Smithellaneous

A Smithellaneous Classic Welcome. And A New Site Link.

2012-01-11T10:31:00.002-05:00

Hello and welcome to an old blog with a new name, Smithellaneous Classic.
Smithellaneous Classic is a blog with over seven hundred Smithellaneous stories, accompanied by thousands of pictures. You are more than welcome to come in, take your shoes off, and sit a spell. (Can you tell I'm Southern?)

At any rate, I'm glad you're here. Stay as long as you want, and also feel free to drop by the current Smithellaneous blog when you have a moment.

Swooning and Bicycles and Goodbyes

2012-01-09T10:34:00.002-05:00

Okay. I’m still working over at the new blog (smithellaneous.com) but it takes me forever to figure out how to post there and I still have no idea how to add pictures. So for the next few days, I’ll continue to post here while getting everything figured out.
I was hoping to be able to work on the new blog “off line” so that everyone wouldn’t see all my ridiculous attempts at layout and color choice and blog theme but alas, that doesn’t seem to be possible. So whenever you pop on over to smithellaneous.com just remember that it is very much a work in progress and I currently have no idea what I’m doing.
Okay? Okay.

Here are a few final pictures from Nathan and Meagan’s Christmas visit.
On Christmas Sunday, we gave our Worship Team the morning off; Steve and I were just going to lead the music ourselves but then Nathan and Meagan volunteered to help and we had us a pretty good little band goin’ on!

Here are the “Smith Kids” leaving the church after service. I have no idea what Nathan and Meagan were up to but they were obviously doing their usual good job of having a good time—whenever, wherever.

Our favorite son. Meagan said she positively swoons when she looks at this picture. She is a veritable Swoonin’ Smith!
During their visit, we celebrated Meagan’s 24th birthday one week late.
The Hawley family always does amazing centerpieces for their family members’ birthdays and I was feeling the pressure to put together something lovely. Imagine my happiness when I made a quick swing through the thrift store and found these sparkly things for next to nothing. It’s not quite Hawley-esque but it was pretty good for having been put together by a non-center-piece-making woman.

It was Meagan’s first chance to wear the famous Smith Birthday Hat. Doesn’t she look excited?

Following the birthday meal, Nathan jumped right up to dishes. I love me a dish-doing man.

Every time Nathan and Meagan have come home, we’ve all gone on a bike ride. Usually their visits coincide with cold weather so we always have a little competition to see whose cold weather outfit can be the most . . . um . . . interesting.

Halfway through the ride, I forced the kids to dismount their bikes and pose for a picture or two. They sighed patiently and did as they were bid.

A couple days later when it was time for The Leaving to occur, the weather had warmed up so nicely Meagan was quite comfortable in a dress and sandals. Love this NC weather—from freezing to balmy, all within hours.
She is making her sad face in this picture because it’s time to leave for the airport.

Why does this child always insist on leaving after every visit? I just don’t get it.

Airport good-byes . . .

. . . and they were gone.

Taking our hearts with them.

A Merry Charlotte Christmas

2012-01-06T10:38:00.001-05:00

Just a quick reminder that Smithellaneous will be off line a couple days starting tomorrow as we make the move to a new hosting site.
If I’m not back up and running by Monday, just assume that I’m in the corner of our bedroom in the fetal position trying to cope with
the sad fact that technology has gotten the best of me. Oh. And also please send chocolate.

Remember: To get to the new site, the URL will be the same: www.smithellaneous.com

I know it’s the sixth of January already, but forgive me if I backtrack a little into Christmas. I just didn’t get all my Christmas writing wrapped up before the ol’ calendar page did its annual flip.

Just so you don’t get the erroneous impression that our recent Christmas visit to Charlotte was made up only of frightening encounters with oysters here are a few happier pictures from the visit.

Nathan and Sarah have been helping to set this table for holidays for a lot of years now and things haven’t changed much.

After the table setting was completed, Nathan rummaged around in the basement and discovered a little car he used to play with when he was small. Of course, anything with wheels is an immediate attraction to guys of any age, so he and Steve set off to have a little fun.

Dontcha love that face?

And this one?

Since my interests run more toward things non-mechanical (and since Meagan was ably covering the photography duties outside) I helped Steve’s mom in the house. In the course of getting things ready for the meal, she showed me a special item she had recently come across--her prom book from sixty years ago.

I was entranced.

It was especially fun to see that the last page included a diary where she notes who she has attended the prom with. It was some fella named, “Kenny.”

I was amazed by how much work had gone into creating those booklets in a world before computers and printers and paper cutters. I just love quaint, meaningful items from the past.

Especially when the people of the past . . .

. . . turn into the people of my present. (The modern day “Kenny” and his prom date.)

Speaking of things from the past, this tray has been in the Smith family ever since I started showing up there 32 years ago. It has held a variety of items over the years but on this recent Christmas, its assigned job was to provide a home for the eggnog glasses.

Meagan was experimenting with taking pictures where the foreground was clear and background was fuzzy; she took the pictures of the glasses and the pool table and did a great job. Nice to have another photographer in the family.

On Tuesday morning when we got up, we found pre-cut grapefruit set out for us on the kitchen table. It’s a pretty nice hotel that cuts the grapefruit for its guests; I think we’ll definitely want to return in the future.

Unfortunately, the proprietors of this particular establishment did not have the foresight to order up good weather for its departing guests. Since Steve and Nathan had left at 4 am for their ski trip, Meagan and I had to don some interesting rain to protect our hair as we loaded the van without our fellas. (Meagan is wearing a grocery bag; I am wearing a gardening hat. Try not to be jealous.)

As we drove away in the cold, pouring rain, we left behind memories of the fun, the food, and the joy that are wrapped up in the celebration of Christmas. Our entire family’s special joy this year was being joined by Meagan—our brand new Smith family member.

It was truly a merry Charlotte Christmas.

Comments

May I just mention that this is the last time I will need to respond to the comments in a post?
When the new site is up, we can all reply to each other right in the comments area. How fun will that be?
I’m looking forward to all the conversations we will have.

And speaking of comments, I want to thank those of you who left such interesting and thought provoking entries on the recent writing I posted by Anne Lamott. We’ve got some deep thinkers and great writers among us Smithellaneous folks; I love it!

And from other posts . . .

Kristina said, “The word 'Arctic' should be capitalized, particularly when being used as a noun although convention is changing and it is now usually capitalized at all times. I generally don't point such things out because it makes people mad, but I know your affinity for language and writing and thought you might be one of the few humans who prefers to be told!”

Kristina, how right you are! I am definitely one of the few humans who prefers to be told about this kind of stuff—thanks so much for taking the time to let me know. I now consider my knowledge to be properly Arctic-ized.”

Pam D. said, “Yay for a better blogging platform! I think I have 4 blogs now; I hopped from Blogger to Wordpress.com to Wordpress.org. And photography was the driving reason; Blogger is fine for.. well.. blogging. But if photography is a big part of what you post, it's not so great. Can't wait to see what you end up with (and I distinctly remember when Smithellaneous started... and am proud to have played a small role in the naming thereof!).”

For those of you who may not know the story, when I was looking for a name for my blog almost three years ago, I asked some of my readers for suggestions. I got a whole bunch of great ideas but when Pam emailed me with the name, “Smithellany” I was hooked. I changed it slightly to Smithellaneous (since I figured more people were familiar with the word miscellaneous rather than miscellany) and we were good to go. I have gotten so many compliments on the blog’s name and I owe it all to Pam’s great idea!

And finally, a more serious comment . . .

Katmayo said, “Years ago, when my daughter Jessica was stillborn, I wrote, and wrote and ... I used it to expel the horrid sadness that took my life into darkness. I continued to write until the miracle birth of my daughter Rachael Lynn. I stopped writing, but so enjoyed reading the wonderful writings and artwork of my sweet Rachael. When Rachael died 3/1/2003, I tried to write again, but my ability with words couldn't touch my sadness. I am still struggling, all these years later, to find release. Writing helped me with the loss of my Jessica, but nothing, so far, has touched the pain of my Rachael's loss...maybe someday.”

Kathie, you’ve been reading here for a long, long time and I’m so glad you’re a part of this circle. I’m always honored when people share the hard parts of their lives and you have certainly had many hard and horrible things to face over these past years.

I’ve read Rachel’s writings and seen her artwork and I know that the gift of excellent writing runs in your family. When the time is right, I believe you will write again--to honor Jessica, to honor Rachael and to honor your own voice. Prayers and hugs to you today. Love, Becky

A Smithellaneous Change

2012-01-05T10:43:00.001-05:00

Nine years ago this month, Sarah was having a bone marrow transplant at Duke.

Nine years ago this month, I started blogging.

It’s amazing to me that some of you who are reading this post right now joined the Smith family journey all those years ago. (And by the way, if you’re someone who has been reading since Sarah’s early hospital days, please leave a quick comment—I’d love to see how many of you fit the category of “vintage” Smith friends.)

And for those of you who have come along more recently? I’m thrilled that you’re here because it’s always a joy to cross paths with new friends. If it wasn’t for you—my old and new readers--I would have no reason to blog, no reason to sit down at a computer and type out the story of our lives. So thank you all a hundred times over; I’m more grateful for my blog friends than you could possibly know.

My blogging has undergone a few changes over the years. I started out on Caringbridge (a blog service for families with health issues) and for the first couple of years wrote posts largely centered around Sarah’s illness and treatment; however, as she (thankfully) began to get better, I branched out more to general family posts. I didn’t include pictures way back then because I just didn’t know how’; at this point in my life, though, I can’t imagine blogging without pictures since I love photography almost as much as I love writing.

Almost three years ago, I made the decision to transition from Caringbridge to a more general blog, although our Caringbridge site is still up. And may I just add that if you ever have a little extra time to spend, read back through some of those archives; they contain some of my favorite stories and some of my favorite writing.

And so that all brings us up to right now.

And right now brings us to more changes. Good changes.

As a little bit of background, for the past year or so I’ve become increasingly frustrated with the limitations I’ve run into with Blogger, the platform that currently hosts Smithellaneous. However, I was a bit intimidated about making any changes because tech speak is not my first language and Blogger is well suited to people with limited technical knowledge.

But hey. In March, I will turn fifty years old. And even though you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, I think there is a good chance that a middle-aged lady like myself can learn a new thing or two.

Which brings me to the point of this post. (And yes, there is a point. If you were starting to wonder.)

Starting on Saturday, the switch over to my new blog home will take place which means that Smithellaneous will be off line for a couple days while this middle aged mama frantically tries to learn the “new tricks” necessary to take the blog to a new level. And when I say a new level, I mean exactly that. The new blogging platform is unlimited in its features and opportunities for creativity in presentation, photography display, blog posts, reader interaction, design, etc.

I am really, really pumped about this transition but also a little scared. (But that’s okay.)

As far as the nuts and bolts of the move go, my original goal was to move all the material from this site over to the new one; however, as I’ve consulted with some tech people about that, I’ve discovered that while the text would transfer just fine , the pictures would not. And since I really don’t feel like moving a thousand or so pictures one by one, I decided that the best thing to do is to leave everything here that’s already here and let this spot serve as a sort of Smithellaneous Archives. That means I’ll be starting from scratch in my new Smithellaneous home, which will be a liberating and fun experience.

If you’re wondering what complicated technical hoops you might have to jump through in order to get to the new site, here is the address: smithellaneous.com

There now. Now wasn’t that easy? The very same address you’re already using will take you straight to the new site. (I love simple stuff.)

And if you want to come here to this current site, you’ll just type in smithellaneous.blogspot.com.

Also, to make things even more easy for you, I will be adding clickable links to each site which will take you back and forth between the two sites in about half a second.

So anyway, that’s the news on the blog switch front. Thanks in advance for your patience as the changeover is made; it will probably take a couple weeks to get everything exactly the way I want it in my new home but the end result will be more than worth it.

Have I mentioned how excited I am?

And now to reward you for slogging through paragraph after paragraph of technical stuff, here are a few photos to close with.

Sarah and Meagan asked me to take their picture because they were so impressed that they dressed exactly the same without even without planning it, sporting pink and brown tops, jeans, and Sperry’s.

I’m posting the next two pictures for no reason whatsoever except for that they strike me funny.

We were attempting to flip the mattress with just Steve, Sarah and me (which I truly didn’t think was possibly) and Steve made such dramatic grunting noises as he gradually shouldered the mattress into an upright position that I stopped helping and just started giggling. And may I just say that a giggling wife is not a real helpful person when it comes to mattress flipping?

Steve is no doubt standing and wondering just what kind of loony tunes wife he married all those years ago.

Speaking of things that make me giggle, we were attempting a different “take” on a family Christmas photo and along the way, tried this one which turned out to be a little on the goofy side. (As well as not being very well focused.)

Nathan and Meagan are trying very hard not to giggle.

We finally ended up with this one, which is not real great (it was too dark and I had to lighten it to the point where it looks a little funky) but at least we got something to commemorate Meagan’s first Christmas as a Smith.

Are they a great pair, or what?

Wedding Wednesday: The Manteo Edition

2012-01-04T10:43:00.002-05:00

Okay. So here’s the deal.

I announced a couple weeks ago that Wedding Wednesdays would be coming to a close because I was running short on official wedding pictures to post. But I have some good news on that front.

Nathan and Meagan’s photographer is going to be sending me the wedding pictures in a format that preserves their original resolution which will be great because there were some pictures I wanted to post but wasn’t able to because of the low resolution. (Due to them being transferred from computer to computer.) So when I receive those pictures, I will be able to post a few more from The Actual Big Day. (And everyone said, “Hooray!”)

Also, I now have a copy of the video of the wedding; however, it’s in a format that I can’t load on my computer. I’m talking to a video guy I know in hopes of getting that whole puzzlement figured out so that I can post a few video snippets.

In the meantime, there’s even more wedding photo news!

As of last Friday, a whole new crop of Nathan and Meagan wedding pictures came into existence. And just how did that happen?

Well, Meagan asked me several months ago if I would be willing to take some wedding pictures of her and Nathan when they came to Manteo for Christmas. Because of time limitations on their wedding day, they hadn’t gotten as many photos of just the two of them as they would have liked.

Well, when she first asked me, my response was to say yes and and to get all excited about it because I love the two of them and of course I love taking pictures. What’s not to be excited about?

But then as I started thinking about it some more, I got worried.

“Oh dear,” said I to myself, “What have I done? Why did I say yes? I’m not a real photographer like their wonderful wedding photographers, Kristen and Chris. I’m still not exactly sure what I’m doing and what if Meagan goes to all the trouble of bringing her dress and getting all decked out and I take horrible, awful pictures?”

And then, as I pondered and worried further, I thought that maybe if I just took hundreds and hundreds of shots over the course of our session, just possibly two or three of them might turn out okay and Meagan and Nathan won’t be too terribly disappointed in my feeble photography efforts.

So that was my big plan: the utilization of Scattershot Photography. Shoot, shoot, and shoot some more and eventually you should hit on something good. (Feel free to tell everyone you know about this amazing photography tool.)

And so last Friday, Nathan, Meagan, Sarah and I took off on a Picture Taking Adventure around Manteo. We got stares, applause, comments, and smiles and I ended up with a rough estimate of one bazillion pictures. I also gave Sarah my purse camera so that she could join me in the snapping frenzy and with the Scattershot Photography Tip going full steam, we actually managed to get some really lovely shots.

So the good news is that if you all are still up for it, Wedding Wednesday can continue on for a while longer yet because we’ve got some new beautiful, fun photos to share and some cool stories to go with them.

So. Having said all that?

Welcome to Wedding Wednesday: The Manteo Edition

As soon as Nathan and Meagan arrived in Manteo, she unpacked her gown and hung it in Sarah’s room to let the wrinkles fall out. It was actually a little sobering for this mama to see a wedding dress hanging in my 16-year old daughter’s room because all I could think was, “Someday, that will be Sarah’s dress hanging there.” (sniff)

One of the funniest parts of the whole experience was watching Nathan (in his ubiquitous t-shirt and basketball shorts) help get Meagan into her dress. Obviously he didn’t have that particular privilege before their real wedding so he lacked a bit of practical experience as a Wedding Dress Donning Assistant. But he was an awfully good sport . . .

even during those times when he wasn’t sure if he should be hands on . . .

or hands off.

I especially love this shot.

After the dress was finally in place . . .

Nathan morphed from The Dresser of the Bride to the Carrier of the Bridal Gown Train. He’s one multi talented fella, that’s for sure.

Sarah joined her brother in their appointed mission of getting the bride untrippingly from the third floor to the second floor of our home.

It was quite the undertaking.

Once they had safely made it down the stairs, Meagan did some final touch ups to her make up while Nathan exchanged the shorts for a suit.

It was so fun watching the two of them get ready and sharing their joy.

And then it was, “Here Comes the Bride” all over again.

Meagan helped Nathan do some little adjustments on his suit and then . . .

. . . it was out the door for the adventure!

Here’s a sneak peak of a couple pictures we took while we were out and about.

Oops. Wrong one.

Okay. that’s better!

There now. Wasn’t that fun?

Looking forwarding to many more Wedding Wednesdays to come!

Turn Off Twitter. And Don’t Clean The House.

2012-01-03T09:52:00.001-05:00

The title of this post is taken from an article I read earlier this morning by Anne Lamott, a fabulous, incredible writer. I don’t usually make posts of other people’s writing, but since we’re at the beginning of a new year and since this article by Anne impacted me so deeply, I want to share it with you all.

Before we get to it though, let me just mention that tomorrow I’ll be doing a Wedding Wednesday that you won’t want want to miss!

And now . . . here’s Anne. I’d love for you to leave a comment and share with the rest of us what you thought about what she wrote.

Time Lost and Found

I sometimes teach classes on writing, during which I tell my students every single thing I know about the craft and habit. This takes approximately 45 minutes. I begin with my core belief—and the foundation of almost all wisdom traditions—that there is nothing you can buy, achieve, own, or rent that can fill up that hunger inside for a sense of fulfillment and wonder. But the good news is that creative expression, whether that means writing, dancing, bird-watching, or cooking, can give a person almost everything that he or she has been searching for: enlivenment, peace, meaning, and the incalculable wealth of time spent quietly in beauty.

Then I bring up the bad news: You have to make time to do this.

This means you have to grasp that your manic forms of connectivity—cell phone, email, text, Twitter—steal most chances of lasting connection or amazement. That multitasking can argue a wasted life. That a close friendship is worth more than material success.

Needless to say, this is very distressing for my writing students. They start to explain that they have two kids at home, or five, a stable of horses or a hive of bees, and 40-hour workweeks. Or, on the other hand, sometimes they are climbing the walls with boredom, own nearly nothing, and are looking for work full-time, which is why they can’t make time now to pursue their hearts’ desires. They often add that as soon as they retire, or their last child moves out, or they move to the country, or to the city, or sell the horses, they will. They are absolutely sincere, and they are delusional.

I often remember the story from India of a beggar who sat outside a temple, begging for just enough every day to keep body and soul alive, until the temple elders convinced him to move across the street and sit under a tree. Years of begging and bare subsistence followed until he died. The temple elders decided to bury him beneath his cherished tree, where, after shoveling away a couple of feet of earth, they found a stash of gold coins that he had unknowingly sat on, all those hand-to-mouth years.

You already have the gold coins beneath you, of presence, creativity, intimacy, time for wonder, and nature, and life. Oh, yeah, you say? And where would those rascally coins be?

This is what I say: First of all, no one needs to watch the news every night, unless one is married to the anchor. Otherwise, you are mostly going to learn more than you need to know about where the local fires are, and how rainy it has been: so rainy! That is half an hour, a few days a week, I tell my students. You could commit to writing one page a night, which, over a year, is most of a book.

If they have to get up early for work and can’t stay up late, I ask them if they are willing NOT to do one thing every day, that otherwise they were going to try and cram into their schedule.

They may explain that they have to go to the gym four days a week or they get crazy, to which I reply that that’s fine—no one else really cares if anyone else finally starts to write or volunteers with marine mammals. But how can they not care and let life slip away? Can’t they give up the gym once a week and buy two hours’ worth of fresh, delectable moments? (Here they glance at my butt.)

Can they commit to meeting one close friend for two hours every week, in bookstores, to compare notes? Or at an Audubon sanctuary? Or a winery?

They look at me bitterly now—they don’t think I understand. But I do—I know how addictive busyness and mania are. But I ask them whether, if their children grow up to become adults who spend this one precious life in a spin of multitasking, stress, and achievement, and then work out four times a week, will they be pleased that their kids also pursued this kind of whirlwind life?

If not, if they want much more for their kids, lives well spent in hard work and savoring all that is lovely, why are they living this manic way?

I ask them, is there a eucalyptus grove at the end of their street, or a new exhibit at the art museum? An upcoming minus tide at the beach where the agates and tide pools are, or a great poet coming to the library soon? A pond where you can see so many turtles? A journal to fill?

If so, what manic or compulsive hours will they give up in trade for the equivalent time to write, or meander? Time is not free—that’s why it’s so precious and worth fighting for.

Will they give me one hour of housecleaning in exchange for the poetry reading? Or wash the car just one time a month, for the turtles? No? I understand. But at 80, will they be proud that they spent their lives keeping their houses cleaner than anyone else in the family did, except for mad Aunt Beth, who had the vapors? Or that they kept their car polished to a high sheen that made the neighbors quiver with jealousy? Or worked their fingers to the bone providing a high quality of life, but maybe accidentally forgot to be deeply and truly present for their kids, and now their grandchildren?

I think it’s going to hurt. What fills us is real, sweet, dopey, funny life.

I’ve heard it said that every day you need half an hour of quiet time for yourself, or your Self, unless you’re incredibly busy and stressed, in which case you need an hour. I promise you, it is there. Fight tooth and nail to find time, to make it. It is our true wealth, this moment, this hour, this day.

The Saga of the Slimy Oysters

2012-01-02T08:22:00.001-05:00

(Before I get to today’s post, I’d like to take a minute to wish my most wonderful husband a happy thirtieth anniversary. No one knows me better, understands me better, or loves me better. I’m so thankful for the past three decades of marriage to this truly amazing man.)

When we went to Charlotte for Christmas, Steve got the handy dandy idea of taking along some fresh scallops and oysters. I mean what’s the sense of residing by the sea if you can’t share its bounty with those you love?

I was fine with the scallops. They’re actually pretty good wrapped in bacon and cooked on the grill. But oozy oysters in a shell? Ick. I figured as long as those nasty creatures stayed at least one hundred feet from my person at all times, we could coexist in a fairly peaceable manner.

And so we arrived in Charlotte and the Oyster/Scallop Hors D’oeuvres Extravaganza Preceding the Christmas Feast began.

Nathan absolutely loved the scallops but wasn’t too keen about the thought of eating a steamed oyster. However, when I offered to give him $5 to try one, he didn’t even blink. Cash-strapped newlyweds are all about earning a little extra moola.

Vernie required no bribe at all; she just sat right down, got the oyster arranged on a cracker and munched it on down. (And may I just say that she has the most beautiful skin. Can you believe she’s a great grandma?)

Steve’s younger brother, Jeff, was in fine form during the extravaganza, doing the Heeby Jeeby Dance as a way of poking fun at those of us who were sitting on the sidelines, shuddering with horror at the very thought of eating oily oysters. (If you didn’t know, the Heeby Jeeby Dance involves sticking both arms out and waving them around while turning in a circle. Jeff got lots of practice at it.)

The Smith Men (Steve’s dad, two brothers, and Nathan) continued to enjoy their seafood mini buffet.

Everyone was having a great time and everything was going along just swimmingly when suddenly, inexplicably, the mood changed.

Things turned ugly.

Eyes turned toward . . . me.

“Me?” I squeaked pitifully? “You want me to eat an oyster? I think NOT!”

I took a few steps back from the proceedings so that the alien nasty oysters couldn’t crawl out of their slippery shells and start stalking me around the deck. I was absolutely appalled at the thought of putting any slimy gray creature from the sea into my mouth.

However. Some arm twisting proceeded to commence and after trying to say no seventeen different ways, the situation eventually degenerated to the horrific point where a little oyster fella perched himself on a cracker and headed my way.

I cannot believe I am smiling at the oyster; I should have been screaming and gagging.

From that point on, it was not a happy sight. I am sparing you the worst of the faces I made, but I’m sure you can tell by the ones I’ve included that the whole experience was ranked right up there with childbirth in the Enjoyment Department. (That white thing is a napkin that Steve gallantly applied to my person before the trauma began.)

In closing, I would love to say that a good time was had by all; however, the oysters and I would have to respectfully disagree.

(All photos by Meagan Smith)

Comments

Rachel said, “Just love these pictures... I can't help but wonder what the temperature is in your house. It seems like Nathan is usually wearing shorts and a t-shirt when he is home...yet Meagan is in a sweat shirt and the rest of you are somewhere in between. lol”

Rachel, that is a very good question. I truly think that if Nathan lived on an iceberg in the arctic, he would still choose to put on his t-shirt and basketball shorts. So I guess you should get your hints as to our house’s temp from our clothes—NOT his! (And we keep it at about 71 degrees.)

Lizz wrote, “Sue G, your post (comment) brought tears to my eyes! Favorite parts "and especially for the miracle of the Life about Whom we celebrate this season" and "What I like about LOVE is that it can't be bought...but it sure can be returned!!!!" I love the last one so so much! I'm going to use it as much as possible! Wishing you many more Christmases!”

Lizz, I just love it when people use this forum to build other people up. And if anyone deserves a compliment on writing, it would be our friend, Sue. Thanks for drawing attention to yet another one of her wonderfully penned comments.

Karen said, “Off topic: I would like to share Sarah's story with this family (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Prayers-for-Adler-Shelbourne/333068460055780), but wanted to check with you first. I would love to give them some hope for their little Adler.”

Karen, we would love for you to share Sarah’s story. Giving hope is what it’s all about!

Today’s Guest Blogger: Meagan Smith!

2011-12-30T12:28:00.003-05:00

Yes, you read that right. Meagan is writing today’s Smithellaneous post! She is going to tell you about the picture below that I included in a recent Wedding Wednesday. When I posted the picture, I didn’t look real closely at the ring that was in the box; it was only this week that Meagan told me about that ring’s significance. When she finished telling me the story I said, “Meagan, would you please write that story for Smithellaneous?”

And happily she said she would.

A Ring and Two Promises

By Meagan Smith

My sisters and I are close in age with only two years separating us from each other; because of this, we’ve had the opportunity as we were growing up to become very close friends.

As we grew up, our parents initiated what we dubbed rites of passage. At ten, we were able to cut our hair. At twelve, we were able to wear make-up and shave our legs. At fifteen, we were promoted to eye make-up.

Fifteen years old was also the age when we received our promise ring. This was a special time when each daughter was taken out to a nice dinner with our parents and they would discuss with us the importance of saving ourselves for our husband and for our wedding night.

As time would have it, December 20, 2002, was the appointed day for me to receive my ring; that evening found my mom, my dad and myself cozily tucked away in a booth at Carrabba’s Italian Grill. I had chosen a beautiful baguette diamond ring to remind me of my promise I would make that night.

After we ate dinner, my mom took the ring out and set it on the table in front of me. My dad began to talk to me about the promise I would make that night to save myself for my husband. They explained how this promise was not one that I would only make to them, but also to God and to my future husband.
As I put the ring on that night, I made a vow before my parents and God that I would save myself for the one He had for me. It became very real to me as we sat at the table and prayed that God would help me in the years to come. I was making a vow not only to protect my body, but also my mind and my eyes from the things that would take away from that vow of purity.

It wasn’t just the ring that helped me keep the promise but it was also the many prayers of my family and myself as I got older that reminded me every day of the vow that had been made sitting in that booth in 2002. I wore that ring every day for nine years. And every day I would pray, “God help me keep my promise for one more day.”

Then in 2009, I found him, the man of my dreams, the man I had prayed for so many years. He was handsome, tall, smelled good, was a childhood friend, was good with money, was funny, had a great family, loved kids, loved Jesus--and did I mention he looked good? His name was Nathan Smith and he was a psychology major one year behind me in school, but what does age matter?

We began dating on June 19, 2009, and continued the relationship until February 26, 2011 when he asked me to marry him and spend the rest of my life with him. That night was the first time my promise ring had ever been replaced with another ring. It also meant my second promise would begin just five months from that night.

On July 23, 2011, I sat down in the dressing room of the church where I was about to be married and penned words to my soon-to-be-husband of the promise I had kept to God, and my parents, and him.

I explained to him once again the importance of the ring and what it meant to be able to truly give him the gift of myself on our wedding day. I wrote everything he was to me and expressed how excited I was that my promise had been kept for so many years. I could not think of a better man to give this gift to than him. He was a true answer to my prayers and God had given me the desires of my heart through him.

As I walked down the aisle toward my husband-to-be, holding on to my daddy’s arm with my family, friends and God watching me, I could not have been more thankful that a promise was made, a promise was kept and a new promise was about to be made. Only this time the promise would not be to save myself, but to give myself whole heartedly. The promise would not be for only nine years, but it would be for a life time.

(Edited to add: A comment was left asking if Nathan had made the same commitment and he did; he just didn't have the ring to wear.)

Thanks, Meagan, for sharing the beautiful story of a beautiful promise!
And just to make this entry all the more meaningful, tonight is the night that we have chosen to present Sarah with her own promise ring. She asked Steve and I if we could wait and do our ceremony until Nathan and Meagan got home so that they could take part in it. (Which I think says a lot about how much she thinks of the two of them.)

So tonight Sarah will make her own promise of purity, surrounded by a family who loves her. What a joy it will be to see the tradition continue as we wait with her to meet the man that God has set aside to be her husband.

The Calendar Confused, Jet Lagged, Whiplashed Blog Experience

2011-12-28T11:15:00.001-05:00

Okay. Just so you all don’t get a bad case of Calendar Confused, Jet Lagged Whiplash, let me just mention that I am rewinding time just a bit (a nice little trick, if I do say so myself) so that my upcoming blog posts have some semblance of order in the space-time continuum. (Naturally, I have no idea what a space-time continuum is, but it’s another one of those things I’ve always wanted to use in a post.)

However. There is some small possibility that you may become even more slightly kind of confused by the fact that that I’m rewinding time to such an extent that I’m actually rewinding it back to a point before a point I have already written about.

But really, the only reason I’m even rewinding things that far back (besides finally getting the chance to type space-time continuum) is that there were a few little pictures from our Airport Pick Up last week that I wanted to include but didn’t. And so before I fast forward to the rest of the rewound week, I wanted to rewind far back enough revisit those rewound and unvisited photos.

Got that?

Good. Then let’s get started.

Since the Norfolk airport wasn’t very busy when we arrived to pick up our very own personal Royal Couple, Steve and Sarah had plenty of space to walk forwards as well as backwards on the moving sidewalks, just to see what would happen. My family is easily entertained.

When we had finished our moving sidewalk entertainment extravaganza, we moved on to the gate area to await the Big Moment. Of course, when you’re at an airport greeting your son and new daughter-in-law for the first time since their wedding, you can’t possibly just stand there and smile quietly and demurely when they appear in view. No, you have to clap, scream, and cheer wildly.

Do you see the lady on the right who is turning around to stare? It’s only because we were being just a wee bit loud. (Yes, even my demure little self was being loudish. Right in public. It was historic, I tell you. Historic.)

A few minutes later, there was cause for even more staring as Steve tried to walk up the down escalator.

Well, actually, what he was trying to do was just stay in one place without moving up or down. The little girl to the right was obviously entrance with his efforts.

After getting home from the wild shenanigan-ish airport experience, we allowed the newlyweds a whopping 1.2 minutes of rest before we launched into the making of our pancake/bacon/scrambled eggs dinner which we whip up each year on the night we decorate the tree.

Meagan was also inducted into the Smith Family Christmas Antlers Club. I know she thought she became a Smith on July 23, 2011, but it actually didn’t become official until until she donned yon antlers.

Getting the ornaments on the tree was rather entertaining since Nathan was behaving in his best Golden Retriever Puppy Dog Fashion.

Then our (three) children instructed Steve and me to stand in front of the decorated tree and look entranced.

This is about as entranced as I get.

It was so much fun having Nathan and Sarah together again …

…along with our newest Smith.

Hard to believe that I’m no longer sitting beside a College Dude but a real married fella!

A married fella whose shorts-clad legs made a nice frame for the decorated tree.

This year, Steve went out and bought a third stocking for Meagan. I told him not to buy a nice one because it had to go with the ones we’ve had for Nathan and Sarah all these years. Meagan asked how long the Smith Kids would have stockings hung up for them and I told her that it would be a long, long time—probably until each of the Smiths Kids is at least 75. (Which would make Steve into into a rather ancient Stocking Filler but it’s a job he loves so we have decided not to fire him.)

Since we opted to wait for Nathan and Meagan’s arrival in order to do many of our Christmas traditions, we had to sort of smoosh the activities pretty closely together; therefore, the pancake/tree decorating night was followed immediately by the gift opening night.

Since Snowy considers himself to the Big Dog around here, his self-assigned task was to sit in the Man Chair with Steve and assist him with the reading of the Christmas Story. (He even donned his little Christmas sweater for the occasion which, unfortunately, detracted a bit from his Big Bad Dog Persona. But don’t tell him I said that.)

Also, unfortunately, Big Bad Dog Snowy was struck with a gargantuan doggie yawn just as the story was beginning, so it turned out that his inspiring presence in our midst wasn’t all that wasn’t that inspiring after all. Entertaining, yes. Inspiring, no.

The Smith Kids listened quietly to the story, a story they’ve heard every Christmas and many times in between--a story that still brings them to a place of peace.

And then we opened gifts. And talked a little. And laughed a lot.

We also (big surprise, I know) took a lot of pictures.

Here’s one I caught of the new sisters whom I have hereby dubbed, Smithsters. (Cute, I know.)

And then for the finale, my pastor’s kid children told me that it would be funny if I took a cookie and pretended like I was smokin’ a stogie. Can you tell I’m a bit out practice in the stogey-smokin’ department?

Oh well. It made them laugh.

Alrighty then! That’s it for today’s edition of the Calendar Confusion Jet Lagged Whiplashed Blog Experience.

And in future posts?

The story behind this picture. And much more!

Wedding Wednesday. Or Not.

2011-12-28T09:54:00.000-05:00

Happy Wednesday to you!

After giving it a little thought, I decided it would work out better schedule-wise to postpone this week's Wedding Wednesday just a little since I'm many days behind in posting and need to use today to catch up with what's been going on over the past week.

We may (or may not) have a surprise (or two) for you to reward you for waiting a little longer so please don't be too terribly awfully mad at me for the delay. I know we have some staunch Wedding Wednesday Aficionados out there which have made Wedding Wednesdays all the more fun.

Thanks to those of you who left comments about some of your favorite Christmas memories these year. I enjoyed reading each one so much and was alternating between smiles and teariness the whole time I read. Thanks again for sharing.

Okay. I know I said today was a catch up day but since I don't have my Catch Up Day Post written yet, please check back in a little while. I just wanted to get a little something written to let you all know Wedding Wednesday would be postponed.

Be back soon!

Update Paucity

2011-12-26T20:20:00.000-05:00

All is well here in Smithellaneous Land.

We've been coming and going in a variety of permutations and directions for the past three days and much of that time, my computer has not been able to get Internet access. (I'm writing from Steve's mom's comptuter at the moment.)

So at any rate, that explains my paucity of updates. (I've always wanted to use the word paucity so it looks like today was my big day!)

Much more to come as the week progresses...in the meantime, would anybody care to share what your favorite memory or part of Christmas was this year? A gift? A surprise event? An unexected blessing? A family stress that was less than last year? A sweet moment?

I always love to hear what's going on with you all!

Home Again

2011-12-25T07:11:00.001-05:00

We went to the airport on Friday to pick up some certain some ones.

Nathan’s magic gestures helped the tree to get decorated in no time flat.

Meagan was sweet to capture a picture of the four of us.

So thankful these feet are home again.

Wedding Wednesday: Dancing The Day Away

2011-12-21T14:39:00.001-05:00

Nathan and Meagan’s wedding and reception were both occasions for great joy.

However, after the smile-filled wedding was over,
and before the joyousness of the reception could commence,
the bridal party had to do a little lurking in the entry hall of the country club
so that they could be officially introduced at the proper time.

The ladies in lurking. . . er.. . waiting.

The whole bridal crew waiting for the big moment.

At last!
The Mister and the Missus make their entrance.

Although the reception food was fabulous,
I think Nathan and Meagan only ate about two bites each.
Too much excitement!
Too many people!
Too much joy!

Too much dancin’ to be done!

Meagan had two special men to dance with that day;
this man is the one who has known her and loved her the longest.

I had a special guy to dance with, too,
someone I have known, loved (and liked) for twenty-two years.
He was so sweet during the dance,
telling me I was doing great even though
I felt as graceful as a 7-legged, pregnant rhinoceros trying to tango.

And just think!

The Mister and Missus mentioned above are even now packing their
bags and preparing for Friday’s flight to Manteo.

Nathan is packing his special ping pong paddle and has challenged me to a duel to a death.
Or at least a duel to the point of him laughing so hard at me that he can no longer play.

That works, too.

(Photos by Front Porch Photography.)

Smiley Face. Sad Face. Christmas Space.

2011-12-20T09:43:00.001-05:00

Below you will see an entry from our December calendar. If you put on your Sherlock Holmes hat for a minute, you can probably figure out pretty quickly what the entry refers to. But for those of you whose Holmes Hats might be at the cleaners, I will go ahead and explain it for you. Because I’m nice like that.

December 23. Nathan and Meagan fly in from Florida. Hurray!

December 31. Nathan and Meagan leave for Florida. Boo hiss!

Steve and I have never had a daughter-in-law fly home for Christmas before and Sarah has never had the chance to be a Christmas sister-in-law, so we are all excited about welcoming Meagan to her first Smith Family Christmas. (And as much as we love Meagan, I did remind her to please remember to bring her husband with her.)

In the days leading up to their arrival, we’ve been putting a few little Christmas-touches on the house. We usually have our tree completely decorated by this point but we wanted to save some of it for Nathan and Meagan to do with us, so we put the ribbon on and will wait for their arrival to add the ornaments.

Steve was sitting on the couch watching TV while I took these pictures and I just want to say how considerate it was of him to be drinking something berry colored that perfectly matched the décor. (Let’s hear it for pomegranate/cranberry juice!)

More Smith-esque décor.

And now for a quick update on the pending blog makeover/changeover/do over. The guy who is helping me with the switch said he could do it this Thursday and Friday but I sort of panicked about doing something that big so close to Christmas so we are going to wait until after the first of the year.

Just a reminder that if you click on this blog during that period of time, you will not be able to access it because we will be working on the change. But trust me, the wait will be worth it. I am so excited!

And finally, here are a couple comments.

Connie said (about last week’s Wedding Wednesday), “What song is being sung when so many have their hands raised in praise?
I too will be sad when WW's are done. Hugs!”

Connie, I have to say that I don’t have any idea what song we were singing; my mind is a complete and total blur because I was in “wedding mode” rather than “music mode” at the time. I do remember the songs being lively and beautiful and very meaningful, even if I can’t remember the titles.
(And if Meagan reads this, maybe she could chime in with the titles.)

Gayle said, “Another great set of WW pictures! And the photographers are from the town right next to ours!! They did a great job and I'll certainly remember to recommend them if I know anyone needing a photographer. Do they have an actual business?”

Gayle, Kristen (the photographer) actually answered your question herself; I wanted to be sure you saw it so I’m re-posting it below.

Kristen wrote, “This is the photographer! Mrs. Becky, I've really enjoyed reading these posts, and seeing the day from your point-of-view! And thank you, as well, for mentioning us several times!

To Gayle in AL- What town do you live in, if that's not too personal? We started our own business this year, but currently 95% of our business is on location. I do have a small studio set-up in Ozark at our church. Our website is here.

An Introvert And The Homeless.

2011-12-19T09:46:00.001-05:00

I am an introvert. In fact, I am an inveterate introvert.

What makes that especially challenging is that as a pastor’s wife, I frequently find myself in new situations which require me to ramp up my introverted tendencies a bit and climb out of my quiet comfort zone. I often have to challenge myself to exude confidence and cheer even though I might feel underequipped to deal with all the things that land on my plate in any given week.

After thirty years of marriage to a preacher (with fifteen of those years spent traveling full time and being constantly with strangers), I have come a long way toward being confident and comfortable in settings that at one time were way out of my comfort zone. And yet those introverted tendencies persist.

Which is fine. Being introverted is not a weakness. It is who I am. And I love being introverted because a lot of cool qualities come with it. But my line of work is a bit of a challenge for an introverted personality because I am happiest being alone and what Steve and I do as pastors is all about being with people. Listening to people. Welcoming people. Helping people feel comfortable. Counseling people. Walking people through great joys and horrendous sorrows. Just. Being. There.

Although I have discovered great richness and satisfaction as a pastor’s wife, continuous people-ing will never be my natural habitat.

Last Monday, I was presented with yet another another opportunity to take a step outside of my introverted comfort zone. Twice during each winter, our church opens our facility to house and feed the homeless for a week at a time. Each church in the community that signs up for this outreach provides an evening meal, a place to sleep, overnight monitors, a hot breakfast and a sack lunch.

Monday was the night our family (along with another woman) volunteered to cook and serve our homeless guests and as I was at home preparing my part of the meal I was thinking, “I’m not sure what to talk about with these precious, displaced folks. What do we even have in common? We can’t discuss unclogging toilets, putting up a Christmas tree, cleaning out the garage or rearranging furniture. What topics can I think of to help them feel comfortable?”

Sure, I knew we had in common that we were all human beings; that was a no-brainer. I got that. And yet beyond that, what was there? I was fighting the niggling anxiety that I wouldn’t know what to say, wouldn’t know what to talk about while we ate, wouldn’t know how to form a conversational circle that would welcome everyone into its center.

Steve, Sarah and I got to the church early to get the food set out before the eight men and two women arrived. We all went through the line to get our food and then Sarah and I (along with Patty, the other helper/cook) sat down at a round table with the two women guests while Steve sat with some of the guys. I rearranged my napkin and plastic fork nervously while frantically searching my brain for some fascinating and fabulous conversation starter.

I needn’t have bothered.

One of the women glanced up from her plate and said, “That chocolate pie on the counter looks so good that I really thought about eating dessert first.”

Well. What is the most perfect thing for women to talk about who don’t know each other and don’t have a whole lot in common? Chocolate, of course.

So we talked about chocolate (in all its lovely permutations) for a little while and when that topic died down, there were miscellaneous memories to be told and various stories to be recollected. And then one of the ladies mentioned a new grandson of hers and we were off on that subject for a while, discussing how sweet babies are, and how fast they grow, and how amazed we are when we turn around and discover that our toddlers have mysteriously morphed into adults. And then somewhere in the course of the conversation, I mentioned that I used to clean houses for a living and that set us off on a whole new conversational tangent as we discussed various jobs we’d all worked in the past.

As the delicious meal and delightful conversation came to an end and I started clearing things away, it struck me that we really weren’t that different at all. Yes, I have a home and they don’t. Yes, I have my own bathroom and they don’t. Yes, our lives are very much not the same.

And yet our differences were not erased by what we don’t have in common, but what we do. We all have families and friends whom we love. We all have stories to tell from years gone by. We all have life experiences that have shaped us and made us who we are. And it was all those stories and life experiences that constructed the path that brought us to one particular evening, one particular table, one particular circle of fellow pilgrims. We sat and talked and were reminded in subtle, unspoken ways that we all laugh, we all cry, we all dream, we all mourn, we all hope. We are all the same in all the ways that are the most important.

It was an honor for me to share a meal with those women who don’t always know from day to day where they will sleep. It was an inspiration to witness their pluck and their courage and their sense of humor, to see how they refused to allow hard times to define them. They were mothers and friends and workers and dreamers and lovers of chocolate. They were a lot like me.

It was a good night. Good food. Good company. And another good chance to step out of my comfort zone and invest time and compassion into the lives of people who received help with dignity, people who shared their thanks freely, people who were hungry for far more than just food.

I hope that as they ate, they felt like God Himself had reached out to them through our compassion and through our casseroles. I hope they knew that they were important and that they were loved.

Because love is the sustenance that none of us can live without out. And that is the thing we all have in common.

________________________________________________________

Here are a few pictures; they aren’t the best quality because I was using my small camera and the lighting wasn’t good. But they will give you a little better insight into the evening.

Steve and Sarah are sitting with George, the man from our church who oversees our involvement in this national ministry called Room In The Inn. They’re waiting for the guests to arrive.

Several of the air mattresses spread throughout our youth hall.

This is the container that holds the clean sheets, towels and washcloths for the guests.

The local company who provides and cleans these linens doesn’t charge a penny for doing so which just proves all over again that there are still good hearts and good people in this world.

Just about time to eat!

As a shout out to the churches of the Outer Banks--most of them take turns provide housing and food to the homeless every night of the week from October through March. I’m proud of our churches out here and their congregations who take the time and have the heart to make a difference.

This ministry of Room In The Inn is also a national organization that you may be able to find in your own city.

Friday-Ness

2011-12-16T10:36:00.002-05:00

Yep. It’s Friday.
My to-do list is long, my house is dirty, my Christmas cards are unmailed, and exactly 1/2 of one percent of my Christmas shopping has been done.
Thankfully my back is doing a whole lot better, which will enable me to work fast and efficiently and get done all the things that I have left undone due to the fact that I was feeling undone by my back’s unhappy state of being. (Did you get all that?)
And so today instead of writing long-ly and lengthily, I will send you off on your weekend with some glimpses of Outer Banks loveliness to bring a smile to heart and peace to your soul.
Because in this busy season? Smiles and peace are a really good thing.

Try To NOT Smile When You Watch This. And An Upcoming Change.

2011-12-15T10:37:00.001-05:00

Every time I watch this video, a big ol’ goofy smile just appears on my face. (And the Southern accent just slays me,)

Changes . . .

The following two comments that were left recently are a perfect lead in to a certain announcement I have . . .

Lisa wrote, “Becky, I always love your posts and am a faithful reader but have to tell you that I hate the orange background. Sometimes it turns white and sometimes it does not. Maybe it's just my computer but can you look into it? Lisa.”

Jodi said, “Any new updates on the new commenting system?”

In answer to those questions—change is on the way!

Over the course of the next week or two, I am going to be transferring Smithellaneous over to a new self-hosted blog platform (Wordpress). Therefore Lisa, the background will be completely different and Jodi, the new commenting system will work wonderfully! In fact the new blog will be different on many levels, allowing much more freedom in design as well as offering helpful features and a lot of fun and cool aspects.

Currently, my blog is on a hosting platform called Blogger and while I have used it for two years, in recent months it has been making me just a wee bit crazy. I attempted to add a “threaded comment system” which would enable you (and me) to comment on each others comments and have a running dialogue which would build on the wonderful sense of community we have around here. However, Blogger would not allow me to install that system. Wordpress will.

Also, I have been having many other issues with Blogger, one of which has added three gray hairs and five new wrinkles, Once I get a new post up and see a little mistake or a missing word—when I go back in to change that one thing, it immediately throws the formatting off on the whole post and I have to spend a half hour trying to get the formatting (paragraphs, spacing, etc) back to where it was.

Wordpress offers thousands of “plug ins” and applications and design features and things that will gladden the artistic, creative heart of this blogger and make Smithellaneous a lovely and fun place to visit.

So with all the change, what will remain the same? The blog address. The writing. The pictures. The wonderful Smithellaneous community.

Having said all that, I do need to let you know ahead of time that this blog will have to go off line for a day or two in order to make the switch. So if you happen to come by and find nothing at all, have no fear. It’s a temporary situation that will soon be remedied. I don’t know right now exactly when that will happen but I will warn you a few hours (or a day) ahead of time.

I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am about taking this blog to a new level and implementing some changes I’ve been thinking about for a long time.

So . . . stay posted and I’ll keep you up to date as things progress.

And since I’m answering comments, let me close by addressing two more that have come in.

Gayle, yes Nathan and Meagan’s photographers do have an actual business. Here is their website. Thanks for passing their info along to people you know in the area.

Karen, commenting on the Musical Flash Mob I posted recently asked if I had seen the Flash Mob with the symphony.

I found the symphony you were talking about, Karen, and loved it! Thanks for the recommendation.

Karen also wrote, “By the way, does Sarah still mention hearing her hair? Mine has been bothering me lately and I happened to think of her!”

Karen, Sarah did have that problem when she first started wearing her hearing aids; however, she has not worn them in a while and seems to getting along quite well without them.

Wedding Wednesday: Hugs and More

2011-12-14T14:02:00.002-05:00

Before we start today’s Wedding Wednesday, I just want to mention that my back is still giving me fits so I reluctantly trundled off to the doctor yesterday. She gave me a super, mega, mambo muscle relaxer which when it kicks in, renders me incapable of thought, speech, or action. Well, maybe not completely incapable, because I am, after all, writing this blog. However, I’m not promising it will be entirely coherent. And I’m not promising that I will be able to stay awake during the whole th
(Three Hours Later.)
Did I miss anything? No? Oh good.
By the way, I think I have enough photos to finish out the month of December and then we will all observe a moment of silence before moving on to a new year and new Wednesday topics.
As we finish out these last couple of weeks, I will be repeating a few pictures here and there— some of them will be repeated because my memory sometimes fails to let me know that I’ve already posted them and some

will be repeated just because I especially like them.

So let’s get started with a sort of wacky photo, shall we?
This is the kind of sister-in-law that Nathan will
have to put up with for the next sixty years? Can you imagine?

Oh wait.
It appears as though the wild, wacky haired sister-in-law was actually
just showing off her wedding-esque hair extensions and that
Nathan’s other sister-in-law was able to whisk said extensions into a
lovely and elegant hair style.
Whew. That’s a relief.

Because we all know that Nathan would never fit into a
wacky family, now would he?

A few more shots from the ceremony.

I know Steve and I look rather sober but we’re actually quite happy.

Their first married hug. (One of many thousands of hugs to come.)

More hugs—Nathan and Sarah and Meagan and a groomsman.

The Parental Units swarm their beloved offspring . . .

. . . and even more hugging commences.

Later on at the reception, everyone signed a photo of the Bridal Couple.

Here’s Meagan with Chris, one of the two photographers.
It’s a funny picture to me because it looks like she’s trying to talk
him into some funky dance move and he’s just not buyin’ it.

And one of my all time favorites.

I’ll close with a few comments on Wedding Wednesdays.

Deb said, “Thanks for WW and I don't mean Weight Watchers! Do either of the "kids" have a blog? I thought maybe Meagan would document their new life together... considering her background, (giggle)

Nope, Deb, no blog so far, but I would sure love to read the thoughts and experiences of the new Mrs. Smith!
Becky M said, “I think this blog needs TWO special entries one from the groom and one from the bride, heck or a few posts, talking about their wedding and honeymoon and such. We have heard from Steve and Sarah and even Snowy. I think it is time to hear from our other memories of the family and what a great way then getting their inside scoop on their wedding and honeymoon....it is a thought anyway.

Becky, I’m all for it! Now we just have to talk the bride and groom into it!

Catherine said,“I love the pictures. Are they what a number of people took and have passed along to you? The detail of what is caught on film is just so exquisite.”

Catherine, thanks for the reminder to mention once again who the photographers are for these wedding photos. I may have taken a few of the ones I post, but about 95% of them were taken by the husband/wife team of Kristen and Chris Czuchra from Ozark, AL.

They are friends of Nathan and Meagan and the perfect choice to shoot their wedding. I also want to mention that the pictures I’ve been posting are a fairly small file size (as opposed to the originals) so they’re not a completely accurate reflection of the quality of the Czuchras’ work. But the poses and the pictures are gorgeous, none-the-less.

Here is the wonderful couple responsible for Wedding Wednesdays!

As always, thanks for stopping by and continuing to celebrate this special day with us.

What The Well Dressed, Middle-Aged Woman Is Wearing.

2011-12-13T11:38:00.001-05:00

On Sunday afternoons after worship team rehearsal, morning service and lunch, I try to take a nap. I always put on something comfy for my nap because taking a nap in non-comfy clothes is just wrong on so many levels.

For my comfy clothing selection, I especially like sweat suits. They feel like pajamas, but if your doorbell rings unexpectedly, you can answer the door in your quasi-pajama, napping-ish clothes and no one is the wiser.

So. I took my Sunday nap cozily ensconced in my sweat suit. Ahh.

Then I got up, put on my fuzzy socks and puttered around the house for a little while. Ahhh again.

Then Steve took Sarah to youth meeting. I puttered some more. Continued ahhh.

Then Sarah called and said she needed a ride home. Since Steve had the Dropping Off Duty, I elected myself for the Picking Up Duty. But it was a wee bit chilly outside, so I pondered the coat closet selection for a moment before finally settling on a gray, fur-like coat someone in the church had passed along to me. I’d been wanting to find a time to wear it and so I thought, “What better time than now?”

So I plopped the dressy coat on over my sweat suit. And then I realized that I couldn’t go out on the cold sidewalk with just fuzzy socks on, so I put some gold flip flops on over the fuzzy socks to keep the bottoms of my delicate little feet from getting frostbite from our wickedly cold, bitter Southern winters.

And then I grabbed my “mom purse” and I was good to go.

I picked Sarah up, brought her home and we got out of the car to go into the house. She glanced over at me to say something and then looked again. A little closer.

And she said something like, “Um. Mom, do you know how you’re dressed?”

What? The girl doesn’t think her mama is rockin’ this style?

I just don’t know what’s wrong with this younger generation.

The Sea. The Sky. The Sonset.

2011-12-12T09:43:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago, I wrote about our family’s jaunt to Jeanette’s Pier to enjoy the sea, the sky, and the sunset. While we were there, I took one of my favorite pictures of Sarah.

I took a lot of other pictures that made me happy.

But those weren’t the only pictures from the evening that I loved.

Shortly after we got there, I happened to see an elderly mom and her son who happened to have arrived about the same time we did. I couldn’t help but notice them several times over the next few minutes because they seemed to have such a sweet, tender relationship between. And the more I watched them, the more I missed a certain fella of mine . . .

. . . because if there was one thing that is true in this life, it’s that mama’s can miss their kids so badly it actually hurts sometimes.

Anyway, since I had been watching this lovely pair throughout the evening and since they just happened to leave the pier at the same time as we did, I positioned myself nonchalantly behind them so that I could take some pictures of them as they left.

I have to confess that as I continued to take photos, I had to wipe away tears between each shot because I could so easily picture this same scene being played out thirty years from now--just with different characters. I could picture Nathan taking me to view the sea, the sky, and the sunset, buying me a little something at the gift shop, and then guiding me gently down the pier back toward the car.

Me in the sunset of my years. He in the prime of life.

The roles between us would be altered by then, with him taking my hand to hold me steady--a mirror image of those long gone years when I was the one grasping a small hand in order to hold my wobbly toddler upright.

So much else will have changed between the now and the then. The world will be a much different place, maybe even unrecognizable. Age and passing years will have erased youthfulness from our faces. I will be full of years and Nathan will be full of adulthood, juggling the joys, sorrows and challenges of a family, of a career, of life. But one thing that won’t change in thirty years will be the love between a mother and a son.

Sunset years. The prime of life. Hands held. Joy spoken. Love given.

The sea. The sky. The sonset.

Flash Mobbin'

2011-12-10T06:15:00.000-05:00

I love these flash mob things because you just can't help but smile when watching them. This one features a Christmas song; its starts slow and mellow and gets really fun and funky by the end of it.

Someday I think it would be fun to be in a flash mob. Maybe Sarah, Steve and I could go down to the local McDonalds, seat ourselves in random places and at a certain, secret signal, all leap up and burst forth into song.

Or not.

I Miss My Memory The Most. And Some Waterfront Photos.

2011-12-08T10:41:00.003-05:00

You know how they say that when you get a little older (like almost fifty. like me.) your memory becomes a little less than . . . shall we say . . . stellar?

Well, I think I’m there.

How do I know that? Let me count the ways.

Well, actually, let me count just one way.

This morning I saw some pictures in a folder on my computer and despite staring at them for the better part of a few minutes, I could not for the life of me recall if I had already posted them. Part of my diminishing brain thought that I had posted them, but when I scrolled through some recent entries I didn’t see them.

And since the part of my (diminishing) brain that said I had not posted them won out, I am hereby posting them forthwith.

If you’ve already seen these pictures and it turns out that the confused part of my brain won this particular memory clash? Please don’t mention it. Just let me stay blissfully unaware and ignorant of the fact that I’m re-posting pre-posted pictures.

Or not.

Here’s that same picture (one of my favorite ones I’ve ever taken) with a little extra editing.

Wedding Wednesday: One Certain, Shining Moment

2011-12-07T10:39:00.004-05:00

Sisters.

A brother. (And husband-to-be and brother-in-law to be.)

Dads.

Moms.

Friends.

All getting ready . .

for one. . .

certain . . .

shining . . .

moment.

A Brag Table (Because A Good Stolen Idea Is Still A Good Idea)

2011-12-06T09:05:00.003-05:00

One of my favorite bloggers is Jon Acuff. Besides the fact that he’s a pastor’s son (hurray for pastor’s kids!) he’s profound, wise, and funny, many times all at the same time.

A few weeks ago he wrote this post about A Brag Table and not only did I love it a lot, I also loved the comments that the post received.

Because basically? He gave every one of his readers a chance to brag a little. About themselves.

And it didn’t matter if someone said, “I was the emcee for the Harlem Globetrotters” or “I just managed to bake my first edible loaf of bread,” every single brag was welcome. And I loved it. I loved reading words by people who took the chance to throw modesty to the wind (for a change) and mention things they were proud of.

So today? It’s your turn. It’s time for my wonderful Smithellaneous readers to chime in and share one (or two or three) things you’re proud of. I’ve included a few sample comments from Jon’s blog to give you the basic idea and jump start your thinking (and bragging) process.

1. I just got my first apartment! I'm learning to be a grown up!

2. I acted really well in a play I was in!

3. I rebounded after a mental breakdown last year. I chose not to go back to the stressful job, but have instead begun writing about the whole ordeal with the hope that I can help others avoid such a situation (mainly caused by stress and overwork). I have produced 2 eBooks and working on another!

4. I am a new mom to a 2 month old who has been through the ER, NICU, thrush, feeding probs, allergies and reflux... And I proud to have made it through the first two months because they have been the hardest and most glorious of my life!

5. I got out of bed today. No scoffing. It was a major accomplishment. MS has been kicking pretty hard lately.

6. I won over thirty trophies for soccer when I was in elementary
school! Seriously, I did.

7. Last week I made it to all of my college classes, did all my homework, worked as a tutor for elementary school kids, and started a new side business! I've never felt so accomplished- I did all that despite my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome!

8. I organize Thanksgiving dinners for 5 needy families. My Bible study group cooks, bakes, fries, and delivers everything needed for a feast.

9. Years ago I discovered as a young mother; we were afraid to "brag" about our husbands or our children, so we got into the habit of complaining about them. Finally I spoke -up and we decided that it was okay to share positive things.I have been married 30 years. I have two children who are responsible adults with jobs. They take their Christian walk seriously. I have a challenging job that keeps me dependent on God.

Leave a brag and then come back later and see what your fellow Smithellaneous peeps are proud of. Can’t wait to hear from you!

One More Thing. . .

One of the great things about blogging is the networking that goes on and the support that bloggers give each other. And knowing that and trying to always do that, yesterday I still somehow managed to overlook two opportunities to do that.

Opportunity One: When I posted our final Christmas picture in yesterday’s blog, I neglected to mention that I had sent an unedited version of that photo to Pam, a long time, loyal reader, and asked her to work her magic on it with her great editing skills. I’ve asked her over the past several months for several little favors like that and she has always so sweet to work on my projects, even in the midst of her incredibly hectic life.

And so I would like to say a great big public thank you to Pam and also point you to her Photography Business Website and her blog. Pam is a massively gifted photographer and I know you’ll love her work. Her pictures always make me smile.

I’ve tried to convince her to come live in Manteo so she can give me photography/Photoshop lessons but for some reason she seems to feel compelled to stay in Georgia. Sigh.

Opportunity Two: The other person I mentioned yesterday (without posting a blog link) was Sue Guenther, a woman who has been through so much hardship and yet maintains a sparkling, vibrant, faith-filled attitude. If you want to read some inspirational, funny, excellent writing, stop by her blog and spend a few minutes there. You’ll leave uplifted—I promise you that.

So Pam and Sue, thanks for being such great ladies; I’m ever so happy to have you in the Smithellaneous Family.

The Missing Dog

2011-12-05T13:40:00.001-05:00

Since a couple of you signed in at the post below to ask where Snowy was in our Christmas photo, I figured I should report that Snowy is fine and dandy. The reason we didn't put him in this year's photo is that it's harder to get a good shot because when the humans are looking somewhat passable, Snowy is usually staring straight at the ceiling. Or yawning. Or sniffing. Or scratching. (Or some other dog activity.)

Since this photo is for our Christmas card, we have our picture on the front (as well as a couple shots from Nathan and Meagan's wedding) and a picture of Snowy on the back.

He will be so happy to know that you all were concerned about him!

The (Dreaded) Family Christmas Photo

2011-12-05T10:57:00.001-05:00

So. Raise your hand if you absolutely love taking a family Christmas photo.

Hello? No one?

Maybe you feel more like this when you think about the whole subject?

Actually the two of them aren’t as morose as they look. I told them to sit down and “not smile or anything” since I was just snapping a few shots to see what the light looked like. And so? They didn’t smile. (Or anything.)

Here are a few outtakes from our recent photo session.

And before I show you the shot we chose, I thought it would be fun to scroll backwards in time a tad and look at some older Smith Shots.

This is the year we thought we would be radical and wear a non-Christmas color for our photo. I mean, really. How many families do you know who take a Christmas photo wearing pink? Not many, that’s who.

Back in the day, we were really livin’ on the edge.

Here we are in a more traditional color. This was not our final shot but since I couldn’t find the final one, I’m just using this not-so-great one.

Do you see how I’m holding Snowy’s paw, just like he’s my own little child? Well, yeah. He is.

(His leg is shaved because he’d had an IV for his kidney stone surgery.)

Last year. This isn’t the Final Shot either, but I can’t seem to find the real picture. I knew this would be our last Christmas photo as a foursome . . .

. . . because change was in the air! (We added a certain young lady to one of those shots even though she wasn’t yet an Official Smith.)

And finally? Our family photo from this year. Without Nathan. Sniff. But when Nathan and Meagan come home for Christmas, we’ll get a photo with the Smith Fivesome. (Because five is a much nicer number than four—at least when it pertains to our family.)

In Other News . . .

If you’ve been reading at Smithellaneous for a year (or two or three) you doubtless recognize the name SueG as one of my most frequent (witty and wise) commenters. She’s been having a lot of health issues lately and so hasn’t been able to be at the computer as much. When the following comment came through from her this morning, it just made my entire day. She wrote,

Stopping by again to see if there is an update on the back situation and perhaps a few photos of the church variety show.
Not yet.

So, I am hoping you feel better, that the show was magnificent, and that you will post something soon.

No pressure, huh? --Sue

Sue, happily my back is feeling much, much better—hallelujah for a bad back transforming itself into a good(er) back.

And as for Smittys—we had an absolutely marvelous time. Although I don’t have all the pictures together that I want to post, here are a couple to start with.

The church auditorium before it all began.

A skit Sarah was in about Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.

A musical number featuring creative dance.

I don’t yet have any pictures of Smitty on the bicycle but you can be assured they will be posted as soon as I get them from the other photographer.

To Sue—and to all of you—thanks for stopping by Smithellaneous today. I appreciate you so much!

An Unhappy Back. A Fallish Farewell. A Strange Picture.

2011-12-03T18:35:00.001-05:00

Life has been way busier than usual these past two weeks and right on cue, when busyness increases and stress ramps up, my back throws a little conniption (not to mention a hissy fit) and forces me to hobble hither and yon like an ancient lady. I’ve taken a few muscle relaxers and pain killers and tried to take it easy during the 17 minutes per day that I have free for such glorious pursuits.

Thankfully, I’m feeling better this evening which is good because tomorrow we have our regular service in the morning followed by our annual Smitty’s Christmas Variety Show in the evening. Which I am overseeing. And playing accompaniment for three singers. And putting together the graphics and media for each act. And corralling performers. And doing a host of miscellaneous show-related things too numerous to enumerate.

Good thing I love it!

(And may I just mention that we are reprising an act from last year where Steve rides into the auditorium on a red bicycle built for two wearing red suspenders and quirky hat? And there’s a hippo on the back of the bike? And the parson and the hippo end up doing a little soft shoe dance up on the stage when they finally get up there?)

Don’t you all just want to visit Manteo just in order to see that showy, Smitty-esque spectacle?

So. Even though we are all heading speedily (and hopefully merrily) into the Christmas season, I took a few Fall-ish pictures last week that I want to go ahead and post, just so that Fall doesn’t think it’s getting booted out without at least one more appreciative glance at its loveliness.

There now! We can all head right into the Christmas with visions of sugar plums—instead of pumpkins—dancing in our heads.

But wait! What’s this?

Why are Mr. and Miss Smith posing in such an oddly posed pose? We may never know. (Or then again, we may know. And we may even write about it. If anyone is interested.)

Wedding Wednesday: Honeymoon Stuff. Wedding Stuff. Good Stuff.

2011-11-30T10:34:00.001-05:00

We all know that brides and grooms want to look their best
on their honeymoon. Here is my favorite son workin’ his hair
so that he can attempt to measure up to the loveliness of his bride.

I do think he ended up looking pretty fine!
(But then I’m his mom, and it’s my job to think that way.)

I love to see happiness shining from these faces.

This is one of my favorite pictures from their honeymoon.
And may I just say that I’m still amazed that my son was even on his honeymoon?
Is it possible that I am old enough to have a son of honeymoonin’ age?
Sigh. It seems that I am.

How is it possible that these little hands . . .

. . .turned into these big, ol’ hands?
And wearing a wedding ring, besides.

Sigh. (Again.)

Nathan and Meagan had a rip-roarin’ time going hither and yon to wherever
it was that they were going hither and yon to.
(How is that for a sentence rife with descriptive details?)

But wait!
What’s this?
Why do they have on their sad faces?

What could possibly be wrong?

Ahh. It turns out that these pictures were taken at the end of their honeymoon.

But those two don’t stay sad for long.
As they arrived home, it was all smiles.
It was all thumbs up.
It was all good.

Here are a few more shots from the wedding.

For some reason, whenever I look at this picture,
I think it looks like Nathan and Meagan with their six children.
And then that makes me smile.
(Crazy, I know.)

On another note . . .

I want to thank everyone for your sweet comments about the Thanksgiving story. (At last count, over 50 comments have come in from those segments.) Thank you for sharing stories from your own lives about times when you reached out to others in need, and thanks for sharing about other times when you’ve been the one in need of peace and comfort.

I feel blessed to be a part of this community and I feel strongly that the best part of blogging is not just telling my stories, but getting to hear the stories you tell. Thanks again to all who have shared.

Another Mother’s Nathan

2011-11-29T12:18:00.001-05:00

If you haven’t yet read yesterday's post, you might want to do that first because reading this entry won’t make much sense without it.

So. I’m assuming you would love for me to tell you just who our Very Special Thanksgiving Mystery Dinner Guests were?

Our Guests were eight men from Outer Banks Dare Challenge, a local drug and alcohol rehab center housing guys who have been off alcohol or drugs for just a few days or weeks. We figured that on Thanksgiving, those men would not only be missing their families but also missing a homey setting in which to celebrate Thanksgiving.

And so when we extended the invitation, we were thrilled when the Director of the Center (the guy standing in the white jacket) said the guys could come and spend the afternoon with us. (Note: We got permission from all the guys to take—and post--these photos.)

Our goal was to pull out all the stops and make these men feel extra valued; hence, the table done up in a lovely fashion with a lot of extra special touches. I can’t begin to tell you how incredibly appreciative, well mannered and fun they were to be with.

When we went around the table and asked what each of them was thankful for, one of them said how nice it was to be treated like a regular person and not like a drug addict.

Another man said that even though they’d had several Thanksgiving meals at churches during the week, this one was the best because they were in a real home and they all missed that.

And later on, another man told us that he would never, ever forget this day.

And this woman? She didn’t seem to have a lot to say. I guess maybe she’s just not used to being around cameras a lot. (Yeah, right.)

The menu featured turkey, ham, sweet potato casserole, marinated green beans with Romano cheese, broccoli salad, yeast rolls, homemade stuffing, homemade chunky applesauce, potatoes and gravy, a huge relish tray and four kinds of dessert. And boy oh boy, could those guys ever eat! It made my mama heart happy to see them enjoy every single bite.

After the meal was over, we took ourselves out into the beautiful Carolina sunshine for some horseshoes and badminton. Sarah was right in the thick of it—friendly, cheery and a temporarily adopted little sister for all these guys who were far from their homes and far from their own families.

We saw some pretty amazing sporty/dance moves take place throughout the afternoon.

Sarah got some coaching from one of the guys . . .

. . . and left the badminton game with a lot more badminton knowledge than she’d had going in.

From badminton playing, she moved over to stand with her grandpa and watch the guys play horseshoes.

The day was filled with good conversation . . .

. . . and good “hanging out” time.

And when our eight new friends had driven away,they left behind a glow that filled our home.

They also left behind a pile of place cards, with each of their names representing a special person who touched our hearts and made our Thanksgiving memorable. (And to help them remember the day even better, I’m going to put all the pictures I took that day on a CD and make copies to give to each of the fellas. Since Steve goes out there every Thursday to teach--and also takes a guy to lunch each week--he can be the Memories On CD delivery person.)

I want to close by providing a little extra background as to why we decided to host this meal. While I can’t speak for Steve, the meal was important for me because it gave me a chance to do something at Thanksgiving for someone else’s son.

I knew that most of those men at our table had a mother somewhere in this country who had set a Thanksgiving table, even as a part of her heart had mourned the fact that the son she loved wasn’t able to be there, that he wasn’t going to get to be in a real home for a real family Thanksgiving.

And so, since I didn’t have my own son to cook for this Thanksgiving, this was my year to pay it forward, to pay it back, to pay it in whatever direction I could find. In short, this was my Thanksgiving to cook for another mother’s Nathan, in the hopes that when she heard the story of where her son had spent Thanksgiving, she would feel her load lighten a little and she could breathe a prayer of thanks that the son she loved so much had received the love she wasn’t able to give in person.

There all sorts of reasons that mothers sat at Thanksgiving tables this year without the presence of the children they loved. Some kids have faraway jobs, some have insufficient finances to travel, some have no time off work, some are away in the military, and some might even possibly be in a drug and alcohol rehab center. And since I’m a long time member of the cancer community, I also know that some of the seats at Thanksgiving tables were empty this year because of the saddest reason of all--a son or daughter didn’t survive their battle with cancer.

There are so very many reasons that people we love go missing from our holiday tables. And that gives us so many more reasons to show acceptance and love to the people we have nearby. Because somewhere, they are being missed. Somewhere, another mother’s Nathan is wishing that her child could be home.

And last Friday, at 1 pm? Her son was at home. At our home.

And for that, I am thankful.

Mystery (Half Way) Solved

2011-11-28T17:19:00.000-05:00

Since I've gotten a few comments rife with suspense and trauma, I will tell you one little part of the mystery tonight. It was NOT Nathan and Meagan. (Sadly.)

And it was a LOT of people.

Mystery will be completely solved tomorrow!

Mystery Dinner Guests.

2011-11-28T10:38:00.001-05:00

Since our Thanksgiving crowd this year was looking a little meager (just the three of us plus Steve’s parents), we decided we needed to invite a few other folks to dinner. So we hopped to it and invited some Dinner Guests. Mystery Dinner Guests. Special Mystery Dinner Guests.

Due to certain scheduling considerations, the feast with the aforementioned Guests didn’t take place until Friday at 1 pm which gave our family all day Thursday and Friday morning to devote to prep time. Major, major prep time. Because did I mention that these Dinner Guests were special?

Our preparation unfortunately included the unavoidable showdown with Sir Turkey. Since I am not a big fan of unbaked fowl, I was thankful for the presence of my mother-in-law who strode right into the kitchen and showed that ol’ bird who was boss. If you haven’t noticed, an unbaked turkey is sort of pale and squishy and has mysterious cavities and protuberances. As a result, I don’t really love getting within five miles of one, let alone touching one. (For a funny Smith story about Steve and I cooking a turkey with a “goiter,” you can go back and read this post.)

So Vernie did the hard work while I cheered her on and steered clear of Mr. Tom.

Other prep work involved cubing French bread and corn bread for the dressing . . .

. . . and dirtying every pan in the house. Thrice.

Potatoes were purchased and flung on to a crowded cabinet to be dealt with at the appropriate moment. (And may I just mention that Sarah peeled a total of sixteen potatoes all by herself!)

My wonderful and wondrous husband moved all the stuff out of the kitchen so that he could sweep and mop the floor.

The whole Smith Cooking Crew joined forces to cut, chop, stir, and blend. . . .

. . . and also deal with the green beans.

After many hours of running hither (and also yon), I declared that it was time for a 20-minute siesta and collapsed gratefully on the couch.

I was not alone.

Snowy just made himself right at home, resting his tiny behiney on my conveniently placed head.

I am always glad to be of assistance.

After Snowy’s and my mini respite, it was time to get up and launch into the Transformation of the Thanksgiving Table.

The Smith Men got out the “good china” which is not actually china at all but twenty-four place settings of plain white dishes we got many years ago for $65 on clearance. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love a bargain?)

The goal was to make the table as lovely as possible for our Guests.

Supervising all our work had worn Snowy slap out so he laid himself down in the front hall for a post-morning, early afternoon, noon-ish type snooze. Midway through the snooze, the doorbell rang, signaling to all that the Mystery Dinner Guests had arrived!

Snowy woke right up, gazed thoughtfully at the front door and inquired, “What kind of guests could possibly rate high enough to merit such a huge Smith Extravaganza? I just can’t wait to see who comes through that door!”

To be continued. . .

A Boy. And His Dog. And Some Carrots. (A “Snowy Writes” Selection From the Archives)

2011-11-26T06:48:00.000-05:00

While I take some time to emerge from my turkey/pecan pie coma and get a new post written, I’m featuring one from the archives for you to enjoy once more. Sarah and I were just talking about this post yesterday and saying how much we both really loved it. (Note: Photography is a bit blurry but the cuteness still shines through. Take it away, Snowy . . .

Hi. Snowy here.

A couple weeks ago, Nathan came home from college for a few days. Whenever he’s home, he and I like to hang out together--since we’re related and everything. Also we both have our distinguished college backgrounds in common so we’re sort of, kind of (but not really) like fraternity brothers.

A lot of times when he comes home, Nathan watches sports on TV. I like to sit beside him and help him watch. I’m good like that.

Well, one night we were sitting on the couch (as per usual), and he got up for a minute to go to the kitchen. And you’ll never guess what he did! (Insert excited voice here.)

He left his bag of baby carrots behind! On the couch! Right in front of me!

I watched the carrots very, very carefully. I did not (of course) want them to escape before Nathan returned. Nathan had put a lot of trust in me and I intended to do my job well. And with great bravery. And also with élan. (Whatever élan is.)

The only problem? I love baby carrots. And putting me in charge of the carrots was like asking Butch Cassidy to babysit the bank. Not such a good idea.

I looked at the kitchen door to determine whether or not Nathan was returning yet. He wasn’t.

So I stealthily belly crawled a little closer to the carrots—just to be sure that they were still safe and everything. I also kept a nervous eye on the kitchen door.

When, oh when, was he going to come back? The temptation was getting to be too much! Just. Way. Too. Much. I figured I’d better take a few steps back so as to put some distance between the Evil Carrot Temptation and myself.

Then I crept forward again and pondered just how long it might take my sharp little teeth to tear into that bag.

Finally it was just too much.

“Nathan!” I hollered. “Get back in here! I can’t take it anymore!”

Nathan returned post-haste. And also fast. He scurried right back in and sat on the couch.

But also? He started watching the game again and left the carrots right smack dab in front me! Right smack dab in front of my very own person! Right in The Danger Zone! The Temptation Zone! The Zone of Carrot Wanting-ness Zone!

What’s a doggie to do when that kind of temptation comes into his life?

I did the only thing I could.

I admitted my weakness. I admitted I needed help. I went over to him and said, “Bro, we need to talk--man to man, brother to brother. I’m asking you to please not leave me alone with the carrot sticks any more. The temptation is just too much for my small, cute soul to handle.”

Nathan listened very carefully as I poured out my earnest doggie heart. He put into practice all the psychological insight he’s gained during the last four years of college. He delved deep into my psyche and got to the root of why I was so attracted to carrots. We had bonding time, man. Real (and also genuine) bonding time.

Well! I felt quite sure that after sharing such a profound moment, he would clearly understand that it would be a swell idea to have a little Sharing of the Carrots Ceremony in order to cement the special ambient aura of the moments we had just experienced together.

Sometimes when I pass gas there is also a special ambient aura but I don’t think we need to get into that right now. Oh wait. Maybe we just did. (Never mind.)

So anyway, Nathan put the carrots in his lap so he could get to them easily. I watched interestedly and intently, waiting for some sort of Big Action on the part of My Boy.

And then? Action happened!

He ate a carrot. And I watched. (Not the kind of action I was anticipating.)

He looked at me with his Patented Nathan Teasing Grin and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Snowy. Did you want a carrot?”

Um. What do you think?

He looked over and said to Mom, “Isn’t this funny? Snow thinks he wants a carrot.”

Then Nathan put the carrots behind me, opened his mouth and said, “But see? I don’t have any carrots.”

By that point, I’d had it. I had had enough. I was sick and tired of all his teasing and tom foolery and I was ready to have myself a stinkin’ carrot, dagnabbit! (Dagnabbit is the only swear word pastor’s dogs are allowed to say.)

Well, I just went right ahead and cast aside all usual traces of my Mr. Nice Guy persona and I got right up in Nathan’s grill and I told him a thing or two (or three) about how rude he was being in not offering me a carrot. I think I really intimidated him. Really, really bad.

I mean, just look at the intimidated face.

I didn’t want to scare him too much with further intense and reproving remonstrations so I finally sat back down. But I kept a close eye on him. I didn’t know what was coming next but I wanted to be ready. This was Big. Stuff. This was Carrot Time!

And you know what? Something exciting did take place! The very next thing I knew, Nathan was offering me a carrot! In his mouth! I stood on my hind legs in great shock and astonishment. (And also, to get a better look at the precise placement of yon carrot.)

Then I backed off, sat down, and pondered the situation for a moment.

Hmmm. What to do? What to do?

I tilted my head a little the other way, which always helps me to think more clearly.

Then I made my move! Stealthy as a cat, fast as a cougar, quiet as a, um, quiet animal . . . I moved in close. I sprang! I lunged! I got to within snatching range of the Desired Carrot-esque Object!

And then? In one blindingly speedy movement, I grabbed that ol’ carrot right out of Nathan’s mouth! And I raced feverishly away with my prize in hand. (Er. Mouth.)

It sure did taste good.

I just love it when my brother comes home.

Wedding Wednesday: Writing Memories

2011-11-23T10:52:00.002-05:00

You are being personally welcomed to today’s Wedding Wednesday
by the the bride and groom themselves!

They’re saying, “Come on in! It’s gonna be fun!”

Of course, wherever these two go, fun follows.

In fact, when Steve was asked to lead in prayer before the luncheon,
everyone closed their eyes except for one
certain groom. He couldn’t seem to stop grinning long enough to engage in
any prolonged eye closing.

(And yes, that is the mother of the groom you see holding a
pocketbook twice the size of the Titanic. I carried a small, elegant purse for the
ceremony but I started breaking out in hives at the thought
of being separated from my jumbo “mom purse” for any length of time.
I might need an intervention.)

During the luncheon, the bride and groom made the rounds, hugging folks . . .

. . . and showing off those certain items of jewelry that had
transformed them into Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Smith.

Then it was time for a little dancing. . .

. . . before heading outside with their assorted attendants
for a few more poses and pictures.

And also, some kissing.

But a bride and groom can only be all lovey-dovey for so long before the
Real World intrudes. And in this case, the Real World arrived in the
form of Nathan’s groomsmen.

Can you tell that Meagan loves hanging out with these fun fellas?

Of course, she enjoys this fun fella quite a bit, too.

In fact, if there was one word to sum up the
relationship that Nathan and Meagan have, it would be fun.

Big, big, fun.

The two of them are really funny on their own but when you put them together?
They are a HOOT!

When I look at their faces, I can’t help but think of the song I wrote for their ceremony,
”Love is the song, we are the melody.
Today we’ll start writing our own memories.”

Let the memory writing begin.

Thanksgiving

Gail left a comment asking if Nathan and Meagan would be here for Thanksgiving.

This year, they will celebrate Thanksgiving with Meagan’s family in Florida and then at Christmas, they will come and be with us.

I thought I had come to grips with the whole idea of this being our first Thanksgiving without Nathan until I found myself crying in the potato chip aisle of the grocery store last night. I had paused to choose some chips and happened to see one of Nathan’s favorite flavors: Kettle Cooked Sea Salt and Cracked Pepper. They reminded me of when he lived at home and always jumped around in fine Golden Retriever puppy fashion whenever a new bag of chips was opened. He’d say, “Oooh, Mom! Let me have the first chip! The first chip in the bag always tastes the best!”

That little routine always made me smile.

But last night? When I saw those chips and heard his wacky little chip spiel in my head? I will admit I shed a few mommy tears right there next to the Sea Salt.

Although it won’t be easy having this first holiday without my beloved firstborn (and his marvelous bride) here, it makes it a lot more bearable knowing that he will be surrounded by in-laws who love him and treat him as one of their own. He is so blessed to be a part of that wonderful family and my mama heart is full, knowing that he will be surrounded by plenty of laughter and good times. And also really great food. (Although probably not Sea Salt chips.)

In closing, we have made some extra, extra special plans for our Thanksgiving meal which I’ll write about after it’s all over!

Homemade Harps. Homegrown Angels.

2011-11-22T10:42:00.001-05:00

Last week, Sarah and three other English students wrote a short play that they will be performing today for their class. Sarah’s role is to be an angel which presented her with the challenge of finding clothing angelic enough to suit the play but not so angelic that she would feel a wee bit foolish wearing it around school all day.

And her other assignment? To have at least two angelic props in her possession while acting in the play.

Hence, last night the Smith house was filled with myriad harp designing/building/painting activities, as well as the trying on of various “angelic but not too angelic” clothing ensembles.

At 9 pm, Sarah had replaced her angel garments with her comfy pj shirt, but bed was still in the far away future because there was harp painting yet to be done.

This is the Harp Architect.

He drew the harp out on a piece of art canvas, cut it out with with one of his handy dandy, manly man tools, and then attached strings to the whole kit and caboodle. When Sarah had asked him to help make a harp, she was just picturing one sketched out on a piece of paper with a few strings drawn in for a quasi realistic effect.

However, she had failed to reckon with the fact that her dad is a hands on kind of guy and when someone needs assistance with making or designing something, he is 100% invested in it. (And very, very happy about it.)

And so Sarah’s Harp Production turned into an evening-long project.

But it was worth it.

This morning, our homegrown angel took her homemade harp and flew away to school. (Well, sort of.)

Isn’t the lacey dress a lovely, angelic touch?

The only problem with homegrown angels? When they vacate the premises, the premises feel rather . . . well . . . vacated.

So Snowy and the empty Smith house will patiently spend the whole day waiting for the homegrown angel to return, knowing that she will bring sparkling smiles, luminescent laughter and golden stories with her when she comes.

So thankful for our homegrown angel.