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Amy
Sometimes I dream of moving. Living elsewhere. Like the Oregon coast. Or the forests of Idaho. Then I laugh and know I can’t– I’m southern through and through. I talk southern, I cook southern, I dress southern. I love horses and God and football. Lord, how I love football (SEC football, that is). I love beer drank on a tail gate and sweet tea sipped on a porch swing. I love cotton fields and apple festivals. I love Dolly Parton. I love magnolia trees and pearls and swimming in the lake. I love old stately homes and hound dogs and athsmatic preachers. I love old ladies who wear hats and whose pocketbooks match their shoes. I love flamingos in the front yard and rusty mailboxes and picking squash. I love taking the long way home and giving directions that include “turn right where Charlie Maples’ grandson used to live”.I love barn cats and pocketknives and flipping over rocks to hunt for crawdads. I love novels set in the south, movies set in the south, and people who come here searching for the real south. I love butterflies and bluebirds and barn swallows. I love fishing from a riverbank with worms you just dug from under the apple tree. I love blue tailed lizards and groundhogs and counting the stars. I love tomato sandwiches on white bread with Duke’s mayonnaise and a dash of salt. I love knowing summer’…
Real estate is expensive. A plot of undeveloped land, a parcel of floodplain, a mountainside you can’t even reach by road, all these will still set you back several thousand dollars. … A trailer, a camper or boat, a shack on a hill. A little more… …. A modest house in the suburbs, a small, old home on a few acres, an apartment in town, these cost even more. … A tiny home in town, to call all your own, or a McMansion in a subdivision with just a patch of grass… we’re getting up there, now. … A fancy apartment in a city, a big house on the lake. A nice getaway from the hustle and grind. A seaside cottage, a perfectly appointed five bedroom showplace of a home. Hope you’ve got a good job or a rich uncle. … All these can be destroyed, no matter if they’re made of brick or concrete or wood. Wind, fire, flooding, overall devastation. You can try to protect them, investing in fancy security systems and strong fences. Heavy gates that lock by password protection. You can try, and you might succeed, from being a victim of theft. Mother nature doesn’t recognize the precautions, but you may do some good against humans who intend to bring destruction. You protect the valuable things in your life with locks and keys and codes. … But the most expensive real estate you cannot…
I started worrying about this yesterday, while I was still on my sugar fast. I didn’t want to be caught woefully unprepared. No milk, no cheese, no butter, no cream. And so many of the things I was doing without yesterday, I would be without again today. Oh well. Part of it. I planned my day, thinking of my poor friend who has gone without dairy for many years. Sure, she can take a pill, but it’s still uncomfortable, and probably not great for her gut. So she does without, and makes do with soy substitutes. As I will be. Avocado toast for breakfast. All is well, as long as I don’t use butter to fry my egg. √ yes, that’s a square root symbol because WordPress makes everything super difficult. I’m meeting momma Robin at Graze{ http://www.grazeburgers.com/} for lunch today, and I’m kinda wigging out about what I can eat. Naturally, the cheddar on my cheeseburger is out. So I’ll be having a regular burger. And no onion rings, because the batter probably has milk. The burger I would order under normal circumstances, the Tennessee, comes with bacon jam has Gouda cheese and onion rings. I ordered the standard burger. I realized I forgot to tell him no cheese as they set my tray down in front of me. Robin suggested I scrape it off. My friend wouldn’t be able to…
Silly me. I committed to a serious undertaking yesterday, putting you folks in charge of my life for the next 39 days!!! So far I’ve agreed to not drink alcohol (On a SATURDAY!!), to follow the speed limit, to not worry, to not intake any sugar TODAY, and a whole bunch of other hard to follow ones. ***Dramatic pose: back of my hand across my forehead with my eyes closed and neck exposed*** 10:14 am. So, like I said, today is no sugar. This is a real challenge. I’ve been worried about it ever since I committed. But the sweet lady I’m fasting it for is so worth it. She’s an angel, I’m telling you. She’s been so helpful and sweet to me and I just pray that the Lord blesses her threefold. She has special prayers concerning her family, which I will not divulge, but I pray for God’s wisdom to be cast upon her sister. And I pray for guidance for her niece, who is facing an uphill battle. I pray that the parties involved can discern right from wrong and that they open their minds to understand and follow Your will. I pray for peace for my dear friend, and knowledge that she lays firmly in Your supportive hands, Lord. I pray for encouraging and exacting words to roll from her tongue and power to be steadfast in her decisions. Please clothe…
For several years now, I have observed Lent by giving up Facebook. No doubt it is my #1 vice. It is a major timewaster. Sure, I keep up with my friends through it, but for the most part it’s just people I vaguely know sharing memes. Not that they aren’t funny, not that they don’t make me smile. But surely I could find something to make me smile elsewhere that didn’t entail me mindlessly scrolling for ten minutes every hour. Surely a friend could make me laugh through a text, phone call, or visit. Surely I can live without Facebook for the next forty days. After a few years of taking this break, it was no longer something I was sacrificing to show my faith. It was something I looked forward to. I wasn’t growing in my relationship with Christ, it was a social media vacation. I didn’t use the time to flip through my Bible, I used the time to read for pleasure. Or shop online. Or a million other things. So this year, I’m doing things a little different. This year I’m making it a real challenge. I’m giving up several things, and I’m incorporating my gift into blessing forty people. You don’t have to be Catholic to follow Lent. You don’t even have to be a Christian. It might lead you to a…
“Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.” Well, guess what? It’s official. I have risked my life for books. I didn’t aim to, just for clarification. The news will scare you to death if you watch it. That’s why I don’t watch it. They’re always Chicken Little when it comes to weather. Every windy day is impending tornadoes, every snowflake is a blizzard, and every raindrop is a flood. And if the sun is shining, the pollen count is lethal and the UV rays are gamma lasers. Impending disasters at every turn. So I just do my own thing. I have a weather porch. It’s like a weather rock. Never heard of it, you say? Well, here’s how it works: if my porch is wet, it’s raining. If the chairs are blown over, it’s windy (if the chairs are out in the yard, it’s really extra windy). If the concrete is hot, it’s a hot day. If it’s slick, it’s icy. You get the idea. I have 100% accuracy, so you’re welcome to text for current weather. I’m more trustworthy than doppler, I’ll tell ya that. Here’s a link to a weather rope on Amazon. Same concept. https://amzn.to/2SDdZLw So when I stepped outside and the porch was…
Nothing was going as planned. If you know me, you’re probably surprised to learn I even HAVE a plan. I admit, my plan normally never stretches further than what I will be consuming for my three meals that day. But I sometimes will plan vacations months in advance, especially if it’s a new destination. I don’t want to miss anything in the event I can never return, so I like to have all my high points mapped and time allocated to enjoy them. I have enough to plan for in the course of a month between board meetings and bills, I don’t like to have to commit to much in between. I plan to go to bed between 10-11. I plan to get up by 6:30. I plan to stay at work until 4. You know. Plans. Plus all the plans I have for cleaning, writing, reading, watching TV, exercising. When you think about it, you’ve got your whole life planned out in this manner. If you’re married, you plan to see it through, growing old on a porch swing, watching your grandchildren frolic in the evening twilight, catching lightning bugs. Oh wait. I mean tapping on their tablet in front of your 60″ HD Smart TV. My plans rarely work out. I tend to over schedule myself and then panic halfway through my day when I’ve only accomplished the one thing. Nothing…
Wallyworld was closed when Chevy Chase finally managed to arrive, and so was the closest bar-be-cue joint by the time I got there. I breathed in slowly through my nose, like I was taught to do in yoga. It wasn’t the end of the world, this was a first world problem, but just what I wouldn’t do for some pulled pork and slaw. My one and only coworker had grated on my nerves all day, badmouthing our President and leaders, poking his nose in ALL of my business, pretending he knew me better than I knew myself. It’s a dang wonder I hadn’t thrown my stapler at him. On top of that, I had an appointment with my accountant after the grueling day at work. I despise doing adult things like that. If I never have to see another lawyer, doctor, or banker, that would be just fine by me. As a matter of fact, I decided on the spot, if I ever hit the lottery, they’d be the first people I’d do away with. As quick as I could get me a financial adviser nailed down (Monte B, I’m looking at you), the next person I’d hire would be someone to manage my other business. I would never have to schedule another appointment or ask questions about my money. I could literally just drift along on the high seas from the…
Let me begin by saying I loathe Valentine’s Day. Read that carefully. Loathe. NOT love. It’s pure hokum, all these guys put under pressure to get a ooey gooey card, roses (double gag), and an expensive, romantic dinner out. It’s utterly ridiculous. And I don’t play. Never have. Don’t participate because it’s required of you. Make your person feel special on a regular day because you want to. Now that that’s out of the way. My day began at the office, like any other Thursday. I was in full Valentine’s Day attire, because if you wear black people accuse you of being bitter and hateful. Even if it is true, I don’t need to hear it. Plus, I like pink and glitter. And that’s not always acceptable on a Thursday. But on Valentine’s Day it is! So I donned my heart print Lularoes, XOXO Y’all shirt, red shoes, and off I went. I also had a pink light up flower for my hair, but even I will concede that’s a bit much for the morning hours. Baker the Baker popped in with some delicious morsels right off the bat, flitting through like Cupid. It wasn’t long before my momma showed up, bearing gifts. I had already warned her I wasn’t in the mood for sweets. I’ve been…
