A little over two years ago, I had a week that nearly drove me to my knees.  I lost a dear, dear, dear friend of mine to the arms of Death while we were in a argument.  My marriage was annulled. The house I was going to close on had to be let go to the way side.  And I lost my job.  I had no place to live because I’d given notice to my landlord and she was taking the house for herself.  On the tail of all that – I got struck with Bell’s Palsy.

I’m not quite sure how many people laugh when they get struck with Bell’s Palsy. I remember driving myself to the emergency room – to the tune of my best friend telling me I was insane and should wait for her to get there to take me – and, all the way there saying that if it wasn’t a stroke, I could deal with anything else.  I’d seen what a stroke had done to my great-grandfather and to my cousin Bill.  I wanted none of it.

My mantra all the way there was “if it’s not a stroke, it’s a blessing”.  So, when the doc told me that it was Bell’s Palsy and it may or may not clear up, I laughed in relief.  I had worked with someone who had Bell’s Palsy that never cleared up and I knew what the prognosis was.  It wasn’t that I was just ignorant – it was that I really didn’t care if I was partially paralyzed for life.  As I told Debbie, “It’s the perfect character reference.”

For months following that, every time I’d forget about my palsy and would dump food or drink down my chest, I’d laugh.  I truly found it amusing.  Maybe I’m a little loose in the screws in my attic.  Who knows?  But, the palsy hit, just like everything else, at the perfect time.  My parents were in Austin passing through on a trip through Texas for their anniversary.  They were here for me when my life was falling apart for the second time.  They and Debbie kept me sane and helped me get my stuff shoved into a storage unit – weeding out about half of what I owned in the process.  Then, mom and dad bundled me up and hauled me back home to Alabama.

I stayed in Alabama with my parents for a couple of months, recuperating from the palsy.  I mostly recovered and the little bit of residual effect is not something anyone would notice except me.  Some numbness in the face and an occasional pull on that side of my face when I get too stressed.

I looked around for tech jobs in the area, hoping to find something that would keep me close to home.  I was tired, fed up with relationships, and just wanted to curl up in the lap of my family (ie.  Grady).  Yeah – not really a whole lot of tech jobs around that area.  Finally, I was down to my last few dollars and knew I had to either get a low paying job in the area or try elsewhere.  So, I took a stab in the dark and asked Q in California to take me on.  Serendipitously, my old boss (from Dell and QLogic) was out in California with Q at the time and she told them they’d be nuts to not bring me on.  So, refusing to pay relocation, they offered me a job.  I put what I could in my car and headed to California…muttering all the way.  I hate that state with a passion…even more now that I’ve lived there.

I arrived in California to the best room mate I’ve ever had.  I had hooked up with him on a site called roommates.com and wasn’t at all sure what I was going to find.  It turns out I found one of the most sweethearted, kindest, most gentle souls on the planet. You couldn’t ask for a better room mate.  I poked around and found some places to dance and met up with The Honky Tonk Kings in San Juan Capistrano.  Their bass player at the time (Grant) saved me from having to get really mean with a little guy who just could not understand the word “No”.  The HTKs told me they were playing the following week down south a ways and said I should go catch their show.  So – I hauled myself the hour and a half one way and did.  Little did I know that that would bring me to a place where I would meet my future husband.

A few months later, Mike shows up at The Renegade in El Cajon, California. He was working on a wooden boat for his friend and so was up from Mexico where he had been happily ensconced for the last year.  All I knew was there was this guy blocking my way and dancing a bit by himself with his beer bottle – oh, and he had on a white shirt, wranglers and a black hat.  He was facing away from me and I walked up and told him, “You know, that works better with a partner.”  The next thing I knew, we were on the dance floor – and, we didn’t miss a step.  For those who don’t dance partners dancing, when you hook up with a new dance partner, there’s always a moment or two of adjustment and inevitably someone bumps/stomps on someone else’s foot.  Didn’t happen.  I recall Mike’s eyes lighting up like the Fourth of July as he leaned forward and told me I was a Ferrari.  It made me laugh.  Our fates were sealed – though neither of us were aware of it at the time.  Not one iota of interest was to be had by either of us in forming a relationship – until the relationship beat us over the heads. Life is good like that – keeps you on your toes.

Seven months later, Mike asked me to marry him.  Six months later, we were married.  Nine months after that, we were leaving California.  Well, I was, anyway.  Mike had gone to Guatemala to do some volunteer work.  While he was gone, I had gotten a call from a company in Georgia called Technisource.  They were staffing for a company called TSYS.  While the pay would have been significantly less, the benefits of being closer ot my family and able to be there for them – and vice versa – made it a very attractive offer.  They also offered relocation – which meant I could finally get my stuff from Austin.  Yes, my stuff had been sitting in Austin storage for two years.  After some interesting back and forth, a relocation amount was settled on and the notices were given.

The day to leave California arrived.  I checked my bank account – no money for relocation.  I called.  Oh, yeah…”The money will be in your account sometime in the next 48 hours.”  This made me a very unhappy camper.  Had my father not flown out to help me move, I’d have been without a home and without a truck…me and my stuff on the side of the road.  What an attractive idea.  However, my father was there, once again coming to the rescue.  The truck was acquired along with the car hauler (both the truck and the car hauler had been upgraded at  no cost to us because they were out of what I’d reserved).  Off we went, heading cross country to Georgia.

When we hit Phoenix, we had dinner with my Great Uncle Ernest and his wife, Lynda.  We went to this place called the Rustler’s Rooste.  Great food – the band, however, was sub-par at best. When Uncle Ernie walked up, there was no doubting he was my Pa’s little brother.  He looked so much like Pa that it startled me for a moment.

He has the Freeman sense of humor and was an absolute hoot to visit with.  I wish we could have stayed longer; but, we had a deadline to meet to get to Columbus, GA.  I was to start my job on the 7th of July.  That didn’t give much time to get there and get settled.

I’m so happy they made the drive to see us and that we were able to visit.  I love my family, even if I don’t see them regularly.  They are very important to me.  And, this was just a wonderful blessing.  Little did I know that my blessings would continue.

The trip was uneventful and comfortable.  The truck we’d rented was a joy to drive – even being a 26′ behemoth. About the second construction zone I was feeling pretty confident about where I was on the road.  By the fourth, I had it down cold. The company was great (my dad) and the weather wasn’t bad.  We still hadn’t gotten the money for the relocation so dad continued to rack up the fees.  I continued to be a tad bothered at how haphazard things were given the fact that it was my life people were messing with.  But, the money would get there eventually and all would be good – afterall, my dad was playing superhero again.  Yes, I’m a daddy’s girl – and, for good reason.

We rolled into Austin on the 31st.  I pulled the truck up outside of Debbie’s and we piled out (minus some of my fish that got par boiled along the way – a story for another time) and visited for a while.  I called up a friend of mine who had said he wanted to get dinner while I was in town and we made plans to meet up at the Outback off of Research Blvd. the following night.  We settled in, cooled off, and face planted into bed.

The following morning, I dug out my laptop and checked my email.  Needing to see how my honey was doing and let him know how the trip was going, I was anxious to get online.  The day was intended to be a fairly lazy day.  Dad was going to go up and visit his friend, Norman, and Debbie and I were just going to hang out and have a ‘girls’ day’.  The following day, we intended to load the truck up in the morning and continue to head on our merry way to Columbus, GA.

It’s a good thing that intentions are not something that are immutable. Life, I have found, loves to throw curveballs.  Plan and get your ducks in a row – and always, always, be ready to throw it all out the window when Life comes knocking.  Gotta know how to roll with it – ride the waves…Life’s good at keeping you on your toes and very aware that you are not the one in charge.

So – back to checking my email.  There was a message from Mike waiting for me.  It made my day to be able to talk to him for a while.  Then, going through my ridiculous amount of trash email, I notice a name from my past.  Stephanie had contacted me.  I figured it’d be a “hey! I heard you were passing through Austin.  Hope all goes well with the new job” kind of thing.  I was seriously mistaken.

Yes, she had heard I had left Q.  She had heard that I was moving to Georgia.  She did wish me well if I chose to continue to work for that company.  However, she had positions open here in Austin – and, wouldn’t I rather live here?  I stared at the screen for a couple of moments.  Let out a stunned breath and then whooped loud enough that five, little dogs jumped and Dad and Debbie asked what in the world was going on.  I couldn’t respond fast enough.  I told Stephanie I was in town for the day and she had 24 hours to give me the details. After some back and forth it was determined that if I stayed here I’d make significantly more than in Georgia.  The position would be one I’d just be stupid not to take.  The only catch – I had to go through the formalities before I’d get my official offer letter.  So – I could continue on to the ‘guarantee’ in Columbus – or, I could take a leap of faith, put my trust in someone who I’ve worked with and built a solid working relationship, and stay in Austin for the job here.

Well, maybe I’m a little insane.  Maybe my ability to trust hasn’t been as damaged by my past as I thought.  I took the leap of faith.  I was no longer heading to Columbus. Instead, I had come home.  Instead of loading the truck the next day, we planned to unload it into the storage unit.  Debbie graciously extended the offer of a place to stay with her while I looked for a home, and the wheels started rolling in a completely unexpected and different direction.  I’ve never seen someone look so pole axed as when I told Frank that night at dinner.

It made me giggle.  We had so much fun hanging out and talking.  Dad regaled us with stories as he is wont to do.  Debbie was a great sport about her plans and schedule being totally trashed.  And, it was just a great time all around.  It felt like a huge celebration – even with only the four of us there.

Dad had gone on up to see his friend; but, Debbie and I had spent the day looking at houses to rent/buy and discussing how we would handle things until I got my first paycheck/was able to move out.  How many people can say they have a friend that will upend their lives for them on the spur of the moment like that?  And, on a leap of faith?  I am truly beyond blessed in my life.

Life never quite goes like we intend it to go.  Plans never quite follow through exactly as expected.  It’s a great dance, this thing we call life.  And, so long as you learn how to be a good dance partner – and, realize that Life is always the one in the lead – you’ll never have more fun than when you let go, let loose and learn to follow.

Life is the dance
Love is the song
Laughter is the melody

I hope you dance.

Considering many who have met him and heard the tales have requested the same thing, I was very happy to see him take the suggestion of a professional writer to heart. Here’s hoping he gets the book completed. I believe it will be a compelling read. As you can see in the article, there is much to be told. I’m so glad these things are being forced into the light of day and that my husband was one of the few that, despite the risks to themselves, stood up for those who desperately needed it.

The article in the New Yorker paper magazine/online copy: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/06/06/110606fa_fact_stillman
The New Yorker blog post: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2011/06/stillman-whistleblower.html

It’s a beautiful morning. The sun is shining bright and there is nary a cloud to be seen. The birds are singing and your heart is heavy. Today is the day that your only child is to be buried. She was a brilliant young woman in the prime of her life. She went to work every day and was in the church every moment that the doors were open. She was highly active in her neighborhood and all the people at the local shelter knew and loved her and her open, loving heart. Her work was making great advances in genetically modifying grains and other foods to grow in harsh climates and could ultimately bring about relief to starving nations. She was killed on her way home in a freak accident and now she is gone. Just, gone. You wonder how you will make it through the day without falling apart. Your heart hurts and you have learned there truly is a difference between crying and wailing. Slowly, you make it to the cemetery, following that great black beast that holds your child in its belly. As you round the corner that takes you to the road that enters the cemetery there are people lining the street. Signs waving and people chanting and shouting. Signs speaking with unbearable hate against your loving daughter. Signs saying how wonderful it is that she is dead. Signs and people shouting out how despised your beloved daughter is for daring to try to make one of God’s creations different from how He planned it. How your daughter is in hell and reviled by God. And, your beautiful, loving, wonderful child is ripped from you – torn from you – a second time. Even this, your moment to let go, your moment to mourn, is stripped from you – because of hatred and people so wrapped up in their own rights that they cannot see that this is not the time and most certainly not the place.

I have spoken about the fact that there is a time and a place for preaching and for keeping quiet. I fully support the rights of people to speak out about what they believe. That is an inherent right of every person. However, along with ‘your’ right to speak out – joined to the hip and just as important, if not more important – is choosing the time and the place and the how. The Bible is very clear on the fact that timing is important, so much so that even an entire chapter is used to talk about everything being in its season.

Ecclesiates 3:1,4 and 7
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,

Beyond that, it is not our place to judge the place a person’s soul will go. We are not God. We are not Jesus. As Christians, knowing what is and is not the will of God is brought about by studying the word of God. Nowhere – absolutely nowhere – does the Bible say, “Go ye forth and judge”.

Jesus himself ate with the tax collectors and sinners.

Matthew 9:10 & 11
11 When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and ‘sinners’?”
12 On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 13But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’a For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

He called people on their own sins, rather than allowing them to rain down condemnation on the sin of another.

John 8:4,5 & 7
4 they say unto him, Teacher, this woman hath been taken in adultery, in the very act.
5 Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such: what then sayest thou of her?
7 But when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

More than once he made it clear that we must look to our own sins and our own wrongs.

Matthew 7:1-6
1 Judge not, that ye be not judged.
2 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured unto you.
3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me cast out the mote out of thine eye; and lo, the beam is in thine own eye?
5 Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.
6 Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast your pearls before the swine, lest haply they trample them under their feet, and turn and rend you.

God has never had a problem handling those he has issues with on his own.

Genesis 6:11-13
11 And the earth was corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with violence.
12 And God saw the earth, and, behold, it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted their way upon the earth.
13 And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth.

Genesis 19:12 & 13
12 And the men said unto Lot, Hast thou here any besides? son-in-law, and thy sons, and thy daughters, and whomsoever thou hast in the city, bring them out of the place:
13 for we will destroy this place, because the cry of them is waxed great before Jehovah: and Jehovah hath sent us to destroy it.

And, even when Christ himself was spreading the news of the will and word of God – nowhere does he rip the dead from the hands of their beloved. Unless it is to hand them back alive. Instead, any time he comes across a funeral he meets them with love, compassion and respect.

Luke 7:12-13
12 Now when he drew near to the gate of the city, behold, there was carried out one that was dead, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her.
13 And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.

Note that he does not ask the mother about her son. He does not question the people about the life her son led. He does not require anything, simply with love and compassion tells her to weep not. Love and compassion – two very powerful tools in the Christian’s arsenal.

Luke 8:51-56
51 And when he came to the house, he suffered not any man to enter in with him, save Peter, and John, and James, and the father of the maiden and her mother.
52 And all were weeping, and bewailing her: but he said, Weep not; for she is not dead, but sleepeth.
53 And they laughed him to scorn, knowing that she was dead.
54 But he, taking her by the hand, called, saying, Maiden, arise.
55 And her spirit returned, and she rose up immediately: and he commanded that something be given her to eat.
56 And her parents were amazed: but he charged them to tell no man what had been done.

I’m sure there is no reason to bring in the quote on Lazarus, most who are even not Christians know that name. So..every funeral that Christ attended – He attended with love and compassion. How easy it would have been to find the funeral of a sinner and condemn and revile him. Yet, not once in the Bible does such a story take place.

The art of being a Christian is – for those who are true Christians and not just hypocrites and modern day Pharisees and Sadducees – is to be Christ-like. To do all in your power to live a life in line with the will of God and follow the example of the only begotten son. The one whose spirit is supposed to imbue and light our path so that we can be fully invested as the beloved, adopted child of God.

Where, then, I ask is any of this evident in the behavior of the congregation of Westboro Baptist Church?

Truly, I have never been more ashamed to have something associated with the name of Christ. This behavior – it brings so much shame on the House of the Lord. I fear that the response they would be greeted much as the moneychangers were greeted.

Matthew 21:12 & 13
12 And Jesus entered into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of he money-changers, and the seats of them that sold the doves;
13 and he saith unto them, It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer: but ye make it a den of robbers.

Shame on each and everyone who not only participated, but supports such actions as those taken by the Westboro Church. Their signs are metaphorical stones. Each sign, each word of hate a stone on the hearts and souls of the family mourning their dead. So, not only are they stoning – but, they are not even taking care enough to stone the one who was “caught in the act” (see the John 8 quote above). Instead, they would stone the family and loved ones of the person who committed the act. So I say to them, and to each and every one of you who feels this behavior justified…and this timing justified…Look you to your own life.

Who of you has not sinned? Who of you stands pure of stain before the Lord? Who of you can say with truth this day that you are blameless? Think it is you? Let us examine that, shall we? I believe a singular verse pretty much covers that:

1 John 1:8
If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.

Spread the word and honour the Lord. But – do it in a way that does honour the Lord. Do it in a way that does not bring such shame upon his House. This…I believe with all my heart that if Jesus were to step onto the earth today and see such behavior, he would weep. Shame upon each of you, for you shame the house that you should be honouring.

Red Yeast Rice: A food additive and supplement

Something that has been used as a dietary supplement in China for a millennium¹ (red yeast rice) – and has consistently proven it’s efficacy and safety¹ – is not allowed to be sold undiluted in the US due to the FDA. Red Yeast Rice reduces bad cholesterol by up to 23% without any other dietary changes²…yet, the FDA has made it illegal for it to be sold in the US as a supplement or food additive (it’s used as the colourant in Peking duck and other Chinese dishes) unless all but trace amounts of the cholesterol lowering substances are removed¹.

Their reasoning is that it could contraindicate with the cholesterol lowering medications people are already taking. Let’s think about this for a moment. There are already plenty of drugs out there that cannot be taken with certain foods; however, you do not see grapefruit or grapefruit juice³ being removed from the US market. If contraindication were a valid concern (and, one they really wanted to stand on) they would have to remove any substance in the US market that could potentially contraindicate any medication possibly prescribed in the US. This has not, as of this date, happened. Thus, this supposed concern is nullified.

What about the second reason the FDA banned the supplement if it had the normal levels of cholesterol reducing substances? The second reason provided is just…it dismays me. The FDA claims that the supplement is a new, unapproved drug¹. Those of us who have been pursuing more homeopathic forms of health care have seen this happening with so many supplements and herbs^4,5 that is dismays and frustrates us.

For those of you who immediately go searching for “red yeast rice” on your favorite search engine: Yes, you will get a ton of hits that say they are “red yeast rice” supplements and are sold at places like GNC, CVS, Walgreens, etc. However, please note what was said in this post was not that red yeast rice is not sold as a supplement in the US. What was stated – and, the most important thing to note – is that red yeast rice containing more than trace amounts of cholesterol lowering substances is not allowed to be sold in the US. This means that the potential benefit of taking red yeast rice is obliterated unless you purchase your supplement from outside the US. There are three main red yeast rice productions: Zhitai, Cholestin or Hypocol, and Xuezhikang¹.

Unfortunately, many of the supplements in the US get this “water it down” treatment from the FDA.  While it is obvious that there are definitely potential contraindications between some foods/supplements and manufactured medications, it should be clear that – just as with grapefruit – these contraindications should be made clear to the patient and then let the chips fall where they may.  The US has become a place where any idiot can win a lawsuit against someone else – when the actual accountability should be on the idiot⁶.  For those of you who fail to know what I am talking about – please take a moment and read the citation below.

Instead of enforcing personal responsibility and accountability, the nation has reared a generation (going on two at this point) of spoiled, self-centered brats who wouldn’t know personal responsibility if it bit them on the nose.  And, that’s just where they want the general populace.  Because a populace that is more concerned about themselves and their own little world doesn’t wake up and look around and start holding people accountable for their actions.  A populace that is more absorbed in what they can get out of something doesn’t pay attention when more and more liberties are stripped away.  Afterall…the government is just doing it for our own good.  Safety belts must be fastened by all occupants of a vehicle or you will be fined, because it’s against the law.  Why is it against the law?  Because studies say that more people survive car accidents if they have their saftey belts fastened.  Ok…so, the people who want to take the risk of what it potentially means to not fasten their saftey belts are not allowed the freedom of choice. Darwin gets circumvented (which I think is a real shame sometimes).  It doesn’t impact anyone else if they do or do not fasten their safety belt.  It’s a personal choice with personal consequences.  And, yet, the government has stepped in “for their own good”.

The same with homeopathy.  The excuses given for why the beneficial substances are not allowed to be sold in the US just don’t hold up. If it did, even more stringent restrictions will soon be coming our way.  Oh?  That grapefruit you love?  You can’t have it.  It’s potentially contraindicated for those on XYZ medication³.  Oh, you aren’t on that medication?  Tough.  It’s for your own good, you understand…You don’t think it could happen?  Raw milk is a very nutritious part of a healthy diet.  Yet, you cannot get it the United States of America.  That’s correct.  It’s banned⁷.  Just as undiluted/unaltered red yeast rice is banned.

Where will it end?  Well, the sad truth is – it won’t.  Not until people wake up and start pushing back at the overbearing government that is pushing itself more and more into our everyday lives.  Training our children to stand up and account for themselves and to think for themselves is but one step in the effort to push against the incoming tide.  And, I’m very afraid that it is much, much too late.  The dam has burst and the incoming wave just might drown us all.

1. Lee, Dennis, and Jay W. Marks. “Red Yeast Rice: Cholesterol Lowering Supplement on MedicineNet.com.” Medicine Net. Ed. William C. Shiel, Jr. Web. 11 Nov. 2010. [http://www.medicinenet.com/red_yeast_rice_and_cholesterol/article.htm].
2. “Cut Your Risk for Heart Attack.” Natural Health Newsletter (11 Nov. 2010). Trusted Health Products. 11 Nov. 2010. Web. 11 Nov. 2010. [http://www.trustedhealthproducts.com].
3. “Grapefruit Juice Can Interact With Medicines.” WebMD – Better Information. Better Health. Web. 11 Nov. 2010. [http://www.webmd.com/hypertension-high-blood-pressure/guide/grapefruit-juice-and-medication].
4. “FDA Warning Letter to Dynamic Nutritional Associates.” Casewatch. 6 Nov. 2009. Web. 11 Nov. 2010. [http://www.casewatch.org/fdawarning/prod/2009/dynamic.shtml].
5. “FDA Regulations on Homeopathy.” About Holistic Healing – Body Mind Spirit – Chakras – Energy Medicine. Web. 11 Nov. 2010. [http://healing.about.com/od/homeopathy/a/homeopathy_fact_4.htm].
6. “Liebeck v. McDonald’s Restaurants.” Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Web. 11 Nov. 2010. [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liebeck_v._McDonald's_Restaurants].
7. “Banned Food – US Banned Foods List – Delish.com.” Delish. 11 Nov. 2010 [http://www.delish.com/food-fun/banned-food].

At the Altar

Mike - the Softy

The minister went through the typical ceremony; and, then opted to toss in a bit of a lecture given the fact that Mike and I have been married a few times before.  When it came time for us to exchange the vows we had written for each other, Mike had to pause and clear his throat because he was getting choked up.  I felt so close to tears myself that I just had to change up the vows a touch when I said them…and, thus managed to make myself laugh…which I needed in order to keep the tears at bay. 

I absolutely love our vows…so much so, that I’m going to share them with you: 

I, Kili, ask you, Mike, to be my partner, my lover, my best friend and my husband.  I declare my commitment to give you my deepest friendship and love.  Not only when your moments are high, but when they are low.  Not only when you remember clearly who you are, but when you forget.  Not only when you are acting with love, but when you are not.  I further declare, before God and those present that I will seek always to see the light of God within you and seek always to share the light of God within me.  Even, and especially in whatever moments of darkness may come.  I commit to being with you forever in a holy partnership of the soul, that we may do, together, God’s work. Sharing all that is good within us with all those whose lives we touch. 

Banded Like a Duck

As the ceremony wrapped up, we didn’t do a recessional.  Instead, we turned around, the minister announced us as husband and wife, and then said grace over the potluck…and, then we made a beeline to the cake – mmmmmm the cake.  

Cutting the Cake

Even better, though, was looking around and seeing everyone so happy.  There was so much laughter and chatter – even my brother in law who is Mr. Silent most of the time was chattering away with my friend Gordon and his wife Kelly. My son looking so happy and so serious at the same time.  He even took a moment to let Mike know he’d have to answer to my son if he hurt me.  It made me laugh and feel so very touched at the same time. 

My Cousins

I’m one very, very blessed gal.

Hurricane Earl

Sunday morning started slow and easy.  Beautiful skies and unseasonably cool temperatures thanks to Hurricane Earl and the disruption of the normal sweltering crock pot known as the South.  Who would have ever thought I would be thanking a hurricane for an absolutely perfect day for getting married?

The sky was baby blue, with nary a cloud in sight; and, the temperature for the day was supposed to hit a high that was to be significantly cooler than the normal, sweltering Southern heat.  Add to that that the humidity levels were oddly comforting rather than oppressive, and you couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day – and, the morning held all that promise out like a peace offering for the difficulty getting to this point had posed.

Debbie and I sat out on the patio for a while and just enjoyed the morning – and, Debbie learned that humming birds make noise.  They chatter at you, particularly if you are too close to ‘their’ feeder.   It was so cute, seeing the look on her face as she took in the presence that is Possum Bottom.  Photos can’t quite do the place justice.  There is a presence to it that makes you feel like you have taken a step out of time.  All the ‘ugh’ that you pull off the road with sloughs away as you wind down the drive, through the trees and into the opening where the house sits.  Like the cobwebs of worry and stress are wiped away by a loving hand and you are enveloped in a cloak of peace and relaxation.  It was wonderful to get to see my friend being able to be comforted by the anchor of my life – my home.

While she wandered around and oohed and aahed, I went back into the house and puttered.  It was just exactly what I needed to unwind and relax.  Oh, there was plenty still to do – but, for this bit of time in the morning, it was time to relax and just revel in being home.

The Bouquet by Debbie

Around ten or so, we set to work ironing my dress.  I will never again pick on myself for being cautious about some things…Debbie and I decided to put a towel between the iron and the dress – just as an additional safety measure.  Silk can be a little temperamental.  Oh thank goodness we did!  For the first time ever, Mama’s iron spit out rust tainted water.  Had that hit my dress – my white, silk dress – I’d have hit the floor in a faint.  Ok, maybe not – maybe so.  It would have been close, either way.

We got the worst of the wrinkles out of the dress and headed up to the church to get the decorations set up. As we hit the main road, there were Gordon and Kelly arriving.  It made me so happy to see them!  They had stayed the previous night in Biloxi and were heading on after the wedding to visit another relation out in Georgia…so, I actually didn’t feel quite so bad about how far they had to come to be at my wedding.  Just like Debbie finally got to visit her mom after several years of not making it over (her mom’s in Alabama, too).

I jumped out and gave them a hug and told them to head on down to the house, that Mike and Jaz were there.  I was very glad to discover that Mike and Gordon hit it off.  Then again, Gordon’s a pretty awesome kinda guy – which is why my father greeted him as the ‘son [he] never had’.  Anyway, we went on down to the fellowship hall and started setting up, and the lady who helps take care of the grounds showed up and started scrounging the church for flowers.  Amazingly, the flowers that were in the church that weekend were exactly in the colour scheme we had going already with the few flowers we had put together.  It worked out perfectly.

The Cake by Charlotte

As we were setting up, I noticed Daddy was looking a bit unwell.  Mama told me he had taken her meds that morning.  That is very much not a good thing, so we were all keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t pass out (Mama is on a few meds that could have that side effect on people who don’t need to take them).  Everything was coming together very nicely – the music was Celtic jigs and the tables and vines and flowers were looking beautiful.  A great amount of food was brought, but not too much.  The wonderful thing about a potluck, that.  But, the cake wasn’t there…and the ceremony was due to start in thirty minutes.  I started worrying that she might have gotten lost on the way down. Did I mention we were in the middle of nowhere Alabama?  I had to start getting ready, so Daddy went off toward the house to find Charlotte’s cell number and see if he could reach her…which had me worried.  The state he was in, I wasn’t at all thrilled with him driving.  But, Daddy is Daddy and…well, you just kinda stand back and let him roll.

About ten minutes or so before the ceremony was due to begin, up rolls Charlotte and her sweetie Jim – with the lovely cake.  A few minute later, there came Daddy back from the house.  It seems Charlotte had, indeed, gotten a little turned around on the way to the church, bless her heart.  But, wow!  The cake was beautiful, and exactly right for the occasion.  I couldn’t have asked for better than what she provided.  A lovely red-velvet cake with butter-cream icing.  Just thinking about it, now, makes me want to raid my mother’s freezer for the bit we saved so I can have more.  I’ve never in my life had red-velvet with butter-cream.  It has always been red-velvet with sour cream icing.  The change up was unexpected and a perfect blend.

But now everyone was at the church, the food and cake were all in place and my friends and family were getting settled…it had all come together – and no one was struck by lightning and no other catastrophe had befallen anyone or anything…this was really going to happen.  No last minute backing out had occurred, no one had fallen over in a faint (though that was still a minor possibility)…but, for now – everyone was present and accounted for…even Hurricane Earl.

Home

Saturday the 4th was a much needed break from the madness that had been surrounding our trip.  Mom and Dad had stayed at Aunt Dianne’s weekend home (it’s just up the hill from Possum Bottom) and Mike and I had taken over their bed. Until you’ve actually experienced this particular bed, in this particular place it is hard to describe how wonderful a night’s rest you can actually achieve.  I woke before Mike and Jaz, and for the first time I was able to get out of bed without Mike jerking awake.  Poor guy was wiped out and quite cozy.  I left him and Jaz snoring softly and made some coffee.  With the cool morning air laying softly on the ground like a blanket in a way that only a thick Southern climate can create, I walked up the way to Aunt Dianne’s to find Mama out watering the plants and Daddy sitting on the porch enjoying the quiet and the view (ie. my Mama).  We sat and talked for quite a while in the quiet of the morning, just enjoying the day.  Eventually, my coffee cup ran dry and I nudged Daddy to head down the hill and make waffles for us for breakfast.

The Smoke House © Carol

Mike was up and puttering around when we came back down to the house, so I snagged him.  Mama and I dragged him back up the hill to show him Aunt Dianne’s place.  We took him across the little bridge on the property and up the trail through the woods instead of along the road.  It’s a pretty walk and it gives a nice view of the cabin as you come out of the underbrush.  I love Aunt Dianne’s cabin.  It’s where our family Christmas get togethers are held; and, it just has an ambiance to it that is the quintessential country cabin.  Not only that, but she has my Mama’s paintings up on her walls and I really wanted to show them to Mike.  I knew he would appreciate them as much as I do…I was right.  My Mama has some real talent – with so many things.

We wandered back down to Possum Bottom and partook of my Father’s top notch waffles. I really do not eat waffles – ever – except at home.  I’m not sure what it is about Daddy’s waffles; but, I never pass on them.  Showers were taken, chit chat was had, and lunch at Bob’s occurred.  Lunch at Bob’s is a necessity to break one into the culture of the Ramer-Grady area.  You’ve not truly experienced it until you’ve eaten at Bob’s and had a Tex’s pizza.  Mike got to experience 50% of the criteria.  Bob’s is a unique dining experience to say the least.

Me and Debbie

After lunch, we went back down to the house and Aunt Dianne and Uncle Bobby and their grandkids stopped by to say hello and check in on us, see how our trip went, etc.  Not long after they departed, Debbie arrived and – time to get shaking…She did so much work Saturday afternoon and all I did, really, was sit around and kinda watch.  I felt bad about not contributing more in the way of assistance; but, if I had, it would have been a case of too many cooks in the kitchen.  Instead,  Jaz made dinner – chicken fajitas – and we chowed down.  Then, we all camped out in the living room and we introduced Mike to Support Your Local Sheriff and Support Your Local Gunfighter.  While we were watching the movies, Debbie worked on the dress and I worked on knitting a gossamer shawl.  It was a great evening – even though I was pretty sure Debbie was tempted to burn the dress a time or two through the evening because it was being such a pain in the derriere. It turned out absolutely lovely, though.

Poor Debbie was struck down by allergies and associated massive headache on Friday so she was unable to join us for Mama and Matt’s birthday dinner.  However, the dinner was spectacular.  A bit of back story, for those unfamiliar with the peculiarities of my erstwhile familial unit…ie. us crackpots need some explaining.  My father has taken particularly wicked delight in finding various and sundry ways of surprising my mother for more years than I care to spell out here.  The cost of hair dye is more than enough reminder of my encroaching age, thank you very much.

Anyway, never mind that…as I was saying, my father delights in such antics and over the years he has managed to pull various people into aiding in his nefarious plotting and planning.  No matter the age, sex, distance, etc – if you are capable of assisting, interested in assisting and able to zip it (ie. not spill the beans/spoil the plotting and planning that can and has taken six month or more to pull together)…you are most likely going to be pulled into one plot or another at some point.  The amazing thing is how much people who are otherwise quite sane and collected can become plotting, devious miscreants when my father gets that gleam in his eye.  People seem to just fall over themselves to make it happen, with the cries of “You must tell us all about it!” or “Oh that’s so sweet!”  – for those of you who don’t know my father other than in passing, I will give you a moment to collect yourselves from the universal state of shock it tends to impart….for the rest of you – stop laughing already.

If y’all are quite done?  Alrighty then…as I was saying (really, I was getting there)…my father loves to plot.  I am the good girl and ne…ok, I can’t even type it out.  I’m his evil side kick as often as I possibly can be – have been since I was 16 years old and dropped them off at the airport in the  middle of a school day…and, I was in the plotting and planning of mom’s surprised birthday dinner on Friday.  Remember that Friday?  The one I mentioned two paragraphs ago?  Yeah, that one…Sooooo…when Mike and I arrived on Friday afternoon (with license in hand due to a pit stop by the courthouse)…I offhandedly mentioned to my mother that I wanted to take Mike and Jaz out that night.  I hoped it didn’t cause any conflict with any plans she might have…?  Mama was thrilled and relieved…because my father had told her he was taking her out for dinner that night and she had worried about just bailing on us as soon as we got in.  Sneaky sneaky…I am my father’s daughter.

My Family

Mom and dad arrive at the restaurant and there were Matt and Julia and the girls (sans the littlest).  Mama thinks it’s a great coincidence; after all, Matt’s birthday is Saturday so naturally they would drive all the way to Montgomery to have dinner at the Outback that she and dad just happened to choose to go to for dinner.  Then she saw the table they were lead to and thought it was an aweful big table…around which time Mike, Jaz and I walked into the restaurant. The look of surprise and then pure joy on her face made that cross country trek – even the twelve hours in a VW Bug (cute car, you will never get me to buy one if something with better suspension is available) worth every single second.  That look – and, the joy in my mama’s eyes for the rest of the weekend – was more priceless to me than anything Mike could possibly have scrounged up, no matter how fancy or pricey.  It was the best present, the best gift that the man I love could have ever granted me…that look on my mama’s face.  He was so sweet and loving to her and my family.  It was a great evening.  It was one for the memory books.  Great food, laughter like fine wine and love to warm you from the inside out.

That night brought home to me how very unique my family is.  Oh, I’ve always known we walked to a different beat.  We are far from perfect; but, we are family.  No matter what you do.  No matter where you go.  No matter how long you are away.  You are always welcome Home with a squeal, a hug, and more love than you’d ever realized could be showered upon you.  It makes me wish I had a way of sharing that experience with everyone around me.  Everyone deserves to know the open, welcoming, unequivocal love of Family.

One such example of this type of event is our trip to Alabama this last weekend to be married.  If any of you have ever seen the movie Forces of Nature you will be snickering and wondering if I am possibly trying to play on the movie.  I assure you…all I am about to write is exactly what happened from the evening of September the 1st to the evening of September the 2nd.  Bear in mind, we had to be in Montgomery County, Alabama before the courts closed on the 3rd so we could have our license in hand for the service on Sunday the 5th.

Wednesday, 1st September 2010, 7PM PST:

The car is packed and we begin the drive to Los Angeles where we will stay the night so not to be rushed in the morning; and, to avoid having to deal with rush hour traffic into LA. On the way, my phone rings. This truly is as unusual as that sentence makes it sound. I answer and it is my bank’s fraud department worried about some transactions that had taken place. They are breaking up pretty badly and I lose the connection. I figure I will deal with it once we reach the hotel.

Wednesday,  1st September 2010, 9PM PST:

We reach the hotel and get checked in.  All seems to be in order.  I pull out the laptop and log in to my bank…to discover that the temporary hold that had been placed on my card was due to $339.43 in various charges to sites such as Match.com and CCBILLEU.com (which I later found out tends to service the credit card needs of adult entertainment websites).  After much difficulty, I managed to get the fraud department on the line (that number is now permanently saved into my phone, it was so hard to get) – I had them laughing and they were extremely helpful.  The young man commiserated with me about the fact that I was heading to a state that did not have any BoA locations (not kidding) and said that if I had time to hit a local bank before we depart LA in the morning, I would be able to get a temporary card.  So, all my money was refunded and my card canceled.  But, no biggie – I will get a temporary one come morning.  Tuck ourselves into bed in a surprisingly nice room and sleep fairly well.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 7AM PST:

All packed up with the room paid for and breakfast on the way, all looks great.  Though – could someone please explain to me the portions provided by American restaurants?  Seriously.  I got what I thought would be a light breakfast…yogurt, granola, fresh fruit and an English muffin.  The bowl of granola was HUGE.  I expected it to be small like the bowl for the yogurt…mistake on my part for not asking first.  And, they brought milk with the granola which I had no interest in consuming. The fruit was three times what I expected (though very tasty).  I hate leaving food behind; but, there was no way I was going to eat all that food.  It astounds me that you aren’t offered a portions option or something – they won’t even let you order from the child’s menu if you are over a certain age, even if that is all you care to eat.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 9AM PST:

The bank has opened, we have found it without trouble (thank you GPS) and I am one of the first customers of the day – only to find out that since my account was opened in Texas, not California, they cannot provide me a temporary card.  This does not make me feel overly thrilled, I assure you.  So, I withdraw some money – part in cash and part in a cashier’s check.  I just really did not feel comfortable walking around with that much cash on my person.  As I’m leaving the bank, it dawns on me that I have an account with another bank, and I have the debit card for that bank in my wallet.  We look for the closest branch (thank you GPS) and find that it is literally in the same parking lot.  So, in I go and deposit the cashier’s check and all is right with our world.  Working debit card, and a half hour early to the parking garage.  Catastrophe avoided and we are ahead of schedule – always a good thing when girding up to enter the maelstrom that is LAX.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, Noon PST:

The flight is just now boarding.  We were supposed to be departing at this point in time.  I’m a touch concerned since our connecting flight is so close to ours; but, I’ve never missed a flight in my life and figure we will make up some time in the air…until they discover a used needle in the plane’s lavatory and take 20 minutes to do what should have taken merely two.  We arrive at Houston’s George Bush airport three minutes before our departing flight …well, departs.  Yeah.  We arrive in terminal C…our departing flight is in terminal B.  Panic sets in until the pilot informs us that the flights know we were delayed and we just need to get to our connecting flights as quickly as possible.  We arrive at our gate – to find no plane to board.  It had left on time.  Wonderful!

The “customer service” individual tells us that the best they can do is put us on standby for the last flight of the night which departs at 8:05 PM CST.  We ask about any other flights and are told that all flights through Monday are booked solid.  Our only option is standby.  So…off we go to sit standby for the next departing flight.  We had a grand time while waiting.  Lots of laughter and teasing.  A young girl on her way home for the weekend from college to visit her family and an older gentleman whose wife was not quite understanding what was happening when he tried to call and let her know had both been on the same delayed flight as us.  This meant there were four of us sitting standby for the upcoming flight.  Mike and I determined that if there were only two seats available, we’d give up ours and just drive to Birmingham…where my bag was already headed without us….my bag that had my wedding dress, pearls, shoes, etc in it.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 8:05PM CST:

The standby calls were made and only two seats were available.  Time to catch the bus over to the rental car terminal and see what was available for a one way trip from Houston to Birmingham.  We finally find one that won’t cost us an arm and a leg – only to have them tell me my card was declined.  I could not believe it.  I had deposited my money and thus knew the money had to be in the account, right?  We go over to the ATM machine only to find a lonely 58¢ in said bank account.  Because it had been a cashier’s check and not cash, they had not instantly credited it to my account.

We attempt to use Mike’s card, but it is just a touch short of what we needed to get the car.  I am about ready to throw my hands in the air and give up when I recall that Mike has a PayPal debit card.  I ask him if he has it with him.  He does.  I ask the rental car guy (Kenneth) if the rental terminal has wifi…it does not.  So, we head back to the airport to use the wifi service.  After painful moments attempting to connect, I manage to transfer money from my original bank account via PayPal to Mike’s PayPal account – where he instantly has it available on his debit card.

Thursday, 2nd September 2010, 10:35PM CST:

We have successfully acquired a vehicle for a one way trip to the Birmingham airport – where my father and son will make a second trip (since the first one was a bust) and pick us and my bag up and take us down to Montgomery to pick up the license…we are on our way. The drive was actually quite uneventful and lovely. Particularly one stretch of about 87 miles through a national forest. We were blessed to be able to help a man who was in difficulty and making his day a little brighter, because of driving to Alabama. And, we arrived into Birmingham International Airport around 11:30AM CST on the 3rd. This gave us enough time to get the bag, get lunch, and drive the two hours south to Montgomery to get the license (which was essentially waiting for us thanks to “who you know”) and were down to the house in plenty of time to have a couple hours to decompress before heading back into Montgomery to have a family dinner celebrating Mama and Matt’s birthdays.

Definitely a case of “are you sure you want to do this?” It would have been so easy to quit along the way. I’m certainly glad we did not. I love my honey and the wedding and the visit was worth every moment of stress and anxiety to get from California to Alabama.

Too precious for words

Well, I decided to put the kibosh on the layette set I was making. Instead, I’m working up a sweater of my own design. It will be a little large so it should fit the tyke come fall/winter time, with room under for a comfy t-shirt or whatever for extra layers. Making it like a little Guernsey. It will be a natural cotton – I’m contemplating using light blue for the cabled areas and then the cuff and neck in the natural like the base of the body. We’ll see. Now to make sure I get the proportions correct on this little sweater so it doesn’t come out all wonky.

We moved last weekend into an RV park in the middle of the Cleveland National Forest. I love it. No, I’m not living in an RV. I’m living in a ‘model’ home. It’s got two rooms, a living room, bathroom, kitchen, patio and fire ring. The view is just excellent, and the park pays for all utilities except propane and TV. It’s a bit more space than what we had before – at nearly a $400/mo savings after everything is considered. Seemed like the smart move. We have satellite television and internet – yes, we are that remote. No phone service. We drive about five miles down the road and call from the lookout…absolutely amazing signal there. **laughs**

Porch view

Friday night, we started up a fire in the fire ring and within five minutes of the smoke hitting the air, one of our neighbors showed up, beer in hand. We visited for several hours, cooked some turkey dogs on the fire and just really enjoyed the evening. The following night, several of the neighbors got together and visited for several hours by a large fire. It was very enjoyable. A little more company than my introverted soul enjoys at one time – but, even so, it was great to discover that we have so many wonderful neighbours. The Grove’s community is just special. Each and everyone we’ve met, so far, has been a pure joy. It has been a very long time since I lived in a place where people not only were curious about their neighbors, but made the effort to get to know them all – and to make it a true community. That is a priceless thing.

Saturday, we went on a major shopping spree to fill the larder. I got three full roasting chickens and popped them in the oven to cook while I put the rest of the groceries away. Then just relaxed on the couch while I came up with the plan and design for Gibson’s sweater. After the chickens finished (3 chickens cooked at 375 for ~2 hours), I pulled them out of the oven and separated the breasts, legs, thighs off of two of the birds and froze them. The third one, I pulled all the meat off, shredded it and put it in a Tupperware container in the fridge – now I’m ready for my recipes that call for chicken in the upcoming week.

The drive

I took the juices from the roasted chickens and dumped it into a stock pot. I added an equal amount of water and then as I was separating and shredding the chickens, I put all the fat, bones, necks, hearts, skins, etc into the stock pot. I added two bay leaves, some oregano and basil, onion (we had a witherd up bi that really needed to get used ASAP), the leaves off the celery and the itty bitty celery hearts, two carrots and a couple mushrooms and left it to boil for two hours. I strained it out and froze the resulting stock – three containers in the freezer prepared for chicken ‘n’ dumplin’s or whatever else I may wish to make that requires chicken stock.

I have planned out a tentative menu for the next few weeks. Nothing for any particular day; but, we went shopping with specific recipes in mind. That being the case, it was really so much more cost effective to purchase several whole chickens and just prepare them at home and make my own stock rather than buying it all in separate bits. We figured it out and we saved approximately $25 doing it this way. A whole chicken cost us $4.11. The breasts (four in the package) were freaking $12. The thighs were $7 for a rather goodly portion. M prefers the dark and I prefer the white, so I tend to cook with a mix of both – it just made buying the whole chicken a lot more cost efficient. And, really, it wasn’t that difficult to do. Sure, it was a touch time consuming to debone and skin them…but, I didn’t have anything pressing to do other than work on Gibson’s sweater. And, an hour to debone and skin three chickens is really not that big a bother – esp when it saves me $25 off my grocery bill!!

The house

Last night, I made a homemade pizza – prepackaged pizza crust (I was feeling lazy), marinara sauce, chicken (from the chickens I roasted on Saturday), chopped asparagus, mushrooms, diced broccoli, diced zucchini, feta and mozzarella. Considering the grumbling from M about some of the ingredients, I was happily surprised when he devoured it. Yay for another successful meal. So, in my moment of happiness, I decided to bake up some brownies. I availed myself of our neighbour Kurt and borrowed some vanilla (yes, people actually do still borrow ingredients from each other – amazing!). I gave him one of the brownies this morning as he headed off to work. **chuckles** These were brownies from scratch, not prepackaged. I had everything except vanilla. I used cacao nibs and cacao powder, sugar, butter (yes, the real deal), flour, vanilla and baking powder. I was informed that the only thing missing was pecans. Since I can’t stand nuts in my food, I disagreed…however, next time I’ll put pecans on his side…and, I think I will try adding cherries to my side. Sounds pretty tasty to me.