, the poor little thing! It probably had little babies . . ."

Typically, my father isn't a cold-hearted man but sometimes he really does just delve deep into a situation and find the worst kind of humor. Thus, he begins to crack up unbelieveably and says "Aint no more Beanie Babies now, Baby Cakes!"

My mother didn't appreciate this as much as he did, obviously. So he attempted to make amends, "Well to my credit, there was a big one over at the church the other night. I could've shot it but I didn't."

"The tires roll on the just and the unjust, I suppose." Mckenna piped up rather stoically from beside me. Ever the little comic, I daresay. Momma did kind of laugh over this, so it was all was fine and good after that.

It's times like this when I want to put such memories in a big Mason jar and save them for a rainy day. Hmm . . . what a wonderfully, happy little thought! * winks *

They've Done It Again.

First, there was Flywheel. Next came Facing the Giants. And then came Fireproof, the BEST movie on rebuilding your Marriage that I've ever seen! In fact, its one of the only movies I've seen like that. With each film, Sherwood Pictures has gotten even better.

Alex and Stephen Kendricks { producers } have done it again. Courageous is another amazing movie that encourages, inspires and motivates Fathers to be better. To enjoy the small things like Daddies dancing with their little girls on a bright sunshiney day . . .

Stressing the importance of Purity | The Unsurmountable Love of a Father's

Heart | and the Value of Patiently Waiting on God's Timing.

Fatherhood is about rising up to take the challenge of helping your children to be all that they can be, to enjoy their Spiritual walk with the Lord, to grow and learn. Four men discover amidst the rigors of life on the Police Force . . .

 . . . the commitment to Fatherhood. To be the leaders they need to be. To be the loving support for their children, taking the time to do special things with them small and large. To make the moments

count for something.

I would definitely encourage you to watch it as soon as you can get your hands on it! Right from the get-go it pulls you into the movie, which is pretty awesome for all those people skeptical of Christian films.

And it's an emotional roller-coaster but you will really enjoy it from beginning to end because the message through out is an AMAZING one! One minute we laughed, the next minute we were crying. It's incredibly heartfelt. And probably . . .

One of my new Favorites!

Impossible Perfection

"What if Marriage weren't for our Happiness, but rather for our Holiness?" This is the question a man named Bill posed across my radio this morning as I got ready for the day. That's something good, I thought to myself. But seeing as how I wasn't married and it didn't really apply to me, I didn't give it much thought.

"Along the same line of thought, what if that could be said of every circumstance in our lives?" Nancy Leigh DeMoss asked just a moment later. And this, this is what caught my attention. All my life I've loved working to get everything to the peak of Perfection. * cough *

No really, I have.

And as I listened to today's Revive Our Hearts, I found myself coming to this realization. What if God chooses not to allow everything in our lives to be Perfect, so that he can strengthen us? To make us more Holy, rather than Happy?

Worldly happiness won't last of course, and thats what I'm striving for when I'm doing things here and there. Knowing that if everything is organized | spotlessly clean | stress free | and without a boatload of problems and heartache to accompany it ... I will be one happy girl.

But whoah! When I heard today's segment, the mental brakes slammed to a screeching halt and I thought, What an awesome concept. So simple, but what a neat way to look at all the circumstances in my life right now that I wish weren't the way they are!

It doesn't mean we don't do our absolute best from here on out. I think it means that we do our best, but not break our necks trying to make things Perfect and miss what God is trying to teach us. Hmm ... this is huge for me today. I hope you'll find encouragement in your devotions today! I know that between mine and Revive Our Hearts, it was just a great jumpstart for my whole day! * smiles *

Valentine's Flowers

Do you know how crazy it is to wake up and look at the same old things every morning? Every little thing a familiar blur as you climb out of bed each morning? Nothing having changed in a very long while ...

The winter blues have taken a toll on me suddenly and realizing that Valentines Day { a favorite of mine } is just around the corner, I decided I'd get a jump on some little projects. I've slowly begun collecting things here and there and I found these cute little paper flowers.

Soon, I'll be posting some pictures of the valentines projects I'm working on. But for now, see what you can do with this. Michael's currently has a bunch .... BUNCH .... bunch of Scrapbooking Papers on sale, so I stocked up on a few this afternoon.

But I stumbled into a Valentiney kind of mood and thought I might as well get a move on and do something about it, hmm? Besides, Valentines is one of my favorite days out of the WHOLE year. I've still got a handful of Roses I've collected from the ones my Daddy has given me over the years. I have sooooo many happy memories of Valetines days growing up.

Maybe that's why there's always this sudden excitement when the days start winding down to that one, and the stores are pulling out all the stops. Maybe so.

Enough * Gabbing * for one day ...  P.S. While I'm at it, all the credit for the following tutorial goes to Darn @  Dawn's Stamping Thoughts.

.....................................................



(1) Cut eight flower shapes from your paper. I did four out
of cardstock and 4 out of a book page. I punched circles
and then scalloped the edges by hand to make the flower shapes.

*  Note * If you are using cardstock, spray it lightly with water so it is more pliable. (You may want to use a paper towel so they color doesn't bleed onto your counter top. Just sayin'.)


(2) Crumple each flower shape, then smooth
it back out ... it will look wrinkled.



(3) Stack each flower onto a brad. Be sure to start with the paper you want
in the middle of the flower. I started with a book page and then alternated
with the red cardstock.

Close the brad and it should now look like this.

Starting with the top layer, squish the paper around the brad in
the center. Continue for each layer until the entire flower 
is scrunched together.

Now flatten the petals back out just slightly until the flower takes the
shape you want it to. If you have used wet cardstock, it will harden
nicely into the shape when it dries.

And there you go! I'm sure you could find a LOT

of ways to use these.

Modern Day Mayberry

I shivered against the early morning cold. It's the middle of January, yet we had only had a light snowfall so far. The sky looked grey and cloudy, it even smelled like snow today ...

No sooner had I climbed into my car, the phone rang. "Hey Brittany, it's Jay. How are you?"

"Great, how are you?" My voice sounded less than peppy, barely alert. My breakfast of hot Tea and Toast hadn't done much for me this morning.

"Good. Hey listen, there was an incident this morning," I heard him sigh, and I wracked my brain for what might've happened. I could think of nothing, he continued. "A car was stolen and they've gotten as far as Palmyra ... the police have dogs and everything covering the area but they asked everybody just to hunker down."

"Oh, really?" I shifted gears. This would make for an interesting work day for sure.

"So if you get to the office before I do make sure you lock the doors behind you. If it's open when you get there, don't go inside just call the police."

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled the keys from my coat pocket. I tried the door once and when it didn't give I breathed a sigh of relief. The office was quiet when I stepped inside, something somewhere beeped. Our server would be down again, I guessed.

Still feeling the need to be cautious, dramatic visions of men crouching in the lab danced through my head. Laying my bag on the high counter, I took my keys and walked the length of the hall, my Dansko's thudding solidly against the old refinished hardwood floors.

As I walked, I flipped on every light within my reach. It was cold and univiting still, soon Frances and Tara would be here before I knew it and our day would go down with a flair of excitement no doubt.

And just like that, Jay breezed through the building in his typical morning style. He greeted us with a "G'Mornin'" like always as he made his way back to his office. Two minutes later, he reappeared. This time he wore scrubs, he was shaking his head.

"I tell you what." He was doing it again, using one of those Finn expressions. He looked like his son all grown up. It sometimes makes us smile. Big hand gestures and all smiles, just like Finn. "There must've been six to eight cop cars in my driveway when I left this morning. Man, it was crazy."

"Six, Jay? Why were all them cop cars at your house?" Tara leaned against the doorframe, her eyes wide. Apparently, the guys that had stolen the car had only gotten as far as Jay's driveway on their blown-out tire and had taken off down the woods. The police suspected they were armed ... We listened in fascination, such excitement for a tiny town like ours.

"Yeah, they came banging on the door seven o'clock this morning. Shining those big lights all around our porch, 'State Police! State Police' . Man, It was just crazy."

And that is how our day began, and it is only just begining to wind down to a close. We haven't heard yet if they've caught the guys but everybody up and down the road were standing around in the parking lots and in their front yards talking about it. So much for hunkering down I suppose. * winks *

These are the days when it feels like I'm living in a Modern Day Mayberry. Even the small things are exciting, keep everybody abuzz. Everybody knows everybody and everything ...

But really, it was a great day. Johnna didn't come in yesterday or today ... I think she must have more Faith in me than I have in myself. So when I stumbled upon something I didn't know, or doubted, I trekked down the hall to Jay's office and asked him a hundred and some questions I know. Thank goodness, we all work as a team and everyone's so very patient with one another.

I have to admit, I wasn't sure about this whole day. But I prayed constantly, in between patients and while I was assisting. It was a really, really good day. And there's a chance we'll get some sort of mix tonight, so I'll be * hunkering down * next to the woodstove all weekend with a stack of books. Hmm, doesn't that just sound like an amazing idea?

Enjoy your weekend! And try to stay warm and cozy if you can.

The Word Is: Harmless

"I just don't get this, okay?" Joshua shook his head, rubbing frustration from his eyes. He had been tackling this particular page for maybe five minutes, every minute just creeping by. "I think I just need some help ..."

"Yeah, you need some help alright." This came from Mckenna, smirking behind her school box. The boy was sitting between us, on his knees. This is the way he usually sits on the benches on either side of our long kitchen table. He was glaring at Mckenna now, with feigned disgust. I don't know how he does it; even managing to hide those delicious little dimples of his in the process and looking so much like a man. * sigh *

Twelve seconds later, after the staring episode has come and gone, he's bent low over his school book and scribbling words down. He's talking to himself ... "She wants to die today, I know she does."

It was asking alot, holding back the smiles that suddenly tugged at the corners of our mouths. In fact, it was almost impossible. The munchkin child noted this fact and the dimples were back, he was intentionally goofing off to make us laugh.

"So what IS the word, Joshy Washy?" I leaned over, taking a good long look at the page he had spread across the table. Pictures of Animals littered one side, snakes | birds | fish | lions. He pointed to a word with one finger, chancing a look at me from the corner of his eye. It was then I knew he just wanted to socialize, he really did know the word. * winks *

"Welp, it's Harmless. The animals are Harmless. And ... is that sun bothering your eyes, Brit?" He squinted up at me randomly, then ducked low as the sun shined over my shoulder directly in his eyes. "Man! Somebody move that curtain will you?! Ugh ..."

Ok, I was done. No more holding back the laughter, the smiles. Mckenna and I looked at each other from across the table, Where did this child come from anyways?!

This is a typical school day around here, crazy | insane | ever comical. Only this morning, the fire has died somehow ... well really, it was smothered into non-existence. My little men are running around in holey jeans { the knees busted out in one or two from hours of playing cars in the dirt } and pretending like they're warm, while their sissies bundle up in sweaters and socks and consider getting the stove going again. Brrr ....

Well, I suppose there really is no other time like the present! * smiles *

Tasteful Tuesday

Makes 12 Tortillas

It's been a great new year so far, trying all kinds of recipes and combinations, putting spins on old things and finding I like a handful of new ingredients in some of my old favorites. The latest, corn on my Fajita ...

I never thought to try it, though I had seen it in Mexian restaurants countless times. But yesterday, we had a split meal ... which is basically, two meals in one. We had Fajitas for some people, Grilled Chicken and Mashed Potatoes and Corn for others.

Without thinking much about it, I tossed some corn into the mix and discovered with a smile that it was good. If you haven't already figured out, I'm a lover of Mexican food.

If we had it at least once or twice a week it's almost promised that I would be the last to complain ... SO! When I found this easy, EASY, easy recipe for  tortillas.

As much as we eat Mexican food, I thought these would be a good idea to keep in mind!

Ingredients

• 2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, plus a little extra for rolling the tortillas
• 5 tablespoons vegetable shortening, lard or 2 1/2 tablespoons of each (for the most authentic version)
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup very warm tap water

Directions

Combine the flour and shortening in a large mixing bowl and work the shortening into the flour with your fingers until completely incorporated. If this isn’t done thoroughly (until no particles of shortening remain visible), the tortillas will have an irregular texture. 

Dissolve the salt in the water and pour about 2/3 cup over the dry ingredients and immediately work it in with a fork; the dough will be in large clumps. If all the dry ingredients haven’t been dampened, add the rest of the liquid (plus a little more, if necessary). Scoop the dough onto your work surface and knead until smooth. It should be a medium-stiff consistency – not firm, but not quite as soft as most bread dough either.
Divide the dough into 12 portions and roll each into a ball. Set them on a plate, cover with plastic wrap and let rest for at least 30 minutes – this makes the dough easier to roll.
Heat an ungreased griddle or heavy skillet over medium to medium-high heat.

Flatten a ball of dough, flour it, then roll forward and back across it; rotate a sixth of a turn and roll forward and back again; continue rotating and rolling until you reach a 7-inch circle, lightly flouring the tortilla and work surface from time to time.

Lay the tortilla on the hot griddle (you should hear a faint sizzle and see an almost immediate bubbling across the surface). After 30 to 45 seconds, when there are browned splotches underneath, flip it over. Bake 30 to 45 seconds more, until the other side is browned; don’t overbake the tortilla or it will become crisp. 

Remove and wrap in a cloth napkin placed in a tortilla warmer. Roll and griddle-bake the remaining tortillas in the same manner – stack them one on top of the other in the warmer.

Six Minutes after Twelve on a Sunday Afternoon ...

An uninviting cold did nothing to motivate me out of bed. My phone vibrated noisily, endlessly against the metal of my side table. I felt blindly around until my fingers wrapped around its plastic body then finally opened my eyes. It was Sunday, I had no alarm.

"Hey Buddy," I said, jumping out of bed and leaning into the cold window. I yawned sleepily, but the adrenaline was already pumping. Seven AM calls on a Sunday morning were never something I anticipated. Michael's voice was shaky and low on the other end, I swallowed as I listened to him. He was asking me what I was up to ... Crazy boy, I smiled. I rubbed my eyes, willing wakefulness into them. "I just woke up, how about you?"

He coughed once, and I chanced a look out into the cold gray morning. I had every intention of layering to the nines, the thought of freezing to and from church didn't appeal to me.

"Victoria's in the hospital." My heart slammed into my chest. The three seconds it took him to catch his breath left me wondering if I should be glad or worried. "She's having the baby, but everything's going good. I'm so excited!"

I have always deeply appreciated the way Michael tells me things, important or not. I never know up from down until I've gotten him to explain himself. Sometimes, it even makes me smile. And this day was no exception. But this time, my body trembled slightly with excitement.

Today was the day! I pictured myself writing * Welcome Baby M into the world! * in my New Year's Planner just four days ago. I had sat there in flannel pjs and a cup of Vanilla Tea, day dreaming. She was sure to be a beautiful baby, yes. Adored and spoiled, that too.

And here she was, three weeks early too! When I hung up the phone, my hands shook. I couldn't stop smiling. I wanted to go to the hospital, I wanted to sit around the waiting room waiting for her to make her first appearance. Instead, I got ready for church in record speed { I don't think I've gotten ready this fast since I was seven, really }.

I played for choir, my hands shook. How was she? Had Baby M arrived? I glanced at the clock ...

Six minutes after church let out, Michael called again. This time, he was freaking out. He sounded like he was smiling around his words. "Seven Pounds, Four Ounces!" was all he said before I let out some sort of squeal.

 { to be continued ... }

Six Minutes After Twelve ... Part II

I pulled Ugg boots over my striped socks in a hurry, the clock was ticking. My heart raced against the seconds hand, but to the world I was composed, calm even. The little guys followed me up the steps and walked in circles around the kitchen, making the big loop through our living room. They peppered me with questions, directions ...

"Tell Victoria hi for me," Abigail said, shoving her hands into the pockets of her denim skirt. She was growing up, I could tell she would've gone with me if she'd been old enough. Instead, she leaned against the counter watching me as I dug my keys from the bottom of my bag. "And take lots of pictures of the baby."

Nodding my head I promised I would do my best, then grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Joshua thundered through the hall with the lightning speed of the seven year old little boy he was, "Wait Brit! Kisses." We crouched low by the vintage Singer that stood a short distance from the front door, he threw his arms around my neck. I realized he was getting taller every day. Such a little man.

Thirty minutes later, I drove in circles around our new hospital. It looked more like some sort of resort rather than a hospital. Such a nice place for a baby to be born, I thought as I finally parked in the garage that towered overhead, and waited a handful of seconds for the sparkling glass doors to slide open.

Three nurses directed me down a series of halls, long and short. I paused momentarily to match the room number to the bright yellow piece of paper in my hand. The nurse had scribbled four numbers on it before pointing me down the first hall where a little boy played a baby grand piano so beautiful & simple it warmed my heart.

I knocked three times gently on the thick door, it was cracked slightly and I saw Chase coming towards me. He smiled, "Hey! Did you see our baby?"

I smiled back, and moved past him. I explained the little maze it had been to make it just to their room, but I would love to go see her in a minute. The man beamed proudly, I swear he was glowing. Victoria was beaming, she wrapped her arms around me in a sweet happy hug.

Several minutes later, I stared at a tiny little bundle of goodness through inches of glass and a handful of nurses checking on the infants, making their rounds quietly. My breath caught in my throat, it felt funny to speak. "Chase ... she's so beautiful."

I was in awe, simple as that. She was perfect, with a crop of fuzzy dark hair and wriggly little body. She wimpered, we saw her wave her balled fists in the air. Her daddy sighed a long deep sigh, he sounded happy and content. It warmed my heart ...

You'll be hearing lots more about her, there is no doubt. She's a tiny bundle of Sweetness and in fact I'm going back to the hospital in a little bit to see her again. I'm so thankful that everything went so well, she's healthy. Mommy and Daddy are getting what little sleep they can and not really minding terribly much. Hopefully, I will be able to post some pictures for you soon ...

Until then, have a Wonderful Monday afternoon!

There's Rude Dudes In London, Amen.

"I'll take Tobacco," I said, pulling the wool muff over my ears. The wind had picked up considerably since we had left the house, and as we stood on the side of the road perched atop our bikes, I suppressed a shiver.

We'd ridden two and a half miles when the chilly January temperatures had whipped through our thick hoodies and frozen our fingers to the bone. Sure it had been cold, but it felt like the temperatures were suddenly taking a nose-dive. In a last ditch effort of distraction, I called out to creativity, begging for something to make the cold seem less ... cold, yes.

And that's how it came to be that three minutes later, as cars passed by engulfing us in bursts of ridiculously cold air and gusts of wind, I proposed we each take something to count along the way. The ditches were littered with every little thing imaginable; it looked like the ABC store had dumped half it's contents along our road in big bottles, little bottles, odd bottles and more. Not to mention tobacco cans | coffee cans | Gum wrappers | Vitamin Water & Cigarettes.

I let the girls pick first, Mckenna counted Alcohol bottles because it was obvious she would come out on top of this game when our little 12 mile ride was over. Next came the Cigarette cartons, Laura didn't think she'd have any trouble wracking up a handful of points with these. Laney chose Water Bottles, Vitamin Water and any other kind of water we happened to pass. And me, well that's where I volunteered to take Tobacco.

The girls were running on maybe two solid hours of sleep, while I had fallen asleep on the couch in fifteen minutes flat. So they laughed a great deal over almost anything that came out of my mouth. It had all started last night when Laura walked into our house a few minutes after six ...

"This is gonna be a good night, let me tell you." Sammy grinned, bouncing from one foot to the next. He wore blue flannel pants, a tee shirt and went barefoot. His nine year old hair tusseled from spending the afternoon out in the backyard playing spies with Josh, and running in and out of the house since breakfast.

We ate supper { our usual Friday Night Pizza with a little pizzaz of Mushrooms, Chicken, Onions, Etc } in record time, then hung around the table laughing and talking, not really worried about getting anywhere anytime soon.

Next ... Northanger Abbey. Hot Vanilla Chai. Pajamas in an assortment of styles and colors. Lots of getting comfy, and giggles, and shoving around getting settled. When everyone had found somewhere comfy to sit | lay | etc, we cut the lights and watched as the story unfolded before our eyes.

Two gentlemen eyed a pair of ladies as they passed by, not bothering to hide the fact that they were indeed interested. "Why?" one of the girls sat staighter on the couch in disgust. "Why do they have to do that?! That's so rude."

"Because they didn't care," I offered, my fingers deftly weaving in and out of the yarn I held in my hands. Joshy was forever asking me if his four-gray scarf was going to be done soon. With every intention of finishing it FINALLY, I had brought it into the family room with me.

"But," Lana was aghast."You don't do that. It's like ... old London. They're supposed to be gentlemen, right?"

"There's rude dudes in London, Lana!" This came from Laura suddenly, accompanied by a handful of laughter and mimics of the comment. True enough, there's rude dudes everywhere but you hardly expect to see them in something so ... classic.

Regardless of the rude dudes, etc the movie was great. As were the moments leading up to the one where I fell asleep watching Ratatouille, and woke up to half a dozen pieces of Spy gear littering the family room floor.

I still can't believe this sister of mine is Fifteen, it seems far too early for her to have another birthday. But I love her, old or young. She's still my funny, adorable Lana no matter how many birthdays she has. * smiles *

Getting Around To Doing ...

It's Thursday. Not only is it Thursday, but it's January 12th. As I sit here, I wonder how on earth time has flown by without my even realizing it ...

 It seems like two months ago I was sliding into a booth across from my soon-to-be boss getting interviewed for a job at Chick-fil-A. Looking in the mirror at that uniform, and thinking Oh my lanta, no.

I was staring another semester of college in the face from miles away and loving | hating that I wasn't going back. Signing three years of my life away on a little White Honda that could take me almost anywhere I wanted to go.

Laying on the living room floor letting our puppy-love crawl all over me. Not realizing how fast she would grow up and be the rambunctious little thing she is now, jumping up on my bed and waking me up every morning even before the sun shines through my window.
Snapping pictures of a hundred different little memories I want to keep close to my heart forever. Tying Kinky Blue Polka-Dotted ribbons in my hair, riding in the back of a pickup truck with lots of people I loved. Running down Mainstreet chucking handfuls of Popcicles into the cheering | reaching | screaming | sweaty crowd of 4th of July Parade-goers.

Sitting on a bench overlooking shoppers at the Short-Pump mall, sharing some of the most amazing Ice Cream in the world and an afternoon of laughter with my boyfriend & the girls. Watching him wrestle on the family room floor with the boys and hearing their shouts and laughter mingle together into one big happy sound.

Lying on a blanket under the Summer stars, oohing and ahhing as a thousand colorful sparks split the night sky above me and filled our big Southern hearts with wonder and happiness. Licking the remains of Chocolate from the mixing spoon as I baked brownies with my little men.

Jumping off the porch into the pouring rain, just to let the coolness sink into my skin and drench my clothes. Somehow managing to make a semi-organic supper, while two little girls clung to my skirt and squealed in delight every time I tried to shake free.

Pushing tiny people in a backyard swing until they were breathless | giggly and exhausted. Snuggling on the couch with three and reading books until the toddler pushed the pages out of my hands and begged for a snack. Smiling | praying for peace of mind & sanity when the baby let out a howl from her swing while I was in the midst of getting everyone into Pjs for the night. I loved. * smiles *

Donning Camo before the crack of dawn, pulling on my thick wool socks and slinging a gun over my shoulder. Squinting into the early morning light as I tromped through the woods behind my daddy, his little green light shining into the darkest forest and guiding us to our tree stand.

Staring at my Mother in disbelief as she brings some crazy little memory to life. Can this woman be my mother, this insanely wonderful & funny woman jumping around my living room being silly and making us laugh? Yes. And this I know, I get a good dose of humor from her; a love for living.
Running down the road at a ridiculous, heart racing pace with my sisters. Wondering if my heart will burst into tiny bits, my exhausted body littering the road by my house. Whose idea was this exercising thing anyways? Mine? Ours? Oh yes, my bad. How silly of me to forget. Yes, I loved that too!
Untangling bits of yarn as Abby learned to knit. All the laughs and tangled messes we managed to get ourselves into. And yet, she makes me so proud.

Thinking I could possibly die of frostbite with a handful of other people as I climbed Crabtree Falls with our youth group in the dead of winter. Pulling Peter's Dallas Cowboys Knit Hat over my head with fierce determination and hating myself for loving the fresh air | the view | the sunshine | the bonding.
Oh my goodness, there was just so much more packed into my year. I loved it immensely | intensely | insanely much. And now I'm into January 2012 and I can't really wrap my mind around the fact another year has come and gone.

But am I ready for it? Have I prepared myself for what might lie ahead?

The answer is simple. Yes!

I am SO excited about this year and everything that I will see and do and be. It will be amazing and I'll get to make so many more memories to add to all the wonderful ones I've already had. And really, I can't wait to share it with you!

I hope that as you look back on last year, and look ahead to this new one you will be encouraged | delighted | and overjoyed at all the possibilites that await YOU! * hearts *

Taking a Tumble ~ One Week and A Day.

The moonlight spread it's hazened glow across the parking lot, a steady stream of cars surrounding the little white station. Pulling two navy blue suitcases from the car, the girls smiled with less enthusiasm than the seven days leading up to this night.

"Here we go," the shorter of the two said, reaching for the larger suitcase and surveying the chaos around them. Spinning from the car in lightning speed, Sperry Girl's voice raised just a notch. "No! I've got this one. You get the other one ... shortie."

"Short people must do big things too. It's a fact." The response came with an even bigger smile, and errupted in laughter. It had been eight whole days since they had been in this very same spot, dropping bags and running into hugs, squealing like there would be no tomorrow. Those eight days had been chocked full of late nights and laughter.

"I can't believe it's been a week, can you?"
 
The time had flown by, each new day leading into another and yet another ...

Hanging out at Cuppa Joe's ...

They had first decided on a trip to Cuppa Joe's. And after staring at the pretty Chalboard Menu for half an eternity, flip-flopping between the pink and yellow cursive of Chocolately goodness and fruit smoothies, they promptly ordered two Italian Nut Job Latte's. Mmmm ...

Even as the blenders ground out deliciousness and espresso filled the air, they wandered around the tiny coffee shop.


The girls had fingered the handmade pottery in various shapes and colors, and hummed to snazzy Jazz tunes until their order was called.

 

 And did they swoon over the mugs, the odds and ends pieces that screamed character and charm? Probably.


From there it was girlish chatter, people watching from a cozey suede couch and a trip to the library for a week's worth of movies


They had ridden bikes down the old country roads and had staring contests with the cows, until their fingers went numb and their stomach's growled ...

And played endless amounts of Twister in a single night. The more the merrier, and all fall down were the main theme that night.

It was a strange mixture of weird positions, spinning of the color wheel and falling over after desperately declaring "Ok. Okay! I CANT ... do thIS anyMORE!"


To which those still stretched out on the colorful dots would smile, and beg for a new position before they too would fall over in the same painful twist of fate.

* Go figure, yes *


They had gone to the Mall, snapped a handful of pictures as the younger girlss had gotten their ears pierced. And had gone for a sunshine morning walk on the Thomas Jefferson Parkway.

And now their shoes made scratch-swishing noises ... as they crossed the expanse of black white marble tiles from the french doors to the high glossy counter.

The man behind the high counter peered at them with dark beady eyes and an unmistakeable smirk. Neither of them could think of a reason for this strange expression so they ignored it and checked the two navy blue bags in.

"You'll need to tag your bags, ladies." The man pointed out as if the two brunettes for blonde and stupid. The taller of the two reached for the small cardboard tags he had pushed across the counter and began writing her information on the card. Eyeing the bags at her feet, the Country Girl took in the smaller tags dangling from the leather straps by tangled strings.

"Those look like tags to me." She said with a smile, waiting for her tall-ish friend to realize she had come prepared without realizing it. And when the tall-ish Sperry Girl turned, her eyes widened with surprise and she scrunched her face into an indescribable expression that only the Country Girl could understand.

"You've been drinkin', haven't you." Sperry Girl eyed the man behind the counter as if he'd lost his mind, and said nothing. She didn't have a second to fill the Country Girl in before he looked at her and "She's been drinking, hmm?"

Counry Girl unaware of the blip of conversation she had missed while checking her email via her cellphone, looked up with a smile. "Hmm? Just a little." Just because she knew her friend would gasp in horror and it was highly unlikely the man would believe her.

And an hour later as the girls flipped through Glamour Magazines and people watched, the room was quiet save the occasional chuckle from someone watching Wiped Out on the overhead screen. The hands of the clock inched toward nine, the girls entirely oblivious to the world around them.

Neither of them wanted to plan their goodbye within the hour, neither wanted to think of the weeks and months without the elbowing and laughter they had shared for a solid week. But finally, as the conductor rounded the corner and broke the comfortable silence, they rose to their feet.

"Thanks for letting me visit, it was so much fun!" Sperry Girl reached over to hug her friend, moments from her week in Virginia flittered across her eyes for a moment and stopped at the thought of her baby-man waiting for her back home.

She'd missed her family, and in just a few short hours she would see them all, embrace them and shower them with kisses. Excitement filled her senses.

"Ahmm. It was!" Country Girl smiled as she looped her bag over her shoulder. "Have a safe trip, Ma'am. Text me so I know you haven't died."

At this, both girls smiled. Grabbing her bag, Sperry Girl headed for the set of french doors where a small crowd of passengers had already gathered. She waved to her friend heading out the opposite doors that led to the parking lot and into the darkened night.

The End ...

Not Your Typical Tasteful Tuesday

I’m sitting at the bar, little blue coffee cup parked adjacent to my computer ... It's nearly one o'clock in the morning.

I’ve attempted Almond Biscotti for the first time EVER and feel I shall not come out of this episode unscathed. I’m watching it expand (and seemingly explode in my humble semi-nervous opinion) and wondering if maybe I really should have split it into two like the recipe suggested.

Nevertheless, what’s done is done and it might possibly take second place up there next to the biscuits I once made for my boyfriend. This is the earliest Tasteful Tuesday post in the history of Tasteful Tuesdays and for once, instead of posting a new recipe that I have either found or at least attempted in my lifetime, I decided to share with you the joys and woes of my life in The Kitchen.

First off, I am not Italian. After lots of practice, I can make a Country Biscuit that might make you sigh with delight. But that’s just country food, nothing fancy … Biscotti is well, it’s ways and methods are quite foreign to me. So here I sit, by the stove watching the timer wind down to who knows what.

　
I can imagine my Mother waking up -- after hearing me bang around the kitchen for a while; my attempts at baking/mixing in silence quite futile. Staggering sleepily into the kitchen, rubbing the side of her head like she sometimes does and asking, "What in the world are you doing? It's such and such a time."

The timer has finally wound down, my mother has yet to come staggering in, and the dishes have even been washed. We shall slice them up and pop them back into the oven for another ten minutes or so, enough time to tell you of my biscuits ...

If I had known almost four years ago that I would someday attempt biscotti and be reminded of my failed attempts at biscuits, the very day I lost faith in my abilities, I might possibly have taken a picture or two of these incredibly lumpy little biscuit mounds that rather reminded me of broken hearts.

It was a beatiful Sunday Morning in the middle of June, the house had just begun to stir with Sunday commotion as I tied an apron around my middle and set to work. Momma was busy whipping up a big skillet full of Western style Eggs and a pan of Gravy. Up until this point, everyone who ate them LOVED my biscuits. I had taken a recipe and just made it my own so really, it was fool proof ... or, so I thought.

My boyfriend's dad is an amazing cook, really he is. And instead of freaking out that he would hate them, I only worried he might critique them a little. So I thought maybe it would earn points to make them fluffier | higher | etc. THIS, well ...  this is where I failed on such an epic level I couldn't bring myself to make biscuits for months afterwards.

I only rolled them out about half an inch or so higher than normal, I thought they would be wonderful and the boyfriend's dad would never worry about his son going hungry. * yada, yada. I digress ... *

As I opened the oven door, my two pans of beautiful heart shaped biscuits looked more like golden lumps of broken hearts. They were lopsided and so very funny looking and well, it was Sunday morning and there simply wasn't time to make more. I'm sure I lost count of the times I apologized. But everyone was sweet and ate them anyways, after we got home from church my boyfriend even asked if he could have one before lunch.

"Are you even serious??" I could only stare at him for a handful of seconds. When he nodded, and asked me to go find him a biscuit, I could only shake my head. "You're ridiculous. But I love it."

Did he earn points in the girl's book for braving my flopped biscuits two times in a single day? You bet he did. * winks *


And in the short time I relived the horrible biscuit day { yay for reminiscing * happy sigh * } ... my Biscotti has turned out with a few happy nods from Lana as she ate some, and a sigh of relief from yours truly.

Ok, Okay, so next time I might start just a leeeetle earlier in the day. Say the afternoon maybe? Anyways, there's your tasteful Tuesday with a little bit of a twist AND remembering old times all at once. * smiles *

Hope you all have an absolutely amazing day! Enjoy every little thing that makes your day a Happy One.

Christmas Day ...

It's been a whirl of Christmas activities and New Year's Resolutions for the past week and a half, so thus I grabbed an ever so small handful of pictures from our family Christmas for you.

The munchkins jumped on my bed sometime just before seven o'clock. I groaned at the thought of the precious sleep I was about to lose, but when I thought of all the tiny people excitement I jumped out of my bed and up the stairs Joshy and I went.  

As always, Daddy read the Christmas story while we sipped coffee. The tinies snuggled up against us, and I could feel their nerves shaking with excitement. After that, wrapping paper went flying and the living room was trashed and thanks were expressed and hugs and kisses were given in abundance, yes ...

All of us old people got bikes for Christmas, and of course we had to try them out as soon as everything was over ... Funny, I had almost forgotten how and that just made me feel a little old. * wink *

And here's my handsome Daddy-O after he came back from his own little bike ride. So I can just see us in the coming weeks trecking down the back country roads on our little bikes and having a wonderful time.

Well, I shall be sure to post of our New Year fun and all the highlites from last year. I really can't believe its been a whole year already, but like they've always said Time Truly Flies When You're Having Fun!

Happy New Year Everybody! May your New Year be just as good as your last and even better. * smiles *