I realize I just posted, like, five minutes ago. But I have to tell ya'll about one of life's small joys here in the South. In particular, a small joy that I and my family are about to experience.
Those of you up North (and some of you down South) may not know this joy. If that statement pertains to you, you are ALL invited to go with me the next time you are in these here parts.
Ya'll, tonight, we're goin' to the Fish House.
For you Northerners, no, it is not (usually) an actual house. And no, fish do not live there.
The Fish House in any restaurant (metal shack, hole in the wall, log cabin, etc.) where families go to eat food. But not just ANY food. Oh, no. We're talkin'...
Fried Catfish.
French Fries.
Fried Hush Puppies.
Fried Shrimp.
Fried Ham.
Fried Chicken.
(Getting the picture here?)
And it's all topped of with warm homemade biscuits, peach cobbler with ice cream, and ice-cold SWEET tea (picture pancake syrup with a straw).
For reasons I'm sure you can imagine, this is NOT a regular treat for our family and we tend to eat nothing but salad for the week after the engorgement... err, um... feast.
Still, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. (Wish I had a spit tube now!)
Ya'll come back now, ya hear?
Saturday, August 9, 2008
The Boys are Back in Town... The Boys are Back in Town...
I mentioned earlier that "the students" have begun their arrival.
(And by "the students," I meant the University of Georgia college crowd.)
Having grown up in a college town, I have come to appreciate the summers 'round these parts. As much as I love the changes in seasons - particularly the cool-weather seasons - I somehow LOATHE the month of August, because when students get to town...
1. The wait at the local restaurant goes from 20 minutes to 2 hours.
2. I have to leave my house a good 20 minutes earlier to get anywhere because there are 50 ka-jillion more cars on the road.
3. Instead of enjoying a Friday night stroll downtown with my hubby, I avoid it like the plague because, ya'll, it stinks like B.O. and beer! (And, seriously, I don't want my husband around the short skirts and halter tops who are waiting for a seat in the bars.)
4. Going grocery shopping at midnight (the time I love because I'm the ONLY one in the store) is suddenly just as difficult as at 5:15pm. And finally...
5. The line at Starbucks. 'nough said.
However, with this arrival of the masses, there come a few, more positive, changes...
1. There's ALWAYS something to do. UGA provides lots of art festivals, concerts, plays, inter mural sports... all of which are completely halted during the summer.
2. Classes start back. And as much as I complain about the homework, reading, papers, etc. I do LOVE being a part of that campus.
3. Friends. While the Massive Student Exodus at the end of May allows us Native Athenians to breathe a collective sigh of relief, it also means saying goodbye to any college buds who go home for the summer. Welcome back, ya'll, welcome back!
4. Stimulating conversation becomes an every-day activity. And while I love the whole "This color is BWUE" conversation that I have with my almost-2-year-old all summer, I have come to appreciate the coffee shop discussions on the Middle East, the environment, the elections, and (of course) the best kind of coffee.
5. Game Day!!! (Goooo DAWG, sic'em! woo hooo hoo hooo.) This point should (and probably will) allow for an entire entry unto itself. Because, even though Game Day traffic is H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks, there is an electricity in the air as I drive down the road and see EV.ER.Y.ONE in the city wearing their Red 'n' Black. The entire town smells of hamburgers and Bar-B-Q (traditional tailgating foods), and the voice of Larry Munson (the native Bulldogs sportscaster) carries on the breeze.
And so, as the summer comes to an end (even if the heat continues) and the students start getting settled into their respective dorms and apartments, I find this change a little bittersweet.
I'm sure some of you moms out there feel the same way... though it may be for very different reasons.
What is your favorite/least favorite thing about the fall (and about the beginning of school)?
(And by "the students," I meant the University of Georgia college crowd.)
Having grown up in a college town, I have come to appreciate the summers 'round these parts. As much as I love the changes in seasons - particularly the cool-weather seasons - I somehow LOATHE the month of August, because when students get to town...
1. The wait at the local restaurant goes from 20 minutes to 2 hours.
2. I have to leave my house a good 20 minutes earlier to get anywhere because there are 50 ka-jillion more cars on the road.
3. Instead of enjoying a Friday night stroll downtown with my hubby, I avoid it like the plague because, ya'll, it stinks like B.O. and beer! (And, seriously, I don't want my husband around the short skirts and halter tops who are waiting for a seat in the bars.)
4. Going grocery shopping at midnight (the time I love because I'm the ONLY one in the store) is suddenly just as difficult as at 5:15pm. And finally...
5. The line at Starbucks. 'nough said.
However, with this arrival of the masses, there come a few, more positive, changes...
1. There's ALWAYS something to do. UGA provides lots of art festivals, concerts, plays, inter mural sports... all of which are completely halted during the summer.
2. Classes start back. And as much as I complain about the homework, reading, papers, etc. I do LOVE being a part of that campus.
3. Friends. While the Massive Student Exodus at the end of May allows us Native Athenians to breathe a collective sigh of relief, it also means saying goodbye to any college buds who go home for the summer. Welcome back, ya'll, welcome back!
4. Stimulating conversation becomes an every-day activity. And while I love the whole "This color is BWUE" conversation that I have with my almost-2-year-old all summer, I have come to appreciate the coffee shop discussions on the Middle East, the environment, the elections, and (of course) the best kind of coffee.
5. Game Day!!! (Goooo DAWG, sic'em! woo hooo hoo hooo.) This point should (and probably will) allow for an entire entry unto itself. Because, even though Game Day traffic is H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks, there is an electricity in the air as I drive down the road and see EV.ER.Y.ONE in the city wearing their Red 'n' Black. The entire town smells of hamburgers and Bar-B-Q (traditional tailgating foods), and the voice of Larry Munson (the native Bulldogs sportscaster) carries on the breeze.
And so, as the summer comes to an end (even if the heat continues) and the students start getting settled into their respective dorms and apartments, I find this change a little bittersweet.
I'm sure some of you moms out there feel the same way... though it may be for very different reasons.
What is your favorite/least favorite thing about the fall (and about the beginning of school)?
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The students are back in town, ya'll....
Strange things are goin' on in these here parts.
I stopped by my local Jittery Joe's today to order me a 16oz coffee Java Joe, and here's how it went down...
Man (over intercom speaking in strange high-pitched southern female voice): "Welcome to JJ's, PLEEEEEASE allow me to serve you."
Me (wondering if I should laugh): Ok. I'll have a 16ozcoffeeJavaJoe.
Man (in high-pitched voice): What a FABULOUS decision. That's one of my FAVORITE drinks here at JJ's. Would you like whipped cream on that?
Me: Umm... sure.
Man: Oh! How exciting! That's as good as a sugar dumplin' with a cherry on top. Just one o' the SWEETEST treats we've got. I just don't understand these people who don't get whipped cream. I mean, tell me, what IS the point of a super sweet treat if you can't whip it, don't you agree, ma'aaaaaam?
Me (doing the body-shaking but totally silent laugh): Yes.
Man: Well, you just come on 'round here and I'll wait for you while I stuff my face with these SCRUMPtious rice crispy treats. Would you like for me to have one here waitin' for you when you get here?
Me: No, thank you. The drink is just fine.
Man: Suit yourself! That's just more for me and my voluptuous figure.
Me: Drive around to window at super-slow speed, trying to compose myself before I get there.
Man (in deep, manly sexy voice): That'll be $4.25.
Me: BWAAAAA HAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHA!!!!!!!!
Man: *blank stare*
Me (handing over the money) tee hee hee hee....
Man(continuing with blank stare): Here's your drink
Me (embarrassed grin upon realizing that this may not have been the person taking my order): thank you.
Man (in high-pitched southern female voice): Now you have a FABULOUS day!
Me (driving away): BWAAAA HAHAH HAHAHA HAHA!!
I stopped by my local Jittery Joe's today to order me a 16oz coffee Java Joe, and here's how it went down...
Man (over intercom speaking in strange high-pitched southern female voice): "Welcome to JJ's, PLEEEEEASE allow me to serve you."
Me (wondering if I should laugh): Ok. I'll have a 16ozcoffeeJavaJoe.
Man (in high-pitched voice): What a FABULOUS decision. That's one of my FAVORITE drinks here at JJ's. Would you like whipped cream on that?
Me: Umm... sure.
Man: Oh! How exciting! That's as good as a sugar dumplin' with a cherry on top. Just one o' the SWEETEST treats we've got. I just don't understand these people who don't get whipped cream. I mean, tell me, what IS the point of a super sweet treat if you can't whip it, don't you agree, ma'aaaaaam?
Me (doing the body-shaking but totally silent laugh): Yes.
Man: Well, you just come on 'round here and I'll wait for you while I stuff my face with these SCRUMPtious rice crispy treats. Would you like for me to have one here waitin' for you when you get here?
Me: No, thank you. The drink is just fine.
Man: Suit yourself! That's just more for me and my voluptuous figure.
Me: Drive around to window at super-slow speed, trying to compose myself before I get there.
Man (in deep, manly sexy voice): That'll be $4.25.
Me: BWAAAAA HAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHAHA!!!!!!!!
Man: *blank stare*
Me (handing over the money) tee hee hee hee....
Man(continuing with blank stare): Here's your drink
Me (embarrassed grin upon realizing that this may not have been the person taking my order): thank you.
Man (in high-pitched southern female voice): Now you have a FABULOUS day!
Me (driving away): BWAAAA HAHAH HAHAHA HAHA!!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
And now, back to our regularly scheduled program...
Hello friends, foes, and other folks. Behold, I have returned.
It has been an eventful month in which many changes have taken place and still more changes were prepared for. Announcements and entertainment shall soon pour forth onto this here page and tickle your senses.
But tonight, my dear bloggerpals, I'm spitting mad. Well, more spitting and less mad. Unless, that is, a person can actually be madly spitting. Yes, that's the perfect description.
Tonight, I am madly spitting. Into a teeny tiny little jar with a blue plastic lid.
No, I have not taken up "dipping," and no, there are no watermelon seeds involved.
I am in fact, taking a medical test.
Apparently, all that juicy saliva that floats around in our mouths holds boo-koos of hormones - testosterone, progesterone, cortisol, adrenaline... the list goes on.
Want to know the story?
Well, it AALLLL started around the time I got engaged (almost 5 years ago). With no change in diet or exercise, I gained 15 lbs. in 8 months.
To make a REALLY long story short... the weight gain hasn't stopped since then. And along with it has come even more problems. Fatigue. Nausea. Shaking spells. Arthritis-type symptoms. Female issues. And the list goes on....
After much poking and prodding from friends, family, and my general practitioner... I finally saw a specialist.
His theory goes back to the caveman days. You see, back in the day of the caveman when a traumatic event happened - a death in the "clan," a broken bone, a natural disaster - the body would begin to overproduce a hormone called Cortisol - the "stress hormone." This hormone causes the body to store up excess fat and water in preparation for starvation that may come as a result of this change.
Our bodies react in a similar way today when any traumatic event happens.
For me, the "trauma" occurred about a month before I got engaged. It was the near death of my step-dad, whom I love dearly and who helped raise me. His illness struck quickly and sent him into a full-blown coma in a matter of days. My mom (being a wonderful wife) stayed by his side 24/7, while I (at 18 years old) was responsible for making all other arrangements - including notifying family members and flying them in to "say their goodbyes."
Most bodies, once the traumatic event has subsided, will reset themselves.
Mine never did. So this stress hormone has been coursing through my body (and in my saliva, apparently) ever since. It triggers adrenaline (hence, the shakes) and causes my body to store more weight than necessary (effectively shutting down my metabolism). Basically, my body has been in high-stress mode for five years, regardless of how peaceful (or stressful) my surroundings are.
So, before we decide on a treatment option, he wants me to spit. Every three hours. For 24 hours. Into tiny little tubes that somehow morph into 1-Gallon Mason Jars that are impossible to fill.
Ok. Maybe they don't morph. But, sitting here at 11:30pm, after a long day of "pool and drool," this last tube looks like an Olympic size swimming pool... of drool. Heh.
So, test results and treatment decision will be discussed around the middle of this month.
I'll keep you posted.
In the meantime, I am off to dream of cave men spitting into swimming pools... fabulous.
It has been an eventful month in which many changes have taken place and still more changes were prepared for. Announcements and entertainment shall soon pour forth onto this here page and tickle your senses.
But tonight, my dear bloggerpals, I'm spitting mad. Well, more spitting and less mad. Unless, that is, a person can actually be madly spitting. Yes, that's the perfect description.
Tonight, I am madly spitting. Into a teeny tiny little jar with a blue plastic lid.
No, I have not taken up "dipping," and no, there are no watermelon seeds involved.
I am in fact, taking a medical test.
Apparently, all that juicy saliva that floats around in our mouths holds boo-koos of hormones - testosterone, progesterone, cortisol, adrenaline... the list goes on.
Want to know the story?
Well, it AALLLL started around the time I got engaged (almost 5 years ago). With no change in diet or exercise, I gained 15 lbs. in 8 months.
To make a REALLY long story short... the weight gain hasn't stopped since then. And along with it has come even more problems. Fatigue. Nausea. Shaking spells. Arthritis-type symptoms. Female issues. And the list goes on....
After much poking and prodding from friends, family, and my general practitioner... I finally saw a specialist.
His theory goes back to the caveman days. You see, back in the day of the caveman when a traumatic event happened - a death in the "clan," a broken bone, a natural disaster - the body would begin to overproduce a hormone called Cortisol - the "stress hormone." This hormone causes the body to store up excess fat and water in preparation for starvation that may come as a result of this change.
Our bodies react in a similar way today when any traumatic event happens.
For me, the "trauma" occurred about a month before I got engaged. It was the near death of my step-dad, whom I love dearly and who helped raise me. His illness struck quickly and sent him into a full-blown coma in a matter of days. My mom (being a wonderful wife) stayed by his side 24/7, while I (at 18 years old) was responsible for making all other arrangements - including notifying family members and flying them in to "say their goodbyes."
Most bodies, once the traumatic event has subsided, will reset themselves.
Mine never did. So this stress hormone has been coursing through my body (and in my saliva, apparently) ever since. It triggers adrenaline (hence, the shakes) and causes my body to store more weight than necessary (effectively shutting down my metabolism). Basically, my body has been in high-stress mode for five years, regardless of how peaceful (or stressful) my surroundings are.
So, before we decide on a treatment option, he wants me to spit. Every three hours. For 24 hours. Into tiny little tubes that somehow morph into 1-Gallon Mason Jars that are impossible to fill.
Ok. Maybe they don't morph. But, sitting here at 11:30pm, after a long day of "pool and drool," this last tube looks like an Olympic size swimming pool... of drool. Heh.
So, test results and treatment decision will be discussed around the middle of this month.
I'll keep you posted.
In the meantime, I am off to dream of cave men spitting into swimming pools... fabulous.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Keepin' it real...
All right, ya'll. Here's where it's at.
I have lots on my mind and lots to write about.
But I can't.
Right now.
And I don't want to keep ya'll hangin' around, on the edge of your seats, in unbearable suspense (you know, 'cause I'm sure that's how you feel when I don't update).
So I'm taking a month-long hiatus.
I will be back with more of the fabulousness that is my life in about 4 weeks.
And there will be LOTS to talk about.
I prrrr-omise.
Ta Ta for now.
I have lots on my mind and lots to write about.
But I can't.
Right now.
And I don't want to keep ya'll hangin' around, on the edge of your seats, in unbearable suspense (you know, 'cause I'm sure that's how you feel when I don't update).
So I'm taking a month-long hiatus.
I will be back with more of the fabulousness that is my life in about 4 weeks.
And there will be LOTS to talk about.
I prrrr-omise.
Ta Ta for now.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Most recent song...
Who am I that you are mindful of me?
Who am I that you would run after me?
Who am I that you would sacrifice your life?
Who am I that you would call me your wife?
Your wife, your wife, your wife,
You call me your wife.
Who am I that you come and rescue me?
Who am I that you won't stop until I'm free?
Who am I that your heart breaks when I'm away?
Who am I that your love beckons me to stay?
To stay, to stay, to stay,
You beckon me to stay.
I am, I am.
I am the I am.
I am that I am.
I love you, for I am, I am, I am.
I love you for I am.
Who am I that my love could break your heart?
Who am I that you knew me from the start?
Who am I that you pursue me when I run?
Who am I that you'd sacrifice your son?
Your son, your son, your son,
You sacrificed your son.
I am, I am.
I am the I am.
I am that I am.
I love you, for I am, I am, I am.
I love you, for I am.
Slay me with thirst, that I may drink of you.
Take away my vineyards, that I may eat of your table.
Guide me through the desert, that I might lean on you.
Walk beside me there for I am unable.
I am, I am, I am
I love you for I am, I am, I am.
I have been so overwhelmed by the love of God over these past few days that I sometimes don't know how to handle it. How could you love me like this, Lord?
I have always "known" that He loves me... you know... 'cause the Bible tells me sooooo.
But over the past days, I feel that I have glimpsed a piece of the vast, powerful, indescribable love that the Father lavishes on us.
And, I'll be honest, ya'll. I have felt completely unworthy. "How could you love us like that, Lord? How could you love me like that?"
But the answer came yesterday during my time of worship with the Lord. He doesn't love me because of anything that I have done or because of anything I have been.
He loves me because of who He is. He is... the I am.
............
For some really awesome music (that I just can't get enough of), check out Kari Jobe here.
Who am I that you would run after me?
Who am I that you would sacrifice your life?
Who am I that you would call me your wife?
Your wife, your wife, your wife,
You call me your wife.
Who am I that you come and rescue me?
Who am I that you won't stop until I'm free?
Who am I that your heart breaks when I'm away?
Who am I that your love beckons me to stay?
To stay, to stay, to stay,
You beckon me to stay.
I am, I am.
I am the I am.
I am that I am.
I love you, for I am, I am, I am.
I love you for I am.
Who am I that my love could break your heart?
Who am I that you knew me from the start?
Who am I that you pursue me when I run?
Who am I that you'd sacrifice your son?
Your son, your son, your son,
You sacrificed your son.
I am, I am.
I am the I am.
I am that I am.
I love you, for I am, I am, I am.
I love you, for I am.
Slay me with thirst, that I may drink of you.
Take away my vineyards, that I may eat of your table.
Guide me through the desert, that I might lean on you.
Walk beside me there for I am unable.
I am, I am, I am
I love you for I am, I am, I am.
I have been so overwhelmed by the love of God over these past few days that I sometimes don't know how to handle it. How could you love me like this, Lord?
I have always "known" that He loves me... you know... 'cause the Bible tells me sooooo.
But over the past days, I feel that I have glimpsed a piece of the vast, powerful, indescribable love that the Father lavishes on us.
And, I'll be honest, ya'll. I have felt completely unworthy. "How could you love us like that, Lord? How could you love me like that?"
But the answer came yesterday during my time of worship with the Lord. He doesn't love me because of anything that I have done or because of anything I have been.
He loves me because of who He is. He is... the I am.
............
For some really awesome music (that I just can't get enough of), check out Kari Jobe here.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Back in the Saddle Again....
Ok, ya'll, it was not my intention to go almost three weeks without a decent entry, but it's just one of those thangs that happens in the summer time. Short excuse list: Kids Camp, Camp Meeting, Washing and Packing for vacay, and then off to the beach for some leisure time.
Now I'm home and ready to get back to the work... ahem... pleasure that is writing this here blog.
At the beach this past weekend, my intention was to relax with Christan (my roommate from freshman year and best friend)and her lovely family. She has a daughter who is about four months older than Chloe, and her husband is also a good friend of mine and Brandon's.
I knew that I would have quite a bit of *alone* time since Brandon had to work and Chloe would still need her regular naps and early bedtimes. So I decided to take a good book to read.
I had originally decided on The Shack so that I could come back and discuss it with Kim via our blogs. However, for one reason or another I decided to wait and get my $8 used copy from Amazon before splurging on a new one. So, while standing in the bookstore with Starr, she convinced me to borrow one of her books.
It's one she has told me about before. Redeeming Love, by Francine Rivers. She told me a while ago, "It's like a Christian romance novel. It's the story of Hosea set in modern times." Now, she also went on to say it was powerful and life-shattering and all that stuff. But all I heard was, "It's a sappy romance novel."
Still, the thought of sappy romance on the beach sounded like the perfect relaxation tool.
Boy was I wrong.
I cracked the book open the first evening and couldn't put it down until 3am! Because this ain't just another novel, ya'll.
This is the picture of God's unfailing, undying, unquenchable love for his bride. For me.
I couldn't put it out of my mind all weekend. Because it's too much. Too much love. That He would pursue me when I have run away. That He would come after me when I have whored myself out to the things of this world. That He would love me in spite of it. That He would see me for who I am, and not what I have done. That He would heal the wounds that I have brought upon myself by fleeing from Him.
That kind of love. That's more than I can handle.
And certainly more than I can describe with any vocabulary I have.
So I'll just say this: Read the book. Then read Hosea. Or just read Hosea.
Here's a sneak peak from Hosea Chapter 2:
So now I will expose her lewdness
before the eyes of her lovers;
no one will take her out of my hands.
I will ruin her vines and her fig trees,
which she said were her pay from her lovers;
I will make them a thicket,
and wild animals will devour them.
"Therefore I am now going to allure her;
I will lead her into the desert
and speak tenderly to her.
There I will give her back her vineyards,
and will make the Valley of Achor [trouble] a door of hope.
There she will sing as in the days of her youth,
as in the day she came up out of Egypt.
"In that day," declares the LORD,
"you will call me 'my husband';
you will no longer call me 'my master.'
I will betroth you to me forever;
I will betroth you in righteousness and justice,
in love and compassion.
I will betroth you in faithfulness,
and you will acknowledge the LORD.
I will plant her for myself in the land;
I will show my love to the one I called 'Not my loved one.'
I will say to those called 'Not my people,' 'You are my people';
and they will say, 'You are my God.' "
Now I'm home and ready to get back to the work... ahem... pleasure that is writing this here blog.
At the beach this past weekend, my intention was to relax with Christan (my roommate from freshman year and best friend)and her lovely family. She has a daughter who is about four months older than Chloe, and her husband is also a good friend of mine and Brandon's.
I knew that I would have quite a bit of *alone* time since Brandon had to work and Chloe would still need her regular naps and early bedtimes. So I decided to take a good book to read.
I had originally decided on The Shack so that I could come back and discuss it with Kim via our blogs. However, for one reason or another I decided to wait and get my $8 used copy from Amazon before splurging on a new one. So, while standing in the bookstore with Starr, she convinced me to borrow one of her books.
It's one she has told me about before. Redeeming Love, by Francine Rivers. She told me a while ago, "It's like a Christian romance novel. It's the story of Hosea set in modern times." Now, she also went on to say it was powerful and life-shattering and all that stuff. But all I heard was, "It's a sappy romance novel."
Still, the thought of sappy romance on the beach sounded like the perfect relaxation tool.
Boy was I wrong.
I cracked the book open the first evening and couldn't put it down until 3am! Because this ain't just another novel, ya'll.
This is the picture of God's unfailing, undying, unquenchable love for his bride. For me.
I couldn't put it out of my mind all weekend. Because it's too much. Too much love. That He would pursue me when I have run away. That He would come after me when I have whored myself out to the things of this world. That He would love me in spite of it. That He would see me for who I am, and not what I have done. That He would heal the wounds that I have brought upon myself by fleeing from Him.
That kind of love. That's more than I can handle.
And certainly more than I can describe with any vocabulary I have.
So I'll just say this: Read the book. Then read Hosea. Or just read Hosea.
Here's a sneak peak from Hosea Chapter 2:
So now I will expose her lewdness
before the eyes of her lovers;
no one will take her out of my hands.
I will ruin her vines and her fig trees,
which she said were her pay from her lovers;
I will make them a thicket,
and wild animals will devour them.
"Therefore I am now going to allure her;
I will lead her into the desert
and speak tenderly to her.
There I will give her back her vineyards,
and will make the Valley of Achor [trouble] a door of hope.
There she will sing as in the days of her youth,
as in the day she came up out of Egypt.
"In that day," declares the LORD,
"you will call me 'my husband';
you will no longer call me 'my master.'
I will betroth you to me forever;
I will betroth you in righteousness and justice,
in love and compassion.
I will betroth you in faithfulness,
and you will acknowledge the LORD.
I will plant her for myself in the land;
I will show my love to the one I called 'Not my loved one.'
I will say to those called 'Not my people,' 'You are my people';
and they will say, 'You are my God.' "
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