A Merry Charlotte Christmas

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.

A Smithellaneous Change

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

Nine years ago this month, I started blogging.

Wedding Wednesday: The Manteo Edition

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.

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

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.

The Saga of the Slimy Oysters

(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!

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.