Thursday, August 5, 2010

A comeback?

It seems I can post from my blackberry.

After such a long absence, I may start blogging again.

So much has happened. MSH and I have become parents to our beautiful Savannah Marie. He has a new job, and we're currently on vacation!

I'll try to post again soon.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


In memory of my grandmother, Vyrtes, November 30, 1920 to March 8, 2009.

One of my earliest memories is of running around Grandmother's house wiggling my fingers with long shoots of aloe taped to the tips. I was curious as to what was on top of the stove, and I put my hand on a hot eye. I don't remember what I was after or even what it felt like. All I remember is that Grandmother took care of me.

I remember sitting at her green Formica kitchen table in the house on South Capitol Parkway, eating fresh cherry tomatoes so sweet I couldn't get enough. She warned me that biting into them the way I was might lead to disastrous results. I didn't listen and wound up with juice and seeds dribbling down my chin and all over my shirt and the table. She just laughed, as she did so well, and cleaned me up while so I could snack on more of those wonderful tomatoes.

Grandmother had high standards. She expected you to be honest, do your best, and act right. She was such a lovely woman, with silky blond curls, beautiful blue eyes, porcelain skin and an infectious smile. She was full of love and trust and devotion.

She was Sister to eleven, Mother to six, Grandmother to twelve, Great-Grandmother to eleven, even Great-Great Grandmother to one, plus more by marriage or circumstance, Grandmother loved her family. You could see her face light up and a big smile appear the moment we bounded up the steps or opened her door. I believe some of her favorite times were at the family reunions in Highland Home where she could be surrounded by the family she loved so well. She always thanked us for visiting and shared hugs and kisses and sweet treats or little tokens to show her appreciation for coming to help her or just to sit and talk with her. Even after her words left her, during those last few months, she would glow at the sight of Daddy. I was able to visit her several weeks ago, and hold her delicate hand while she stared at him lovingly. She was still wearing one of the silvery rings that we had used to decorate poems at my wedding.

I remember her laughter. Not the jokes or stories, but laughter and her smile. I remember kisses and hugs and "I love you"s. If I listen closely, I can almost hear her voice telling me of the old ways, how to treat any ailment, how the world was different when she was a little girl, how they made almost everything from scratch. I remember her telling me with pride what a lady her mother was. I remember her devotion to Granddaddy. I remember her trusting nature and loving spirit. Mostly, I remember her. One day, I hope to proudly tell my children and grandchildren what a lady my grandmother was.

Memories in the Heart

Feel no guilt in laughter, she knows how much you care
Feel no sorrow in a smile that she’s not here to share
You cannot grieve forever, she would not want you to
She’d hope that you can carry on, the way you always do
So talk about the good times and the ways you showed you cared
The days you spent together, all the happiness you shared
Let memories surround you.

A word someone may say
Will suddenly recapture a time, an hour, a day
That brings her back as clearly as though she were still here
And fills you with the feelings that she is always near
For if you keep these moments, you will never be apart
And she will live forever locked safe within your heart


Sunday, February 22, 2009


The mantra of this weekend has been "Done!"

Done!--Federal, Georgia, and Virginia tax returns. Yes, I do our taxes myself, and no, I won't do yours unless I really really like you.

Done!--painting the trim and touching up the walls in our now blue guest bathroom.

Done!--caulking around the tub, sink, and window in the blue bathroom.

Done!--planning dinner menu for my cousin's visit on Wednesday.

Done!--a blog post before the end of the weekend (barely).

Yet, my to do list seems so long still. Please let me know if you're interested in volunteering.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

It's been WAY too long

OK, so I know that I haven't posted anything in like over 6 months, but I'm back. I promise.

We've moved into our first house; I've had a temp job and gotten a real job; we've adopted a dog; and I've been able to see my family more times in the last 6 months than in all of the last 4 years combined. I've also started a quilt, started making napkins and place mats for my mother, and started an exercise routine, none of which I have completed. It's been wonderful.

I haven't been blogging because I've been busy and lazy. We're finally getting settled into a routine, and I even have photos of 2 new recipes, our house, and the dog to share with you. But first I have to get the photos off my laptop. My Sweet Husband has taken my laptop out of town with him, so I won't be able to get those posts done until he gets back Saturday.

So, lets just ignore the fact that I've taken a 6 month hiatus and get back to what's really important--food, crafts, family, and memories, with a few opinions thrown in for good measure.

I hope I haven't lost my 4 readers during my period of neglect. I'll be before the weekend ends with another post. Until then, my dears, good night. I feel better already.


Friday, August 1, 2008

My Husband Rocks! Friday 8/1/2008

At the wedding shower my aunts Ola and Dot hostessed for me, all the attendees wrote advice on little pieces of paper for me. My aunts collected them and put them in a little book with each person's photograph from the shower next to their advice. I love this little book of wisdom from my family and friends, and I re-read it often. Doing this post each Friday reminds me of the advice my mother wrote, "Tell only the good, and forget the rest. No one needs to hear the bad." Or something similar, but that was the gist of the message. I don't have a perfect marriage or a perfect husband, but writing this post each week (even though I've only written one twice), helps me focus on the good things.

Last week, I told you all that he cleans, but I didn't tell you that he cooks, too. And not just grilling, he loves to make pasta dishes, homemade pizzas, different kinds of garlic bread, and soups, just to name a few. He's a whiz with grilling and barbecue, too.

In the last few weeks, he's been cooking a lot while I apply for jobs or take a nap or get a pedicure, and it's been great. He made a blackened chicken pasta with sun-dried tomato garlic bread that he saw Guy Fieri make on the Food Network, a seafood chicken alfredo that he dreamed up and a sour-cream/chive/garlic bread. He's discovered a love for basil, and has been mixing it into our salads--yum! Most of what he makes is just flying by the seat of his pants, tossing whatever he finds in the cupboard, fridge, or freezer together, and cooking it all up. It usually turns out to be delicious! He's not one for measuring or precision, but his kind of cooking is nice and fun for him and my tummy. It's nice to know that if I ever break both my arms, he can keep us fed without relying on Domino's, Taco Bell, McDonalds, and the Big Chicken!

So, my husband rocks for many reasons, one of which is that he cooks!

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Happy Birthday, Betsy!

My precious, precocious first niece, my baby, is turning 6 today. I can't believe how fast she's grown. She was born 2 days after I got married, while I was on my honeymoon, so our meeting was delayed a little. From the moment I saw her, I was completely in love. She's a beautiful young girl, and smart and funny. She loves being the center of attention and being a big sister.

Until she was about 2, she was scared of MSH. He's so tall and has a deep voice and picks on her. Then, something changed and she decided that she loves MSH and loves for him to "get her". He is her jungle gym and a constant source of fun and amusement for her. She always asks to talk to him on the phone when I call. Daddy told me the other day that she loves to talk so much that when she runs out of true stories, she starts making them up.

She's such a sweet girl, too. Like I did with my aunts, she always wants to see what's in my purse, to have her face made up with my make up, and to use my lotion. Of course, I always let her, just like my aunts always did. This past Christmas, I took her Christmas shopping to buy gifts for her grandparents, sister, and parents. She picked out gifts with enthusiasm and real consideration for what each person would like. She picked out a French Soap for my mother, which I explained was soap from France. She later told everyone that she bought my mom "Soap of Ants". She even made sure to get something for her cousin Richard, even though he wasn't on our list.

Less than six too short years ago, she was my belly-baby in a bonnet. She still has the same big blue eyes, but she's lost the baby rolls. Now, she's a tall, slender beautiful girl, full of creativity and spunk. I can't wait to tell her that we're moving to Georgia and that we'll be able to see her much more often.

Happy Birthday, Betsy. We love you. From Uncle MSH and Aunt Me.

Monday, July 28, 2008

The imperfect wife

I'm terribly, terribly ashamed of myself and my husband. If you've read any of my blog or if you know me in person, you know I love my husband, and I know I love my husband, and I know my husband loves me. But yesterday, yesterday, I'll never live down yesterday. You see, I forgot and he forgot that yesterday was our sixth anniversary. I feel lower than low, lower than I've ever felt, terrible really because it never even dawned on me. I talked about it 2 weeks ago, then we spent 5 days in Georgia, looking at houses, and we forgot. I'm a week off, I keep thinking that it's last week, but that's no excuse. I'm just lame.

Yesterday afternoon, we're sitting at Firestone, waiting for an oil change, when MSH's dad emails him. MSH checks his blackberry and sees that his sweet father has wished us a happy anniversary. At which point he informs me that it is our anniversary, and I have to start laughing to cover the fact that I'm crying. I mean, crying in the greeting card aisle at Wal-Mart is one thing, but crying at Firestone without a huge repair bill looking you in the face is completely unacceptable. I can't believe it.

So, to celebrate, we had lunch from McDonald's. Later I made a peach cobbler, because peaches are MSH's favorite and I'm trying to use up all the food in the house before we move. And for our big anniversary dinner--frozen lasagna, well it was frozen when we bought it, I did heat it up before we ate it.

I think my need to explain things like that is my father's influence. He would have responded to that statement with "Why would you eat frozen lasagna? Was your oven broken? Even if it was, you could have let it thaw first. You must have been really hungry." or something similar. This type of thing usually resulted in a big eye-roll from me or my brothers, followed by a "Da-addy" and further unnecessary explanation, so in order to preempt this, we learned to fully explain every detail before he had a chance to get us. Looking back, I think it was funny, but at the time, I found it exasperating. But I've always been completely in love with my Daddy, exasperation and all.

OK, I admit, that was a little bit rambling and tangential, but that's just who I am.

This photo was taken on our honeymoon. I apologize for the quality, it's a scan of a low-quality copy of a snapshot from a roll of film that was x-rayed 17 times. But, you get the idea. It's one of my favorite pictures of him. What a handsome man I have. When my Granny met him, her first observation was, "Well, he's a tall somebody, ain't he?" Yes, Granny, he is a tall somebody. And six years into this life together, I'm glad to have this "tall somebody", everyday.

Today, I don't feel quite so bad, mostly because I'm an indignant person, and MSH keeps trying to make me feel guilty by pointing out that he remembered first. To which I respond that being reminded by your father is not the same as remembering. So, because he's trying to make me feel guilty, I actually don't feel as bad because I'm all about being a rebel, sometimes.
So, Happy Anniversary, MSH! I may have forgotten on the date, but I've never forgotten how much I love you. I am thankful for every day of the last six years and look forward to at least 60 more. And, I forgive you for forgetting our anniversary, and from this point forward, I'm going to chalk it up to living in the moment and not dwelling on the past because that makes me feel better about myself.