Champagne Memories

When I review the last eighteen years of holidays, I truly don't know where the time has gone. Some days I wish I could crawl back into my little world all those years ago and burrow with my papooses.

I can remember the sound of the rocker like it was yesterday and the warmth of them swaddled in their favorite blankets. I can hear the friendly drop-ins for coffee and the enlightening words of the friends informing me that my youngest was two houses down lobbying for cookies. Naked. I can see our dear neighbor chipping golf balls as I watch from my front porch swing my oldest of 6 years discuss life with him. And my heart dances when I think of my daughter's maraca introduction that founded all future half-pint performances.

The memories bubble up like champagne at News Years Eve. All sparkly and delicious. So here's to the years of splendid champagne memories.

Cheers!

These Are The Moments

This is a little snip-it of the memorial service we had for Sam's dad. We will not forget George's song of life and may it continue to bring smiles to us, the German Marines and generations to come.

Coffee Talk, Uncensored

Many things are brewing in my coffee pot brain lately. I keep asking for decaf but it seems that only expresso is being served. I'll begin by soberly saying that I am so thankful that God is the giver and taker of life. It's easy to convince ourselves otherwise, but what a relief to know this truth.

Psalm 139:13-16

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

And then John 14:1-6

1 "Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God,
believe also in me.

2 In my Father's house are many rooms;
if it were not so, would I have told you that
I go to prepare a place for you?

3 And when I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come again and will take you to myself,
that where I am you may be also.

4 And you know the way where I am going."

5 Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going;
how can we know the way?"

6 Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth,
and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.


But why does the end feel more like a four letter word at times than not? I think we have to remember that when death confronts us, whether it be from a distance or up close and personal, we are affected, no matter how far under the covers we crawl. We are affected because it brings the Giver and Taker up close and personal.

Tonight, Sam and I went to a "love differently" sort of thing. The evening topic was voicing needs, one of them being the need to grieve. The speaker noted that Americans don't really mourn the way that people from other nations do. Why I wondered. Do we feel like we need to be politely sad? Possibly. Are we so politically correct that honesty is no longer acceptable when it comes to our emotions? Many times, yes. Could it be that followers of Christ have a sense of peace that others don't? Certainly. But grieving is important. I know this to be true because our family has been in the midst of this very subject more than we would prefer lately. And with that, we have all mourned very differently. Still, I have found myself temped to assume that those not grieving as I am don't care enough or even worse...don't get it at all, just like other nations might think about us.

(Getting all pompous is something I do well. Blah.)

And then I was reminded that this is a process. Life is a process, for all. And our process is not going to ever look just like another's.

But there is one keynote not to be missed, as in all good roasts. Our minds, hearts and souls must remain saturated with the truth so that when the final dance is on stage, we are confident ticket holders of the next performance.

My cup runneth over.

Our Sweet Floy

Living 10 years next door to someone so wonderful, and ornery will change a person forever. Words can't describe what she meant to us. Luckily I have these snapshots to speak instead. Hugs and kisses.

After the memorial we had for Floy on her would be 91st birthday, we captured yet another snapshot of many neighbors that shared that south end street of Angora.















Let the good times roll.

Love is...



In my last post I touched on Ryan's perspective of love. Ironically, this morning, I received an email with similar child view love stories from my mom (thanks mom) that I couldn't resist sharing...

Slow down for three minutes to read this. It is so worth it. Touching words from the mouth of babes. 
A group of professionals posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does love mean?' 
The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined.




"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." 
 
 Rebecca- age 8



"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different…you just know that your name is safe in their mouth." 
 

Billy - age 4




"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." 
 
Karl - age 5



"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs." 
 
 Chrissy - age 6



"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." 
 
 Terri - age 4



"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." 

Danny - age 7

"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. 
 
My Mommy and Daddy are like that…they look gross when they kiss." 
 
Emily - age 8


"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." 
 
 Bobby - age 7


"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate."
 
Nikka - age 6


 

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." 
 
 Noelle - age 7



"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." 
 

Tommy - age 6


"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore." 

 Cindy - age 8



"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." 
 
Clare - age 6



"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." 
 

Elaine - age 5



"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford."
 
 Chris - age 7



"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." 
 
Mary Ann - age 4


 "I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." 

 Lauren - age 4



"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." 
 
 Karen - age 7



"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." 
 
Mark - age 6


"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." 


Jessica - age 8






No Mo Hair

Last night was date night. Dates are important. Even Ryan, our 6 going on 60 year old knows what date translates into..."It's how you love mom," I heard him explain to his dad earlier this week. I heart that boy. OK, enough soul exposure. For tonight.

So, the event was a wedding. Yay, because all girls know that wedding translates into dress up time.

The line up was as follows:

little black dress...check
strapless bra borrowed from my teen...TMI?? tell me about it...anyway, check
hair curled, make up done...check
jewelry...check
shoes...now for true confessions.

I'm not a shoeaholic.

Yes, I said it out loud, or in print, which ever is most convicting. I know that most women are in love with their expansive shoe wardrobe but my budget and desire have never completely mingled. At least not far enough in advance to enjoy a night out together. This typically translates into the last minute rummage through the skimpy collection on the bottom of my closet floor leaving me last night with a very unused, black patent sling strap Jimmy Choo Anne Klein heal. Perfect. Right until I saw the dingy fake leather sadly looking back at me.

These kinds of problems don't typically intimidate me though.

The Mission: to make the shoes look as good as possible while remembering that I have no attachment to the shoes itself. I quickly put on my Heloise hat and thought as she would...a simple buff...not effective. Clear finger nail polish, umm no, too time consuming. Then I spied the new bottle of spray wax that I bought from my hairdresser earlier in the week. (Now, hair products are a far different kind of addiction which we will not discuss tonight.) Man, not blogging for a year has left me full of tangents. I'll work on that. Anyway, the problem at hand seemed to be solved. A little spray here, a little blow dry there and voila! Good as new shoes.

Attention: this is not a tangent. We have a dog. Her name is Hedy. She is a Blue Heeler and she sheds.

The line up was complete. Sam, looking dashing as usual, grabbed my hand, the invitation and off we went.

We started the car, entered the info in the GPS and as I did the final check, it was then that I paid the consequence of my hap hazard attention to the detail of shoes. And apparently the lack of attention to my again, no name vacuum.

Let's just say that the spray wax and heat and shedding of our Hedy united.

Mohair patent anyone?



The cake however, was divine, as was the evening.

Congrats Melanie and Andy! May you love and laugh, with yourselves and others today (especially) and always.

Places in life

It's been a while since I've posted on here. One year, three months to be exact.

Much has happened in my world since then. Life changing topics such as the birth of a new business... actually two, and two very bittersweet goodbyes. Goodbyes are never easy. I'm also working with a non-profit that's mission is very close to heart. A true privilege. But the greatest opportunity I've been given isn't visible to the eye, or recognized by the payroll department. It's one of those things that I had heard of and celebrated from afar but never thought I would obtain. Not that I didn't feel worthy, just didn't think I would be on the receiving end. And since my idea of what should happen and God's actuality tend to be so vastly different, I can't say that I'm surprised. What I am is grateful. Beyond grateful. And what I've been awarded is a second chance.

Hi there. My name is Jennifer Harris Brown and I am second. :)