Touchdown!

You ever have a good day? 

The kind that makes you lie in bed at night and just smile as you stare off towards the ceiling in an attempt to fall asleep?

Or perhaps the kind of day that makes you run that extra half mile on the treadmill as sweat runs between your eyebrows?

Wait, is it the morning you walk into your workplace and realize the office is only open a half day?

1.  I believe it's all of the above.
2.  I believe that day was mine today.

And to top it off, my not-really-adopted-nor-blood-related-sister-in-spirit gave me a grand laugh. 

Yes, she's wearing a high school football helmet.  I have that affect on her and lately she's gone through Rach withdrawals, so the insanity was bound to come out.  Or maybe the bottle of Mt. Dew about a half hour before this had something to do with it, too.

Despite the real reason behind her putting the helmet on her oh-so-fabulous new hair cut, I'd like to think that I had a little something to do with it since normally she acts much more grown up and less like a teenage girl dating the quarterback. 

I'm pretty sure neither of us were ever in that position, which is a shame.  Those would have been some lucky quarterbacks!

Random doesn't even start to cover it

My best friend could indeed kill me (or at least wish she could strangle me) after reading this.

You see, the past few days here in Mayberry have been a bit... haphazard.

Unsystematic.

Accidental.

Capricious.

Erratic.

Arbitrary.

Impulsive.


You get the idea.  Nothing has seemed to go on as it should.  It's like the world has turned a strange degree off on its axis and now I'm paying the price for the routine my life has been stuck in.  Why might you ask?  You'll see....

First, it was the price of gas.  It fell by a nickle and this girl did her Friday dance on a Tuesday.

Then, it was the remnants of an unexpected text message last Wednesday morning.  I was at the height of my bronchitis-induced-antibiotic-steroid-inhaler high and received a text from an old friend I hadn't talked to in a while informing me he was in town.  You see, he normally works in a city an hour and a half away and has been known to send me the ever-so-unplanned text from time to time and never respond to my response.  That makes sense, right?  Perhaps that's one reason we aren't better friends. 

Anywho, we went to lunch and whatnot and as we were catching up, he tells me about a date he blew and I told him about the most recent code names.  As soon as I refer to another guy as "Slick" he looks bewildered and says "You dated a guy named Slick?" No, no, no. Then I had no choice but to let him in on my top secret naming process of guys who spark my interest.  Although that's probably not top secret anymore since I put it on the internet, but that's alright as long as I leave real names out of it.  And telling him about it might not have been the brightest idea, because he looks at me and smiles with his dancing brown eyes and says "What's my code name?" Like I'd tell him his name even if he did have one!

Moving on to more random fun was a Christmas party Thursday night that I almost didn't get to go to. You see, my grandfather (who will be 92 in six weeks) had a fall so I was on the way to the ER instead of happy hour.  Come to think of it, that might have been a good thing.  But on a bright note, his hip isn't broken as originally believed.  Again, I did the Friday dance on an undesignated day.

Then Friday rolled around - this meant dinner after work with my family at a restaurant a few miles outside of town.  We had so many people, we ended up having two tables and sharing their party room with one business' Christmas party. However, when my nephew's diaper needed changed, I had to go back to the main restaurant's bathroom since it was the only one with a baby station.  And wouldn't you know that in this one night in this one restaurant I ran in to three of the code names. 

Yep, this girl DEFINITELY needs to get out of this town.

December the First

Upon my discovery of today's date, hands went into an immediate shock, my chest palpitated, and my bottom lip was clinched under my petite teeth.  It left me with nothing else to do but figure out everything to be done not only by the time Christmas rolls around, but by the time the ball drops in 30 days and a few hours. 

Oh.  Dear.  Goodness.


23.  How did it get here so quickly?  I swear that it seemed like yesterday I was at the beach with my toes in the sand, recuperating from a 12 hour, all night drive to the Gulf so I could be present when my sister said "I Do" to her beau.  I believe perspiration was in the equation.  That's the opposite of the hoodie and wool socks I'm decked out in now.

11.  My tree isn't put up.  And it probably won't be until Christmas Eve.  Call me Scrooge, I don't care.  But on a bright note, I was able to successfully listen to a minute and a half of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" before I had to turn it off.  That's marked improvement. 

7.  Christmas to me is more about the baby in a manger the rest of the world seems to forget than some caribou with a birth defect of a fluorescent nose.

96.  What percentage of gifts should be bought by now?  Based on my friends' facebook statuses, they're all done. Oops.

47.  Because I'm at maybe 7 percent done.  Maybe.  And six of that seven percent is for the bundle of joy who won't be here until February.  No, I will not spoil this niece.  Ha! Who am I kidding?  There is no hope.

82.  I'm a procrastinator if you hadn't noticed.  If anyone has any suggestions on what to buy my mother, feel free to share them.  Pretty please. 

35.  I've been writing November 1 on everything today.  Phone messages.  Checkbook register.  Notes to coworkers.  My best friend's birthday card.  I blame the fine tip blue ink pen in my hand.

63.  Perhaps I'm still under the influence of my prescription medications currently combating this bronchitis.  Do we need a recap of yesterday?  Falling asleep... while walking.... then falling down.... in heels.  Embarrassing.  Today I was asked if I was driving by half of the Sheriff's Department.  When I replied "yes" they immediately asked if I was under the influence of prescription cough medicine.

59.  That would explain why I can't count tonight.  But wait, I haven't had that cough medicine in over 24 hours.  Why can't I count yet?

74.  Perhaps I'd better go lay down. 

114.  Is Christmas really 3 and a half weeks away??

Say whaaa?

I'm drawing a blank.

I have no idea what to talk about today, and I actually have more than enough time to share a few words with you guys. 


Well, Mayberry is doing well, kinda.  It's asthmatic bronchitis season for yours truly, meaning shots, antibiotics, breathing treatments, steroids and cough syrup.  Yippee! Lucky me!  Although today it did take a funny turn when I accidentally took too much cough medicine and had to call for a ride home.  Did I mention that I live 3 blocks away from my work?  Yea, that was embarrassing. 

So needless to say, I've been knocked out cold the majority of the afternoon and in fact didn't know what day it was when my slumber was startled awake by my sister telling me I needed to eat something so I could take my medicine.  It's nice to have people looking out for me, but I was in the middle of the hardest sleep in recent history.  Boy, it felt wonderful, and was much needed after last night's attack of insomnia which resulted in 3 and a half hours of sleep before I was suddenly staring at the ceiling until daybreak.

With all that said, I think I should catch some more zzz's. 

I'm going to now take a lesson from my niece and hit the hay... not literally, of course, because then I'd really be in a pickle of allergic despair. 

* Note to self: No more cough syrup.

Recently, I was asked about the code names.

Is there a new one?  Any cool stories to update y'all about?  What in the world prompts my name giving?  Do they know I call them these things?

1. No, but there have been a couple since we last spoke on the subject.
2. If I get around to it, I'll let my truck tell the story.  (Don't worry, it's PG-rated)
3. It really depends on how they rub me, how I meet them, or what kind of mood I'm in.
4. One does.  He's cool with it.


So here goes....

My other mother is one of those people who I can tell everything.  She's been in my life as long as I can remember.  She's been my Sunday School teacher, my mom's best friend, my confidant and my role model.  She just gets me.  Well, she is completely responsible for the naming some of them.  And over the past year, she has named about three four.

A couple of the old ones still hang around and pop in from time to time: LT, Mazda, and BD actually wished me a Happy Thanksgiving, and Jose got married a few months ago.  But wait, there are more to add to the list of code names: 2629, Slick and Z.  In no certain order, they were a roughneck country man with a heck of a personality, a closed minded small town guy with no personality, and a hot shot boy with a knack for being perfect eye candy. 

Don't worry, they're all out of the running. 

However, if a funny story pops up, I'll consider filling you in.

Pre-Thanksgiving Thoughts

So tomorrow is Turkey Day.  The day we can eat and eat and eat and eat without (too) much retribution, unless you count the copious amount of dishes stacked to the ceiling in the kitchen sink.

And while I'm sure every family has their own holiday traditions, mine is more of the 'we see/talk to each other regularly enough... so lets just eat' kind of people.  Don't get me wrong, they don't all live in Mayberry anymore, but we remain close.  And with my grandmother's grandkids getting married and having their own families, we realize that there are years when so-and-so can't make it because she's with her husband's family and vice versa.  It's actually a routine that makes pretty good sense: one year they'll spend Thanksgiving with us and Christmas with the significant other's family and the next year it's just the opposite.

Ok, I'll stop rambling about family visiting practices now. 

Back to what I was originally posting about... just a few of my thoughts (but when have my thoughts ever been few?)

1.  Shouldn't holidays be a time to rest and be with loved ones?  All this stress of having the turkey brining at the right temperature and having enough apples to make dumplings for 17 and a half people has really affected my sleep these past few nights.

2.  How long and at what temperature is a turkey supposed to brine?

3.  When did I start using words like "brine'?

4.  Is my camera charged up to take 137 pictures of my niece and nephew in their adorable Thanksgiving attire?

5.  Will my cousin from Arkansas steal my camera to keep me from posting pictures of him on facebook?

6.  Speaking of pictures, will my brother-in-law be wearing that hideous Tennessee orange attire he likes so much?  That orange does not photograph well.

7.  I share the same view as Leigh Anne Tuohy when it comes to the University of Tennessee.  And I'm not apologizing. 

8.  I will apologize if my apple dumplings aren't as awesome as they should be, though.

9.  There is no excuse for untasty baked goods to come out of my kitchen.  Ever.

10.  Is that being overly critical?  That's ok since I'm talking about myself, right?

11.  Good.

12.  My grandma makes the BEST homemade rolls ever.  They're sourdough and I'd jump hot coals and snowmen for them.

13.  But it won't snow this Thanksgiving.  The high tomorrow is supposed to be 63 degrees.

14.  Hopefully I won't get funny looks if I show up to my grandmother's with apple dumplings, sweet potato casserole, and flip flopped feet.

15.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!

The last month in pictures

 1. This is the view from my office for the past couple of months. 

2.  And this is the view from my four wheeler.

3.  Don't forget the view from under my truck.

4.  Or the view from my favorite streets of one of my favorite cities.

5.  Or the view from church on Sunday. (Note: this is NOT in Mayberry)

6.  But right now, I'm loving the view of the radio.

The best view of all.

Have you noticed that I like my hometown... a lot?

It's gorgeous in the fall.

There's just something about a cut cornfield that gets me...

The cool, crisp air.

The captured colors when I trip while trying to take a picture.

 

And the vast amount of leaves that will fall very soon.

Hey, there are red trees, too!!

 

 

But who can forget the best view of all?

Sic 'em on a chicken

Are there any Zac Brown Band fans in the house?

Because I think they're the only ones who might understand the title of tonight's post.  But if you hang in there, you will, too.


Moving on....

I will attempt to summarize the last 3 days in fifty pictures or less.  Give or take a dozen or two.

FRIDAY NIGHT:

 

This is my sister.  Not biologically.  Not legally.  Not by marriage.  But we get each other.  That's all there is to it.

Her mother-in-law had a birthday shindig up at the barn Friday evening and I was able to partake in the celebration.  When I say celebration, I mean karaoke.

Lots of karaoke = Lots of fun.

But I had a sore throat by 11:30.


SATURDAY NIGHT:

Bonfire time!  A friend of mine had a few people over, an array of food, fireworks and some homemade wine.  Oh, and her fiance built a massive bonfire but some silly blonde (me) failed to snap a picture of it before the it was lit.  But the thing was easily 10 feet tall before it went up in flames.

Sadly, the late night Friday made this girl incredibly sleepy, so I was out just after the fireworks.


SUNDAY MORNING:

I'm driving to church, and what do I see?

A chicken.  On the main highway.  In town.

Now don't get me wrong, I grew up collecting eggs from my grandfather's hen house and see chickens plenty out on the county roads, but seeing them loose in town is definitely a rare experience.  And to be honest, I chuckled about this during our church service.

Speaking of which, church was extra-fun today.  Why?

'Cause we had church outside downtown.  Look at all those back row Baptists hiding in the shade!! 

But wait, there's more...

If you feed them, they will come.  Another Baptist philosophy.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON:

In a small town, you know everybody.  And when one of those people you know passes away, going to the funeral home is like going to Wal-Mart.  No, I'm not talking about spending more money than anticipated, I'm thinking more along the lines of never knowing exactly who you're going to see.  

Exhibit A:

 

 

Exhibit B: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2fyUZ5eCsg&feature=youtube_gdata

Yep, there's that chicken again.

Small Town Friday Night

If you've been reading this for a while, you know how I feel about high school football.

 

Well last week was my teams turn to take the field in pink since October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  (Come to find out, it's Pastor Appreciation Month, too, but that's a completely different story.)

But for me, the most interesting part of a high school football game in Mayberry isn't what goes on when the ball snaps.  It's these guys up in the press box.  

 

Like most home games, I watched the game with some of the best play-by-play guys in the business.  Please forgive the photo from last season, it's my favorite.

These guys are pretty awesome.  But so is football.

And this is what halftime means to me - grabbing the guys food.  Lots of food.

Don't freak out, those "ribs" are ribeye sandwiches, not a slab of baby backs. But they're still delicious as ever!  

The only problem when it comes to food-fetching is that I never have enough hands to carry all of them.  And for future reference, when you spill a man's nachos, he gets kinda irritable, so carry carefully.  

 

And we find fun photo ops when we get a little sleepy during a time out.  That blue blur is Coach P (another play-by-player) trying to avoid the picture. Thankfully, Dave was more than happy to accommodate my shutter finger.

And after the game, everyone shakes hands in good sportsman-like fashion.  But next is my absolute favorite part....

The team walks to the home bleachers and sings the school song.  It gives me goosebumps every time...

Now please excuse me while I try to get the fight song out of my head.

Just so we're clear

1.  Today was Monday.  Generally this is where I would say "yuck!"

2.  Yesterday was Sunday.  And it was glorious.

3.  Well, mostly glorious.

4.  My 22 month old nephew said my name for the first time (yay!) and before he said the names of any of his other aunts (double yay!).

5.  For the record, my niece and nephew, and even my niece who will arrive in February, can get anything they want outta me.  It's quite tragic.

6.  While playing tag outside in my front yard with said 22 month old nephew and his 4 year old sister, clumsy me found a way to fall.  Flat. On. My. Back.

7.  It knocked the wind out and here I am 30 hours later with a head/neck/backache that won't quit.

8.  Quick, someone prescribe me something stronger than Advil so I can function tomorrow.

9.  But it was worth it, because little man said my name.

10.  Dang, if I'm like this with my brother's kids, how bad will I be if I should ever have my own?

11.  However, on another completely unrelated note....

I want these.  Five and a half inches of stiletto peep toe platform heaven.

12.  On second thought, if I'm clumsy enough to fall down in my front yard in tennis shoes, I can only imagine me aerating the yard in these.

13.  Guess I'm sticking to running around barefoot.

14.  Thank goodness I'm cool with that.

15.  Oh, and I used to hate the entire month of October.

16.  Glad I'm over that nonsense!

17.  I'll catch yall later, I have corn mazes to wander, pumpkins to carve, haunted woods to spook myself and pumpkin muffins to bake!  It's a good thing I don't have those shoes after all.

Three Day Prompt Service

My family.

They're kinda funny.

Kinda weird.

Kinda OCD.

And Kinda un-punctual.


The first three are fine - I can TOTALLY deal.  However, that last one? Yea, Houston, we have a problem. 

Now don't get me wrong, it's not like they all run an hour late to everything, but a few family members in particular seem to have a hard time accomplishing tasks in a prompt manner.

This post is not about them.

Instead, it's about the only member of my family who is even slightly close to my version of "on time."

To my older sister, Renee', "on time" is five minutes early.  Thank you, finally someone shares my belief.  Perhaps this is why she took me by surprise the other day. 

You see, about a week ago I was in the kitchen gathering the materials for a new cookie recipe (which is seriously the last thing I shoulda been making) when I nearly died of cardiac arrest as soon as I opened the cabinet.

To my surprise, the pound of Crisco I KNEW was in there somewhere was *suspenseful music* MISSING!

That's right.  Gone.  Without a trace.  Missing in action.  Nowhere to be found.  

Thankfully, after a few heart pounding minutes of searching aimlessly, it was recovered and returned to the proper place.  As soon as my heart palpitations subsided and my breathing returned to normal, I sent a text to my older sister who lives three hours away from Mayberry, across a state line in a land of sushi and stoplights.

Ok, after reading the conversation, do you see the problem?  I sent that message to her on Saturday.  When I got the text Tuesday I couldn't help but laugh. 

Three days. 

Do you know the types of things that happen in three days?  Jesus' resurrection, Labor Day weekend, how long you have to stay home after a bad eyebrow wax. 

Life.  Changing.  Events.

Three days, all because she forgot to hit "send."  Too bad my fat thumbs hit it too easily each time I try to type the letter "p."

That time of year again

Remember about this time last year when I told you about this thing that goes down in my hometown?

Well... it's back!

 

Yes, the Corn Festival parade was alive and well this year!  And I had the great privilege of holding a microphone during the shindig alongside one of my mentors... the station manager of the local radio station.  He's like another dad to me, and he hates to draw attention to himself so I suppose I will.  JOHNNY R IS THE BEE'S KNEES!  You should listen to him sometime.  I recommend from 8 am to 10 am Monday through Friday.

There, I told you about the awesomeness that is my old boss.  He's gonna kill me now. 

Moving on....

 

 

Here, our county's high school marching band made their way downtown as the crowd sang along to the familiar tune of the school song.

 

Yes, that's a 1958 International Corn Picker. 

Sadly, I didn't get many pictures of the floats since I was kinda busy running my mouth for the duration of the parade.  However, this is the mass chaos which erupts once the last float has passed and the police cruiser signals the end of the line.

  

And of course at the end of the parade everyone wants to know which business, organization, church or community sports team had the best float.  The winner gets to flaunt this trophy until next year's Corn Festival parade and their name will be engraved with their respective year.

This year's winner was one of the local hardware stores whose float paid tribute to our county's bicentennial celebration.  

Too bad I was too busy talking to snap a picture for ya.

362 Miles Later

Busy.

Touching.

Fantastic.

Eye-opening.

Joyful.

Refreshing.

All of which can describe the last 48 hours. 

Sure, Friday night was wonderful with it being football season in Mayberry.  My county's high school team beat a neighboring county. 41-16.  Now that's how I wish each season's home opener could go.  But, silly me left her camera in the truck so you have zero pictures of a smoky Friday night football stadium, super-spirited high school students, mid-50s radio announcers with binoculars calling play by play action and many confused concession stand volunteers.  Maybe I'll remember to take some pictures at a game before the season ends.

But, the weekend doesn't end on Friday night.  Thank the Good Lord!

 

Saturday: (n) the seventh day of the week, following Friday.

But guess what else Saturday means - it's also the day to get married!

So, yesterday I had the privilege of driving a couple or three hours southeast to see a college friend, Haven,  tie the knot.  Plight one's troth. Get hitched.  Walk down the aisle.  Take vows.  You get the idea.


The beautiful outdoor ceremony was held down by the lake about 3 hours from Mayberry.  Luckily, the directions to the site told me to drive through my alma mater, meaning two things: 1 - I can swing by and see another college friend and grab a bite to eat as we catch up on each other's lives and 2 - I can ride through campus to see what kind of construction they have going on now.  I believe that is completely do-able.  
  
Crystal and I met up for lunch at a Japanese place (completely new to me, since I don't touch ANY Asian food) because I told her I wanted to try sushi.  Yes.  Sushi.  Yes, you read correctly when I just said that I don't eat Asian food. 


It was on my bucket list. I had no choice.  Ok, really I did have a choice, so I did eat the sushi.

The verdict:  Sushi is alright in my book.  Now, I'm not saying I could eat it everyday, but it's a nice change from the ordinary.  Plus, the closest eatery with sushi from my house is over an hour away.  


Moving on, the second stop on my passing-through-college-town-day-trip:

Ahhhh....

It smelled like a grilling festival (because there was a some serious tailgating going on for game day) and looked like it had back when I was the one in stands waving the red towel.  I realize you might not understand the red towel part unless you went to this school.  Maybe you should google it.  

Wow, I feel so much better!

Where was I?  Oh yea, my friend's wedding....

She's beautiful.  Inside and out.  And he's lucky.

Don't worry, he knows how lucky he is.  I told him.  58 times.

 

There she is with her Dad walking her down the aisle.  My eyes may or may not have gotten misty right about now.  Ok, I can't lie to you.  They got misty.  I turned to my friend Heather's boyfriend who was sitting next to me and told him that crying doesn't count for weddings, funerals and during any church service.  

I'm tough, and tough girls aren't permitted to cry except for those places.  Yea, I made that up.  I'm really a sentimental chicken, not a tough girl.  But I still hate crying.

A few passages of scripture, a couple of vows and one smooch later, bada bing, bada boom! We've got a married couple on our hands.

The happy couple begins their new life together!  But let's not get ahead of ourselves.  There's still food to be eaten and people to mingle with.

Oh, and Haven had to drive the houseboat.  She's so friggin cute like that.

My camera blurred.  Dang flash.

 

Many photo ops were taken.

 

Oh, and we might have eaten cake. 

It happens.

Thank you Haven and Broady for tying the knot and for allowing me to be there to help share the special day with you!  I wish you many, many years of happiness and know that you two will make it.  Like Heather said: you have the love that fairy tales are made of.

From the backroad

 

 Do you ever need to clear your mind?
 

Get away from people.

Take a drive.

 Lose cell phone reception.

 Make people wonder if you'll be back in 30 minutes or 30 hours.

Blast the radio as loud as it can go.

Sing along to every single song to the top of your lungs.

Make the fish jump when you laugh.

Simply enjoy the peace and quiet as you sit with your toes in the water.
 

Point your truck back down that gravel road and head back to the real world

Only to feel exactly like this sad looking tree in the bean field: a little random and misshapen yet still in the absolute perfect place.