January

This month flew by. Looking ahead into this year, January seemed like the perfect time to get organized, do a little lounging, and generally muse about the good things. These things were accomplished mind you, but somehow it felt more bustling and hectic than a normal month of all the expected things. We started our month by celebrating Big Bubba Brett's Birthday. We had two of our favorite couples over for Brett's favorite dinner followed by his favorite decadent chocolate cake. I love celebrating that guy. He's the best thing that's happened to my life.

Just a few days later we had a celebration for little Olivia. We hosted Ellen and Lee's baby shower at our folks' house and had 50 of their friends come through to rub Ellen's round belly. Ellen hated all of the attention. Lee dazzled the crowd. Brett ate most of the mini-quiches. It was a good time. Olivia is scheduled to come early but Ellen could blow at any minute.

Beautiful Chelsea made heaps these cookies for the baby-shower. Isn't she amazing? (She recently started a business making personalized cookies for all kinds of occasions and they're SO exciting.) 

I did some girlie flower arrangements and Dad dazzled with his food spread. Mom prepared the house and fussed over plates and platters and all the little things that go unnoticed when properly executed. It's a thankless job. 

Ellen and Lee in a sea of baby gifts.

Bob moved into an old folks home in Mt. Pleasant, where he has two attendants who argue over which one is his new girlfriend. On a bustling, blowout Friday Carolyn had a birthday, a retirement, and a husband with a hip-replacement surgery. Aunt Georgia continues to delight me with Wonka Runts. She once bought me a five pound bag of them. It took 4 years to get through them and I was bringing them as potluck dishes.
Ari and Nate had a great little oyster roast where we got to spend time with the newest addition to their family, Ms. Magnolia. But everyone calls her Maggie.

I've been meeting with "industry professionals" to pick their brains and weasel out tips and tricks to help make ole
Lux n' U more profitable. I'm gearing up for the wedding onslaught and spent a whole day getting the shop ready.

Somewhere in there I hurt my back and have had to go talk to a different kind of industry professional who's teaching me all the ways to care for myself and stand properly and it makes me feel a smidge juvenile. "Stand like this. Turn your feet out, Laura." I went in for a stretching this morning and it's the closest I've ever been to feeling like a real athlete. There I was, a strange man smashing my leg up into a painful position. Yep, this must be what the pros feel like. 
One of my florist friends slipped a disc doing a little mundane job I do every wedding weekend. She had to have emergency surgery and find a team of un-trained college girls to do her weddings for several weeks. This is a frightening story. You know I'd rather wallow in my pain than seek medical help. Consider me spooked.

In bad news, Sweet Budds has a malignant lump on his side that's being removed next week for tests. I'm scared and sad... but nothing gets Buddy down.

Brett and I found an exciting secret spot on a dog walk last weekend with lots of trees and marsh-views and this great dock at the end. The girls romped and leapt and had so much fun that they slept away that entire afternoon. 

With the cool but warm weather we've had, all the camellias in town have busted loose and it's one of my favorite sights. There are lots of confused flowers already blooming and even though the sight delights me, it's too soon and I'm worried about the flow of flower things. I hate winter, but it's a necessary evil. I don't want to miss out on the daffodils because we didn't have enough chilly days.

My first wee wedding of the year was last weekend and it's kicked off my "Spring " season. Coming up in February, we've got a Seabrook celebration, a Dunes West dance party, and Mills House marriage. 

Wait Wait, Pause For a Second

I'm not sure if the restructuring was a silly notion or if I've just hit a busy patch here but I most definitely don't have time to write new stories. I started a few there at the beginning of this month when I was prioritizing different things. I sure liked the plan. The last four-ish weeks have been the most involved and dare I say "business-y" that I've experienced. I've been testing out some new marketing tactics and I reckon they're working because I've had more emails than I can get to in a day and that's a new concept for me. I also upgraded myself to a proposal writing software that would help me spit them out faster so I've been learning the new system and entering in all the information for each wedding this year. This means lots of phone call tutorials from the tech-people (they're awfully nice) and emailing myself as a tester client. It gets confusing. But I'm stoked about the new software. Boy it's exciting and has so many features I'd have never even dreamed up!
I have organized myself for a different kind of business running for this year - a restructuring, if you will - and so far it's proved to be successful. I've got more weddings just for this Spring than I normally book in a whole year. That's scary and exciting and I'm a little worried about keeping up the momentum. We've even got to move things around in the garage to make room for my growing inventory and flower ego.

So you can imagine that a low-energy, pretend business person like me has just been crapping out at the end of the day. We've also had a number of social outings taking up our weekends which is equal parts fun and tiresome. Did you know we're in a book club? And we had Brett's birthday and Ellen's baby shower and who has time to write stories about Mom putting cat crap in Dad's suitcases? Actually, I did finally, after all this time, come up with an idea for a novel.  I've written the first two pages. So there.

My point is, I just may need to restructure the restructuring until things calm down a bit and I can sit still without falling asleep. So, I'll instate a mini-restructuring for now. Still some fun writing bits here and there but also some family updates and personal rants.

So enjoy this photo of Pippa feeling so relaxed.
Her feet!

Unfinished Story #1

“Sir, would you like to tell us what in your bag?” This particular TSA staff member seemed to have bought his vest from Baby Gap.

“Pardon?”

“Sir, this will all be easier if you work with us.” another staff member chimed in.

“What do you mean?” my Dad asked. For a well-traveled and seasoned member of society, he conveys the most genuine look of innocence when he is confused. My Dad is a manly man: strong, hairy, and has big, calloused hands. He delights in his manliness and thinks it a great prize to be a man. The most wonderful part of manly men are when they break character: when you catch them giggling or delighting in something trivial, like a birthday cake. It would never occur to Dad that his bewildered expressions or the way he swings his toes around to theme songs would be the things that made him so endearing and revered.

The agent busting out of his vest motioned with his head and Dad was surrounded by the TSA.

“I’m going to need you to come with me.”

. . . . . .

At some point during my Dad’s travelling career, my Mom began packing cat paraphernalia into Dad’s suitcases. My parents are very different people. For every virile and bold trait of my Dad’s, my Mom has a delightful and polite contradiction. She’s a Southern lady; gentle and kind and harbors away a wicked sense of humor that would shock all of her church friends. My Mom’s brand of humor is often lost on Dad. His hearty guffaws were mostly prompted by bathroom humor and the misfortunes of others while my Mom was easily entertained by the unexpected and the absurd.

The cat crap Mom tucked between his button-downs was placed purely to surprise and disgust Dad when he finally made it to his hotel and unpacked his things. Dad thought it is not manly to like cats. so Mom enjoyed imagining his eye-roll as he flung a cat calendar across his hotel room.

Post 9/11, the efficiency with which Dad could glide through an airport was lost to the depths of the good old days, along with the freedom to perform a much needed mid-flight shave. Though proudly born in the USA, Dad’s parents passed along their Lebanese noses and swarthy complexions, so in the wake of a Middle Eastern born tragedy, Dad was selected for “random” searches each Tuesday morning as he set off for that week’s collection of business meetings. This had a two-fold outcome. Not only was my impatient father held up at security while his bags were unpacked piece by piece, but the cat crap became a public display. Mom was enlivened by this news and her feline schemes grew alongside Dad’s humiliation, packing a last minute stuffed kitten or a photo album of cats from years past. On one occasion, Dad looked over during his search and noticed a framed picture of their cat, Googus, propped up on top of his toiletry bag, facing out for the crowds to enjoy. Onlookers chuckled at my Dad who only glared that that good-humored security agent.  

. . . . . .

“The package in your suitcase, Sir. What’s in it?” The head of security sat Dad down in a small interrogation room in some unknown part of the airport. Dad realized he might be in real trouble. What kind of cat crap could cause this commotion? He was flying to Tennessee for a wedding and Mom had packed a gift for the couple on top of his suit. He hadn’t concerned himself with what was inside. 

“I don’t know.” Dad said honestly.

“You don’t know?”

“It’s a wedding gift. My wife put it in there.”

"We’re going to open the box, Sir."

“Ok. Sure.” Dad said, being as agreeable as possible. His nose already made him a suspicious airport character.  He picked up his phone to call Mom and she answered his call with a happy, singsong 'Hello'.

“Nancy,” Dad shot at her, “What’s in the box?”

“Huh?” she said.

“The wedding gift. What is it?”

“Steak knives!” Mom responded happily, pleased with the thoughtful notion. And then she gasped a sharp inhale and burst into tears.

“I gotta go!” and Dad hung up the phone. 

The next thirty minutes inched by....

A Restructuring

Since no one answered my questions about what sorts of things they'd like to read on this worthless blogspace, I've decided to stop trying to entertain you. I will now focus my blogspace on themed items I haven't settled on yet.

Sometimes I'll come across a writer or speaker or comedian who I relate to in someway or maybe I just find them interesting and different and then I binge on that person. It's a treat to hear someone else describe things exactly how you would if you could be so eloquent and wise.
So I'll watch their show or listen to each of the podcasts and I wind up overdosing on that person and suddenly, being able to anticipate their comments becomes kind of annoying, or maybe I hate the way they pronounce that one word. You realize that everyone is repetitive and predictable. Soon I'm sick of this new person. I still love them but I don't need to hang out as often anymore. That's how I feel about myself when I read the blog.

So, let's nix the Lu-thoughts and think more about stories. Reports, ideas, and creative writings. I've got heaps of blurbs I've written that I never do anything with. I don't share 'em. I don't finish 'em. Often, I don't even remember them and when I find them I'm shocked that I wrote that.

I'll start a fresh year of blog posts with intentions to re-enliven.... myself. For you.
I hope it doesn't bore you.