Category: Home and Family

Happy Fall Y’all

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Fall2017-7019

I love Fall.  It’s my favorite season.  And with a newer house, it’s fun to decorate for the seasons using decorations you’ve had for years, and adding a few new each year.

I usually start decorating for fall in mid to late September.  I add a few Halloween decorations throughout October and then more Thanksgiving related in November.  But the “Fall” decor can stay basically until December.  And since it’s my fave, it makes me very happy.

I love changing the front entry and living room decorations for the seasons even though we don’t use that area that much.  The console table by the front door has some fall leaves, a straw acorn, a glittery pumpkin, and some candles scattered across it.  On my white couch in the living room, I always change out the pillows for the seasons.

Scattered around the Family Room and dining area are some random pieces to add some color to our most lived in spaces.  I don’t do a lot, other than the mantel area (pic at top) because we do truly live in this space.  There are always drink glasses, computers, magazines, remotes, shoes, and toys around.  Lots of toys.  As you can see on the pic with the red circles, my grandson decorates too.  Those are Hot Wheels cars he has strategically placed in the stones of the fireplace.  Not sure why, but it’s his own design.

Outside decor is fun but I don’t really do a lot of over the top stuff.  I have some ghosts and skeletons, some orange lights (can’t see them in the photo) and other little random things.  I love my hay bales, pumpkins, and my FALL sign.  I added the Fall sign this year and also found a similar one for Christmas that says JOY.

So, that’s most of my Fall decor for October.  Can’t wait to get started on the Thanksgiving and Christmas decorating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Widow’s List – 10 Realities

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PriestI was scrolling through my Facebook feed yesterday and ran across this essay entitled “10 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me About Becoming A Widow on the Today Show Facebook Page.  This type of thing always catches my attention because, well, I’m a widow.  I don’t use that word except on legal documents but I will get into that later.  So I stopped to read.  This was a good one.  Sheryl Sandberg of Facebook also did one of the best descriptions I’ve seen of the real feelings one has when your spouse dies.   And as I always do, I started thinking about my own list – what would I tell people about the reality of the W word and all that goes along with it?  What is the TRUTH?  Do people really want to know?

Some background – it was 2001 and my husband Gary and I had been married for 20 years.  Well, actually just short of 20 years.  He died on June 3rd and our 20th anniversary would have been on June 20th so I just say 20 years when someone asks.  We had 2 children.  My son Zack had just turned 15 two weeks before and my daughter Casey was 11.  Gary died of a heart attack at home when the kids and I were away at my parents for the week.  It was horrible and I would never wish that on anyone.

So what would my Need To Know for Widows be?  I have thought a lot about this for the last 16 years and I do know that I come up with something different every time I think about it so I decided to write down just some of my thoughts.

  1. Death Sucks No Matter How One Dies – People have asked about the way Gary died (death makes people say both incredibly kind and naively stupid things).  “Do you wish you had been able to say goodbye?”  No, I wish I didn’t HAVE to say goodbye.  My mom died over a period of 5 years, struggling with breast cancer.  Neither was harder or easier, they were both awful.
  2. People Don’t Know What To Do – Because everyone handles death differently, people don’t know what to say to you or to do when they see you.  I know widows who cry uncontrollably when they run into friends and who need constant support.    I know others who talked constantly about their spouse to the point it made people uncomfortable.  Others don’t want to talk about the person at all.  Be patient with people.  They care about you.  The people that I appreciated the most were the ones who just asked “How are you doing?”.  Yes, of course, there were times I wanted to yell “How the hell do you THINK I’m doing?” but I didn’t.  I just answered as best I could, usually saying something like, “We are ok, just learning a new normal.”  You will find what works for you.
  3. Nothing is Normal – I just wanted things to be normal.  I wanted my normal life with my normal work life, with my normal kids and my normal family.  NOTHING was normal.  I wanted people to treat me normally rather than like a broken doll.  I hated the look of pity on their faces even though I knew it came from a good place.  I wanted to go through the grocery store without seeing all the shiny, happy people who didn’t seem to have any idea that my husband had just died.  How could they walk around with all that normalcy?  The smell of flowers brought back reminders of the funeral home.  I just wanted to be able to smell flowers without thinking about all that.  And then, slowly, there came a new normal.  It was never the same but it was still mostly beautiful and good.  Our lives had changed forever.  We just created our new normal and it works for us.
  4. The First Year Is The Worst – All year long, there were reminders of things we had done the previous year.  Trips, photos of random stuff, decorating for Christmas, holidays, etc. were all reminders of the times we had together as a family.  Unexpected things like getting my detailed cell phone bill the following month and seeing all the calls to his phone the night he died.  You could trace the timing of the calls right up to the time a friend went to the house to check on him.  I could feel the whole thing happening all over again.  The days leading up to the 1st anniversary of his death were anxiety filled and full of the memories of how unaware we were of the tragedy to come.  And then, the anniversary of his death was here.  And then it passed.  And we were ok.  And it was still hard.  But it got better.  Different, still hard, but easier each year.  But that first year was the worst.
  5. Your Real Friends Know What You Need – Once when I was traveling for work, my daughter was supposed to call me when she got home from school.  She didn’t.  I couldn’t find her and I was panicking, driving in another state, crying.  I called my friend Kay, saying I couldn’t deal with this, I was going to have to quit traveling, my kids needed me and I wasn’t there.  She quietly listened to me freak out and then very calmly said, “I need you to do something for me.  I need you to say the F word 10 times.  Right now, say it.”  And I did.  10 times.  And it felt better.  It really did.  And then my daughter called to let me know she was home and everything was ok.  Thank you Kay.
  6. Your Kids and His Family Are Hurting Too – I lost my best friend.  My kids lost their Dad.  His mom said to me once, “You lost your husband but you can get married again.  I lost my son and I can never replace him.”  I was mad about that at the time because I felt like we were in a grieving war but I also knew that no parent should ever go through losing a child.  I felt like whenever I took my kids to visit his family, we were just a reminder that he was gone.  I knew they wanted to see their grandchildren but he was missing.  I had to get over myself and my grief so I could be there for his family.  Same with my kids.  At one point, I had to force them to go to counseling and it really helped my daughter.  But I first had to admit that what I was doing to support them wasn’t helping them.  They were teenagers and that’s hard enough.  Teenagers who had lost their dad was sometimes far too much for a parent to handle.  So even though you lost your husband, other people lost him too and you have to figure out how to help them through it.
  7. Don’t Worry About The Widow Word – As I said, I pretty much hate the W word.  I have never liked labels.  I don’t like referring to myself as a Widow.  It creates an image in someone’s mind of who I am and that image is rarely correct.  I had to make peace with the fact that I am a Widow.  When you first met people, the easy small talk question always asked is “Are you married?”.  I would apologetically stumble through “Well, my husband passed away a few months/years ago” because I had identified as Married for so long and to say anything else felt like it negated all those years of happiness. And I didn’t have a choice in not being married anymore. But pretty much instantly, it made people uncomfortable.  I have tried a couple of things over the years.  But mostly, when asked if I am married, I just say “No”.  Then I ask questions about the other person.  I can still talk about my kids and tell stories as I get to know the person.  If it comes up in conversation that my husband passed away or if they ask, it is just part of the conversation, not the beginning of the conversation creating an awkward start.
  8. Your Spouse Was Human, Remember Them That Way – Gary was a human with all the faults of any man.  He could make me madder than anyone.  He was messy and left a trail of clothes, newspapers, and cigarette ashes everywhere.  He drank, sometimes too much.  But he was a GOOD man.  He tried to be a better man.  He loved me and our kids unconditionally and he was a true partner in every sense of the word.  He was my best friend but he wasn’t perfect.  After people die, it seems we only see them through rose colored glasses.  We stop talking about the bad things we used to complain to our girlfriends about.  Why?  Let’s be real.  Let them be real.  I watched family members put up pictures of Gary where none had been and who had previously criticized his bad habits make excuses for him after he died.  It felt so hypocritical.  He would have laughed at that person.  And what if you were angry at your spouse?  What if your marriage wasn’t in a good place?  The hard reality is that nothing can be changed.  It is what it is.  This is not a movie.  There is nothing that forces you into accepting that you cannot change things like someone dying in the middle of a relationship in trouble.  But it can help you learn a lot about yourself and your responsibility in the situation and you CAN grow from it.
  9. Your Spouse Will Be A Part Of Your Life For A Long Time – Over time, things come up that bring him back into parts of our lives.  Even many years later.  We talk to my grandson about his Poppy that he never met.  He knows he was a Firefighter.  He knows his Poppy loved to fish.  My grandson doesn’t completely understand but he does know that his Mommy’s Daddy was loved by us all.  A few days after my husband passed away, my 11 year old daughter caught me in the kitchen.  She looked at me with her big blue eyes and said, “Who is going to walk me down the aisle when I get married?”  I immediately teared up and choked out “I’m not sure honey, I guess we will figure it out when the time comes”.  I thought that was a long time away with lots of life changes in between.  Now 27, she got married last week.  It’s been 16 years since he died.  She asked her Uncle Greg, my brother-in-law, to walk her down the aisle.  He wore a button with her dad’s picture on his lapel.  She wore her dad’s retired firefighter badge inside her dress and the same button with his picture pinned to her bouquet.  I believe her dad was there to walk her down the aisle.
  10. You Will Be Happy Again – It doesn’t feel like it will ever happen but it will.  Everyone says it.  And it really is true.  Early on, you will laugh and catch yourself.  It will surprise you.  My dear brother made me laugh several times the day of the funeral.  We were not being disrespectful, it’s the way he shows love, stuff was funny, and it was more helpful than you can imagine.  My kids and I have come a long way and it was hard.  But we always laughed and talked about the good times with their dad.  And we made new memories and laughed some more.  I wish they had been able to grow up with their dad.  But really, life was happy with some sad times, just like kids who DID grow up with their dad in their lives.  And that makes me happy.

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?

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2017-03-31 12.47.55For those not addicted to the Broadway musical Hamilton, the title is the name of the final song.  I’m kind of obsessed with Alexander Hamilton right now.  But that is not what this is all about.  The lyric just happened to fit my thoughts for today.

As many things do, this started with a dinner discussion with my daughter and her fiancé who were sharing the story of getting their marriage license this week.  Questions were asked of them to which they had no answers – for one, his father’s birthplace.  By way of a brief explanation, his father was not in his life for most of his life and there has never been a need to have knowledge of personal things.

Discussion turned to my late husband’s birthplace.  She said he was born in Ducktown, Georgia.  He was not. I explained he was born in Copperhill, Tennessee.  I asked her what she put down for me.  She replied, “Clarksville, Tennessee of course”.  I smiled and said, “Murray, Kentucky”.  We all laughed but it really made me think.  Watch out when I start thinking.

Genealogy is my passion.  Historical Records, such as marriage licenses, court records, birth certificates, death records, etc. are validation for researchers that one has the correct information.

It is also a passion of mine to tell stories about our family history.  I want my children and my grandchildren to know something about the people that came before them, both significant and insignificant.  We have family members that influenced American history, who impacted the lives of entire communities, and those that quietly struggled through their daily lives one day at a time and influenced only those directly related to them.  All of them are interesting and important and beloved.  And as long as I tell their stories, they stay alive in some way.

But who is telling my story?  And their Dad’s story?  And their grandparent’s?

So much of what we know about our family history, or any historical figure studied by writers or researchers, comes from stories and letters that were WRITTEN DOWN and saved by someone.  We don’t do that anymore.  We don’t write letters.  Few people keep written journals.  Everything is online or done through emails or text.

We do have Instagram and other social media that will give us what our ancestors did not have – lots of photos.  But what about the stuff going on in their brains and in their hearts?  I want to know about that stuff.  I know a great deal about relatives I never met because I have letters that were shared between them.  I learned of their hopes and dreams and fears.  I learned about their personalities and how they felt about their families and about themselves.  I feel like I knew them.  They are people I care about, even though they were born over 150 years ago and died over 90 years ago.  These things are really important to me.  But maybe not to my kids.  Or maybe just not as important as they are to me.

So what’s the answer?  I’m not sure yet.  My only solution right now?  To write my own story.  I need to figure out how to put aside some time to do that.  Maybe I will periodically do that here.  What have I left out in sharing stories of my childhood?  I feel like it’s well known but maybe not – do my kids even know WHY I was born in Murray, Kentucky?

It’s because my parents met in college at Murray State, got pregnant, got married, and had me there.  My brother was also born in Murray soon after I was.  Our parents struggled as young married college students with two kids but my mother was determined that they would graduate from college and would not drop out.  My dad joined ROTC because the small stipend he got monthly (I think they said $45 per month) would pay for married student’s housing.  My mother asked her father to go to the bank with her to get a loan, even after he told her she needed to give up on college and go be a wife and a mother.  Mom’s parents kept us during the week on their farm in Hopkinsville and we saw Mom and Dad on weekends.  They both graduated against all odds and my dad was obligated to join the Army.  Our family traveled the world and my dad retired as a General at the end of his long career in the Army.  Not what anyone planned but really, does life ever go the way we plan?

Why do I know those details?  My mom shared stories with me.  She wrote letters.  And when my grandfather passed away, she wrote down more details in a speech to be read by my father at my grandfather’s funeral.  She gave me a copy.  She was sharing stories of the type of man my grandfather was but she also shared a little about what kind of woman she became because of his influence.

I love those stories.  It says so much about the determination my mother had in anything she wanted to do.  And it shows the positive influence she had on Dad.  Mom had a quiet, respectful way about her until you told her she couldn’t do something.  But when she made up her mind, get out of her way.  She was the first person in her family to go to college.  And she eventually obtained her Masters Degree.

My story is intertwined with many others.  We all have both individual and a shared history.  We will see where this goes.  Maybe it is me who will Tell My Story.

 

Thanks, I didn’t know I needed that.

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imageI love to cook.  I love cookbooks.  I love old cookbooks.  I love to sit and read cookbooks.  I love history and tradition but also crave new things.  I love to experiment.  Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail.  Sometimes I fail BIG TIME.  My daughter just loves to tell about the time, years ago, that I put salt in my blackberry cobbler instead of sugar.  It wasn’t that I didn’t know better.  I really do know better.  I was not experimenting.  I don’t remember how I did it because it’s so unbelievable to me that I did it.  But I did.  And it was truly awful.  It went right down the disposal and my kids wrote it right into our family history, to be used to embarrass mom for all time.

While I am a pretty good cook, I am not that great of a baker.  Baking is a science.  You have to do things exactly as they are supposed to be done or things don’t work.  Or it might not work because of the temperature outside or the humidity.  With cooking, if you don’t image-1-1have kidney beans, you can substitute black beans.  If you think it would be good with sour cream added, go ahead!  There is still science involved in cooking but there is a little more freedom to experiment as long as you know some good solid basics.

My family is full of good cooks.  And there are others who pretty much hate to cook.  Those people also hate to eat so there is probably a connection, right?  Both my kids are pretty good cooks too.  My son and his fiancé cooked Thanksgiving at their house this past year for the first time and it was sooooo good!  I love the way each generation keeps some of their family’s traditional dishes and adds some new, interesting options.  Or they blend traditions from their original families into a new tradition of their own.  What my kids consider our traditional Thanksgiving dinner actually looks very different what I grew up with.  Over the years, my husband and I took bits and pieces from my family, from his family, and from my sister and his sister in law to create our own traditional meal.

image-3My mother in law gave me a stand mixer some years ago.  She had it for many years.  It was not high end at all but it did the job.  I had always coveted the iconic Kitchen Aid Stand Mixers.  They were beautiful, sleek, and powerful.  But I couldn’t rationalize spending that kind of money on something I would use only occasionally.  The hand me down worked just fine.  Until a few months ago when it literally fell apart in my hands.  I pulled it out to use it and I set it on the counter.  I went to lift the main part to put in the beaters and it came off the bottom, fell into 3 pieces and screws/bolts rolled to the floor.  I tried to put it back together but eventually carried it to my outside trash can and dropped it in without ceremony.  I pulled out my little $10 hand mixer and finished whatever I was preparing.

Over the next several months, I used my hand mixer a good bit.  There were times when it was completely adequate and others when it was a bit frustrating.  I actually used it more than I thought.  I looked at stand mixers on line.  I considered buying a low end stand mixer but I have come to believe that, at this point in my life, if I can afford it, why shouldn’t I buy what I really want.  I couldn’t afford it right away but I decided I was going to save up for a Kitchen Aid mixer.

I randomly had that conversation with my son and his fiancé.  And at Christmas theyimage-1 gave me a card and a touching and tearful conversation about why they wanted to give me something I really wanted – a Kitchen Aid mixer.   So they did.  It now sits on my counter.  It’s beautiful.  And sleek.  And powerful.  I didn’t know I would love it.  But I do.

Life really is not about stuff and stuff doesn’t make you happy.  I know this.  But I really am happy with my life.  I am not a person who must have the best, the newest, the name brand.  I don’t buy a lot of things for myself that cost a lot of money.  I splurge every 3-4 years on a really good camera or lens because photography is one of my passions.  I splurged on my home because it was my dream and I worked hard to get it.  When something makes my life better or enhances my ability to enjoy my family and my life, I will get it.  My cameras and lenses allow me to pursue my hobby of capturing the lives of my family for current and future generations.  My home allows me to have all of my family and friends here with me, all in one place which has been a dream of mine for some time.  And this mixer, it’s just a small part of doing something I love – cooking – and enjoying the process.

Thanks Zack and Chris.

 

 

I Want To Know More

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ezmaOver this election cycle, there has been frequent talk about women, notably the fact that we had a female candidate, the photos of the lines of people waiting to put an “I Voted” sticker on the grave of Susan B. Anthony, the controversial comments about women.  Several times I have wondered who was the first woman in my family to vote?  When was that?  I don’t see any suffragettes in my female genealogy and am more inclined to believe that the women in my family did what their husband told them to do.  Until we get to my mother.  She was strong.  But in a quiet way.  She was not afraid to express her opinions or take advantage of options presented to her.  Quietly and with strength.

Today, as I sat and absorbed the election results, I needed to get off social media and distract my mind.  I perused some of the blogs listed on my old blog list.  Many haven’t posted in months but I looked back over the last year, just to find something interesting that would make me think.  I found this post from Planting Dandelions.  It is about finding her female line.  It made me think.  I have never really paid much attention to the line of mothers and grandmothers as I delved into my genealogical research. I followed names and history, mostly male but some female lines.  What about the mothers and grandmothers? What would that look like for me?

So I did some research.  Starting with my mother, I looked at her mother and grandmother.  Then I kept going.  Until I couldn’t anymore.  Here is what I found:

2016-07-07-12-00-07Me – Tere Cunningham Priest

09-12-2005-10-27-18-906My Mother – Annette McKnight Cunningham (1940 – 2005)

4canslerkidsHer Mother (on right) – Ezma Cansler McKnight (1912 – 1992)

image-13Her Mother – Flossie Bennett Cansler (1890 – 1991)

jamesandneciebennettHer Mother – Necie Lantrip Bennett (1853 – 1929)

Her Mother – Mary Ann Menser Lantrip (1830 – 1904)

Her Mother – Dorothy Croft Menser (1804 – ?)

This was an interesting exercise for me.  While I have strong, loving relationships tying me to my mother and grandmother, as well as my great-grandmother, these are not the women in my history, other than my mother, who fascinate me the most.  I loved them deeply and respected them beyond measure for the hard lives they lived.  But I am fascinated by some of the other women throughout my family tree.  Women who dealt directly with war, literally in their backyards.  Women who lost children and husbands to war, sickness, fire.  Women who wrote everything down so generations later we know something about them and their lives.  Strong women who took what life gave them and lived the best life they knew how.

But these women are my direct line, mother to mother.  I am descended directly from them in a straight line.  Suddenly that means more to me.  I owe it to myself to find out more about them than I knew yesterday.  These are country women.  The other side of my family was made up of families who were part of the birth of our nation with fathers who were doctors, statesmen, and landowners.  Those women were educated and kept diaries.  Many in my mother’s line may not have known how to read and write.  But those families were also a part of the progress of our nation.  They were the ones who left and moved across the wilderness to make better lives for their families.  They settled in primitive areas and farmed the rocky land, the women and children right beside their husbands and fathers.

I want to know more.

He’s a Great Pumpkin

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kayson-pumpkinThis boy.  He is just . . . wow.  We have so much fun.  How do you explain your grandchild to someone that really doesn’t know him?  No matter what you say, you always sound like the proud grandma with blinders on.  I will admit, I can be that proud grandma on any given day but I typically don’t wear blinders.  I am pretty honest and realistic about my kids and grandson.  But I have been known not to acknowledge the negative and I admit it.

But I’m not here for that today.  I am here to introduce you to this boy.  So let’s just start with Halloween.

A few weeks ago, his mom started talking to him about what he wanted to be for Halloween.  He is obsessed with being a policeman so I thought he would want to wear something along those lines since he already has some dress up clothes for a police officer and a SWAT team member.  They had a few discussions and at some point, he decided that he wanted to be a pumpkin. And then he brought it up again.  A few days later, he mentioned being a pumpkin again so his mom determined he had pretty much made up his mind.  She started looking for what she thought would be an easy costume, a pumpkin/jack-o-lantern.

The thing is, by the time most boys are 4, they want to be an Avenger or Batman or one of the Paw Patrol, a Star Wars character or a ninja, or anything that is cartoon or testosterone driven.  There are not a lot of pumpkin costumes for preschoolers.  So his mom decided to make one for him.  We went looking for materials.  Her fiancé and I just made her crazy with our opinions and suggestions.  She had a plan but she needed us to butt out.  So she went and got the materials and when it was just her and my grandson at home, she made his costume the night before his Fall Festival at school.

He loved it.  He was so excited.  It was totally not what I envisioned and it was totally perfect.  He could not wait to wear it.  He put it on before the festival and showed all his friends.  At one point, one of the little girls in his class criticized his costume and it hurt his feelings a bit.  He shared it with his mom and dad and then moved right on past it.  He had a great time.  And when given the option a few days later to wear his Chewbacca costume/pajamas for Trick or Treating, he wanted to wear his pumpkin costume.

What I love about this is that he made his own choice and did what he wanted to do.  When a friend criticized his choice, even though it hurt, he stuck with it.  I know that will not be the case one day.  A friend will make fun of him and he will cave to peer pressure.  We all have to go through it.  But he’s not there yet, thankfully.  And maybe he won’t.  That would be cool.

 

Moving On

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I’m moving on to the next thing.  I am going to try to write more.  I have missed it.  I have tried a couple of times.  I have thought a lot about it.  I had some circumstances in my life that made me hesitant.  I won’t go into those but I will tell you that writing is the way I work through things.  But I felt like I couldn’t do that.  However, I have decided that I need to move on and move forward, doing what I love again, to just be me.

I have so much to be thankful for and so much good has happened in the 6 months since I have written anything on this blog.  I am in such a great place and grateful every day.  So I want to share a few things.  Allow me to brag a little.

Wedding Bells!!!  Both my kids are engaged to amazing people.  I love both of my future sons-in-law.  They have both become a crucial part of our family and hold a special place in my heart.  Both couples are deep into wedding planning and I plan to write more about that as we move toward the dates.  They have very unique and different styles so I am excited to watch all of this as it unfolds.

This spring, I had the opportunity to visit family and spend time with some of my siblings.  My younger brother – tall guy on the right – lives in Eastern Washington.  While traveling for work, I was able to stay over a weekend with him.  He has 6 kids and 5 grandchildren.  Only 4 of his kids are pictured here but I did get to see 1 of his older two sons on the trip.  It’s weird to say that I don’t really know his kids, but I don’t because we’ve always lived across the country from each other, only seeing each other every few years.  I had never met his youngest two but now I have.  He is an amazing dad and I love his kids.  They have interesting and diverse personalities and are all pretty independent and funny.  Just like my brother.

On the left is a picture of my sister and me from this spring. This was an impromptu visit as we took a trip down memory lane with her family and our nephew who was visiting from California.  Behind us you can see the buildings on my grandparent’s farm in Hopkinsville, Kentucky.  My grandfather build the little white house on the right, just over my head.  It’s where my mom grew up.  It was my home off and on when I was very, very young and was always my favorite place to visit growing up as we travelled from one duty station to the next.  We all have that place where we feel comforted, cared for and loved.  This was my place.  Memories of iron skillets, barns, quilts, biscuits, crickets, hay, pigs, electric fences, cows, the corncrib, the dinner bell, chickens and eggs, church on Sunday, strawberries, tractors, tobacco, fireflies, swinging electric fans, fried chicken, coke floats, breezes through the window, creaking rocking chairs.  My cousin lives in the little white house now.  So many memories and lessons learned on that farm.

Trying new things is fun, whether it’s a new recipe or a new dish.  I just love to cook.  I love Southern comfort foods but I also like to venture out and learn new ways of doing things.  On the left, my creation that was inspired by watching one too many cooking shows.  It’s pappardelle pasta with pancetta, shallots, white wine, cream, romano cheese, basil, and a bit of truffle oil.  Yummy.  Just yummy.  I hope to start sharing some recipes soon – some family favorites as well as some new ones I might run across.

On the right – it looks like creme brûlée but is is sooooooo NOT creme brûlée!  This is whiskey boudino and you must be 21 or older to order it.  They had me at whiskey.  You can have this at Bamboo Sushi, in Portland, Oregon and there are no regrets.  They have a truffled avocado nigiri that is melt in your mouth and many other interesting rolls and dishes, but this dessert . . . just wow!  It is a whiskey pudding with sea salt caramel on top.  If you are ever there, order it and don’t even hesitate!

My nephew Trent Taylor, a senior, plays college football at Louisiana Tech.  He’s kind of a big deal.  Now, I know I may be just a2016-09-24-18-36-13 little biased.  Okay, I am a LOT biased.  But the NCAA does some national rankings on player stats and they are not biased at all.  As of today, Trent is #1 in the country (yes, all of college football!) in receiving yards, #2 in receiving yards per game, #2 in receptions per game, and tied for 6th in receiving touchdowns.  He and his teammate Carlos Henderson at the top receiving pair in the country.  Trent is also on the Biletnikoff Award Watch List for the Top Receiver in College Football.  If you can watch a Louisiana Tech Bulldogs game on TV – he is #5 and is a slot receiver.

Yes, I am quite the proud aunt.  And Trent is just so much fun to watch because of how he plays the game.  But I am most proud of the  way this young man leads on the field.  He works so hard – he has to work twice as hard because he is only 5’8″ and weighs like 170 pounds.  He is little for a football player so he has to work very hard to stay ahead of those that are more genetically gifted.  To hear his coaches and others talk about how he “shows up” and gives 150% at every practice and gives his all on every play, it makes my heart swell.  A few games ago, he was tackled and his helmet came off.  When that happens they are required to leave the field to be checked out.  You could tell he didn’t want to go off but knew he had to do so.  He started getting the crowd riled up, moving his arms up and down, jumping around, getting them to cheer.  He is such a leader and what you hope every athlete will grow up to be.

My grandson continues to be my best little buddy and the light of my life.  When I am in town, I pick him up from preschool most every day and keep him until his mom picks him up. We run errands, cook dinner, play outside, or just hang out in the living room like zombies on a phone or iPad.  We talk about important stuff, we build with legos, we throw the football around outside.  It’s so much easier to be a grandparent than it was to be a parent.  Your have more patience, things just don’t bother you, and who cares if the laundry needs to be done, right?

I try to document things he says and does but I wanted to be able to write more about his quirky and fun personality.  Right now he’s into telling jokes.  Four year olds are funny when they tell jokes.  For the first 5 minutes.  Beyond that, not so much.  So be prepared, I’m going to bore you with cute grandson stories.  It’s for me and him, not you. <smile>  Indulge me.

I have so many things for which I am grateful.  2016-07-07-12-00-07I am happy.  My life is good.  And I will begin to write about that again.  Starting today.

A Bit of Progress

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Since I shared my starting points for my home back in January, I have made a little progress.  I thought I would share an update with photos and also share some of the upstairs bedrooms.  Very little is complete but there has been a little bit done to every room that moved it toward the goal.  Some boxes have been put away and some still remain.  I still don’t have a dining room table and don’t expect to for quite some time.  I know what I want but can’t find the right one at the right price.  Isn’t that always the way it is?  AND I just bought a patio set to be able to enjoy this beautiful spring weather so the dining table will have to wait again.

The family room is mostly complete but I change little every now and then.  I love decorating with old books and I have them in several places all over the house.

I finally got a foyer table from World Market and this is the entry way at the front door.  I created sort of a collage wall above it and added some photos, old books and items, and favorite family pieces.  The angel on the right is one from my mom and I have always loved it.  She sits on old family bibles, two from my 3 times great grandmother.  I treasure old family heirlooms and these are very special to me.

The living room is a little more organized and, although I loved all of this in my old house, this is not what my vision looked like here.  I think I am going to have to take it all out and start over!  But that’s another day!  The table between the two chairs holds a lamp from my great grandparents, a box full of old letters and photos, some antique reading glasses, a medical kit from my 3 times great grandfather who was a Dr., some small books of antique maps and a diary from my 4 times great grandfather.  There is also a photo of my great grandparent’s house, later my grandparent’s, in Clarksville, TN before it was renovated.  Many of the old things in my house were in that house.

.The pantry is much more organized now and I have painted one of the barstools for the kitchen, although it is not the color I want and I will have to figure that out before I paint the others.  The upper left photo is my great, great grandmother’s cook books and my grandmother’s and mom’s rolling pins and large crock.

The one room that is finished – the powder room downstairs.

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Let’s go upstairs.  I have not shared any photos yet of the “before” because they were just empty rooms full of boxes.  I have cleared out the boxes and started to put together some “decor” but it is bare minimum.  In fact, one of the mattresses is still on the floor.  One day . . . there will be bed frames and headboards and curtains and dressers.  🙂

Kayson’s room is the only one complete but he is still not used to the house so he doesn’t sleep in it.  When he spends the night, he sleeps with Nana, of course.

The unfinished upstairs – the bonus room, the master bedroom, master bath, master closet, and laundry room.  They are in my plan for the next year and will require new furniture for the bonus room so they are off the radar right now.  And I am the only person that spends any time in the master area and laundry room so I plan on taking my time and really thinking about what I want.  I am VERY lucky that I have a lot of space in these rooms so I can do something fun and creative.

So that’s the progress report.  I would love to hear your creative suggestions for any of the rooms.  Leave a comment with suggestions!

 

Be Still, and Listen

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I have a really hard time being still.   I always seem to need something to do to keep me busy.  On this beautiful spring day, one could hope I could sit out on the patio and just enjoy it.  But no, that was not going to happen.  I tried.  I prepared a drink – brown liquor.  I am, after all, a Southern girl, even on a Sunday.  I brought out my iPad.  Nope.  Not happening.  I squirmed, tired of Facebook surfing and then felt a little guilty that I could not just sit and enjoy this amazing gift that the universe had provided me.

As they do every day, the birds were dipping and soaring around the trees and bushes, having noisy conversations amongst themselves.  I thought about my camera.  I don’t have a lens fast enough or powerful enough to get pictures of moving birds but I decided to bring out the camera and maybe take a few shots, just so I could enjoy nature and my favorite season of spring but have still something to keep me engaged.

I sat on the covered patio with my elbows propped on the table and the camera resting in my hands.  Of course the stubborn birds were nowhere to be seen.  A large yellow butterfly floated by.  Butterflies always remind me of my mom.  I became very still and watched the butterfly as it travelled on it’s winding path, pausing only briefly on the edge of a bush, then moving on.

Birds-4483I became aware of the gentle breeze.  I began to smell the trees.  That fresh, earthy but sweet smell I remembered from childhood.  I sometimes wonder if I have lost my sense of smell but it was there today and it smelled like a memory.

I listened.  The variety of chirps and tweets from the different types of birds felt like a lullaby.  I could hear what sounded like a cricket every now and then.  And then they came.  Birds of all colors – red, blue, yellow, brown, and black.  They landed in the trees around me.  They paused on small bushes that were just beginning to bloom after what I hope was the last gasp of winter’s breath.  Birds-4447

I have never been that interested in the types of birds outside my windows, only that they were there.  I caught a few shots of playful birds that dared to come close, close enough that I could capture a few shots as they danced on the closest, low hanging branches.

I was still.  And quiet.  I listened.  And it calmed my soul.

Welcome Home

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I closed on the 17th of December, 2015.  I moved from the apartment on the 18th.  I moved the majority of my “stuff” from the old house in the storage units on the 21st.  I have been “moving in” for the last 3 – 4 weeks.

 

I wanted to document the before.  When I get finished with the unpacking, the throwing away, the rearranging, the hanging, and the furnishing, I want to have those memories of where I started.  The pictures are dark and not done well since I did them quickly on my cell phone.  As things progress, I promise I will use my camera and do a better job of presenting things.

 

Frankly, it’s a mess and it’s constantly changing.  But’s it’s an exciting mess as it starts to come together.  My sister Mickey was a big help this past weekend.  She came and unpacked boxes, broke down and hauled away tons of empty boxes, helped rearrange and hang things and we just might have done a little shopping too.  It really helped me to feel like we accomplished a lot but there is still so much to do.

 

So come on in and I will give you a tour.  This is the entry which includes the living room and dining.  Every room downstairs is open to the other rooms.  I love the open feel.  The model had the dining room and living room closed in with a wall between.  But the plans had the wall open between the two.  We could not find an example in Knoxville that did not have that wall but I liked the idea of the open concept so I went with it.  I love it!  So happy.   I want to add a narrow console table to the wall in the entry area but have not purchased it yet.  There is one from World Market that I have my eye on.

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The living room is at the front of the house and the dining room is next, with the stairs dividing the front of the house from the back.  The living and dining rooms have pretty much become my staging areas for now.  I am hoping that, by the end of the week, I will have the living room set up and everything moved to the dining room so all the “stuff” is in one area.  I don’t have a dining table yet.  I am looking for a farmhouse style table that will seat 10 – 12 people.  I have lots of space so why not fill it up, right?  I have not found one I like yet at a price I can afford so it will be a journey for that room to come together.

Behind the stairs is the kitchen, dining area, and family room with fireplace.  This area spans the back of the house with a covered patio off the kitchen/eating area.  This space is the only one in which I feel like I have made progress.  I ordered two IKEA gray slipcovered sofas and found 2 patterned chairs on sale at a local furniture store.  I found a TV console cabinet at another local store.  I pulled out my antique trunk, my chippy farmhouse end table and coffee tables, crocks, and other paraphernalia and ordered a rug to pull it all together.  I still have some tweaking and need to hang things on the wall but I feel like the foundation is there now and I just love being in this room.

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I keep saying that the kitchen and pantry were my reasons for buying the house.  I love the open layout, the island, the amount of counter space, the tons of white cabinets, the blue subway tile, the granite and the huge pantry (which is a disorganized disaster right now).  It is my dream kitchen.  The eating area is feeling a little neglected with my 18 year old tile topped farmhouse table with chairs from another kitchen table I used to have.  The area is large and I need a larger table, a round one I think.  Again, that will have to happen down the road so this will have to do for now.

I have actually done some wall decorating and set up a coffee bar in the kitchen/eating area.  I found a coffee maker that does regular brewed coffee and Kuerig pods also.  I still need to get some hooks to hang the coffee mugs and I really want some large white coffee mugs.  More shopping.  Not sure if this will stay this way but for now, it’s up!

As you can see, I love Farmhouse Style.  My favorite show is Fixer Upper.  Joanna Gaines is my Spirit Animal.  🙂  I have many antiques and treasures that belonged to family members like my grandparents and great grandparents.  I love these things and want to keep them out where I can see them and remember the memories associated with them but I also want to add some modern touches too.  I have a lot to do to the upstairs so that will have to be a separate post soon.

 

So I have been in the house almost 4 weeks and this is where I’m starting.  It’s a process and a journey and it will take some time.  The other night, as I sat on my couch in the family room, wrapped in my cozy blanket and the fireplace going, I just kept saying “I love this house, I am so happy”.  I truly am.