Her Junior Prom

Well, hello again, blogging world.  Mr daughter's Junior/Senior prom was this past Saturday evening.  This was her first to attend and she had a ball, and one of the best parts for me was that I was able to witness most of it - thanks to the hubby's job as AP at her school!  Of course, Ren was less than thrilled when she first learned we would be there but, in the end, she really didn't mind it so much.

She invited Jay, one of her good friends on the football team, to be her guest.  Now, I know I am biased - a lot -but I thought they made a handsome pair.

I also think we may have found Ren's signature color...coral.  I really like how the color just meshed so well with her skin tone and hair.  In case you're wondering, the dress is by Sherri Hill.  I didn't think I would ever like one on her as much as I did her last formal, the white La Femme, but I do think this is my new favorite.

Well, I'm off to bed.  I think I may enjoy falling asleep listening to this nice spring storm - so long as it doesn't get too stormy.



P.S.  You know I can't pass up an opportunity to include a John-Heath moment...On Saturday, he was asked if he thought his sister was pretty.  He said he did but he also let it be known he preferred one of her friends.  According to him, she was one smoking hot lady.  Smoking hot.  Not sure where he heard that.  Andy Griffith, Spongebob, or iCarly? 

Rock, Paper, Bomb?

Unbeknownst to me the time-honored game of Rock, Paper, Scissors has been altered.  John-Heath informed me of the change when I challenged him to a match while waiting in the car for his dad one night last week.  John always runs into someone he knows so we always get to play our fair share of this and other time-filling favorites, like “Thumb-wrestling” and “I Spy with My Little Eye”.

It seems there are now some other choices when choosing a force of destruction…bomb, knife, and gun - which, in a way, make much more sense than paper.  Honestly, I never understood that one.  Paper?  Who picks that?

Tyla

According to My Son…

…who told me so while looking out a window this past week…

…his favorite days are when

the birds are singing, the sun is out, the clouds are high in the sky and the grass is green.

Those days are the best.

Happy Monday, friends!  

Tyla

Image via

Birthday Eyes

Continuing with a little tradition I started during the first year of blogging...my eyes...at 42. And do you know what stands out to me the most, other than the fact that my camera lens has been much more kind than the magnifying mirror I use every morning? My nose. It's crooked! You would have thought at some during the last four decades I would have noticed that. Oh well, at least it's still sucking air. ;)

Can He Get Any Sweeter?

John-Heath giving his Pa Gene a big hug one night last summer.

My son is one of the rowdiest, most inquisitive, talkative, full of energy, always into to something boys you will ever meet. As the saying goes he is ALL boy. He is also one of the sweetest little rascals you will meet.

This morning as we were getting ready for school he asked if I could take him. You see, since his sister has had her own car she has been a great time-saver for me, as she can drop him off on her way to school (which is like a whopping 100 yards or so from my own school).

Well, he asked so sweetly I just had to try and get ready a little faster so that I could. On the way to school I asked why it was he wanted me to take him today instead of Ren and he said, "Well, we haven't got to see each other a lot lately and I wanted to spend some time with you."

I ask you, is that not sweet? I would have never thought that the five minute drive he and I shared each morning meant so much to him and was something he missed when I was no longer taking him to school.

Yep, my heart melted right there. It just slid down through my clothes and spilled out all over the floorboard of the car.

April 15, 1912

Lent for a While

Though it often happens, one of the most unnatural things in life is when a parent must bury their child.

Tuesday night, as I joined John in his study for a few minutes before bedtime, he recounted a news article which told of the horrific, accidental death of a little six-year-old boy in Connecticut earlier that same day. I felt an immediate and intense sorrow and had a difficult time falling asleep that night.

The next morning, as I watched my own sweet boy - also six and in the first grade - take his shower and get ready for school, I was still thinking of the little boy from the night before and the nightmare in which his family now finds themselves, and I was reminded of a poem my sister received in a card several years ago when her teenage son was killed in an automobile accident. It is a feeling I hope I never have to know first hand.

Lent for a While

"I'll lend you for a little time a child of Mine," He said,
"for you to love the while he lives and mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three,
but will you till I call him back take care of him for Me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you, and should his stay be brief, you'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay since all from earth return,
but there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn.

I've looked the wide-world over in my search for teachers true, and from the throngs that crowd life's lanes I have selected you.

Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain, nor hate me when I come to call to take him back again?"

I fancied that I heard them say, "Dear Lord, Thy will be done. For all the joy Thy child shall bring, the risk of grief we'll run. We'll shelter him with tenderness, we'll love him while we may, and for the happiness we have known, forever grateful stay.

And should the angels call for him much sooner than we've planned, we'll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand."

- Author Unknown -

In memory of Jeffrey B. and all those who have left this world too soon.

Easter Recap 2012…Part 2…The Extended Family Arrives

 In addition to celebrating this most wonderful holiday with my immediate family, I have also long been able to share it with extended family on my dad’s side. 

My dad’s family – minus a few.

We would usually gather at my Aunt Fair’s house.  “Fair” is short for Fairdenia.  Isn’t that just a wonderful Southern name?  It always reminded me of a flower and was the perfect name for my aunt who had such a gentle nature.  Once Aunt Fair was no longer able to host the lunch, and in the years since her death, it has moved around from place to place. 

I think John and I have had it for three of the last four years.  I would say four out of the last four years but two years ago we had to cancel when several of us became sick and/or hurt at the last minute, including yours truly who came within a minute of puking on the piano bench at church and spent the rest of the day in bed. 

Daddy – now the eldest of the bunch.

Now, my dad’s side of the family enjoys its fun and games so we always have a good time.  There is the traditional egg hunt - which has the potential to win you lots of prizes and/or some $$$, followed by an egg toss for those daring enough to participate.  Plus, we’ve been known to have some good relays now and then and the occasional pageant.  You can’t appreciate true beauty until you’ve seen a loved one dressed as a rabbit – or in drag.

Speaking of drag, I remember the first time I hosted our get-together.  Each year, everyone tries to bring a bunch of loot to be offered as prizes for the egg hunt.  Typically, this will include mostly items the youngest kids will enjoy – kites, bubbles, sidewalk chalk, and the such – but there are other prizes, too, including small bottles of lotion, stationery, cards, etc. 

Getting ready to eat and Megan’s festive cookies (she asked that I include them in my blog.  Well, Megan, here you go.)

As I was saying, the first year the celebration was at my house I happened to have a large stack of new CDs (still in cellophane wrappers) that I had won at some event, so I decided to go through them and pick out the ones I thought the kids might enjoy to use as prizes.  There was only one that fit the bill…a soundtrack to some kiddie movie.

Well, smack dab in the middle of the prize giveaway I heard an adult voice exclaim Whaaaat!!! Who brought THAT as a prize?  One of our wee lads had just won himself the copy of my donated soundtrack…The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Turns out, it wasn’t a kiddie movie after all.  I was horrified (pardon the pun).

Clockwise from top left:  Tossing eggs, lined up for the egg toss, numbering prizes, kids hunting eggs, cousin Tammy dividing $$$ for the prize eggs.

I learned a valuable lesson that Easter…before donating movie soundtracks to be used as prizes for children, ALWAYS find out the plot first. ;)

Easter Recap 2012…Part 1

Happy Tuesday! I hope you all had a most blessed, wonderful Easter. We did. Not only did I get to spend the day with family, but our school system was also out for Good Friday and yesterday, which made the weekend even better.

Ren and John-Heath posing for traditional Easter pics…

Easter mornings are always somewhat rushed around our house. Oh, who am I kidding…every morning feels rushed in our house, so I guess I should have said more rushed. Of course, there was the little matter of taking pictures of the kids with their Easter baskets and dressed in their new Easter duds. Plus, John and I were busy taking care of some last minute items for the big get-together we hosted for my dad’s side of my family. To be honest, by the time we were ready to take a few pictures I was pretty stressed. I think I said something to the kids like, “Now hurry up and get out here so I can take your picture. It’s tradition! Now smile!”

Another tradition in our family consists of the Easter bunny refilling the kids’ baskets each year. Ren has the same basket she has always had and John-Heath has the same one he’s had since he was two. I think even long after my kids move from our house the EB will surely make a stop to fill them. Of course, as John-Heath observed, he is slipping a bit as “he” gave him something he already had. That bunny’s memory just isn’t what it use to be.

…with their baskets

While going to church on any Sunday is commonplace for us, Easter Sundays always seem more special…from the hymns of atonement such as “The Old Rugged Cross” to my dad often bringing the message to wearing an outfit bought new for the day. I will forever be grateful for all the Easter services I have been able to share with my family.

…and on the altar at church. 

Tyla

P.S.  Sorry about the blurry pics.  Not sure what's going on there.

 

Happy Easter!

Easter blessings to you all. I hope your day was filled with joy and peace and was spent with those you hold most dear.

image via

Soapbox #11

Well said.

Well said.

Things I Hate…

At different times throughout the year I remember just how much I hate certain things. In the spring, I am reminded that I simply loathe the following…

and

which seem to be in full attack mode in Middle Tennessee right now.

Houston, We Have a Car!

The search for my daughter a car is finally, and by finally I mean thank the good Lord I don't have to go through that again for ten more years, over! Seriously, it's a good thing John-Heath is ten years her junior because I think it will take that amount of time for me to get in the mood to car shop for a teenager again.

After one unsuccessful estate sale and pouring over Craigslists and online used car inventories for every car dealership in a hundred mile radius for the past several weeks we were finally able to check that little project off our to-do list this past Saturday.

Ren with her new car - which she named "Jeanie".

Ren is now the proud owner (well, primary driver) of a VW Jetta - used, of course. Considering on her first trip to the local Sonic she exited in the opposite direction as everyone else we figured it was best she get one already a little "broken in".

Sock Ninjas

I have to share with you a little conversation I had with my son this past Friday morning. It happened as he and I were getting ready to leave for school just before we walked out the door. I was standing at the end of the counter loading the bag I take with me each day when I noticed John-Heath bend down to adjust his (crew) socks, which were then kind of just pushed down and not folded into a neat cuff as they had been when he first dressed.

John-Heath: Now, mom, don’t be mad but Chase likes ‘em.

Me: (thinking this is an odd statement) Likes what? Your socks?

John-Heath: No, my ninjas.

At this point he shows me four tiny toy ninjas he has hidden – two in each sock.

Me: John-Heath, you can’t take those to school. Ms. Timberly will not want you to have those in class.

John-Heath: Oh, I don’t get them out in class. Me and Chase (remember, he’s six so his grammar is still developing) like to play with them outside at recess.

Me: Well, then why are you putting them in your socks?

John-Heath: Because I don’t want my teacher to see them or my art teacher or music teacher or the cafeteria teachers…

Me: Okay, but if Ms. Timberly sees them while you’re outside playing and tells you to put them up you need to mind her. It will make Ms. Timberly very sad if you don’t.

John-Heath: Oh, she won’t. We play behind where the teachers sit and if they come over there I just hide them in my socks again.

Then as I dropped him off at school and gave him a kiss goodbye he reminded…

Now, mom, if you call up here today please don’t tell them about the ninjas in my socks.

A Lesson in Spelling

Obviously, (based on all the errors I find in my writing) I am not perfect when it comes to the task of spelling, but this is one I've known since being, as we Southerners say, knee-high to a grasshopper. Proofreaders and copy editors take heed...

M

I

crooked letter

crooked letter

I

crooked letter

crooked letter

I

humpback

humpback

I

Epson Salt for Facial Twitches and Tics

Hello, friends. Well, I am finally back to work after a nice spring break followed by a not-so-nice stomach bug that knocked both my kids for a little loop. Ren was sick Sunday. To be honest, I thought she was just trying to weasel out of going to church and I made her go anyway but about halfway through the service I realized she probably did feel bad and sent her on home. John-Heath's school was another rather unfortunate victim to our family's uninvited house guest in that he became sick once at school on Monday. Let's just say they had to bring out the ol' Rug Doctor for the office carpets.

Tonight, was bath time in the big tub for John-Heath. He usually showers in the mornings (taking a much longer shower than any other member of the family) and would take a tub bath every night if we'd let him, but I don't know that our town's water reserves could withstand it. Every so often, though, we'll allow him a tub bath just so he'll be able to soak in water loaded with Epson Salt.

A couple years ago while playing around on the bed one Saturday afternoon, he hit the back of his head so hard on the bed's headboard that he suffered what a pediatric neurologist diagnosed as Post Concussion Syndrome. Within hours after striking his head he began having facial twitches, which really looked almost seizurish and grew worse over the next several days and was joined by a loss of hand-eye coordination. Needless to say, we were very frightened and felt quite helpless.

Now, a few of the doctors were never really sure some of his symptoms were due to the hit to the head and thought it was just coincidental the facial twitches showed up at the same time as that of the accident. One said it was even possible he had just developed a tic (which is fairly common in boys that age, as I was told). You can go here and here to read my original posts on the incident.

During the many nights of Googling the topics of head trauma, tics, twitches, etc., I found several message boards with people who mentioned bathing in Epson Salt as a way to minimize facial and/or body twitches. So, we tried it and it did seem to help.

Those first couple weeks we put him in an Epsom bath at least every other day and then we gradually lowered it to once every month or so and then finally just "as needed".

By the end of a couple months John-Heath's severe twitches (in which he would squinch his eyes so tight it would draw up his cheeks and mouth) had been reduced to some heavy, repeated blinking. Occasionally, though, he would have flare-ups and we would bring out the Epson salt and again it would seem to help.

Well, we've noticed over the past couple weeks that some of the heavier blinking has returned so tonight it was time to throw a few scoops into the tub, which was more than okay with my little guy who will play in water any chance he can get.

P.S. Well, John just informed me that it is almost eleven and I am required to be at work in the morning ;) so I guess I need to turn in. Please overlook any typos, etc. This is strictly a type and publish post kind of night. Goodnight, friends.

I'm Still Here

Hello, friends. We are in the middle of spring break here in my little town/county, and this is the first time (I think) that I have even logged on to Blogger since my last post.

My daughted put as her Facebook status a day or two ago that spring break is a tease. I tend to agree. These days off have made me so ready for summer.

Aside from longing for summer to arrive, we have managed to get a few things done. I'll share those with you in a bit, but for now I'm going to turn in for the night and rest up for another busy day around the house. I'll see you in a few...

Carnton Mansion: A Lesson Learned the Hard Way

It should go without saying that light and art do not mix. I know this. If I were to ever take another art test and the question were posed about exposing artwork to natural sunlight I would always mark that it is wrong. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Yet, a little less than five years ago when John and I moved into our home we went right ahead and slapped our favorite print on a wall which receives ooodles of natural light. And somehow, over these last fifty-four months, the consequences of doing such failed to catch my attention - until just the other night.

In 1989, John, my husband the history buff, participated as an extra in the filming of a historical documentary in Franklin, Tennessee. The subject was the Battle of Franklin and his scenes were filmed at the beautiful Carnton Plantation. He played a wounded soldier. Alas, new to the whole acting thing he made the mistake of looking at the camera and his scene found itself on the cutting room floor.

When he returned home, however, he was almost as excited about a limited edition John Black print - Carnton Mansion - he had seen for sale as he was about being in a "movie." But, he said it was way too pricey to even consider purchasing. We were newlyweds. I was in college. He was the only one working (a real job). It cost $100. But I knew I had to get it for him. It would be a Christmas gift.

I had it shipped to my mom's house and later took it to a local frame shop. I picked out the frame and a trio of mats and was told it would cost around 75 bucks. So, I saved the little money I received from a college work-study program and when the time came to pick it up, it took every bit of the seventy-seven dollars I had in my wallet. But I was thrilled. I went directly home, told John to come to the car, and gave it to him on the spot. It was only November but I couldn't wait one minute longer.

Carnton Mansion was the first "grown-up" gift I ever bought my husband and because of that it has always held a dear spot in our hearts and been featured in prominent spots in our homes.

My purchase was also a good investment, as the print is today worth about twelve times what it originally cost. Well, it would be worth that had someone (myself) put a little more thought into its current placement.

Isn't it lovely? This is how Carnton should look.

And this is what we're left with today. Four years of sunlight through the three very large, high windows in our living room has reduced it to this.

Needless to say and too late to matter much I guess, but the print will be coming down within a day or two and placed somewhere else in the house. I know it may sound super trivial but it feels almost as if we've lost a piece of our history and I feel quite sick over it.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Oreo (plus a recipe)

By all accounts (and by "all accounts" I mean Yahoo, which, sadly, is where I get much of my news) today is the 100th birthday of the Oreo cookie. As someone who very much enjoys this little cookie- especially with a cold glass of milk - I thought I would pay homage by sharing with you a recipe.

The following was passed along by a friend who made a batch for me as a Christmas gift a couple years ago. Definitely NOT something you would want to eat everyday but OHHHH so good.

OREO BALLS

1 package Oreo cookies

1 package cream cheese

1 package white almond bark

1 tablespoon Crisco shortening

Crush oreo cookies (you can use a mini chopper)

Blend oreos with softened cream cheese until well mixed

Roll into balls

Place in the refrigerator to cool and set approx. 15-20 minutes

Melt almond bark and shortening

Dip rolled balls into chocolate, place on waxed paper and let set.

So simple and sooooo good.

P.S. Did you vote today? I did - even though it took a little longer due to an address conflict. One little mile cost me my place in line.

Recipe via Jan G.

Image via Google

Six Degrees of Davy Jones

First Whitney Houston, now Davy Jones. I know they weren’t the same age or popular during the same era but I was a fan of both. I especially loved Davy and watching him and the rest of the Monkees in reruns. That’s RERUNS, folks. I’m just shy of being old enough to have been around for the originals. Many Saturday mornings were spent watching them and often the theme song would become stuck in my head for the rest of the day. Hey, hey we’re the Monkees and people think we monkey around…

So in memory of “the cute one”, I thought I would share a connection I have to him. You know what they say about six degrees of separation, right?

In the mid-eighties (1986, I think), my husband John attended a Monkees concert at the Starwood Amphitheater in Nashville. He went with his girlfriend at the time, which was not me. I shan’t reveal her name, which was actually quite an unfortunate one. Anyway, their seats were close to the stage and when they arrived their friends, who were already there, pointed to the stage and said, “Look!”

John looks and sees Mike Nesmith (it was publicized that Nesmith would not be joining his band mates on tour) and says something really hip like, “Cool. He came!” His friend shouts back (apparently John and his girlfriend had arrived late enough that the concert was already in session), “No! Look again.”

And that’s when John notices that it is actually NOT Nesmith on stage, but instead one of his own best friends who would later serve as a groomsman in our wedding. John, again very hippily I’m sure, says, “Oh my gosh! That’s Chris O----!” You see, his friend, Chris O., could have passed for Mike’s twin, so much so that he won some contest that allowed him to take the stage with the band for a while. Which I do think is kind of cool.

And there you have it. I was practically friends with the Monkees.

RIP, Davy.


P.S. Wanna hear something else that ranks in the really cool category...Even though the 1986 tour for the Monkees was a huge financial success for Davy, Peter, and Micky you shouldn't feel sorry for Mike. It seems that Mr. Nesmith had recently inherited about a gazillion dollars from his mother's estate. His mom was a typist. Oh, and she INVENTED LIQUID PAPER!!! IN HER KITCHEN!!! IN HER BLENDER!!! Told you it was cool.