Ugh. Today started great. I had a great day all day long with Eric and his family, then BAM! Wrong-o. All of a sudden Eric and I are in the middle of the all time dumbest fight you have ever heard of. Our anniversary is on Sunday. Already one year into marriage. That flew by. His parents bought us a BOSE ipod dock for our bedroom. The reasoning- He loves to listen to music while falling asleep, and I am used to sleeping in silence. We have had a clock radio, but it picks up very few channels. We have been falling asleep to the likes of Miley Cyrus. Terrible. I've put up with it for a year. Another thing I HATE about that clock radio is how bright the lights are on the clock. I have trouble sleeping. Maybe it's because I still feel a little bit like I'm in a hotel because I'm not used to this as my 'home.' Maybe it's because our house was robbed last summer. I don't know. I just have a struggle falling asleep every single night. One night it's the firmness of the bed. The next night, my pillow is just the most uncomfortable thing I have ever felt...I can hear the little murmur of the motor inside the ceiling fan and can't get it out of my mind...Eric is snoring and sometimes it sounds like he's going to stop breathing and it freaks me out...the toilet won't stop running...etc etc etc. I struggle to say the LEAST.
So, they gave us the BOSE today. YAY! I've been looking forward to it all year. The clock radio will be OUT of here. We will put the ipod in and have nice calming classical music or jazz to fall asleep to. Perfect. Plus, the light will be gone. Two of the many obstacles that I tackle each night will be gone. I swear, I unplug the clock and Eric flips his switch. "I NEED TO KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS. YOU MIGHT NOT NEED TO KNOW BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE TO WAKE UP (referring to my unemployment phase...) BUT I DO. He yells all of this. He wants the clock to stay. It's bizarre on so many levels. He never usually yells, for one. Secondly, he can look at the time on his phone which will be two inches from his head. So, not a big deal, right? Wrong. He's pissed about it, and I'm pissed that he's pissed and not being understanding. Now it's not even about the stupid clock. Now I'm FURIOUS that he had to throw it in my face that I don't have a job. Does he seriously think that I WANT to be unemployed? No one wants that. Can he not put himself in my shoes? He's a sweet guy, but I do wish he was better at trying to put himself in my shoes sometimes. I am not comfortable sleeping in our home for ten million reasons, why wouldn't he invite the opportunity to help me settle in here? I don't know.
Our arguing needs some work too. We are not in sync. He is calm as can be (usually, although he was different today.) and I am so animated that I can't keep my voice down. I KNOW I sound like a total witch and that some of the things I say are irrational and ridiculous sounding. Most of all, I know I need to tone it down and stop yelling. Be an adult now, Jacqueline. I am telling myself these things in my head as angry word vomit pushes its way out of my mouth. I can't help it today apparently. I was yelling.
I'm aggravated to the 10th degree. I'm in the bedroom blogging on our laptop with the door shut and he's in the living room watching the Braves. It is probably the worst fight in our entire one year of marriage, and it happened two days before we're supposed to be all lovey dovey on our 1 year anniversary. I know he'll wake up tomorrow and act like it never happened and I'll still wake up mad. I don't know which is worse. We need to close the book and give some closure on the subject or I can't move on but he just wants to move on without resolving it.
UGH. I can't wait for this night to end. Tonight, I'll have trouble sleeping because I'm angry at my husband. Every time his foot accidently touches mine under the covers I will cringe and my blood will boil. Why? This all happened because of an old CLOCK RADIO? Are you kidding me?
Friday, July 22, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
I wore a black and white dress.
Most days come and go and I usually slap some kind of vague description onto what type of day I thought it was. "Great." "OK." "Terrible." Most days take on one description. July 16th will always be a confusing juxtaposition of sorrow and happiness for me. One of the most important people in my life, my sister-in-law Jessica, celebrates her birthday on this day. Thank God she was given to this Earth. She means so much to me, even though I doubt she knows it. I celebrate that gift. On the other hand, I remember one of the other most important women in my life.
Last year on July 16th, my Aunt passed away after a long bout against Leiomyosarcoma. It is a very rare kind of cancer. She battled bravely for eleven years until one year ago today. With the thanks of many people working tirelessly, we had her for those extra years when she was originally given six months to live from the date of her diagnosis.
I'll never forget the look of pain and sadness on my father's face the day he told us his only sister and best friend had cancer, and that it didn't look good for her. That was one of the hardest days of my life. It's hard for me to see my hero, who is normally so bulletproof, so shaken. But he and Aunt Mary turned it around, became positive and decided they were going to stand together and beat it. They did. I've never seen two people so close and united.
I had started to take it for granted. That she would always beat her cancer, because she always had. You start to forget how lucky you are to still have this angel in your life. You get complacent and stop counting your blessings. How silly you feel when you are jolted back into reality.
I had forgotten about that terrible, wretched day, that I watched my father search for the words to tell us our Aunt was about to have a very real and awful struggle. I forgot about it until last year. Her cancer had come back several times, but each time, she kept fighting, and kept winning. It took a terrible toll on her body each of those times, but never on her mind. I was standing in the kitchen at my parents' house. I was standing with my back against the stove. My dad was standing on the other side of the island, right in front of the phone. My mom, on the other side up against the bookcase. We were all gabbing about some silly wedding detail. My wedding was coming up in July. We were laughing and enjoying each other when the phone rang. No big deal, the phone always rang. This call was different. My dad answered, listened for a few seconds, and struggled with the conversation. It didn't last long. Someone had called to tell him that her cancer was back, but she wasn't going to fight it this time. He hung up and burst into tears, which is something I am not used to at all. He and mom hugged for a long time and he managed to choke the news out to me.
"What do you mean?" "She always fights it." I just didn't get it. It didn't take long for her to go downhill. We visited her in the hospital in Boston several times until finally she decided she wanted to be at home. July 16th came. My wedding was in 9 days, but none of us were thinking about that, and I didn't care. I felt selfish to think about myself when someone I loved so much was fading quickly. We got the call that she had passed.
A pillar of strength. A courageous warrior. Yes, she was all of those things people always say of cancer survivors. But she was so much more. She is the most selfless person I have and will ever know. Regardless of what was going on her with her life, she was always an eternal optimist and seemed to beam no matter what. I just remember her smile. I'm glad I can still picture it so clearly in my mind.
A couple days later, the Phaneuf family all dressed in black, headed to the Beers & Story funeral home for the wake. What a special day. I know that sounds weird, but I had no idea just how many lives my Aunt had touched. There was a waiting line that stretched out the door and around the block. People were telling us they had been waiting over an hour. It was such a sad day, but we laughed a lot. We shared great memories and remembered her the way she would have wanted us to. The funeral followed up the next day. Those are the two hardest days of my life. I wore a black dress.
That Saturday, I woke up, got my hair done, and put on the most beautiful white dress you have ever seen. There was sadness that she was not there with us. My dad and I shared a special hug and moment where we looked at each other and thought of her. I thought of her all day. I wore a pin of hers on my flower bouquet that looked so great. The forecast for my wedding had not looked so great. It rained while we were in the church, but I promise it was the most beautiful rain I had ever seen. Right after the ceremony was over, the rain stopped and the most beautiful sky came out for the rest of the day. I knew it was because of her. I know she could have lived longer, but let herself go because she didn't want to mess my wedding up. That's just how she was, and how she is. She looked out for us and still does.
Her college roommate and best friend Ruthie gave me a little gift that she probably thought would mean nothing to me. She said it reminded her a lot of my Aunt. It's a little plaque and it says "Live well. Laugh often. Love much." Above the words, there is a picture of three pine trees and there is a single white dove flying under the sun. I kiss my hand and rub the dove every morning. I guess I pretend the dove is my Aunt. It reminds me how special life is. I decided I would hang it right next to my mirror in my bathroom so I would think of my Aunt every day, and I do. She certainly lived a wonderful life. She did do all of those things. I look at those simple words and because of my Aunt and that plaque, I strive to live my life the way she lived hers. I know I'll never come close. She was the best. I know in my heart she was never meant to be here long. God put an angel on Earth for my family and he just needed her back.
I miss you so much, Mary Ellen Phaneuf Anton. I can't believe it's already been a year. I think of you every day and you are still guiding me to be a better person even in your absence. <3
Last year on July 16th, my Aunt passed away after a long bout against Leiomyosarcoma. It is a very rare kind of cancer. She battled bravely for eleven years until one year ago today. With the thanks of many people working tirelessly, we had her for those extra years when she was originally given six months to live from the date of her diagnosis.
I'll never forget the look of pain and sadness on my father's face the day he told us his only sister and best friend had cancer, and that it didn't look good for her. That was one of the hardest days of my life. It's hard for me to see my hero, who is normally so bulletproof, so shaken. But he and Aunt Mary turned it around, became positive and decided they were going to stand together and beat it. They did. I've never seen two people so close and united.
I had started to take it for granted. That she would always beat her cancer, because she always had. You start to forget how lucky you are to still have this angel in your life. You get complacent and stop counting your blessings. How silly you feel when you are jolted back into reality.
I had forgotten about that terrible, wretched day, that I watched my father search for the words to tell us our Aunt was about to have a very real and awful struggle. I forgot about it until last year. Her cancer had come back several times, but each time, she kept fighting, and kept winning. It took a terrible toll on her body each of those times, but never on her mind. I was standing in the kitchen at my parents' house. I was standing with my back against the stove. My dad was standing on the other side of the island, right in front of the phone. My mom, on the other side up against the bookcase. We were all gabbing about some silly wedding detail. My wedding was coming up in July. We were laughing and enjoying each other when the phone rang. No big deal, the phone always rang. This call was different. My dad answered, listened for a few seconds, and struggled with the conversation. It didn't last long. Someone had called to tell him that her cancer was back, but she wasn't going to fight it this time. He hung up and burst into tears, which is something I am not used to at all. He and mom hugged for a long time and he managed to choke the news out to me.
"What do you mean?" "She always fights it." I just didn't get it. It didn't take long for her to go downhill. We visited her in the hospital in Boston several times until finally she decided she wanted to be at home. July 16th came. My wedding was in 9 days, but none of us were thinking about that, and I didn't care. I felt selfish to think about myself when someone I loved so much was fading quickly. We got the call that she had passed.
A pillar of strength. A courageous warrior. Yes, she was all of those things people always say of cancer survivors. But she was so much more. She is the most selfless person I have and will ever know. Regardless of what was going on her with her life, she was always an eternal optimist and seemed to beam no matter what. I just remember her smile. I'm glad I can still picture it so clearly in my mind.
A couple days later, the Phaneuf family all dressed in black, headed to the Beers & Story funeral home for the wake. What a special day. I know that sounds weird, but I had no idea just how many lives my Aunt had touched. There was a waiting line that stretched out the door and around the block. People were telling us they had been waiting over an hour. It was such a sad day, but we laughed a lot. We shared great memories and remembered her the way she would have wanted us to. The funeral followed up the next day. Those are the two hardest days of my life. I wore a black dress.
That Saturday, I woke up, got my hair done, and put on the most beautiful white dress you have ever seen. There was sadness that she was not there with us. My dad and I shared a special hug and moment where we looked at each other and thought of her. I thought of her all day. I wore a pin of hers on my flower bouquet that looked so great. The forecast for my wedding had not looked so great. It rained while we were in the church, but I promise it was the most beautiful rain I had ever seen. Right after the ceremony was over, the rain stopped and the most beautiful sky came out for the rest of the day. I knew it was because of her. I know she could have lived longer, but let herself go because she didn't want to mess my wedding up. That's just how she was, and how she is. She looked out for us and still does.
Her college roommate and best friend Ruthie gave me a little gift that she probably thought would mean nothing to me. She said it reminded her a lot of my Aunt. It's a little plaque and it says "Live well. Laugh often. Love much." Above the words, there is a picture of three pine trees and there is a single white dove flying under the sun. I kiss my hand and rub the dove every morning. I guess I pretend the dove is my Aunt. It reminds me how special life is. I decided I would hang it right next to my mirror in my bathroom so I would think of my Aunt every day, and I do. She certainly lived a wonderful life. She did do all of those things. I look at those simple words and because of my Aunt and that plaque, I strive to live my life the way she lived hers. I know I'll never come close. She was the best. I know in my heart she was never meant to be here long. God put an angel on Earth for my family and he just needed her back.
I miss you so much, Mary Ellen Phaneuf Anton. I can't believe it's already been a year. I think of you every day and you are still guiding me to be a better person even in your absence. <3
Monday, May 23, 2011
When words are more than words.
I am pretty well adjusted to living in Georgia these days. In fact, I am crazy in love with this place. Don't tell my husband, because someday down the road we will end up back north to be with my brothers and all the little rugrats they will have by then, running around and raising hell in Massachusetts. Family. There's a word that is so much more than just a word. Think of all the words you say each day. Which ones make you stop and have a feeling? Family makes my heart beat so loudly and proudly that I admit I find myself trying to find ways to squeeze it into a sentence just so I can say it. Family. Just six letters, but more meaning to me than maybe anything else in my life. Here are just some of the amazing people in my family!
<a href="http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/?action=view&current=phaneufs.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/phaneufs.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
I love the above picture but I am heartbroken that my future sister-in-law is not in there, so I'm adding a picture just for her! Here she is at my wedding with my parents.
<a href="http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/?action=view&current=momdadandchelsea.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/momdadandchelsea.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
Another word that I'll admit I have been a little confused about lately is the word home. I'm so torn. Is Massachusetts my home, or is Georgia? Can it be both? Right now I admit I use the word to describe both places. When I say the word, the first place that comes to mind is Massachusetts. But, Georgia is where I live, so it's my home too. I know it's not a big deal, but I find myself feeling irked every time I use it when I talk about Georgia. Home is where the heart is, so they say, and while I visit my family in MA Eric is here, so I will continue to use the word to reference both places.
When I look at the word, I will always go back to my younger days and think of all the things that happened in MA that made me the person I am today. It is such an important place to me, and will always be my forever home.
This is not a real sign, but it makes me laugh since we have the reputation of being terrible drivers! Those crazy Massholes! I am proud to be one!
<a href="http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/?action=view&current=mass.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/mass.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
I think I finally figured out how to imbed pictures in my blog, so here's to improvement! I hope it works!
Jimmy Buffett concert tomorrow night. I CANNOT wait to hang with Emily and Skye all day in the nice warm sun! Bring it on quickly, please!
<a href="http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/?action=view&current=phaneufs.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/phaneufs.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
I love the above picture but I am heartbroken that my future sister-in-law is not in there, so I'm adding a picture just for her! Here she is at my wedding with my parents.
<a href="http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/?action=view&current=momdadandchelsea.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/momdadandchelsea.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
Another word that I'll admit I have been a little confused about lately is the word home. I'm so torn. Is Massachusetts my home, or is Georgia? Can it be both? Right now I admit I use the word to describe both places. When I say the word, the first place that comes to mind is Massachusetts. But, Georgia is where I live, so it's my home too. I know it's not a big deal, but I find myself feeling irked every time I use it when I talk about Georgia. Home is where the heart is, so they say, and while I visit my family in MA Eric is here, so I will continue to use the word to reference both places.
When I look at the word, I will always go back to my younger days and think of all the things that happened in MA that made me the person I am today. It is such an important place to me, and will always be my forever home.
This is not a real sign, but it makes me laugh since we have the reputation of being terrible drivers! Those crazy Massholes! I am proud to be one!
<a href="http://s1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/?action=view&current=mass.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb402/jacquelinepmiller/mass.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
I think I finally figured out how to imbed pictures in my blog, so here's to improvement! I hope it works!
Jimmy Buffett concert tomorrow night. I CANNOT wait to hang with Emily and Skye all day in the nice warm sun! Bring it on quickly, please!
Friday, May 6, 2011
Why not me?
I don't know a word that exists to describe the way I am feeling. Eight days ago, tornadoes ripped through the South. First, the town I lived in for the two years before this one was destroyed. Tuscaloosa, Alabama. It is not a town full of people that are well off. There are poor families, and poor college students everywhere. The housing is not the greatest to begin with. I wonder how the city will recover. Malls, apartments and homes were ripped apart. I have a lot of friends in that town and I went into panic mode while watching the weather channel. Picture after picture showed places that are familiar to me. Gone. People, dead. The numbers kept rising. I knew I would just have to wait. Wait. Wait. Wait, and pray, that none of those lost were people that I loved. I know that's a selfish thing, to wish they weren't mine is to wish they belonged to someone else. Days later I would finally get my messages that everyone I know and love is safe.
Eric and I were with his parents at their house. We kept watching the weather channel. No words were being spoken. We couldn't speak, our jaws were too busy being dropped to the ground because of the images we were seeing. Birmingham, Alabama was next. So much terror everywhere, yet we had not given one thought to the fact that we might be in danger. No, not us. Every storm so far had gone from lower Alabama and traveled over Northwest Georgia into Tennessee. "No," I thought to myself, "We will be fine." I got on the phone and invited friends to come stay with us. "It all seems to be missing us. We still have power, and haven't had a drop of rain. Come on down, we'll keep you all safe." How naive I am. Ugh. My friends arrived and we thought we were going to have a super slumber party. All of a sudden Eric drives quickly up our gravel driveway. I knew it wasn't going to be good before he got inside. He never drives quickly up the driveway because he is so careful about flinging the gravel everywhere. He came inside and told us the news. "The tornado is five minutes away from hitting Ringgold." "What? What do you mean it's actually HERE," I thought. We packed up and went across the street to take refuge in Nana's basement. There we sat for hours, wondering and waiting. Waiting for what? We didn't really know. I nervously word vomited all night because that's what I do when I'm nervous, and when I'm not nervous for that matter. I'm a talker. I can't help myself. I would talk to a wall for days if no one else was around to listen. I don't think silence makes me uncomfortable, I just love conversing with people and making them laugh. The girls were all inside nervously chatting while the brave boys were outside watching the storm pass by. We didn't know it at the time, but what we were watching was the EF tornado travel into Ringgold to destroy it.
I have felt like a nomad down here. I have people that I love and that love me, but I haven't had a sense of belonging to a community. I have such strong roots in my hometown in Belchertown, and I have yet to feel even the smallest inkling of that somewhere else. I am detached from the community of Ringgold, and yet I still struggle to make sense of this tragedy in my head. Eric grew up here. This is his Belchertown. It makes me sick to drive around and see the damage with him. I know he's acting brave for me, but I know how hurt he is inside. This is one time that his silence speaks volumes. I'm always after him to talk more, talk more, talk more. For once, he didn't need to say a word. All I had to do was picture my high school destroyed. All the places I made so many memories with friends, gone. Flattened. Nothing. I felt so guilty taking pictures of the damage. People would stare at me like I was a disease. "I know," I thought. I regret doing this just as much as you hate seeing me do it. I need to record these terrible, terrible images and memories for my parents up North to see. They need to see just how lucky they are to still have a daughter. My children will need to see these pictures someday. Whether we are living in Ringgold or Belchertown when we have children, they will need to know the unexplained wrath that can come on any given day, for no particular reason at all.
Do you ever wonder who is 'in charge' of natural disasters? People try to explain them in many different ways. Perhaps it is God, trying to cleanse us because he is upset with how we have been acting lately. I can't blame him for that. Perhaps it's not God vs. Science like we have been taught all these years. Maybe science is something God created. I mean, God can be hard to believe sometimes, but if the best those snooty scientists can come up with is 'the big bang,' then I'm all set believing in a higher power. My biggest fear is that it's not God at all. The more bad things happen, the more I see the devil. It seems like terrible things are happening more often, and that can't be a coincidence. God would never tornado his people intentionally. It has to be the work of the devil. It seems so random, but is it? We will never know. Why all those people in Ringgold, and not us? Why does a tornado destroy everything in its path but spare one random house? We were just a couple miles away. Our house is fine. We don't even have one leaf out of place in our trees. Why were we spared? I haven't slept much in the last week. I can't wrap my head around it. Every time I turn the key and walk into my beautiful, wonderful, untouched home, I feel the most intense guilt I have ever felt in my life. Why do we have a home while so many others now have nothing? Why not me?
Eric and I were with his parents at their house. We kept watching the weather channel. No words were being spoken. We couldn't speak, our jaws were too busy being dropped to the ground because of the images we were seeing. Birmingham, Alabama was next. So much terror everywhere, yet we had not given one thought to the fact that we might be in danger. No, not us. Every storm so far had gone from lower Alabama and traveled over Northwest Georgia into Tennessee. "No," I thought to myself, "We will be fine." I got on the phone and invited friends to come stay with us. "It all seems to be missing us. We still have power, and haven't had a drop of rain. Come on down, we'll keep you all safe." How naive I am. Ugh. My friends arrived and we thought we were going to have a super slumber party. All of a sudden Eric drives quickly up our gravel driveway. I knew it wasn't going to be good before he got inside. He never drives quickly up the driveway because he is so careful about flinging the gravel everywhere. He came inside and told us the news. "The tornado is five minutes away from hitting Ringgold." "What? What do you mean it's actually HERE," I thought. We packed up and went across the street to take refuge in Nana's basement. There we sat for hours, wondering and waiting. Waiting for what? We didn't really know. I nervously word vomited all night because that's what I do when I'm nervous, and when I'm not nervous for that matter. I'm a talker. I can't help myself. I would talk to a wall for days if no one else was around to listen. I don't think silence makes me uncomfortable, I just love conversing with people and making them laugh. The girls were all inside nervously chatting while the brave boys were outside watching the storm pass by. We didn't know it at the time, but what we were watching was the EF tornado travel into Ringgold to destroy it.
I have felt like a nomad down here. I have people that I love and that love me, but I haven't had a sense of belonging to a community. I have such strong roots in my hometown in Belchertown, and I have yet to feel even the smallest inkling of that somewhere else. I am detached from the community of Ringgold, and yet I still struggle to make sense of this tragedy in my head. Eric grew up here. This is his Belchertown. It makes me sick to drive around and see the damage with him. I know he's acting brave for me, but I know how hurt he is inside. This is one time that his silence speaks volumes. I'm always after him to talk more, talk more, talk more. For once, he didn't need to say a word. All I had to do was picture my high school destroyed. All the places I made so many memories with friends, gone. Flattened. Nothing. I felt so guilty taking pictures of the damage. People would stare at me like I was a disease. "I know," I thought. I regret doing this just as much as you hate seeing me do it. I need to record these terrible, terrible images and memories for my parents up North to see. They need to see just how lucky they are to still have a daughter. My children will need to see these pictures someday. Whether we are living in Ringgold or Belchertown when we have children, they will need to know the unexplained wrath that can come on any given day, for no particular reason at all.
Do you ever wonder who is 'in charge' of natural disasters? People try to explain them in many different ways. Perhaps it is God, trying to cleanse us because he is upset with how we have been acting lately. I can't blame him for that. Perhaps it's not God vs. Science like we have been taught all these years. Maybe science is something God created. I mean, God can be hard to believe sometimes, but if the best those snooty scientists can come up with is 'the big bang,' then I'm all set believing in a higher power. My biggest fear is that it's not God at all. The more bad things happen, the more I see the devil. It seems like terrible things are happening more often, and that can't be a coincidence. God would never tornado his people intentionally. It has to be the work of the devil. It seems so random, but is it? We will never know. Why all those people in Ringgold, and not us? Why does a tornado destroy everything in its path but spare one random house? We were just a couple miles away. Our house is fine. We don't even have one leaf out of place in our trees. Why were we spared? I haven't slept much in the last week. I can't wrap my head around it. Every time I turn the key and walk into my beautiful, wonderful, untouched home, I feel the most intense guilt I have ever felt in my life. Why do we have a home while so many others now have nothing? Why not me?
Monday, April 4, 2011
Our four legged angels
Here I sit, munching away on some Raisin Bran for lunch wondering what to blog about. I think and think and think, and nothing comes to me. I look down to the left and see my precious little angel, Toby, laying right up against my leg staring up at me like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. All of a sudden, I could write for days.
Every creature has a purpose. Spiders (although I loathe them entirely...) eat mosquitos (which I also loathe). Snakes eat mice. I immediately started to like snakes more than I used to when I found out that the #1 bite type that causes human deaths each year is from mice and rats. Snakes are welcome to eat those wretched, although adorable, creatures that threaten my life. So, my point...the life cycle, or circle of life. Thank you Elton for that song by the way. That moment in the Lion King still gives me chills.
Humans have managed to pinpoint what every creature is here for, or at least how they benefit us.
What do dogs do? Well, nothing. They do nothing and they do everything at the same time. They aren't here to eat little varmints to keep disease levels down. They aren't here to benefit the food chain. I see them as being God's greatest gift to us (other than Jesus, calm down.) I don't think it's a coincidence that Dog is God spelled backwards. I see more of God in dogs than anywhere else. They are here to watch over us. They become our little guardian angels here on Earth. I have read so many stories about dogs saving their owners, and some tragic accounts where some dogs sacrifice their lives to get someone out of a burning building safely. Sure, a human will occasionally do something heroic and selfless like that. But humans, for the most part, put themselves first. It's not a flaw, it's just an innate instinct we can't help. Dogs don't live for themselves. They live for us, and I see that more and more each day.
How can you resist that goofy little grin? It melts me every time Toby goes running in the yard. I get nervous every time that his beagle nose will pick up a scent and he will be gone, but he will always turn and look back to make sure I'm close behind. He turns his little head and gives me that 'come on mom, hurry up! Let's go see what's back here!' look, with one ear flipped up.
Tail wags are the best, so you always know where your dog stands. Happy, happier, happiest, depending on the speed. Toby's, when he's in his 'happiest' mood, will do this circle motion that we call the helicopter. His tail is adorable because it's in the shape of a question mark. All of this stuff is so simple, but it makes our days full of laughter and love.
We wake up every morning to baths of kisses that will not stop until we turn our heads because we need to breathe. He looks so excited that we finally woke up, like he has been waiting for us for hours. He's never worrying about what has to happen that day, that week, that month, or what bills are due when. The only thing he worries about is us.
If Eric and I argue, or one of us is in a bad mood, he's right there. Isn't it crazy that they just know right when you need them to snuggle up to you and give you a kiss. "Turn that frown upside down, mom," and it always works.
Dogs are so special, and I get irate when I see one being mistreated. They can't stand up and defend themselves. They can't pick their owners. If you can't love a dog the way you would love a child, DON'T GET ONE. General Buck is a dog that lives in our neighborhood. They 'love' him enough to slap a collar on him with his name and their phone number. Miraculously, his rabies shots are current. That's about as far as they go. This dog is starved for true love, and so we are more than happy to give it to him when he comes over. He comes over every day to play with Toby, and get his chin scratched by Eric and I. He loves it at our house. If I didn't think they would complain, I would snatch him right up and keep him. We make sure he is well fed and has all the treats he needs though. Those people don't deserve him!
I hate that dogs have such short lives, I really do. It makes me lose sleep knowing that Toby just turned four. What will we do without him? It just has to be because God can't do without them for much longer than 10-15 years. I've lost a dog, and it's some of the worst pain I've ever felt. I know the best remedy though. Go out, and find another one to love, who will love you right back with every ounce of himself. You never forget your other dogs, they have their paw print right on your heart forever. You just open your home and heart to a new little critter who needs a match. You heal each other, and a new friendship is born. I will never go without a dog. When that terrible, dreadful day comes when we will have to give Toby back to God, we will mourn and always miss him, but we will go out and find another one. We think we do dogs a favor by taking them in and loving them, but they are really the ones doing us the favor. They save us from the trials and tribulations of everyday life.
Every creature has a purpose. Spiders (although I loathe them entirely...) eat mosquitos (which I also loathe). Snakes eat mice. I immediately started to like snakes more than I used to when I found out that the #1 bite type that causes human deaths each year is from mice and rats. Snakes are welcome to eat those wretched, although adorable, creatures that threaten my life. So, my point...the life cycle, or circle of life. Thank you Elton for that song by the way. That moment in the Lion King still gives me chills.
Humans have managed to pinpoint what every creature is here for, or at least how they benefit us.
What do dogs do? Well, nothing. They do nothing and they do everything at the same time. They aren't here to eat little varmints to keep disease levels down. They aren't here to benefit the food chain. I see them as being God's greatest gift to us (other than Jesus, calm down.) I don't think it's a coincidence that Dog is God spelled backwards. I see more of God in dogs than anywhere else. They are here to watch over us. They become our little guardian angels here on Earth. I have read so many stories about dogs saving their owners, and some tragic accounts where some dogs sacrifice their lives to get someone out of a burning building safely. Sure, a human will occasionally do something heroic and selfless like that. But humans, for the most part, put themselves first. It's not a flaw, it's just an innate instinct we can't help. Dogs don't live for themselves. They live for us, and I see that more and more each day.
How can you resist that goofy little grin? It melts me every time Toby goes running in the yard. I get nervous every time that his beagle nose will pick up a scent and he will be gone, but he will always turn and look back to make sure I'm close behind. He turns his little head and gives me that 'come on mom, hurry up! Let's go see what's back here!' look, with one ear flipped up.
Tail wags are the best, so you always know where your dog stands. Happy, happier, happiest, depending on the speed. Toby's, when he's in his 'happiest' mood, will do this circle motion that we call the helicopter. His tail is adorable because it's in the shape of a question mark. All of this stuff is so simple, but it makes our days full of laughter and love.
We wake up every morning to baths of kisses that will not stop until we turn our heads because we need to breathe. He looks so excited that we finally woke up, like he has been waiting for us for hours. He's never worrying about what has to happen that day, that week, that month, or what bills are due when. The only thing he worries about is us.
If Eric and I argue, or one of us is in a bad mood, he's right there. Isn't it crazy that they just know right when you need them to snuggle up to you and give you a kiss. "Turn that frown upside down, mom," and it always works.
Dogs are so special, and I get irate when I see one being mistreated. They can't stand up and defend themselves. They can't pick their owners. If you can't love a dog the way you would love a child, DON'T GET ONE. General Buck is a dog that lives in our neighborhood. They 'love' him enough to slap a collar on him with his name and their phone number. Miraculously, his rabies shots are current. That's about as far as they go. This dog is starved for true love, and so we are more than happy to give it to him when he comes over. He comes over every day to play with Toby, and get his chin scratched by Eric and I. He loves it at our house. If I didn't think they would complain, I would snatch him right up and keep him. We make sure he is well fed and has all the treats he needs though. Those people don't deserve him!
I hate that dogs have such short lives, I really do. It makes me lose sleep knowing that Toby just turned four. What will we do without him? It just has to be because God can't do without them for much longer than 10-15 years. I've lost a dog, and it's some of the worst pain I've ever felt. I know the best remedy though. Go out, and find another one to love, who will love you right back with every ounce of himself. You never forget your other dogs, they have their paw print right on your heart forever. You just open your home and heart to a new little critter who needs a match. You heal each other, and a new friendship is born. I will never go without a dog. When that terrible, dreadful day comes when we will have to give Toby back to God, we will mourn and always miss him, but we will go out and find another one. We think we do dogs a favor by taking them in and loving them, but they are really the ones doing us the favor. They save us from the trials and tribulations of everyday life.
Monday, March 28, 2011
What's there to complain about?
I just joined the blog world, and after my first one I am already suffering from the very worst of writer's block.....or so I thought. I just realized that I thought I would use my blog as an outlet, to vent and rant about things I couldn't stand or things of that sort. The thing is, I have a GREAT life. I have nothing to complain about in my personal life. (At least for now!) Things are peachy!
I guess there is one thing that has me bumming. I am currently working as a substitute teacher, getting my name and face familiar to the schools I hope to be teaching in full time next year. Sometimes, the kids get me feeling depressed. I just can't imagine that I was like that just seven short years ago. Was I? Were we?
There are at least ten girls (and I stress the word girls there...) that are pregnant at the school I taught at today. That's not including the several that have already had their children. This school offers childcare. I get their point of view. They want these girls staying in school and getting their education. I applaud that aspect, but only that aspect. Maybe it's not encouraging girls to get pregnant, but it sure takes some of the fear out for them. They should understand that being careless has consequences, and I'm not so sure that the youth of America sees it that way right now. They get their nice big government check, pull child support from the poor, poor baby daddy who never wanted a kid, and they get a babysitter too? Come on. Don't make it easy for them. I'm not hating on mothers who had children at a young age, or before they planned to have them. Some girls become women early and can handle it. I know someone who had a baby in our senior year of high school and she is and has always been an incredible mom. The likelihood that ten girls in high school will be able to handle it? I don't like those odds. I hurt for those unborn children and it upsets me to know that schools are offering babysitting.
How many programs have been cut that steer these kids in the right direction? I remember D.A.R.E- Drug Abuse Resistance Education. Alright, maybe it's a program that we can do without, if parents are doing their jobs at home and educating their kids. They AREN'T. I had the program in fifth grade. I learned a lot. It was the first time I was exposed to all of it. I had no idea what guns and drugs looked like. A lot of parents don't like the idea of getting their children exposed. Why not? It's responsible and controlled exposure and education about the substances from the RIGHT people as opposed to the people trying to convince your child to give in. Come on, just try it once. It scared me out of smoking. All it took was seeing one nicotine filled lung, talking to one visitor with a hole in their neck from a tracheotomy, and knowing that one cigarette takes seven minutes off your life. I was sold. They went on to scare me out of all of it. You're young in fifth grade, but you have a strong sense of reasoning by then. You can figure out that life is a precious gift, so why would you throw it away on this crap? Great program. Barely anyone from my class went into hard drugs. I doubt if any did.
Health class. The next to go. I remember how awkward it was. No one likes to talk about STD's and sex and all of that when you're that age, but it sure helps. Everyone jokes about it in the hallways before they get there and everyone acts like it's yesterday's news. It's not. I was one of those kids, but I never knew anything about sex or any of that until health class. This class is not offered at the school I taught at today and I wonder if that's why there are so many kids being so blatantly irresponsible about having casual unprotected sex. If they aren't getting it from their parents, which most of them are not, then they NEED to get it somewhere. They need the facts about what it takes to raise a baby before they are going to get into bed. How much do diapers cost? How many will you need per year? Throw those figures at them, and I guarantee it stops at least three of those ten girls from being so careless. Maybe it doesn't save all of them, but maybe it saves most of them. It has me heartsick that we have to cut these programs. I know we are hurting for money, and I know they have to go before Math and English. I think schools can be a little more thoughtful of how they do their cutting and adding though. How is a school going to ADD something like lacrosse while they are taking away something else. I think that if something or someone's salary is getting cut, then nothing better be getting added.
I just had a flashback to the Maury Povich show. He had a drill sergeant that gave teenage girls that were intentionally trying to get pregnant a reality check. Here's a fake baby that cries, poops, screams, pees on you, etc. You're on your own. I never saw one girl that still wanted one after that. Maybe that should be a required class project. Haha, wouldn't that just be ridiculous. It's extreme, but from where I'm sitting, I don't think it's the worst idea.
I guess there is one thing that has me bumming. I am currently working as a substitute teacher, getting my name and face familiar to the schools I hope to be teaching in full time next year. Sometimes, the kids get me feeling depressed. I just can't imagine that I was like that just seven short years ago. Was I? Were we?
There are at least ten girls (and I stress the word girls there...) that are pregnant at the school I taught at today. That's not including the several that have already had their children. This school offers childcare. I get their point of view. They want these girls staying in school and getting their education. I applaud that aspect, but only that aspect. Maybe it's not encouraging girls to get pregnant, but it sure takes some of the fear out for them. They should understand that being careless has consequences, and I'm not so sure that the youth of America sees it that way right now. They get their nice big government check, pull child support from the poor, poor baby daddy who never wanted a kid, and they get a babysitter too? Come on. Don't make it easy for them. I'm not hating on mothers who had children at a young age, or before they planned to have them. Some girls become women early and can handle it. I know someone who had a baby in our senior year of high school and she is and has always been an incredible mom. The likelihood that ten girls in high school will be able to handle it? I don't like those odds. I hurt for those unborn children and it upsets me to know that schools are offering babysitting.
How many programs have been cut that steer these kids in the right direction? I remember D.A.R.E- Drug Abuse Resistance Education. Alright, maybe it's a program that we can do without, if parents are doing their jobs at home and educating their kids. They AREN'T. I had the program in fifth grade. I learned a lot. It was the first time I was exposed to all of it. I had no idea what guns and drugs looked like. A lot of parents don't like the idea of getting their children exposed. Why not? It's responsible and controlled exposure and education about the substances from the RIGHT people as opposed to the people trying to convince your child to give in. Come on, just try it once. It scared me out of smoking. All it took was seeing one nicotine filled lung, talking to one visitor with a hole in their neck from a tracheotomy, and knowing that one cigarette takes seven minutes off your life. I was sold. They went on to scare me out of all of it. You're young in fifth grade, but you have a strong sense of reasoning by then. You can figure out that life is a precious gift, so why would you throw it away on this crap? Great program. Barely anyone from my class went into hard drugs. I doubt if any did.
Health class. The next to go. I remember how awkward it was. No one likes to talk about STD's and sex and all of that when you're that age, but it sure helps. Everyone jokes about it in the hallways before they get there and everyone acts like it's yesterday's news. It's not. I was one of those kids, but I never knew anything about sex or any of that until health class. This class is not offered at the school I taught at today and I wonder if that's why there are so many kids being so blatantly irresponsible about having casual unprotected sex. If they aren't getting it from their parents, which most of them are not, then they NEED to get it somewhere. They need the facts about what it takes to raise a baby before they are going to get into bed. How much do diapers cost? How many will you need per year? Throw those figures at them, and I guarantee it stops at least three of those ten girls from being so careless. Maybe it doesn't save all of them, but maybe it saves most of them. It has me heartsick that we have to cut these programs. I know we are hurting for money, and I know they have to go before Math and English. I think schools can be a little more thoughtful of how they do their cutting and adding though. How is a school going to ADD something like lacrosse while they are taking away something else. I think that if something or someone's salary is getting cut, then nothing better be getting added.
I just had a flashback to the Maury Povich show. He had a drill sergeant that gave teenage girls that were intentionally trying to get pregnant a reality check. Here's a fake baby that cries, poops, screams, pees on you, etc. You're on your own. I never saw one girl that still wanted one after that. Maybe that should be a required class project. Haha, wouldn't that just be ridiculous. It's extreme, but from where I'm sitting, I don't think it's the worst idea.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Yankee in the South
Eric's father loves to tease me about being a Yankee. Although it's not usually used with the most love, in this case, it is. I used to take offense, but then I realized just how proud I was to be a Yankee. I was born and raised a Massachusetts girl and wouldn't have had it any other way. I love the Red Sox, Celtics and Patriots, probably more than any girl should. I have three brothers so I kind of ended up being more of a fourth boy than a girl. (That is NOT a complaint!) I live for sports and never even knew what makeup was until a couple of years ago. I confess that I still don't do much and I have no intelligence on the subject. I can clumsily put on some eye makeup, but that's as good as it gets. My skin is usually alright so I don't have too much need for concealer and powders, but I do have a popped blood vessel on my nose that I just can't stand to look at. I hate that I can see it in every picture of myself. It's one of those reminders of the mistakes you make while you are younger. "Don't pop your zits," my mom would always warn. What does she know? She never had a zit in her life. (Truth.) I can't go to school with this huge thing on my nose, so popped away I did. It kept coming back, and I kept popping. Well, now I have a permanent red dot to remind me about all the other times I didn't listen to my mother when I so obviously should have. You were right mom, and I'll never forget it as I'm raising my own daughter someday. I'm starting to feel more comfortable about it now. Confidence is something I've never lacked, and I have both of my parents to thank for that. Although I admit to being confident, I'll also admit to having a couple of things that bug me. Yea, I have a small red dot on my nose, but it's just another thing that makes me unique. I'm over that one. Yea, I don't have perfect teeth, and that used to always bother me. It bothered me up until last year right before my wedding. All it takes is a loving (at the time) fiancé to tell me that he loved my teeth and I was fine. They aren't perfect, but who wants perfection anyway? What a bore that must be. Every girl has doubts about herself and it takes finding their match to make them forget about them. My biggest tribulation? My hair.
Years ago, for no apparent reason, I started losing my hair. Imagine the havoc that wreaked on my confidence. Of all the things that can conquer a girl's confidence...hair loss...at age 20? How unfair the world seemed to me. I wasn't just losing a little. I lost my entire left eyebrow, most of my right one, and a few substantial clumps out of my head. I have thin, long hair. It clearly showed that something was 'wrong.' Each day I woke up with more hair on my pillow. Every time I brushed my hair, more fell. It fell out in class.You can't help but everyone is watching, even when they aren't. I tried everything to make it come back. I took every kind of steroid you can dream up, used creams that burned and turned my skin red, and the worst of all, I had cortisone injections in my scalp. Over a hundred of them. I can't explain the pain. I knew they wouldn't work, but I couldn't sit there and just let it happen. I'm proactive, not a victim. The last doctor I visited told me that most of it was probably stress and my mental attitude about it. I wasn't stressed, so it came down to attitude. Throughout the ordeal, I started becoming the type of girlfriend that I hate watching girls be. Needy, jealous, distrusting, you name it, I was living it. I was reading his emails and having my friends tell me where he was. He never deserved any of it. He stuck by me when anyone else surely would have left. Then one night, he sat me down and said the most loving thing a boyfriend could say. "I love you. You don't seem to have a problem with the fact that my hair is going to fall out in a few years, so why would I care if yours fell out? I don't. I'm not leaving." That, my friends, is the moment I fell in love with Eric Miller. It was such a short statement, but packed so much power. We were still young, and he used the words, 'in a few years,' which showed me so much commitment. He was going to support me no matter what, no matter how hard it got. The next day, I went off my steroids, decided I would embrace it, and I swear it stopped falling out the minute I decided I was fine with it. Attitude is everything. I am a believer in that now.
It turned out to be alopecia, a random act of hair falling out. The doctors couldn't really explain it or tell me what to expect in the future. Some people go bald and it never grows back, some lose a little and it doesn't grow back. Some regrow it, then lose it several more times. Some lose it once, grow it back, and that's that. That's what my scenario is, or has been anyway. I don't know if it will ever fall out again, but if it does, I know how to handle it. I know exactly what I'll do. Watching my aunt go through chemo, and seeing so many cancer patients try to hide their baldness the way I hid mine, I gained a new perspective. I am still in awe of the courage of women who proudly display their bald heads. "I am a woman, I am bald, and I am still strong," is the message it sends. If it ever happens to me again, I hope I can be so courageous.
Wow, tangent. I do that a lot so I hope you won't find me difficult to follow. Back to New England. I think summers in New England are unmatched, as are the falls. Perfect temperatures, and incredible foliage. It's a photographer's dream place. I suppose you could also say that winter and spring are unmatched, but it wouldn't be in the same way. Each winter you can expect at least fifteen feet of snow, usually more. The snow isn't so bad, it's the ice that makes it tough. Driving is scary, but once you get experience it's not so bad. All you have to do is take it painfully slow and expect the occasional fish tail. Winter is beautiful, until the first salting of the roads. The beautiful pristine whiteness turns into a dirty, sandy brown mess until April. The springs are overwhelmed with rainy days, one after the other, and the occasional thirty degree day. You endure these seasons cooped up in your homes, getting to know your family and friends better than you ever thought you could. Finally, summer comes and we flock outside to get some sun. Eric hates the cold, and he hates winter in general. I am glad to have grown up in a place that truly has four seasons. I love skiing. It's one of my favorite activities, and without winter, I never would have learned. My favorite childhood memories with my brothers revolve around winter. Snowball fights, playing tackle basketball outside after a fresh powder, the most incredible snow forts you have ever seen with tunnels and everything, and the most ridiculous 6 foot (and taller) snowmen in the backyard, only because dad didn't want us to mess up the front yard. Winter is a dream for kids, so I hope I can raise my kids around the snow.
Although I loved growing up with the snow, I have been totally delighted with the weather in the south. I can't help but rub it in to my friends and family up north. The weather is literally perfect here, and they are still so very cold. The cold will stay until at least the beginning of April, where the torrential rains will start. No snow here. No rain here. It is just beautiful. I love the weather here, at least for now. I'm not a fan of rampant humidity and 100 degree heat, so I'm hoping my first full summer in the south will take it easy on me! Someone will just have to get a boat, and then that struggle will be conquered. Weather is definitely something to love here.
Another thing to love is obviously the food! Momma Miller cooks for us all the time, and I admit to being extremely intimidated at the thought of being a married woman in the south. So far, it has me defeated. I haven't cooked many times, and a couple of the times were just downright awful. One time we threw it away and went and got Zaxby's. Ego shock there. I guess I just have to take off one bite at a time instead of expecting myself to just pick right up and be as good as Eric's mom is. That will take years, if it's even possible at all. I need to formulate a plan, and right now I'm just clueless.
Next topic is hospitality. I have fought many a person on this. Northerners are not rude. That's a terrible stereotype. Northerners are excellent, loving people. However, I will admit that when you are in line at a grocery store in the south, you will meet the person in front of you and behind you, whether you want to or not! They just wreak of friendliness. People just love to talk to strangers here and make them feel welcome. I've had a few bad days and had them turned around by some stranger telling me I looked beautiful today, or cheer up, you're just so pretty when you smile. In the North, sometimes we go around with blinders on, so focused on the next task in our busy life, that we don't want to necessarily want to initiate a conversation with Joe Blow in front of us. I love the friendliness of just about everyone here. It makes me smile more and more. Smiling is contagious people!
I'll leave it at that for now. I will try not to write a book each time I blog. This was my introduction to the blogosphere, so, here I am! I truly hope you like it.
Years ago, for no apparent reason, I started losing my hair. Imagine the havoc that wreaked on my confidence. Of all the things that can conquer a girl's confidence...hair loss...at age 20? How unfair the world seemed to me. I wasn't just losing a little. I lost my entire left eyebrow, most of my right one, and a few substantial clumps out of my head. I have thin, long hair. It clearly showed that something was 'wrong.' Each day I woke up with more hair on my pillow. Every time I brushed my hair, more fell. It fell out in class.You can't help but everyone is watching, even when they aren't. I tried everything to make it come back. I took every kind of steroid you can dream up, used creams that burned and turned my skin red, and the worst of all, I had cortisone injections in my scalp. Over a hundred of them. I can't explain the pain. I knew they wouldn't work, but I couldn't sit there and just let it happen. I'm proactive, not a victim. The last doctor I visited told me that most of it was probably stress and my mental attitude about it. I wasn't stressed, so it came down to attitude. Throughout the ordeal, I started becoming the type of girlfriend that I hate watching girls be. Needy, jealous, distrusting, you name it, I was living it. I was reading his emails and having my friends tell me where he was. He never deserved any of it. He stuck by me when anyone else surely would have left. Then one night, he sat me down and said the most loving thing a boyfriend could say. "I love you. You don't seem to have a problem with the fact that my hair is going to fall out in a few years, so why would I care if yours fell out? I don't. I'm not leaving." That, my friends, is the moment I fell in love with Eric Miller. It was such a short statement, but packed so much power. We were still young, and he used the words, 'in a few years,' which showed me so much commitment. He was going to support me no matter what, no matter how hard it got. The next day, I went off my steroids, decided I would embrace it, and I swear it stopped falling out the minute I decided I was fine with it. Attitude is everything. I am a believer in that now.
It turned out to be alopecia, a random act of hair falling out. The doctors couldn't really explain it or tell me what to expect in the future. Some people go bald and it never grows back, some lose a little and it doesn't grow back. Some regrow it, then lose it several more times. Some lose it once, grow it back, and that's that. That's what my scenario is, or has been anyway. I don't know if it will ever fall out again, but if it does, I know how to handle it. I know exactly what I'll do. Watching my aunt go through chemo, and seeing so many cancer patients try to hide their baldness the way I hid mine, I gained a new perspective. I am still in awe of the courage of women who proudly display their bald heads. "I am a woman, I am bald, and I am still strong," is the message it sends. If it ever happens to me again, I hope I can be so courageous.
Wow, tangent. I do that a lot so I hope you won't find me difficult to follow. Back to New England. I think summers in New England are unmatched, as are the falls. Perfect temperatures, and incredible foliage. It's a photographer's dream place. I suppose you could also say that winter and spring are unmatched, but it wouldn't be in the same way. Each winter you can expect at least fifteen feet of snow, usually more. The snow isn't so bad, it's the ice that makes it tough. Driving is scary, but once you get experience it's not so bad. All you have to do is take it painfully slow and expect the occasional fish tail. Winter is beautiful, until the first salting of the roads. The beautiful pristine whiteness turns into a dirty, sandy brown mess until April. The springs are overwhelmed with rainy days, one after the other, and the occasional thirty degree day. You endure these seasons cooped up in your homes, getting to know your family and friends better than you ever thought you could. Finally, summer comes and we flock outside to get some sun. Eric hates the cold, and he hates winter in general. I am glad to have grown up in a place that truly has four seasons. I love skiing. It's one of my favorite activities, and without winter, I never would have learned. My favorite childhood memories with my brothers revolve around winter. Snowball fights, playing tackle basketball outside after a fresh powder, the most incredible snow forts you have ever seen with tunnels and everything, and the most ridiculous 6 foot (and taller) snowmen in the backyard, only because dad didn't want us to mess up the front yard. Winter is a dream for kids, so I hope I can raise my kids around the snow.
Although I loved growing up with the snow, I have been totally delighted with the weather in the south. I can't help but rub it in to my friends and family up north. The weather is literally perfect here, and they are still so very cold. The cold will stay until at least the beginning of April, where the torrential rains will start. No snow here. No rain here. It is just beautiful. I love the weather here, at least for now. I'm not a fan of rampant humidity and 100 degree heat, so I'm hoping my first full summer in the south will take it easy on me! Someone will just have to get a boat, and then that struggle will be conquered. Weather is definitely something to love here.
Another thing to love is obviously the food! Momma Miller cooks for us all the time, and I admit to being extremely intimidated at the thought of being a married woman in the south. So far, it has me defeated. I haven't cooked many times, and a couple of the times were just downright awful. One time we threw it away and went and got Zaxby's. Ego shock there. I guess I just have to take off one bite at a time instead of expecting myself to just pick right up and be as good as Eric's mom is. That will take years, if it's even possible at all. I need to formulate a plan, and right now I'm just clueless.
Next topic is hospitality. I have fought many a person on this. Northerners are not rude. That's a terrible stereotype. Northerners are excellent, loving people. However, I will admit that when you are in line at a grocery store in the south, you will meet the person in front of you and behind you, whether you want to or not! They just wreak of friendliness. People just love to talk to strangers here and make them feel welcome. I've had a few bad days and had them turned around by some stranger telling me I looked beautiful today, or cheer up, you're just so pretty when you smile. In the North, sometimes we go around with blinders on, so focused on the next task in our busy life, that we don't want to necessarily want to initiate a conversation with Joe Blow in front of us. I love the friendliness of just about everyone here. It makes me smile more and more. Smiling is contagious people!
I'll leave it at that for now. I will try not to write a book each time I blog. This was my introduction to the blogosphere, so, here I am! I truly hope you like it.
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