Full stomach, full life

I don't know what it was but I came home last night feeling more fully myself than I have in a while.  It was during the drive home from a dinner gathering that I realized how satisfied and light and fulfilled I felt.  I felt known and accepted and heard.

The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity.  I've worked everyday this week (a blessing) teaching babysitting camp at the Rec center.  It's been a little stressful because the lessons had some holes in them - I didn't plan the camp and didn't get to see the layout of it until about 20 minutes before kids starting showing up on Monday.  Luckily it's a small group and they're flexible and forgiving and tell me that they're bored so we can cook up something fun.

Tuesday night I had dinner with a church friend of mine, Trisha, who's approximately 40 years older than I am.  I love meeting with her and hearing her take on life and God.  She often feeds my heart and my stomach well and getting to watch her and her husband interact is always a blessing.  They have been married for the same amount of time as our age is different.  I am so glad we've been able to connect outside of church.

Yesterday I had a job interview in the morning as a public relations secretary with the city school district.  I really have no idea how it went, but I know I'll be placed in a job that suits me.  All I can do is keep applying and keep interviewing.  Despite the hectic feeling of the day, I got to end it with a lovely dinner at the house of one of the families from the Rec center.

The Reedy's are such a lovely addition to this area.  They have two girls that I fell in love with the moment I met them.  (Their pictures were among the first hung at my previous cube job).  Both the girls are so lively and friendly and beautiful and happy and full of laughter.  Just seeing them brightens my day.  Last night included lots of laughter and sharing (a lot of that included the girls sharing their toys with me), and I left feeling uplifted.  I have never gotten a good chance to know the adult Reedy's but I feel this could be the beginning of something wonderful.

It seems lately that good dinners have equaled good conversations. 

This busy week mostly ends for me tonight with the Harry Potter midnight showing.  Em and I have decided we must be there.

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The first book came out in 1999, when I was in middle school, and the movie pandemonium started in 2001.  I feel especially kindred to the last HP movie, as the last book was released shortly after Em's and my B&N store opened (it actually caused us to open early).  While I've never read the books I do enjoy going to see the movies, and I certainly wouldn't miss this one.

Cheers to full lives and late night movies.

The Rivah 2011

The last few days were spent relaxing at the Rappahannock River at my aunt and uncle's place. I got to spend lots of time reading, practice my photography (something I've wanted to get back into), and chatting with family and friends. Here are some photos to help with the recap:

The sunsets were totally worth catching.  I made it to one every night except Monday night - a storm shut down our beach cookout party, so there was no sunset that I could see.  This one and the one following were from the 1st.

This is one of my favorites and was taken on the 2nd.

Here's Aunt Patty and the next door neighbor blowing bubbles.  Super fun times were had by all.

Taken at the Marina on the 2nd I think.

Boats and sunsets - that's how you know it's the Rivah

Some of Aunt Patty's beautiful flowers.

Golf carts are the main form of transportation, and you'll often see 10 or more at various locations around the grounds during the sunsets.  During the fireworks on the 3rd, there were at least 50 crammed in to watch.

On the 3rd every year, the community across the river pool their funds and shoot off fireworks for the campground.  There are just a few shots.  The show probably lasted about 15 minutes and the fireworks were pretty good size for being bought personally.  I really like this shot because it shows the boat too.

In the lower right corner you can get just a peek of all the carts that came out for the show.

Cake pops my aunt and I made.  Super easy recipe, and you can make them in a lot of different designs.  We tried to inject them with frosting but haven't gotten that down quite yet.  Super yummy regardless.

Dad and I on the jet ski.  This was the "before" picture.  The "after" picture ended with me sans sunglasses and a wet head from where the whole thing flipped over on us.  I lost my shades and almost my shoes but thank goodness Crocs float!  Dad got picked on for the rest of the trip, with neighbors calling him "flip" and "turtle".



The trip normally takes right at 4 hours to get there, but on the way home we ran into some random traffic on the interstate.  It was one of those things where you stop and creep along, then get back up to speed with no apparent reason as to why you had to stop.  We ended up taking a route through more towns, which I enjoyed, but it delayed us just a bit.  I am super glad to be getting back into a routine, and was excited to sleep in my own bed last night (only the second time I've been there for the last 2.5 weeks). 

Now it's time to play catch up and check some things off my to-do list. 

Post in Pictures

I feel like my posts have been lacking in pictures lately, so here's a few to tide you over...

The clouds have looked like this for the last few days.  I think they look just like when little kids draw them, big lines to make the clouds and coloring in the sky to leave the white of the paper for the clouds.

I passed this on my way home the other day.  County fair here I come - surely that means it's summer!

I got news yesterday that one of my oldest friends has gotten engaged - congratulations Brad and Bentley!!

In other news, I will be taking a hiatus the next few days preparing to go out of town, and then actually going.  Be on the lookout for an update upon my return though.  Cheers!

Knight in Shining Sneakers

I've been dog sitting for the last week, staying in a strange house with a strange animal.  Things had gone as well as to be expected until Friday evening, when I experienced a fear previously unknown to me. 

Let me preface that, growing up, I did not live in a neighborhood.  Our driveway was uphill and gravel and few visitors ever arrived unexpectedly.  We did not have a doorbell, and aside from known guests, UPS men, and expected visitors, few people ever arrived on my doorstep.

Friday evening I had retired, light out, head on pillow around 11:30pm.  Something woke me just after midnight.  At first I thought it was a clock, marking the hour, but upon further consideration, I realized it to be the doorbell.  Nervous, I decided to stay in bed.  My logic was, "It only rang once, so if I don't answer perhaps whoever it is will move about their business."  Ten minutes later, it rang twice more.  Following that same logic, I remained in bed while my small furry companion began barking.  Maybe 30 seconds after the bell, I noticed headlights shining in the driveway, signalling what I hoped to be the visitor's exit.

At this point, I'm still in bed, watching the window with intent eyes, listening for signs of someone in or around the house.  The house I'm sitting at is at the beginning of a subdivision, the first house.  While it is situated in a neighborhood, it's still a bit far removed, and one would have to have the intention of arriving here, rather than accidently stumbling upon a house.  The driveway forks into two, one leading up to the front door, one going down and around to the basement.  I have never before noticed headlights shining into the bedroom window so I have no idea where this car would have been in order to achieve that illumination. 

Unable to sleep, I lay in bed, my mind racing, until almost quarter till 1.  I finally decide to get up and walk around the upper level of the house, listening and reassuring myself that all's well.  Everything checks out and I get back in bed.  Not five minutes passes and the headlights appear in my window again, followed by frantic doorbell ringing.  Terrified, I call my father, who says he'll come over and check things out.  I end the night in the master bathroom, door locked, on the phone with my mother, completely outside myself.

By the time dad arrives, the doorbell has been ringing constantly for 15 minutes or more, and I've come to the conclusion that it's malfunctioning in some way.  Dad removes it from its perch on the doorframe outside, as I sit in the floor to ensure our furry friend doesn't wander out of doors, and as he walks in with it, I notice he's wearing new white tennis shoes.  His diagnosis is that someone did push the button and it remained stuck, which caused it to ring insessently.

I will admit to little experience in dealing with true strangers.  I'll also admit to an extreme dislike of confrontation.  While I was braver than I thought I could be (just getting out of bed was a huge step), I still wish to be more bold and willing to protect what's mine instead of lying fearfully by.  Last night my brother and his friend did me a huge favor and stayed the night with me, bringing video games and laughter as protection.  Now it's my turn to learn how to be able to protect myself.

Snapshot: A Family

It's late and I instinctively hunch my shoulders as I make my way to the car in the rain.  The safety of the dry garage is maybe 5 feet from my car, but my feeble attempt to ward off the rain occurs without me registering it.  Although its dark and I can't see, I know exactly where I am, and I have no trouble envisioning the wide front yard and gray concrete driveway of my parents house.  I fumble with my keys, trying to unlock the car door in the angled stream of illumination from the flood lights.  Finally, the key slides into the keyhole and the lock makes that satisfying click, giving me access to a warm, dry space once again.

I slide the car into reverse and as I look back from the far corner of the long driveway, I see them.  My family.  Dad is in plaid shorts, wearing the green baseball hat that always covers his head while working outdoors.  He's leaning heavily against the frame of the garage door, the left leg bent behind the right, and although he looks relaxed I know he's as sturdy and enduring as the house he's built.  My brother stands behind my dad, his lean body hidden by his position and a large t-shirt bearing the name of a long dispersed high school rock band.  His peeking from behind dad with a comical expression on his face that took up permanent residence sometime long ago when he was a kid.  Mom is barefoot, wearing long shorts and a brightly colored t-shirt, standing slightly removed from the boys.  She's look every bit like the independent and strong woman I know her to be.

I switch the car into drive, my eyes never leaving the sight before me.  I inch forward and watch as three figures, silhouetted in the light, raise their hands and wave me on enthusiastically.  I recognize this as one of those moments in life I'd like a snapshot of, something to pull out when life causes me to forget my blessings.

As I drive away, I can't help but thank God for the supportive, loving, fun family He's blessed me with.  My heart swells with love and I continue down the road.

Letters from Home

The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium. ~Norbet Platt

Today I did something I haven't done in a really long time - I wrote a letter to someone I didn't know.  Not just a cute card sent in to a friend at college, but an honest-to-goodness, handwritten on lined paper letter.

Not my pen, or my penmanship

Danielle, a friend of mine from college, had told me of a airman in her husband's basic training class that hasn't received any letters since the start of training.  She'd sent out a note asking if anyone would be willing to write to him, and without anything to fill my days lately, I had no reason not to say yes.

There's something romantic about handwritten letters.  I've always liked giving them and receiving them but nowadays it's much easier to power up a computer and send an instant email or message.  (I have at least two shoeboxes full of handwritten cards and letters that I've received since I was a kid).  I like to think about all the hands touching my letter, and the excitement the recipient will feel when opening it.

I love letters

I will admit, though, that the experience of writing to an unknown serviceman was more stressful than I'd imagined.  What do I write to someone I've never met?  (I'd also like to mention that not only have I never met him, I don't even know his full name - which means I'm also assuming the person I'm writing to is a he).  Danielle gave me some pointers, but I still wonder about the adequacy of my letter, although I'm sure any notes from home are much appreciated.

While I'm aware that I've romanticized much of (OK, all of) this situation, there is a part of me that hopes he writes back.  I mean, with songs out there like the Dixie Chicks' Traveling Soldier, and John Michael Montgomery's Letters from Home, what woman in their right mind could help but romanticize.  All morning I've thought about the person I've been writing to, wondering about him, and felt a bit like a WWII woman, working to keep our service men's moral high.  At the very least, I'll have a new friend and pen pal out of the deal.

I have also decided today to spend at least one day a week writing letters to people I love, local or not.  Who knows, maybe I'll be struck to do more than one a week.  I'll keep you posted...

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Thirty-two flavors and then some

Yesterday at 12:40 I walked out of my job for the last time.  While it was glorious and much needed, I will admit to missing the people (already) and being a little nervous about the new financial situation I find myself in.  But I believe it's better to be happy and a little strapped for cash than miserable with all the money in the world.

After I left work, mom and I went out for lunch, and I took her to a Mexican restaurant she's never been to.  We spent some time wondering around the mall, and when we were about half way through the journey we ran into her younger sister, who had stopped in to purchase some shoes for her husband for father's day.

Mom and I accompanied her to Finish Line, where I was hit hard with a realization.  Mom was looking at a pair of shoes when the sales person (a boy I went to high school with) approached her and started making his pitch.  The shoes mom was looking at were called Brooks, and apparently they can do everything but actually walk for you.  They have a thing in the arch that's supposed to stabilize your foot and make you walk straighter.  Then there's this button of air you can see on the sole of the heel that is supposed to adjust to the pressure on your feet when you step down.  The salesman talked for probably 3 minutes without taking a breath, just giving information about this high-tech, yet surprisingly normal looking shoe.

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I wasn't really interested, so I started looking around the store and my upcoming trip to Ethiopia popped randomly into my head.  I thought of all the people in that country, and in the world, without shoes.  We're not talking shoes that adjust to your walking style or shoes to help you lose inches or shoes designed for a specific activity like walking or running.  Just shoes to keep your feet covered, protect you from the elements, maybe help you to be able to walk a few years longer.  Here I am, standing in a store with 25 bays of shoes, each of which probably has at least 20 single shoes on display.  That's 500 shoes on display alone.  That doesn't count the mates to those displays, or the various sizes stocked in the back, or the shoes on display on tables in the middle of the store.

My mind was blown.  I sat on a bench for a moment, trying to imagine what it would be like to be a person who had lived without shoes my entire life, and walking into a store like this. 

I couldn't.

Then my mind took it a little farther - this is just one store in the mall.  There are at least 3 other stores devoted solely to shoes in the mall, not to mention all the department stores and small chains that sell shoes too.  We could shoe an entire country without making a dent.

Realizations like this one make me incredibly sad and humble but blessed and motivated all at the same time.  There are so many days I go through without thinking about what I have, about all I've been given and privileged to, and I use those gifts to maintain or obtain my own selfish desires.

Does anyone else think about these things?  Surely I can't be the only one...