Warning:  I'm about to be like that friend who just had her first grandbaby and you see her at the mall and she traps you in the Dillard's shoe department forcing you to look at her slew of pictures and listen to her go on and on about every detail.  I mean.....just so you know. 

So, Davis' retirement party was so nice.  So much food.  Good ol' southern food that went on for what seemed like miles down the tables.  Let me tell you, there's not much better in the whole world than 9x13 Pyrex dishes stretched out in the deep South topped with an assortment of fried onions, corn flakes, Ritz crackers, and melted cheese......oh, and a brisket so tender that it melts in your mouth like a wedding mint.  There were people there from his current co-workers all the way back to some who worked with him when he came on board at 22 and in his words, "had no idea what I was doing." After the food, they presented him with a plaque, some cards and gifts, and his retirement pin.  I mean, everyone looks forward to the day when they can finally get their hands on a coveted retirement pin, right?  I'm sure he'll wear that everywhere.  The best part- they had so many kind things to say about Davis.  Words like integrity, faithful, steady, and dependable kept coming up and they made me proud with their stories of how he always does the right thing.  That's the Davis we know at home, too.  There's no doubt that what he'll miss most about his job are those friends who he considers to be his second family.  Having that kind of comradery at work is a real blessing.


No, really Davis and I couldn't be happier!  Isn't that the prayer of parents of daughters from the time their little pink bundles arrive?  That, somewhere in the world, there are parents who are teaching their little boy to be kind, forgiving, and faithful.  That they're taking him to church and reading to him about Jesus.  That they're teaching him how to be a man and how to treat a lady.  Urging him to be independent and responsible and a hard worker.  And that when they've done their job that God, somehow, would let that little boy find your little girl in this big, big world.......hoping that you've taught her all that she needs to know, too.   

Through the years, there have been young men come to our door to pick up our daughter for dates.  They've come to take her to the movies, ballgames, dinner out, and proms.  They've come dressed in blue jeans or in formal wear with a corsage box in tow.  They've all been polite and said, "yes, ma'am" and "no, sir" and nervously opened the car door for her.  They've shared meals with us and joined us on trips.  Different personalities.  Different backgrounds.  Different goals. 

As it goes with parents, we've trudged along with her through the years of dating and the heartaches and crushes and everything that goes along with the process of elimination which we all have to endure.  Then, there came John Samuel and something was different about him.  The difference was on his face when he looked at her.  It was a love that I recognized because like I told him when he asked for our blessing, "You love her like we love her.  You take care of her like we take care of her."  

John Samuel is another blessing our family received from Davis' job.  John Samuel's dad works in the same office as Davis.  The two of them would discuss their college kids and give and receive updates around the water cooler, so to speak.  Funny story.  At some point, it was decided between the dads that their kids should meet and so when John Samuel came home for Christmas, two years ago, he gave Blair a call at his father's urging.  He asked her for a date and they went out the night before they had to go back to different colleges at the end of Christmas break. 

I remember their first date.  It was raining.  No, not just raining.......it was like a deluge of Biblical proportions.  Blair had gotten ready ahead of schedule which is almost unheard of and she was trying to decide if she should be in the back of the house when he got here or if she should be in view when he arrived.  So many things to consider when trying to execute a successful first date. 

The doorbell rang and a tall, dark, handsome young man stood there at the door....with raindrop marks all over his shirt.  He came in after shaking the rain off of himself.  He was a little nervous which is understandable considering he was meeting his date, her parents, her brother, and their old, ornery dog for the first time......and all at once.  You'd have to have nerves of steel to not be a little uneasy about all that.  He shook Davis' hand and said all the appropriate things expected from a young southern gentleman.  After a few minutes of conversation, they were gone.  Out into the stormy night. 

Well, the first date led to another and another and here we are two years later.  Not many couples can thank their fathers for finding the love of their lives. 

Of course, John Samuel did it in grand style using the southern backdrop of the beautiful Oak Alley Plantation.  He's had the proposal planned for months.  He even arranged for her sorority little sis to be there in hiding to take pictures.  After things settle down a bit, I'm interested in enrolling Davis in John Samuel's course on romantic event planning.  I feel he could benefit from some refresher classes.

You know, like I don't have a clue what I'm doing or where to start.  I'm sure this is just a temporary condition brought on by all the excitement of the moment.  Yeah, that has to be it.

So, all of these life changes should give me plenty to blog about in 2017.  I can't wait......I think. 


I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas with your family and friends. I appreciate your time and loyalty to my blog.  I'm greatly humbled by it.  You'll never know how much it means to me. 

May God bless you and yours this holy season. 
 
          

1) Well, tomorrow is Davis' retirement party at work.  Because Davis is not one who enjoys the warmth of the spotlight, he insisted that they not make a big thing out of it and so his co-workers are going to have his celebration in conjunction with their district Christmas party.  As his loving wife, of course, I'm invited.  The retiree's spouse is not a role I've ever played before and so I will be forging new ground tomorrow.  After working for the same agency for 33 years, this is going to be quite an adjustment for him........and if I find him loafing around the house unshaven in his pajama bottoms very often, well, it's going to be an adjustment for me, too.  Davis has never been a loafer so I don't expect it to be a problem.  I do look forward to him having more time and flexibility to be with us, his adorable and irresistible family.  I'm sure I'll have pictures and stories about the retirement party that I'll force you to look at so don't go too far.

2) Like you, we've been so, so busy!  This was our first night at home in a while and so I was able to finally put up some Christmas adornments outside.  You'll be happy to know that we don't look quite so atheistic to passing cars now.

3) We've covered a lot of Christmas party ground since we last talked.  So far, we've eaten a lot of saturated fats, played our share of Dirty Santa and got to visit with people we love.  But, one of our very favorite treats is always celebrating Christmas with our dear friend of 25 years, Mrs. Wright.  She was one of our very first neighbors as a married couple and we've kept up with her through the years even though that was two houses ago.  Mrs. Wright is only a few days from turning 92 and if I'm.......well, alive at her age, I will consider it a blessing and if I'm still as active and engaged as she......well, mercy.  She's something else!  

I don't know what it is about Christmas that makes us more emotionally aware of the preciousness of those around us but it sure does.  Everyone seems to have a heart that sees the value in others at Christmastime.  Eyes that can see the treasure they possess by having that person in their lives.  That's how we were feeling about Mrs. Wright, the other night.  She's tossing around the idea of a move to be near her children which would take her away from us and so just the thought of that may have produced a tear or two as we were all reminded of how much we cherish being part of her life.

4)  Christmas is such a fun time of year but there are a lot of people who are hurting, too.  Our sweet friend, Barry, just lost his mother and I know that there are so many others who are grieving and trying to navigate the holidays for the first time.  It's just a hurdle that has to be overcome and it's not the least bit fun.  Like we talked about, the other day, Christmas has so many memories attached to it that it just brings those we're missing to the surface of our minds over and over again.  I'm praying for all those who are sad in the midst of all the merriment.  Those who have something tugging at them so hard.  Someone they're missing at the table.  Something that's weighing down the light spirit of Christmas for them.  God, be close to them during the holidays.

5)  Well, my sweet cousin, Amy, took some pictures of us for a Christmas card.  We were ill and void of color when our appointment with the photographer came around and so, after the plague finally subsided,  Amy was kind enough to work within our 1 hour time frame in which we were all available at the same time. 

So, I sat down to design the card on the computer and I started thinking about addressing all of them and mailing them out and I talked myself right out of doing cards this year.  I guess I'm suffering from a lack of motivation.  It could be a lingering effect of the virus but I'm taking the easy way to Christmas Day and I'm kinda liking it.  So, if you would have received a Christmas card from us, it would've looked something like this......
       

           
         
   

It's true.  There are a lot of perks to being an adult.  No bedtimes.  You can eat what you want to eat.  Nobody's telling you to eat the green beans if you don't want to.  You can buy what you want to buy.  You can drive where you want to go.  No studying or sitting in class.  You can plan trips.  Watch as much television as you want to watch.  Wear what you want to wear.  Stay out as late as you want to stay out.  Make decisions for yourself. 

Yeah, adulthood is a pretty good deal, I have to say.  We even spend a good part of our early life wishing for it.   

But, there could be a time of year when being a child might have the advantage. 

Yeah, I'd definitely say so. 

It's Christmas.

At Christmas, there's no contest.  It's better to be a kid.  Before the innocence is gone. Before the anticipation wanes. Before the busyness crowds out the wonder.  Before the mysteries are all solved.  Before something simple is turned into something so complicated.     

I remember the building suspense leading up to Christmas when I was a child.  It was so strong, sometimes, I just thought I would explode!  By the week of Christmas, the butterflies in my stomach were in full flutter mode and I didn't know if I could wait another second.  I'd remember all the things I'd circled in the Sears catalog and I'd imagine what I'd find under the tree.  There was always an item or two that I really hoped would be there.  A Barbie Styling Head or an Easy Bake Oven or a Merlin electronic game.  And time just seemed to stand still.  Like really, really still.  And those days after school let out were brutal in their snail pace.  The days in December just lumbered along while I slowly went insane with anticipation.   

I remember there being a coziness about home during the Christmas season.  A lot of music and movies and food and decorations and Bible reading.  We had some Christmas albums that played on the stereo almost non-stop during December.  My favorite was a boxed set we had.  It was a treasury of Christmas music and it will forever be the sound of Christmas to me.  It was a time when there were special homemade candies and lots of really good food that we didn't get any other time of the year.  I remember helping Mama roll the pecan sandies in the powdered sugar and using a fork to crisscross her little cheese wafers before they went in the oven.  Mmmmm.  Those were special things reserved only for Jesus' birthday.  We'd decorate our real tree from the grocery store as a family.  Usually with a Christmas cartoon special playing on the console TV.  Daddy would put the lights on the tree and we'd hang all the ornaments plus the ones we'd made at Sunday School usually featuring our school picture, some felt, sequins, and a lot of Elmer's glue.  I remember it being a warm, fuzzy time of year.  Daddy would read the story of Jesus's birth from Luke and something about his deep voice reading those words seemed to officially declare it a holy time of year....even to us as little kids.  I just remember there was more being together at home than usual.  I liked that and so much else about Christmas.    

And the night before Christmas, well, that was generally a sleepless night.  I mean, who could sleep at a time like that?  You were on the brink of the biggest event of the whole year, Christmas morning.  The thrill of the unknown.  The mystery of Santa.  The smell of new baby doll plastic and the pleasure of ripping cellophane off a new board game with all the pieces.  The excitement of looking over to see what your brothers got, too.  It was enough to make your heart pound.  All night long.     

There are a lot of wonderful moments in life.  Times that our minds go back to and wrap us with the warmth of their recollection.  But, not much in this life can rival the memories of being a child at Christmas. 

A lot has changed about Christmas since then.  The month goes by a lot faster.  It's here and gone before you know it.  It's definitely picked up the pace since I was young.  Now, the thrill is found more in giving than in getting.  The anticipation is for the reactions of those that I love.  There are people missing at Christmas now and some traditions have changed.  The stress and bustle of the season can dull some of the sparkle.  Christmas is more complicated than it used to be.  Sometimes, we can feel like we're backstage handling all the ugly details while the real thing is taking place on the other side of the curtain and we're missing it all. 

Like you, I'm waist deep in all things Christmas.  The gift shops are in the middle of their busiest season.  Until next Wednesday, tonight was the last night we had without a social commitment.  I've yet to put one single, solitary decoration outside our house.  Currently, from the road, we look like the neighborhood atheists in need of a salvation track.  Appearances is the only thing drawing me to put them out at this late stage of the game.  And after a solid couple of days in stores and post offices and two nights in the middle of the floor, I've finally finished buying, wrapping, and mailing our gifts.....including the last minute additions and the stack of dirty Santa gifts we'll arm ourselves with for our various parties. 

The joyful, innocent spirit of the holidays can get lost in the stampede of the season.  There's so much to do.  So much to think about.  So much to prepare for.  So many expectations to meet. So many boxes to check off. 

I can easily let the childlike wonder of Christmas get buried in the details.  But, I think Jesus wants me to keep His birthday pretty simple.  Just like I remember it being.  So long ago. 

With the wonderment of a child.  With the joy of a child.  With the heart of a child. 



Y'all have a great weekend celebrating!                 
    

Well, Carson and I went out to grab some lunch on Saturday.  I needed to run a couple errands and I used the promise of food to bribe him to come along.  That illness really messed with our appetites and there was almost nothing that sounded good but I was thinking a grilled chicken sandwich might hit the spot so we stopped in at a local restaurant while we were out and about. 

I love to observe people.  I guess I'm a people watcher.  I don't like to brag but I can usually assess what's going on in a group of people if I can just watch them for a little while.  Well, my seat  was facing a table where five women were looking over their menus.  They seemed to be having a pleasant time.  It looked like a mother in her 60's, her two daughters (30's), and two young teenage granddaughters.  Now, since I didn't actually know them, I could've been way off on all that but those were my best guesses.  Anyway, I imagined that they were out having a girls' Christmas shopping day on that cold, rainy afternoon and had stopped to take a lunch break.  Probably, the night before, someone suggested how fun it would be to all load up and get out into the hustle and bustle and enjoy the season together.  I felt sure that everyone thought it sounded like fun and agreed to make a day of it.  Or, at least, that's how it all went down in my mind.      

Well, I looked up from my menu to ask Carson what he was going to order and I saw one of the "daughters" saying something very serious to the "mother"......like she was saying something argumentative or something she needed to get off of her chest.  Maybe it was about something that happened earlier while they were shopping.  Maybe it was a grievance from a long time ago.  Maybe it was something someone said.  Either way, the teenage girls' eyes widened and they looked around their table to take in everyone's facial reactions.  I felt like I was watching something that I shouldn't be seeing.  Like the wreck you didn't want to see but, as you got closer, the curiosity got the best of you and you ended up gawking.  I couldn't help it.  It was like I had to know what was happening on this live episode of reality TV. 

Well, I could see the mother's mouth moving even though I couldn't see her face.  I could see that she was having her turn to reply to whatever was said to her.  And then, it happened.  The daughter's eyes began to tear up.  It was one of those mother/daughter moments not ever mentioned on Hallmark commercials.  The tears were probably a mix of anger and frustration and she crossed her arms and kind of stared off in the distance.  Everyone at the table sat awkwardly.  Not saying anything.  But, in true southern form, it was all done quietly and discreetly.  No scenes were being made.   No screaming.  No storming out.  As a matter of fact, I wouldn't have even known anything was happening if they hadn't been directly in my line of sight and, well, if I didn't have that people watching hobby.  The mother paid the check and got up and walked on out to the parking lot.  The others hung back and slowly followed at their own reluctant pace.  Clearly, their girls' day out had made a serious turn for the worse. 

I thought, "Well, it's that time of year again."  Time for family and crowds and everything that goes along with them.  Sometimes, our Rockwell moments take more of a National Lampoon turn as we try to execute the perfect family Christmas.  Problem is......families are never perfect so it's hard for them to pull off perfection for more than an hour or two.  We have visions of shopping trips and cookie baking and caroling that resemble Thomas Kinkade's imagination but then there are these things called hormones and sore subjects and insecurities and pet peeves and holiday stressors.  Yeah, you get yourself a good case of PMS and put it in a car for three hours going to Grandma's with a low carb diet, a gum chewer, a smacking pet peeve, an incessant talker, and a screaming kid and see what a pretty Christmas card picture that makes.     

Yes, 'tis the season when there will be too many of us crammed into kitchens.  Trapped in cars for long periods.  Sleeping on couches and hideaway beds.  Stuffed into living rooms, dens, and porches.  Squeezed around tables.  Sharing bathrooms.  Packed in stores like sardines.  Suffocating in crowded elevators and waiting areas.  Lost in miles and miles of lines.  Bumper to bumper on roads and highways.     

There will be people tucked into every nook and cranny of our personal space for the next 19 days.

And in the words of Ellen Griswold, "I don't know what else to say except it's Christmas and we're all in misery."

No, not really but it can get a little dicey at times.  So, let's not forget to extend goodwill to each other during the Christmas season.  If you think someone is getting on your last nerve, well, you're probably stomping all over theirs, too.  May we find common ground there as we stand atop each other's nerves and agree to take one for the team. 

"Peace on earth, goodwill to men." 



Y'all have a good Tuesday!     

Well, since we last talked, we've all fallen.  One by one.  To the stomach bug.  Actually, I think this thing is more than a bug.  It's more like a flu.  I'm no doctor but I think the difference between a bug and a flu can be determined by its duration, the presence of fever and body aches, sightings of the death angel, and whether you wake up on the floor not knowing how you got there.

We're all at various stages of recovery.  At various stages of reintroducing solid foods.  At various stages of regaining strength and skin color.  Each terrorized with his or her own last meal flashbacks.
 
If you'd like to enter our 5 day weight loss program, just come on over here.  Our home is apparently infested with everything needed to guarantee the loss of 4-6 lbs. in just a few, long days.

I'd like to write something but I think my brain is dehydrated.  I picture it looking like a dried raisin you'd find between the couch cushions so I'll wait until it's had time to soak up some more moisture. 

Y'all be careful out there.  There are some nasty, nasty germs floating around.


See you next week. 


                 

Well, Thanksgiving weekend was going really, really good until Friday afternoon.  We'd, oh, so enjoyed my family's Thanksgiving feast on Thursday night and were looking forward to having Davis' family over here to celebrate with them on Saturday.  Well, Blair and her boyfriend, John Samuel, went out to lunch on Friday and then they got into all the Black Friday madness and that's when it happened.  Right there in a department store restroom.  Blair fell victim to the stomach virus. (insert record scratching noise here)

Now, there are certain minor ailments which you could have in your household and still move forward with party hosting but the stomach virus isn't one of the ailments on that list.  No, no one wants to drive by your house, much less eat there, when you say those dreaded words.  So, sadly, we called off the Thanksgiving meal with my in-laws.  We also cancelled our Christmas card picture appointment because, well, it's difficult to have your family picture taken when one of you can't sit up and is the color of loose leaf paper. 

I don't know how y'all are but I just don't play around with the stomach virus.  Sure, when the kids were little and really needed my help, I would get in there and get my hands dirty.  Pardon the pun.  Now, not so much.  I will pat on you, and comfort you during almost any kind of illness but if you've got the stomach virus, you are on your own, my friend.  I don't care if I'm married to you or if I birthed you or if you birthed me.  I don't care who you are.  I don't love on people afflicted with the stomach bug.  It's not really the sight of throw up.  That doesn't bother me when it's my own kids.  It's just that I don't want what you've got. 

So, I'd put my nose down in my shirt and without touching any knobs or surfaces, I'd push Blair's door open with my foot and ask through the sophisticated, antibacterial filter of my t-shirt, "Can I get you anything, baby?"  "No," she'd reply weakly.  On my way out, she informed me that the last place she ate was a Mexican restaurant and that I'd be without my Mexican food amiga for a good, long while.  

I don't know what it is.  I just feel like stomach ailments are so much more contagious than other sicknesses.  Just the mention of someone having it and your stomach starts to feel queasy.  You never know if you're actually getting it or if it's just the power of suggestion.  You can almost see the germs creeping around the house like big rats.  You can feel them like crawling up your neck like hairy tarantulas.  So,  I closed the doors off and tried to keep the patient in a cordoned off area in order to limit the spread.   

Well, it was my good fortune that John Samuel was home for the weekend when she came down with this.  They're in that dating stage, you know, when you just want to be together (insert birds singing) .......no matter if the other one is puking their guts out or running back and forth to the restroom.  Your love just won't allow you to be separated at such a trying time no matter the risk to your own health.  He'd check her temperature and get her Gatorade and medicine.  He stretched out across the bed with her and rubbed her back, kissed her forehead, and stroked her hair while she slept.  I'd warn him when I'd go in there with my nose covered, "John Samuel, you can't snuggle with the stomach virus."  But, he wasn't concerned.  I guess a mother can feel pretty good about a young man who will stay by her daughter's side through gastrointestinal upset.

Well, she got better and, much to no one's surprise, John Samuel came down with it this morning.  So, Blair and his Mom took him back to school today because he wasn't in any shape to drive.  Bless his heart. 

So, while she was gone, I put on my latex gloves and sanitized everything.  The Clorox wipes.  The lemon-scented Lysol.  All the switches, bathroom surfaces, and knobs got disinfected.  Davis stripped her bed and the guest room bed where John Samuel had slept.  We opened the doors and let the cool, fresh air circulate through the house.  We got the washing machine and dryer going.  It was kind of like a viral exorcism.  We had it like an operating room up in here.  

Until, literally, just two minutes ago, when the dog's ears perked up and I heard a lot of commotion coming from down the hall.  Carson has it now.  So, let me get my nose back into my shirt and go check on him. 

I think I feel something crawling on me.   

Where is John Samuel when I need him? 

Save me from all of these sick people.   

                   

One morning, earlier in the week, I woke up and crawled out of a warm, soft bed....a comfortable place used to recharge my body and spirit after a long day.  I got up and walked to the kitchen where I had my choice of many different breakfast options.  Cranberry juice, apple juice, orange juice, milk, coffee.  Sausage, eggs, bacon, cereal, breakfast bars, fruit.  My kitchen was full of delicious things. I turned on the faucet to fill my glass and pure, clean water came out for drinking.  Right there inside my home.  As much as I wanted.  I reached in the cabinet and got out my medicines. Medicines used to treat and prevent and relieve were readily available to me.  I turned on the television to watch the news.  I had access to information and different points of view on what's going on in our country and the world.  I watched a couple of news stories about the new president-elect who was chosen by a democratic process in which everyone had a say.  I headed to take a shower and get ready for the day. A warm shower to make me feel refreshed.  I walked into my closet and looked through all of my clothing options and then shoe options.  There was something in there for any occasion. It was hard to decide.  I grabbed one of my several jackets because it was a little chilly outside.  I headed out to the garage and climbed into my vehicle.  I cranked it and it took me where I needed to go in just a very short time.  I met a friend for lunch.  We bowed our heads before we ate our hot meal and thanked God for our time together.  We weren't fearful of punishment or afraid of reprimand.  After lunch, we walked through a couple of stores where I bought a gift and something else I probably could've done without.  We walked to our cars and I saw the American flag flapping in the breeze near the shopping area.  It was flying over the country that guaranteed us the freedoms that we were enjoying together.  We hugged and parted ways and I drove on to work.  I passed a hospital, a doctor's office, a police department, a dentist's office, a fire department.....all available if my family ever needed them.  Navy jets flew overhead in the big blue sky.  They were ready to combat any threats to our nation's security.  I passed my son's school.  A safe and caring environment where he goes to get a good education.  As I drove, I noticed several churches where people gather and worship God any time they choose. I arrived at my job which pays me to do what I enjoy doing in a comfortable environment and for a fair wage.  My son and my mother called me on my phone during the afternoon.  My daughter and husband texted me, too.  I was able to easily communicate with the people I love no matter where they were.  I made my way back home after work.  I went in from the cold and sat down in my chair with my family there.  It was a dry and warm place.  I heard the heater come on.  The warm air felt so good.  No matter what the weather conditions were outside, I was safe from them there.  My refuge at the end of the day.  My husband came in from work.  He'd been at the job that provides us with all the things we need and some things that we just want.  I got up to start supper.  I turned on the oven and reached in the refrigerator and got the ingredients that I needed to make a meal for my family.  When we got finished eating, there were leftovers.  No one in our house went to bed hungry.  As it got closer for bedtime, I reached over and took the Bible from the table next to my chair and read for a little while.  From the chair where I sat, I could see four more copies of God's word in that room alone. Then, I got my laptop and decided to work on a blog post.  I was free to post anything that was on my mind.  It was up to me. 

Before I went to bed, I thought that it had been a pretty routine day.  Nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  Just a normal, run of the mill day weighted down with blessings and gifts.  Some I recognized as gifts as I was enjoying them.  Others, I just considered routine and skimmed right over their worth.  God, when I find myself becoming desensitized to my blessings, help me not stay in that place for long.  

I know there are parts of this world where my routine would be considered only a dream. God has most generously poured out His provisions over us......and then some. 

I want to remain constantly aware that, without Him, I would have nothing.

Happy Thanksgiving to y'all!

I'm thankful for you.      

 

 

                

Well, I met most of my goals, last week.  You know, the one about preparing home cooked meals......did that.  Eating vegetables......yes.  Sleeping embarrassing amounts of time......done.  Nursing Carson back to health.....check.  Blogging......um, not so much. 

I don't know why but this time change thing has really messed me up more than usual.  I hear the older you get, the longer it takes you to adjust to change and I guess it's true.  I usually see Carson off to school in the mornings and then crawl back in bed for a couple of more hours of sleep.  I know......I'm a sorry excuse for a functional, worthwhile person in the morning.  But, with this time change, I come out of my blackout-curtained bedroom and step into what looks like the midday sun and so, by the time he's left for school, I'm awake.  That's all fine and good, I suppose, until nighttime comes and I'm fighting to stay awake at 9:30.  That is not who I am and I'm not proud of it.  My most fruitful and inspired blogging hours are usually from 10:30-12:30 a.m.-ish and so, all the days that I haven't posted lately, well, there is a very good reason for that.  I was unconscious.

There are night people and there are morning people.  I belong to the night and so this is a very uncomfortable and unnatural place for me right now.  I feel terrible all day long from getting up early but, with each passing day, I hope to acclimate better to the new time and gradually stay up later than a 7 year old girl on allergy meds.  Until then, we will muddle through this difficult period together.

Time can give us fits on so many levels.  Last week,  I was stopped in my tracks when I realized it was the middle of the month already!  I'd been so busy at the stores that I hadn't had time to think about much of anything.  I thought it was like the 11th when I realized it was the 16th and my favorite three months of the year were already halfway over.  Dang. 

I've been waiting for this since Easter.....even before all the Peeps were eaten, my appetite for the warm weather had been satisfied.  Then, summer dragged itself through here like a snail on downers.  I thought it would never pull its miserable, humid tail on out of here.  As a matter of fact, it took it about 2 months longer than it should have to make its drawn out exit.  Now, here it is almost Thanksgiving and I'm feeling a little panicky at how fast it's all going.

It seems like when we've got things how we like them, time puts the pedal to the metal.  When we're in the middle of something we're not enjoying, it's like the little old lady with blue hair driving 45 in the passing lane oblivious to how badly you're needing her to just GO!  Your hour long massage goes by a lot quicker than, say, the hour of your pap smear appointment.  And Christmas Day seems several hours shorter than, like, Arbor Day.  And a week of jury duty limps along way slower than your vacation week with its Olympic record time.  It's just a fact.  Time flies when we're having fun and, right now, I'm having fun.....but at warped speed.  Ugh.  I'll be swatting mosquitos and sweating through my clothes before you know it.

In other news, I took Carson to Birmingham, this weekend.  He's been wanting to see if he'd like to get into some mountain biking and, since my brother is a legit racing cyclist, I took him to spend a couple of days riding the rocky trails with his Uncle Lee.  I invited Blair to come and make a shopping trip out of it.  I mean, is there anything from which you can't make a shopping trip?  I think not.  Fun was had by all.  We returned with a lot of shopping bags and only a few tree-induced abrasions.         

And this, right here, is the start of one of my favorite weeks for many reasons.  One being that I never left the town where I grew up and so holidays always bring a lot of friends home to visit their families. I know time is precious when they're home for just a short while and so I'm tickled to death when they call and want to get together.  Tomorrow......lunch with my friend, Karen, my roomie at Mississippi State, and dinner with my high school friend, Amanda, so I'm just a little excited.  All this is after my morning mammogram so I anticipate the morning will pass more slowly than the rest of the day. 

Another reason to list this week at the top of my favorites is, of course, that the end of the week will bring a lot of family and a lot of food.  My Mama and her sister, Aunt Gloria, will cook their traditional Thanksgiving spread using my sweet Grandmother's old recipes.  She was one of the best cooks that ever was and she taught her girls well.  They make it just the way she did.......down to the special coarsely ground corn meal that she used to make the cornbread dressing.  Mmmmm.  It'll be a gathering of about 40 or so and we're adding to that tea glass total all the time.  Needless to say, it's one of my favorite days of the whole year.......so I know it will go by (insert snap) just like that.

It is now 11:16 and I'm still awake.  We are making progress, indeed.


Y'all have a good start to this holiday week!     

   

        

 
     

Well, last night, I had a recurring dream.  This dream and I go way back.  It's one that I used to have when I was still working as a wedding floral designer.  It's a dream that always makes me wake up in a cold sweat. 

Here's how it goes......I'm working on the floral arrangements for a wedding.  I'm watching the time.  I'm making a mental checklist of all of the things I have left to do.  I'm working as quickly as I can.....which is never very fast in dreams.  The clock's minute hand is spinning around like the second hand as I work in a panic.  All of a sudden, I hear people behind me coming into the church..........and then the music starts playing.  Oh, my word!  I'm not done and guests are starting to arrive.  I've got so much to do!  So, I do what any respected florist would do in this situation.......I find the bride and ask for 15 more minutes.  It's amazing how flexible brides can be in dreams.  She consents.  I work at the front of the church as the piano and strings play "Clair de Lune" and the guests file in, checking their watches.  The floor is littered with flower stems.  I haven't put out the candles yet.  I still have one big floral arrangement left to do.  And the bride cracks open the door to tell me my 15 minutes is up. 

I wake up with my heart beating like a drum. 

I hate that dream.  Even though there are always variations in the specifics, the scenario is the same.  Every.  Single.  Time. 

The timing of this nightmare is very predictable.  It always surfaces when I'm feeling like a have a whole lot to do and maybe feeling a little squeezed in the face of it all.  Last night's showing was no exception.  It's time for the Christmas open houses again and, until November 13, my co-workers and I will be in the throws of preparing for and hosting three open houses and, while it's a lot of fun to work on it together as a team, it's also pretty darn tiring.  

That being said, I'm going to disappear until around the 14th.  You'll know where I'll be......the front of the church with the organ playing; trying to get the floral arrangements done while the guests are breathing down my neck and the bride is pointing at her watch.........so to speak.

Hope the next 20 days or so are good for you!

I'll be back!   

                  

Well, if we can all just hang on 18 more days, maybe our country can begin to decompress from this incredibly long and volatile election season.  It just seems like there's so much tension in the air.....so much division in our country.  I talked about this a week or so ago.....how it can all start to affect you if you let it.  I understand that the American Psychological Association has found that half of us are suffering from a condition which they've named "Election Stress Disorder".  Gee, I can't imagine why, can you?    

Today, I decided to share an old post from 2014 because (a) I've been too busy to write much this week and (b) in hopes that, for a few minutes, maybe we could soothe our election-weary brains and remember that the more unified and constructive side of us does still exist.           

I'll admit it.....I'm pretty much a news junkie.  I think it's so important to stay informed but being apprised of all of the goings on can also have its downside, too.  Sometimes, it feels like I'm only hearing about the bad side of America and her people.  Story after story of hate, deceit, greed, and every form of disregard for human life imaginable.  Child neglect.  Illicit affairs.  Fraudulent lawsuits.  Injustice.  Murder.  Molestation.  Drugs.  Corrupt politicians.  Discrimination.  Theft.  Cruelty.  Mass shootings.          

I know all of that exists, but I want to tell you about the America that I see every day.  She's the one who rarely makes the headlines. 

That America has been filling up sandbags and boarding up windows ahead of a hurricane.  She's the family fostering a child who was abandoned and needed a home.  She's the large group of volunteers who gather to find a missing child.  She's the man who pays the bill for the car behind him in the drive through. She's the van, full of willing hands, that pulls into storm ravaged towns.  She's the prayer service that meets to lift up a sick friend to the Great Physician.  She's the stranger who chases the purse snatcher.  She's the neighbor mowing the widow's grass when she's not home.  She's the jar full of dollar bills on the counter at the gas station.  She's the car that stops to help change the old man's tire.  She's the little, white girl and the little, black girl who don't see color when they look into each other's face.

She's the one who turned in the money that she found. She's driving an elderly friend to the doctor.  She's the group of guys who volunteer to take the disabled vets hunting.  She's the doctor, nurse, and dentist spending their vacations in a hot, primitive tent helping patients halfway around the world.  She's the plane load of food and medical supplies flying over the oceans to desperate situations.  She's the group of children caroling outside the elderly couple's door.  She's the missionary, who left the comforts of home, burdened for people she's never met and who don't even speak her language.  She's the man who offers his seat on the subway. She's the fund set up at the bank for the family of the fallen police officer.  She's the one who pulls over for the hungry dog by the railroad tracks.  She's the guy who takes up time with the boy without a father.  She's the lady who gives one of her kidneys for a friend.

She's the firefighter who ran up the same World Trade Center stairs that everyone was clamoring to get down.  She's a gym full of cots and warm food when the storm blows.  She can be found scooping green beans onto a lunch tray at the soup kitchen.  She's the disabled soldier who left his cover to save a comrade.  She's the volunteer who spends his Saturday working to build a home for a needy family.  She plays the piano for the patients at the nursing home.  She's the boy who holds the door open a few extra seconds for the lady coming in behind him.  She's the one cooking a meal for her neighbor with cancer.  She can be found digging through bricks and twisted lumber, with his bare hands, hoping to find survivors.  She's the truck loaded with Christmas shoeboxes traveling dusty, remote trails lined with poor children.  Her name is on the bone marrow donor registry.  She's the stranger who stays with the wreck victim until help arrives.  She's the soldier who stoically guards the body of the Unknown Soldier no matter the conditions. 

She's the mother who takes out the trash and throws a baseball while her husband is deployed.  She's the table full of casseroles and pies delivered to the family in grief.  She's the man who jumps in to save a little girl from drowning.  She's the boy who stands up to the bully for his friend.  She's the scout leader who spends a lot of his weekends on a cot instead of a golf course.  She's the fish fry that benefits the sick, little boy.  She's the box full of canned goods at the school's food drive.  She's the man who builds a ramp for his disabled neighbor.  She's the present under the tree of a child who wouldn't have gotten one otherwise.  She's the underpaid teacher who stays late to help a student.  She's the rescuer who won't give up the search for the child missing in a flood.  She's the five dollars handed out the car window to a homeless man.  She's donating sick leave to a single mother with a chronic disease.  She's the childcare worker who loves her class like they are her own.   

She's the PTA.  The little league coach.  The red kettle full of quarters and nickels.  The church with open doors on a cold night.  The blood donor.  The check written to Make a Wish.  The volunteer fireman.  The anonymous donation. The mentor.  The Eagle Scout.  The quilts made for patients on the cancer floor.  The bake sale.  The driver for Meals on Wheels.  The prayer list tucked in a Bible.  The Sunday School teacher.  The family who takes a card from the Angel Tree.  The volunteer at the children's hospital.  The poll worker.  The care package sent to a soldier.  The dad working three jobs.                                           

That is the America I know.  That is who she is to me.

And I'm so proud to call her home. 

Even still. 

Good may not frequent the news.  There's not much air time available for what is good and decent but, for our own mental health and for our spirit of unity, let's not forget that it's there.  Alive and well and living among us. 


Y'all have a relaxing weekend!    

Over the weekend, Blair was in New Orleans visiting her boyfriend, John Samuel, who's in school there.  She always comes home telling us what all they've done.  The sightseeing.  The shopping.  The Saints games.  The eating.  The coffee and beignets.  The festivals.  The art.  Lots of fun stuff.  It made me think how a couple's dates tend to change through the years. 

Davis and I always go out on Friday nights.  Sometimes, we go out with other couples and, occasionally, we may let one of our offspring tag along if they're without plans and look at us like they're hungry but, more often than not, it's just the two of us.  It's our date night.  What constitutes a date has really changed over the course of the years, though, as I'm sure is the case with most couples. You find you just have to go with the flow of life.       

Dating couples-  Oh, ladies, this is the peak of the date experience.  It's at its finest right here.  It's funny how we start out on the peak of Mt. Wine and Dine and descend from there but, hey, that's just the way life happens.  When you're dating, he's trying to impress you and so there is no restaurant too expensive or concert too costly or destination too far for you.  No, ma'am.  If he's going to lure you into promising to love and cherish him through kidney stones, a c-pap machine, an enlarged prostate, and goodness knows what else -only to be relieved of your duties through death then he's going to have to put his best foot forward here.  There are a lot of things for a young woman to consider before making such a decision but a man knows that filet, James Taylor tickets, and a dozen roses in the passenger seat could help to clarify things for her.  Money is usually never mentioned in this phase.  If you want to hit the road, you hit the road.  If you want to go to a concert, you go.  If you want an appetizer, entrée, and dessert, you order it.  That's just how it usually is in the dating stage.  It's a fun place to be. 

Newlyweds-  Dating is still pretty good, here......maybe just a little different.  After the wedding, phrases like "budgeting" and "staying on budget" and "that's not in the budget" start to emerge, here and there.  At first, you're like...."What is this budget you speak of?"  I mean, because you've become so accustomed to the "whatever you want, dear" treatment.  Sure, it's most likely because, at this point, you've purchased your first home or the reality of being prepared for the future has hit but this new word, budget, starts creeping up in conversations.  Even so, with it just being the two of you, there's still plenty of wiggle room to date big.  Oh, the fancy trips and the fun weekends.  The ballgames.  The plane tickets.  The getaways with friends.  This is a special time.  Still having fun but with more adult-ish restraint.

Parents of small children-  Ok, well, this is where dating starts to get dicey.  Here, we begin the descent from the summit.  I mean, dates during this period require the hiring of personnel to keep the children and so you've spent half your date money before you even leave the house.  And with diapers, formula, and newly formed college funds sucking money off the top, there's not as much to work with for dating.  This is the beginning of looser translations of the word, date.  I remember there were books written on creative dating, back in the day, or AKA how to get out of the house and away from the children for cheap.

I remember we'd hire a sitter or get the grandparents to come over and we'd go to dinner.  Dressing up wasn't appealing at this stage because you were just completely exhausted.  So, nowhere fancy.  Preferably somewhere you had a coupon.  We'd sit and talk about nothing but the children who, ironically, we needed a break from.....and sometimes, we'd be so curious about how they were doing that we'd call home and check.  After dinner, we'd be so excited as headed to the grocery store so we could buy a few things without offspring hanging from the cart and pacifiers flying through the air and hitting the dirty floor.  Was there anything better than just going to the store by yourselves?  This is the stage where the fun threshold is so incredibly low that you can cross it with little to no effort......like driving around in the minivan with the empty car seats, eating a Blizzard, ejecting the Barney CD, and cranking up Savage Garden.  It's the simple joys you begin to appreciate here.  Forget the roses.  Let's just go sit in a parking lot somewhere with a pizza and enjoy the quiet.    

Parents of teenagers and college kids-  Well, this one here is a mixed bag.  While your kids are old enough to tend to themselves, they are also costing more money than our national defense.  Like....you're literally hemorrhaging money at this point in your life.  Bleeding out.  There's car insurance for your fleet of vehicles, prom dresses, college tuition, cell phone plans for the masses, fraternity bills.....and did I mention they eat like Clydesdales?  Add to that all the hair color and hormone patches you're needing at this point.  Dang.  You realize you've given birth to parasites. 

So, while you do have the freedom to get out more, your money may be otherwise committed.  This is the stage in which you may decide to split the fajitas because "they just give you so much."  You sit and talk about, well, the bloodsuckers and whatever is going on with them at the time......ACT scores, their significant others, college tuition hikes.....and the impossibility of retirement. Afterwards, your date may suggest something like a run by the AutoZone so he can get some windshield washer fluid because your warning light is on.  Really, he's just trying to fill the night with some free entertainment and what more could a woman want than a half order of fajitas and a chance to peruse the assorted windshield fluids?  When you get done with that, you usually head back home early because, well, you get tired faster now and, not to mention, you're needing a bowl of cereal, at this point, because the fajitas just didn't cut it.

Empty nesters-  While I can't speak to this stage, I imagine there's a lot more freedom to go and do and travel.  This is the stage in which you stop cooking, RVs are purchased, and grandchildren are dropped off a whole lot.....or so I've been told.  I guess we'll find out what it's like in due time.   

In love, sometimes, it's lobster, roses, and Broadway.  Other times, Quarter Pounders, Home Depot, and Redbox.  Who we are and what we enjoy together changes through the years.  It's good to just have your own kind of fun along the way. 

Y'all have a good Tuesday!      

   


       

Well, I took a couple of days off for fall break.  Not that I actually get a fall break but Carson got a fall break and I guess I thought I needed one, too.  I had a few projects around the house that I'd been wanting to get done and I stayed home and did just that.  The main one was giving Davis' home office a facelift.  He's decided he is going to retire from his job of 33 years at the end of the year and take another full-time job that will have him working from home.  I'm happy to report that the makeover is complete.....fresh paint and all.

I think the project wasn't just about checking something off of my list but it was also helping me work off some nervous political energy.  Don't worry.....this post isn't about any particular candidate.  I wouldn't dare go there.  I don't know anyone who's ever won friends that way.  But, let's be honest- I don't care who you're voting for, no one can feel good about the state of our political system or election process. 

I've been walking around with a tight feeling in my shoulders, my teeth kind of clinched......and finding myself taking a lot of deep breaths.  I've described it to friends as feeling like I'm buckled into the backseat of a speeding car that's being driven erratically by crazy people and they're taking me to places where I don't want to go.  I can't get out.  I can't stop the car or slow it down.  I can't reach the steering wheel.  I can just see that we're on a dangerous road and, there, I sit.  Strapped in.  Unable to do one thing about where we're going or how fast we're traveling or if we're following any of the laws.  It's most unsettling when we feel helpless.....for some of us more than others.  When things seems to be out of our control, well, that's not one of our favorite feelings. 

I don't know.  Maybe it's always been this low and dirty and the only difference is this age of social media and non-stop news is feeding us this constant flow of disturbing information.  We know about every deception, every smear, every scandal, every infidelity, every bit of fraud and betrayal and malice and injustice.  Day after day after day.  Story after story after story.  Spin after spin after spin. After a while, it starts to wear on a person, you know?  Maybe because I feel so small in the face of it.  Maybe because my one vote seems too insignificant to fight it.  Maybe because I'm afraid of all the darkness that surrounds it. 

I guess my anxiety isn't as much for myself as it is for my children and nieces and nephews.  Motherhood or "aunthood" or "grandmotherhood" or basically any kind of "hood" that causes us to dearly love someone who's traveling along behind us in this life......well, those various "hoods" kind of amplify our fear and apprehension of this questionable path we're currently traveling.  No one wants to feel uneasy about their kids' futures, their dreams, their security.  No one wants to anticipate that their kids will have a more arduous course to run or a steeper hill to climb.  No one wants that.  That's not the way it's supposed to be.     

I guess I feel about as inconsequential as little David must have looked when he was gathering his smooth stones from the stream and stuffing them into his bag preparing to fight 9' Goliath.  Such a big giant. Such little stones. Such an overwhelming task for such limited ammunition.

Goliaths are inevitable in life, I know.  Some of them are so daunting that we can't even see the top of their heads from where we stand.  We look up and they seem to stretch all the way to the sky.  We swallow real hard and our knees start to feel weak and shaky.  I guess that's where I am right now with all of this.  Very overwhelmed.  A little anxious.  So, so, so frustrated.  Considerably ineffectual. Pretty darn angry.  

But, I'm going to gather my little stones and I'm going to continue to pray for our nation and this whole process and I'm going to vote on election day.  Because I belong to God and He is still in control.  Even though it may seem that evil and deceit and depravity are at the helm, all authority still belongs to Him.  None of the candidates will be perfect or ideal....or, needless to say, make the best Sunday School teacher......but I will look at the issues and reach in my little bag and use the stone which I've been holding.  I will make it count.  I will take ownership of it.  Because leaving my stone in my bag isn't an option.  God never wants me to run scared from the fight.  He wants me to do my part and He will take it from there.    

Please pray for the hearts of the candidates and please vote, y'all.

Have a good one! 

           




               

Life has a way of tricking us.  Tomorrow convinces us that it will be the same as today.....that there's no cause for alarm.  Time fools us into believing that it doesn't have any surprises in store.  It lulls us to sleep with the hum of the familiar. 

I'm most guilty of not loving with urgency.  Maybe I place too much trust in the predictability of tomorrow.  I just want to count on it being a repeat of today.  That complacent state of mind that is content to believe that nothing will ever change.  That my little nephew and niece won't ever get too big or too cool to be seen with their aunt at school.  That my children won't ever move far away from home and that my nest won't ever be empty.  That my Mama won't ever grow old and leave me.  That Davis will be around as long as I am.  That next year will be just like this one.......and the year after that and the year after that.

But, I've been tricked by life before.  Sometimes, it pulls its stunts quickly and abruptly.  Sometimes, it's more of a slow and painful shift.  But, either way, it happens in the same way.  It follows the same format.  One day, life is fine, just the way we want it and, the next, it's all changed.  

As I watched Lelan and Lily get off the school bus.....spent the night sleeping between my mother and my daughter at the hotel......ate Greek food with Lee and Jenny......I thought how beautiful the love of family is.  It would be marvelous if we could preserve the present forever.  Even more marvelous to reach back in time and bottle it up before some painful losses were incurred....before some of those unwelcomed changes had taken place.  But, life doesn't work that way. 

So, we just live and love in the moment.  Reminding ourselves that nothing is set in stone.  That the clock is running.  That change is inevitable.  But that we have the gift of today.  A gift that's ours to spend as we choose.  And on whom we choose. 

May we choose wisely.

May we have no regrets. 
 


Y'all have a good one!          

            
       

So, today's post is a little bit of this and a little bit of that.

1) The cooking supper thing that we talked about is coming along pretty well.  I've got my kitchen mojo back and, upon request, I thought I'd share a recipe that we just love at our house!  It's a good, hearty soup that you make in the crockpot and it's perfect for a fall night.  Now, I know there are some crockpot snobs out there, but I love an easy one pot dinner and this one is really good.  It's got your meat, your starch, and your veggie.  So, here goes.....        

2) Well, you asked for a picture of me in my wedding dress so, here, it is. 
You can't really tell in the first picture because of my flowers, but take a look at that stomach on the right side.  You could play Jenga on it.  Now, it might make a better skee ball ramp than Jenga table. Davis, well, he looks exactly the same but he didn't birth the children either, so it doesn't count.  And, yes, some of you asked if Blair tried it on and she did.  It fit her with even a little room to spare and the arms were a bit too long but it's just as well.  I don't think its 90's charms worked on her. 
  
3) October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  Maybe like some of you, my first pregnancy ended in miscarriage and so many of our family and friends have also experienced that same kind of loss.  A couple of months ago, one of my blog readers, Daphne Petrey, sent me a children's book that she'd written, I Have a Brother-My Brother Is in Heaven.  She and her husband experienced the loss of a son at only two days old.  She had older children at the time and she used her experience to write the book to help siblings cope with such a confusing and sad situation.  This sweet book is written from a child's perspective and I would definitely recommend it if a child in your life is dealing with this kind of loss in his or her family.  Daphne also has a blog, Carry Them Forever, if you'd like to go and check that out, as well.  She's a lovely lady!   
4) So, I'm going to be gone for a couple of days.  My Mama's birthday is Tuesday and we're going on a little overnighter along with Blair who will meet us when she gets done working.  We'll be in Birmingham and plan to do some shopping, eating, and, of course, see my brother and his family who live there.  I believe having lunch with my niece and nephew at their elementary school is on tap for Tuesday.  Oh, I hope it's grilled cheese and veggie soup day or rectangle pizza and corn on the cob day.  My love for those cafeteria faves go way back.  Anyway, I'm sure I'll have a lot to talk about when I get home.

Hope your week gets off on the right foot.......and I hope you can feel a little fall in the air!  
 

I'm sure you all watched the debate tonight and, if you're like me, you could use a diversion from all of the commentators and social media feedback. 

How about if I tell you a cat story?

Disclaimer: No animals were harmed in this blog post. 

On Thursday, I started getting texts from the three gift shops.  They were sending out the SOS.  Everybody had received big Christmas orders from UPS and the boxes were stacked high.  About seventy boxes at each location.  Yes, that's a seven and a zero.  Cardboard mountains that needed to be conquered.  So, I'd decided I'd make the rounds, helping them get a handle on the overwhelming situation.  I headed out to the first store and, on the way, made a stop by McAlister's to get food for the troops.  I knew it was going to be a late night. 

I got out at the restaurant to pick up the order and I heard a "meow" but I didn't think much about it.  I went in and came back out with the food and I heard another "meow".  Well, I knew that this particular McAlister's had a stray cat that liked to hang around the outdoor eating area and so, again, I just assumed he was close by.

I got back in the car and headed to the store which was about a 20 mile trip and, when I got out there, I heard the "meow" again.  "Oh, shoot," I realized, "there is a cat somewhere in this car!" 

So, let me just stop here and insert some information.  I'm not a cat person.  I'm a dog kind of girl.  For the most part, there are two kinds of people in the world....the cat people and the dog people.  I am the latter.  The dog people are a little freaked out by cats.  It's not that we wish cats any harm.  They just sort of give us the creeps with their claws and sinister eyes and menacing strut.....and, well, the way they look at you as if you are a complete idiot. 

So, now that you have that background information, we'll get back to the story.

I listened for the distressed "meows" and tried to determine where they were coming from. I popped the hood and looked around and all I could see was a black tail sticking out between the whatchamacallit and the thingamajig.  I'm quite knowledgeable of all things under the hood, you see.  Anyway, I knew exactly who that black tail belonged to.  My neighbor's cat!  I'd recognize that tail anywhere.  I could see that the cat was clearly stuck and I was definitely over my head in the world of cat extraction so I went in the store to get some help.

The pharmacist and one of the pharmacy techs came out to assist me with my feline crisis.  The tech, Katie, well, you could tell this wasn't her first rodeo.  It was obvious that she had removed a cat or two from the innards of a car in her day as she was unscrewing thingamajigs and pulling out whatchamacallits all while assuring me that she'd put my car back together once the cat was dislodged.  Did I mention the smell because if I didn't then this would be a great time to do that.  Thursday, being the first day of fall in Mississippi, was a comfy 97 degrees and the cat, in all of its emotional and physical distress, had pooped all up under my hood. Let me tell you, cat poop which has been baking in the combined heat of the Mississippi sun and a Toyota motor, well, that will fortify a dog person's preference to canines.  If for no other reason, for their total disinterest in infiltrating one's transmission.

Anyway, Katie's arm finally came out with a cat and, just as I suspected, he was my next door neighbor.  I took him and held him as far away from my person as I could because, again, cats give me the creeps.  I knew I had to get the cat back to my neighbors' house.....which was 20 miles away.  Or did I?....asked my evil twin.  Well, yes, of course, I did! 

The cat smelled horrendous and, since he'd been sitting in his hot poop, I knew one thing was for sure.....he wasn't getting in my car without some means of confinement.  I grabbed a box.....we had 70 of them so that wasn't a problem......and after giving him a quick drink of water and an explanation as to how this was going to hurt me more than it would hurt him, I proceeded to stuff him into the box.  I instructed Bonnie, my co-worker, to run some tape over the top of the box while I punctured air holes all around the sides.  Well, that worked for about 2 minutes and then.......

 
He popped his head through and leaned it back in a dramatic fashion which is so typical of a cat as if to say, "I've had just about all that I can take in one day,"  Well, at least, he and I had that much in common.  I gently pushed his head back in the box as I tried not to gag at the smell.  So, we got him back in the box and got it all secure.  I put him in the back of my Highlander and I cranked up the air conditioner so he'd be nice and comfortable and to keep my nausea at bay.  I mean, I just wanted to minimize his and my additional discomfort at this point.  I needed to get the cat home. 

He meowed and meowed for several miles and, then, it stopped.  I thought, "Well, this can mean one of two things....(a)The cat has fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion after this traumatic experience or (b) the cat is dead."  That possibility brought up a whole host of pet etiquette questions.  How does one return a dead cat to a neighbor?  I don't think I'd ever been taught that.  I think my Mama failed me there.  Do you ring the bell and run?  Attach a post-it note to the box saying, "call me."  Oh, I prayed the cat was just asleep. 

Well, I started talking to the cat in hopes of getting a response.  "Hey, Kitty Kitty."  I didn't even really know how to talk to a cat.  Still, nothing.  Then, I saw a black head peek over my back seat.  No, no, no!  The poopy cat was free in my car!  He slithered over the seat and crawled over the bags and boxes I had back there and he was headed straight for me.

He sat his poopy booty on the console next to me and began to rub his head all over my arm.

"AAaaaahhhhhh!  No, kitty.  Go away.  Shoo."  I'm not sure if he was thanking me for saving his stowaway tail or jinxing me with some kind of ominous black cat curse.  His singed whiskers were the scars he bore from the 20+ miles he'd spent under my hot hood.  I rode the last 5 miles home being rubbed by a cat. Eeeww. 

We drove up in his driveway and no one was home.  I opened the car door and he couldn't get out fast enough albeit with a few more holes punched on his 9 lives card.  I texted his "daddy" and explained why they might notice that their cat had scorched whiskers and was exhibiting symptoms of post traumatic stress.  I did some disinfecting and threw away the box and, upon inspection, I saw that he'd executed his escape by enlarging one of the air holes until it was about the size of a softball.  I don't know what he used......maybe a file from a cake or my oil dipstick or something.  I don't know.  But, that explained his silence.  He was busy. 

I headed back to work with the smell of charred cat poop still stuck to the inside of my nostrils......and a life or two poorer myself. 

The moral of this story is......well, I don't know the moral of this story.  But, maybe it got your mind off of politics for a few minutes. 

Y'all have a good day, cat and dog lovers alike.