Has anyone seen my sunglasses?

THE FUTURE'S SO BRIGHT...I GOTTA WEAR SHADES.

Birds of a Feather

I really like birds. Not in the crazy bird watching lady kind of way, although I'd be fine with that. Our back yard is like a bird sanctuary. There's a few old trees around the house full of ivy and kudzu, a perfect place for birds. I just enjoy starting the day with the windows up listening to them go crazy. Sometimes, I even make up my own lyrics and chants to go along with their tunes. Yes, I do that.

Here's their favorite tree, there's no telling how many birds live in HERE!

Another favorite spot, we usually find 2 or 3 nests in here.

These are from one morning in the backyard when a Robin let me work a little photo shoot...



This is a nest in the corner of our screen porch (currently without screen). This little nest has been used at least 5 or 6 times in the last couple of years. We even get to see the flying practices! Papa bird perches on a branch next to the porch keeping an eye out for danger, while Mama bird chirps in encouragement while the little ones take the plunge!
You can see how well crafted this has become.

It's not just the real thing I enjoy though. I often find myself drawn to bird art. I really like old vintage sketches as well as some fun folk interpretations. I thought I'd share a few examples below:

Patterned Birds

Vintage Bird Collage

Embroidered Bird

I love this! All of her work is so intriguing to me.
Camilla Engman

How amazing is this chandelier! This one is too expensive, but I think it would be so much fun to create your own.
Bird Chandelier

And last but not least, the most perfect mobile! I can't find the link for where I originally saw this, but I pretty much have the pattern for those cute little fabric birds and plan on making one to one day go in our nursery :)


So what's with the bird on the brain you ask? It all started with a Chinese Proverb I stumbled upon. Well actually it started with a conversation that Steven and I frequently have to re-visit.

I am a constant flowing river of emotions. I don't think Steven ever ceases to be amazed at my ability to flow from happy, sad, excited, anxious, peaceful, content, restless, ill to joyful and then back again. And that's all in one day :) But see, I think it's perfectly beautiful and natural to allow yourself to feel and experience and acknowledge everything that flows through you. Be it the Vally or the Mountain top.

Steven however, is a constant, sturdy, optimistic, ROCK. He believes you choose your emotion and control everything with your attitude. Which I agree with to some extent. But to him if you just don't acknowledge it, then it doesn't exist.

The conflict comes when Steven views my emotional current as something that needs to be fixed and will change with time. (sorry, no chance) And then I get my feelings hurt because I often interpret his rockness as not caring enough to be willing to just feel something. Truth is, sometimes when I'm having a melancholy day, I don't want to just "change my attitude" I want to have a melancholy day! And I feel like part of being intimate with someone is when you can strip all protective walls and just feel what you feel. Which maybe that doesn't make sense! Why do we maintain our "keep it together" attitude for the rest of world and then the people we love get the good, BAD, and the UGLY?? Anyways...

So we usually remember the whole Mars and Venus thing, kiss and make-up, and move on.

All that in reference to the Chinese Proverb about birds that I found. Connection, you ask? It's sort of a promise I made to myself, I compromise of sorts.

“You cannot prevent the birds of sadness from passing over your head, but you can prevent their making a nest in your hair”

I am a creature of emotion and most days I enjoy all that it entails. But I do promise that the moments and days when the less desirable emotions "pass over head" I will do my best to keep them moving along quickly to make room for my favorite ones: joy, peace, contentment, and love.

A book for the heart...

So last week I went and had lunch at a little sandwich shop downtown where I could eat outside. I had just finished the book I had been reading and so I brought along a book my brother gave me for my birthday called The Ragamuffin Gospel, by Brennan Manning. I had picked it up several times to start reading but for some reason I kept deciding on something else. Well it was time to dive in. Before chapter 1 there was a section called "A Word Before." As I'm reading this short 2 page introduction, it was as if all of Broad Street disappeared and I was completely alone sitting at my little cafe table with tears streaming down my face, all while smiling! The Lord will find away to speak however He can and He spoke.

Below are the words that I had been needing to hear:

The Ragamuffin Gospel was written with a specific reading audience in mind.
This book in not for the super spiritual.
It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne, and not Jesus, their hero.
It is not for academics who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis.
It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion.
It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion.
It is not for Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation.
It is not for the fearless and tearless.
It is not for red-hot zealots who boast with the rich young ruler of the Gospels, "All these commandments I have kept from my youth."
It is not for the complacent who hoist over their shoulders a tote bag of honors, diplomas, and good works, actually believing they have it made.
It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus.
If anyone is still reading along, The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out.
It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other.
It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don't have it all together and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.
It is for inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker.
It is for poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents.
It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay.
It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God.
It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags.
The Ragamuffin Gospel is a book I wrote for myself and anyone who has grown weary and discouraged along the Way.
~Brennan Mannin

I haven't finished the book yet, and I'm sure I will be posting more as I do. But I was so encouraged by just the opening that I wanted to go ahead and share.

A hint of Fall...in August?

Would we soak up and enjoy every second of our weekends if they were more than just the precious two days? For me that answer is most definitely yes! But two days is all I get.

This past weekend was another fabulous break. This time it got a surprising start with a doozie of a storm Friday night (which I love!) Meaning no power for several hours, a house full of candles, and a midnight walk with our headlamps to check out the damage and breathe in the cool wet air brought in with the storm.

Saturday morning Steven and I both slept in. For me that means 8:30am, for Steven that means noon... I love my mornings though. The quiet, the morning light, the calm. Especially this morning, I was very pleasantly surprised to walk out to cool crisp fall-ish morning air. Well, I've mentioned in a previous post how Shelby is eerily like her father, so she's not much of a morning gal herself! But Toccoa comes and snuggles on my pillow with me the second she sees movement, and Callie sits out on the deck with me while I drink my coffee. Here's how i got to start my Saturday!

Then around 2, my parents came up for a visit and to attend the CRBI River Revelry, an annual fundraiser to celebrate and protect our rivers. I was so excited to spend time with them and to show off our constantly redecorated house. That's probably one of the things I hate most about not living near my family, they don't get to see my newly acquired wifey nesting skills. Anyways, the event was incredible. An outdoor concert right on the river with plenty of BBQ, and made even more magical by the cool, breezy weather. Mama won me an 8 week Natural Birthing Class in the silent auction. I would have loved to see her claim the prize! Apparently they found it quite funny that she was the mother-in-law who bid on it for her daughter who is NOT pregnant! No worries though, there's no expiration date ;) Mama also accidentally bid $800 on a kayak during the live auction when she waved across the crowd when she saw where we were sitting! Luckily, it sold for $900. I think she was then told to be still and sit on her hands. Then again, it's all for the rivers right?! How great is it to have parents you can drink, dance, and have a good time with? :)

And it went on into the night...


I spent my Sunday morning being lazy and just enjoying the time I had to sit and visit with my parents, once again outside on a rare August morning humidity free! Then Steven decided to join us, that's right...at noon :) That afternoon, after my parent's send off, Steven and I took the girls out to our favorite field to let them run off some energy.


And then they got thirsty...



And I've never seen a dragonfly like this...


We actually thought we lost Toccoa for awhile! Sometimes she chases after Callie, who has the endurance of an African Gazelle, and we were afraid Toccoa hadn't been able to keep up and was lost somewhere in the woods. After 40 minutes of scouring the land, Steven noticed Shelby and Callie kept looking towards the car. Yep, Toccoa was past out under the car, tongue rolled out, apparently oblivious to the 14,733 times we had called her name.

She's easy to forgive though :)

My new dragonfly...

Dragonfly, a type of insect belonging to the order Odonata, the suborder Epiprocta or, in the strict sense, the infraorder Anisoptera. But I don’t really care about that!

Have you ever just watched a dragonfly? Lying on the front of our boat, literally inches above the water, I can watch them at eye level. I never see them flap their wings; they just skim and glide on top of the water. Their ability to hover perfectly still and then dart off in every which direction before you’ve even blinked is fascinating. They come just close enough to catch my attention and then they’re off doing their dance for me. It’s pretty clear to me as to why they represent a wild and free spirit.

Here's one of my favorite pieces hanging up in our sun room...

Dragonflies are born under water and gradually surface as they mature until they are above the water, wings outstretched where they are now free to swirl, hover, dart and glide, yet always staying close to the deep waters it came from. For this reason, in some cultures the dragonfly spirit encourages you to make a conscious effort to express your hopes, dreams, needs and wishes. The dragonfly is part of the water world, which represents the subconscious thoughts. It's also part of the air and wind world, which represents change.

Essentially, the dragonfly represents that life is too short to not take notice when our deeper thoughts rise to the surface. It is our responsibility to pay attention to this subconscious because what we think is directly related to what we see “on the surface” of our lives. They symbolize pushing past self-created illusions that limit personal growth, so you can discover who you actually are and let that light shine; a symbol of the sense of self that comes with maturity. Which is what I am constantly striving to achieve, to take my passionate and emotional youth and find mental clarity and control. It’s not about losing that spirit, but it’s finding that balance.

The more I read about what the dragonfly represents in so many different cultures, I kept coming upon a common thread that seemed to be mentioned every time, that the dragonfly means hope, change and love. Who doesn't want to cling to that?

And to think, at first I was drawn to them simply because they are beautiful.

Come Thou Fount...

Steven is out of town until Tuesday.

For some reason last night, I missed him more then I think I ever have during any span of separation since our relationship together. Of course I always miss him when we are not together. But being an introvert, I require time alone and usually enjoy it. I’m left to my own accord to daydream, read, watch my favorite movies and be absorbed in the company of the characters and stories that constantly play through my head. However last night, I could not shake such an intense feeling of loneliness. I hate those moments, when you can’t even distract yourself with works of fiction because of your own self-analyzing, soul searching nag. Of course, I do believe those moments are quite necessary for personal growth. But as mentioned above, it can feel quite lonely.

I woke up this morning not feeling any better and not able to place exactly why I was feeling this way. But I made a pot of coffee and sat in a quite house not being able to clear my head to read or even watch a movie. So I did what I’ve always done to quiet my thoughts and calm me done. I went to the piano. Or actually a key board, that Steven gave me during our first Christmas together because of how much I talked about missing my piano. I can not quite play as well as I once did, but I pull out my favorite music book and just thumb through playing one song after another, the Hymnal.

I’ve always loved hymns. I love the simplicity of the lyrics and the tunes and I love the history behind them, the story they tell. I will also hold them dear for always, because I cannot sing or play a hymn without thinking of my grandmother, Ida Lou Dunagan. There was not one hymn she could not sing from memory and she would take a simple line of music notes and sit down at the piano and use all 88 keys to turn it into a master piece. And due in part to her, during different struggles and challenges and even the joyous moments in my life, it was always a verse to a hymn that would pop in my head. And I hope to continue to play and sing these hymns as to one day teach them to my children.

My grandmother, Ida Lou

But it was this morning, while singing one of my favorite hymns that as the words came out of my mouth I began to weep, the quiet peaceful kind of weeping. I stopped and just sat there with the words that obviously had struck a chord. It was “Come Thy Fount of Every Blessing,” the third verse.

“Oh, to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be! Let they goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love; Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.”

In the midst of such a happy time in my life; a union with a loving, good-hearted man, my sister’s growing family, my brother becoming a husband, my parent’s enjoyment of reaping the awards of a faithful, loving marriage. Even with all the blessings around me, how is it that my heart can still wander from the One who has given me everything? But it does, and it has. When I’m not with my family, when Steven is not holding me, my foundation has to be my faith in the unseen. But I continue to be thankful that the Lord has and always will forgive me for my wandering heart and always lets me run back to Him.

So here’s to waiting for the man I love to return, and to the hope and prayer that I will love him even more by keeping my heart bonded to the One who loves me and created me.

Two things...

Two things I’ve observed, pondered and confirmed this weekend. Tan legs really do look better. And my husband seems to know what I need before I do.

My girlfriends and I used to say “tan fat is skinny fat.” You know what I’m talking about. You just somehow seem to feel long and lean when you’ve got a little color on you. It means you’ve been outside, active, alive! Now I never really jumped on the bandwagon of, let’s see how dark it’s humanly possible for me to get. I like to stay in my natural range. Which thanks to a little Native American blood on my Mama’s side, it’s quite easy for me to become a walking Coppertone commercial. But after a job and a hobby that kept me under the sun for more than 200 days out of the year, sunscreen was a necessity not a suggestion. But after beach trips and weekends on the lake, even SPF 50 can’t keep away the tell-tale tan lines. So all that to say, as I got up and slipped on a tank top and shorts this morning I actually noticed my legs. A feature that has never been a favorite of mine, becomes a little more tolerable in the summer :)

As for number 2…

I’ve noticed that in my older days (I’ll be over a quarter of a century this August!), I’m a lot less spontaneous then I thought I once was. Maybe I’ve never been spontaneous. But simply that my life as a traveling college student seemed to be a string of random events, when in actuality I did everything I had dreamed and planned I would do. Therefore, it doesn’t really count as being spontaneous. And now that I’ve (sigh) joined the world of Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 routine, it feels like my days of backpacking weeks at a time, driving across the country and deciding to “swing” by on a whim and visit my friends in Montana, are farther and farther behind me. It’s very easy for me to slip in to comfort, schedule and routine, to come home in the evenings and be done. PJ’s on, legs propped up, glass of wine poured. But Steven will come in, leashes in hand and the dogs dancing around him ready for a walk and I’ll sigh and say I’m too tired and I had a tough workout on my lunch break and I’m just dead on my feet. He doesn’t push me, doesn’t beg, just gives me a kiss and says they’ll be back and heads out. Usually he barely makes it to the garage before I don’t want to be left out and I throw on some shoes, run down to meet him and take a leash and we go. And wouldn’t you know, an unpleasant day that I had decided to accept is long forgotten. We enjoy a twilight walk with no distractions. Talking about our dreams for the future or nothing at all, laughing at our dogs and stretching our legs. Even though deciding to take an evening walk seems minor, it can shift everything inside me to something more pleasant and peaceful.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday. After a long, rough week at work and a Friday night of a little too much wine and he wants to take the bikes out. No baby, I just don’t feel like it. No guilt from him, no pestering, he just kisses me on the head and says he’ll only be gone for a bit. Again, 2.7 seconds and I jump up, run to my room, throw on some shoes and race to meet him outside. And wouldn’t you know, it’ll be my favorite part of the day and I’ll be so thankful I didn’t lie around wasting my few precious days of free time (now I am by no means implying that lying around does not serve its purpose and have it’s appropriate time!) But I remember how much I love being active and outside. I feel alive and clear, I live for it. But funny, that my husband ends up taking me back in that direction. I think he sees what it does inside of me, what it does for my soul. He reminds me what makes me happy. Just another reason why I love him so and a reminder of how beautiful marriage is meant to be.

Here's some pictures from our weekend. Friday night we took the Jeep out and went for a ride and I took some pictures of downtown Rome at twilight. Saturday we took the boat out on the lake and then took an evening bike ride, and today we went out on the River. Oh how I wish Monday would never come...