Month 3 - In Photos

March was a big, busy month and I have lots of bad phone photos to share. I do feel that I've spent the last few weeks in a home bubble, not really visiting with my family expect for Sunday dinners and babysitting my little stoic niece. I've loved being able to walk to Ellen and Lee's place, and do so at least a few times each week. Ellen shows up at my house and we walk over to the park to push Olivia in the swing. It feels very adult and parenty. I think I'm just about to win Livvy over. I spent a whole day with her while Ellen and Lee were out and she let me make her laugh and AND she came over to me and lifted up her stubby arms. That's baby language for "Pick me up, you comforting love of mine." She's never asked me to pick her up before. 

Bubbles and I welcomed the nice weather with a coffee picnic in the park. We took the girls with us to continue their practice of watching other humans and dogs walk by without sounding off alarming barks. It went well, actually. They're becoming wise with age and the ever-present threat of voltage to the neck.

We've done some big yard work. We've laid sod, planted old things, watered new things, and schemed for the upcoming Spite Garden Revival Tour.

I went on a lunch date with my beautiful mama...

... and jumped back into wedding season. I particularly loved this bouquet. 

Here is a picture of Grace that exemplifies her existence (isolated, shades drawn, uninterested in nearby activity) and a picture of Pippa, unfazed by anything I do to her. 

We've had a couple of tasty weekend brunches with Ellie and Caroline ...

... one of which resulted in my new favorite photo of EisenEars.

I also finally harassed Brett long enough that he caved and came with me to Wadmalaw to look at a property I've had my eye on for a few months. We love it. We just aren't sure about the distance from town. Are we too young to live in the boonies? Why did I have to inherit Grandma's obsession with land? Why can't I just enjoy scrapbooking and making popcorn garlands? I can't afford this hobby.

Unrelated, I finished my book!

And finally, after all this time, Hayden and Jenny had their wedding. They kept their original date and got married in their backyard last April. They postponed the wedding celebration to October of last year and then moved it again to March of this year. They were excited to party and maybe even a little more excited just to finally have it done. 

This is the only picture the two of them that I have and boy oh boy do I hope to get my hands on more. It was a beautiful party with glittery candles and cascading greenery. The people watching was top notch. People slipped on the dance floor, tumbled into bushes, one woman's dress ripped, etc. 

What's not to love?

Writing Prompt: Memories That Make You Feel Warm

I’ve written before about the collection of memories I have that would serve to torture me if I was ever kidnapped and kept in a shipping container for several weeks. They are cozy home memories, foreign adventures, and moments of heart-racing tenderness. When I think of these things I feel the warmest kind of sorrow that wraps you up in a comfortable blanket and hold you until you fall asleep. They are wonderful memories. And they are over now.

And it’s not that they can't be revisited or even reattempted. Every Sunday dinner is a representation of my wonderful childhood. I could certainly fly back to Scotland or Greece or New Zealand and stand where I stood once before. But whatever it is about a moment in time that stands out amongst all the memories and days and breaths of your life is much to specific and undefinable to ever recreate. That’s why I love nostalgia. 

When for a split second your brain short-circuits and pauses on a sensation from years ago and you feel fourteen years old again, sitting in homeroom on a cloudy morning or you’re twenty-three starting a new job. These moments aren't really even memories but your brain forgets where you are in your story and flips through a few pages to find the present. For a moment you do go back in time and its usually sickening, wistful, or exhilarating. And you can’t hold on to it either. Your brain quickly remembers the page you’re on and drops you right back into the present. 

I feel warm when I think about the holidays and rainy days and lazy dock days. Oh but I'm a sucker for morning light coming through an airplane window. I love morning on an overnight flight. The real morning, not the simulated one. People slowly open the shades and the flight attendants fill carafes with hot coffee. You’re almost there. It’s so hopeful and joyful and sleepy.

ikea ihop, & ibrows

With all the excitement of Ellen moving into her new place, the Union gals decided a trip to ikea was in order. Ellen needs the minimally priced bits and bobs available to the masses at the big Swedish home good store. I'm a big fan of ikea. Sure, I'll spend $2 on a trendy pillow cover. By the time my tastes have changed from boho-beachy to masculine-mountain-lodge, that cloth sack will be but a collection of funky fibers. (But if I'm being honest, everything I've ever bought from ikea is still going strong.) 

The closest ikea is in Charlotte, so we packed up Lee's big car and left Olivia in the dust. 

Mom drove while Ellen and I sang show tunes. It was just like old times. Ellen squirmed around a bit, feeling strange to leave her baby overnight for the first time and then she laid down and fell right to sleep. 

Ellen woke up from her nap as the Ellen she used to be before she had a baby. She pulled up a map of shops surrounding our hotel and worked out an eating and shopping schedule while occasionally chastising Mom for driving too slowly. 

"Mom, if we get there by four we can hit World Market and Hobby Lobby before we eat dinner!" Mom was driving just fine. We came upon a Friday-afternoon traffic blob that delayed us a smidge and Ellen reminded us that she could have made the drive in just three hours. "There is an Outback real close to the hotel. Let's say we eat there, we can get back to the hotel and be in bed by 8:30." Mom and I quietly mused in our gentle ways of existing while Ellen mapped the distance from our hotel to an ihop to the ikea. "How about ihop for breakfast tomorrow? If we get up around 7:30 we can get to ihop early so that we can have a relaxing breakfast and then get to ikea when it opens at 9:00. We need to get there early!" We were all actually quite excited about the ihop idea. 

We pulled into Charlotte around 4:30 and Ellen hastily scampered into our hotel. Mom and I slowly brought up the rear. We did a quick refresh and were in the shopping center across the street by 5:00. We "hit" three stores. Mom and Ellen both "hit" places, and something about this endears them to me in a unique way. 

"How was your trip. Mom?" I may ask.

"It was great. We hit a few good stores and a great seafood restaurant!"

By 6:30 we were ready for supper and had all loosely agreed on the nearby Outback steakhouse. We immediately noticed that the parking lot was packed and that many of the cars had entire families inside. We chalked this up to "city life" and carried on into the restaurant where they told us it would be a 30 minute wait. They asked us to standby in our car and said they would text when our table was ready. Mom was the least amused by this but she and Ellen figured it would take just as long to find another place with a shorter wait, so we hopped back into the car and waited. 

We were not far into the downtime when Ellen and Mom became a little testy. Mom in particular seemed outraged by the number of people around. We were sitting next to a three way stop in the parking lot. I noticed how many cars didn't actually stop at all, and it inspired to me to begin narrating The 56th Annual Stop Sign Competition. We would watch as a car would come along the main drag and slowly put on the brakes. Would they stop? Nearly stop? Roll right on through? The anticipation was exhilarating. Contestants were graded on an A+ to F- scale, though failure to slow down even a little bit resulted in instant disqualification. I'm proud to tell you that I had Mom and Ellen cackling with delight. I felt like a hero. I narrated the Stop Sign Competition for thirty minutes and that's when the wait became too much for my audience. 

"Well that's it for us today at the 56th Annual Stop Sign Competition. 1st Place goes to the family man in the red SUV, stopping for an entire three count before moving on. 2nd Place goes to that sleepy woman who maintained a full stop while mid-yawn. 3rd Place is a three-way tie to that polite grouping who had a patience standoff in the intersection. 

Join us next year to see the added obstacles for our newest round of contestants. Roadside complications include; thugs with guns, handicapped veteran crossing, suspicious backpack, and an occasional hooker. See how next year's contestants stand up to the challenge at the 57th Annual Stop Sign Competition."

Ellen called the hostess desk in the Outback, politely asking how much longer. They had no record of Ellen on the waitlist and Mom became incensed. They had us come inside to wait another 15 minutes and even though Mom was wearing a mask I could tell she was giving the whole place the stink-eye. She felt better as soon as they put warm bread and butter in front of her. 

Just as planned, we were back at the hotel and Ellen was in bed before 9:00. Ellen darted through washing her face, brushing her teeth, and running through the schedule for tomorrow. "So, up at 7:00 -7:30, ihop by 8:00, outside of ikea at 9:00. Sound good? Ok. Goodnight!" She jumped into bed, whipped the covers up over her head, and rolled over. 

Mom and I stayed up watching a movie and then I wandered into the bathroom to discover the horrors of proper lighting. We have bad lighting in our bathroom at home. I can't see pimples and straggling hairs and this oblivion allows me to live a blissful life. Here, in the Holiday Inn Express bathroom, lit by harsh fluorescents, I discovered eyebrow hairs I haven't seen since my address changed three years ago. I've always only had one big eyebrow. I make a point of tweezing a big space in the middle so that it looks like I have two. But here I noticed that my eyebrows almost continue right into my hairline. I basically have a band of fur that wraps around the top half of my head. Then I looked down at my mustache. MY MUSTACHE! I was appalled. How has no one said anything to me? Do I not have true friends? I didn't pack tweezers in my overnight bag so I became fixated on my facial hair for the remainder of our trek. 

Ellen couldn't stand it and woke us up around 6:45. She was already awake so she thought we ought to be as well. She summoned Mom first and I pretended to be asleep hoping she would leave me be. She played off her urgency as love and tried to curl in next to me under the covers but I wasn't falling for it. I rejected her false love and then she went over and whipped open the blackout curtains, blinding the room with sunlight. We rallied for ihop, throwing on our duds and grabbing our bags. We would come back after to brush our teeth and check out of the hotel. We drove just a little ways to the ihop where they again bestowed upon us a thirty minute wait. Mom could not believe it and out loud said to Ellen and the hostess, "Well we'll go somewhere else. I don't want to wait!"

This is not the Nancy I know so I was equal parts amused and horrified. Ellen seemed only horrified and quickly applied her fast planning skills to her phone and she found us another breakfast place around the corner. While we drove, Mom carried on about how many people are around, and "what's with this waiting, and how do people live like this?" Mom was hangry. I wondered if living with impatient Dad was finally rubbing off on her. We got to the new breakfast spot and Mom settled down as soon as they put some coffee in front of her. 

We wound up loving our breakfast spot so much that we dilly-dallied and enjoyed ourselves. Ellen did not leave room for "enjoyment" in our agenda so we were officially running behind. In an effort to make up time, Ellen plowed through our next steps. We came back to the hotel to use the bathroom, brush our teeth, pack up, and check out. Mom took the bathroom first. She wasn't in there three minutes when Ellen said, "You know, I'll just use the lobby bathroom and meet y'all at the car." She grabbed her bag and off she went. 

Just ten minutes later, Mom and I came down to the lobby and walked to the front desk. "We're checking out of room 330," Mom said. 

"Oh, someone has already checked y'all out." We looked through the glass doors and saw Ellen in the parking lot. The trunk to the car was open and she leaned against the bumper wearing sunglasses like an impatient chauffeur. I tossed my bag into the back. Ellen grabbed Mom's, tossed it in and then brought down the heavy trunk door right down onto Mom's head. Mom's knees buckled and she let out little yelp. Ellen felt awful. She and I both held onto little curled up Mom as she held onto her head and said nothing. I waited for blood. Ellen apologized profusely. I wondered if Mom had a concussion. The very corner of that metal door had come down onto the top of Mom's head. Being a gracious person, she tried to assure Ellen that she was ok but when Ellen went around to get into the driver seat Mom shot me daggers with her eyes. "She's in such a crappin' hurry."

We arrived at ikea at 9:05. The line wrapped around the building. 

"I told you! I told you we should have been here earlier!" Ellen shouted. Based on previous reactions to waiting in line, I assumed we would bag the whole thing and drive home. But without frustration or discussion, Mom and Ellen hopped right out of the car and got in line. Now I was the angry one. I'm not standing in a parking lot for two hours for this. I don't even need anything from ikea. We wound up only having to wait about 10 minutes so I was instantly chastized for the one and only time on this trip that I wasn't patient and delightful. 

We made it through the whole ikea store in about two hours. This was Ellen's first ikea experience so she hadn't known what to expect. She and Mom found lots of good things for Ellen's new place and Mom splurged and bought four bathmats. That's big for her. I bristled at the crowded mobs of people in there while my mustache bristled against my cotton mask. I fingered my eyebrows as I walked the aisles, selecting small kitchenware pieces that I could't wait to try out.

We were back on the road and heading home by lunch time. Ellen drove home "became Mom drives too slow!" We plowed along at record time. This time Mom napped while Ellen and I mused in that opposite way we do. Mom got dropped off first. We unloaded her goods and said goodbye and then Ellen drove me to my house. Ellen helped me carry my ikea bags to the door and Brett came to say hello. We chit-chatted and I put things away, and then hasty Ellen sped off towards her house with my suitcase still the trunk.

I had to walk over and pick up the next day. 

If she wan't in such a crappin' hurry all the time...

HonBons: And Other Insightful Indulgences

So here's how it all went down. Dad had a meeting in Lynchburg on March 1st. He told Lollie and Papa Don that he and Mom would be coming up and can we visit? It probably didn't go quite like that because they would never invite themselves over but the HonUnion folks know what we're really saying when we say were coming to town. Mama Lollie said she'd see about Will and Katie's schedule and Mama Union checked with Brett and I and in the end we all arrived in Goode on Friday, Feb 27th.

Mom and Dad got there first, somewhere around 6:00pm. Unbeknownst to us, Don and Laurie were scrambling around completing not-so-minor house repairs just moments before they arrived. Brett and I were just getting to the treacherous part of our drive. It was dark and rainy with a bit of fog and we snaked a hilly trail with our knuckles white and our fannies clenched. We reckoned it would be a pretty drive in the daylight but locals rip-roared around curves, blinding us with their headlights and creating a fearful silence in our car. I knew it must have been scary for Brett to admit minor discomfort. Earlier in our drive, Brett barreled across train tracks in front of an oncoming train and later we were hit by vinyl siding that blew off of a house that had been sawed in half and put on a big rig. It was flying down the highway with all of its furniture wiggling around inside. The house was open on one side, like a dollhouse. You could see chairs and tables, blankets, there were even pictures hanging on the wall. Stuff was blowing out and all around and a big sheet of vinyl tumbled along, arching high in the air, and chopping across the top of our car. I've never been more relived to end a drive. 

We arrived at 7:30. Doc tried to scare us with protective barking but when I said his name his little nub tail wiggled with vigor. Inside, Laurie had already set out a dessert display. The house was cozy and warm, filled with heaters and a toasty fire. It felt good to be home. I hugged my happy Hons and we immediately sat down for a meal. Dad had made and brought along a big lasagna for supper and Don asked if this counted as Meals on Wheels. After supper we threw our plates in the trashcan and scurried off to the living room to toast our buns by the fire and tell stow-ries. I had been very excited for Brett to come to Goode. He's never visited this slice of heaven before and I told him about the view and the land and the general serene goodness that envelopes you as soon as you arrive. He looked out the big kitchen window at true darkness. "Great view," he said.

Will, Katie, Evan, and pup Wando, got in late. Maybe 11? I'm not sure. I just remember that Mom and Dad stayed up long enough to say hello and then they nearly ran to go to bed. Evan was both bigger and smaller than I expected. She's a whole little person now. There's no real baby left in her. As soon as they arrived Evan let out a big celebratory poop. Will and Katie seemed shocked as well as impressed. They cleaned her up but her warm welcome lingered. "We may have to burn those pants," Katie suggested. 

We all snuggled into our chairs to chat, except Laurie. She wandered off to put Evan to bed and she never came back. Don sat with us until I offended his literary and linguistic preferences. We kids stayed up until 2:30 or so, getting caught up on life. We finally called it a night and Brett fell asleep as soon as he laid down. I laid awake giggling about a comment Don made about catch-and-release trees. 

Brett wooed Doc, the Hon's least cuddly pup.

Now, as usual, I didn't take many pictures. These people distract you with in-depth conversations and you don't even remember that you own a phone with a camera. For that reason, I only have the pictures Laurie took. When I get back from these sorts of things, I wish I had taken a picture of the view and at least one with everyone in it, you know, as proof. But I won't think of that until I get home. 

Saturday, February 28

I woke up to two scary African masks and the sound of Laurie's meat thermometer. Someone in the house was snoring and Brett made Evan cry when he went to the bathroom. Everyone but Will woke up at a normal time and we all had breakfast casserole and cinnamon rolls. This is when I really got to meet Evan. I felt nervous that she wouldn't like me. It would break my heart. Olivia is indifferent to me, you know. I couldn't take it if Evan was too. Turns out Evan bashfully enjoys those who attempt to play with her. In the end she was indifferent to me but she was much less rude about it than Olivia is. I also think she could tell that I was scared of her. On this morning, I helped Evan climb into her Cocaine Corral and then helped her back out again. Later we sat on the rowing machine together where she very much enjoyed me saying "Pull! Pull!" She would look at me and smile, and I felt like a hero.

Here I am trying to come off as cool and disinterested. Don't I look apathetic? 

This day was spent in our usual, scenery-rotating fashion. Sit and chat here. Sit and chat there. The "old folks" played a round of Shanghai while the "young folks" went on a walkabout. Brett wanted the tour of the land. We bundled up and took a walk. Brett got to meet Peanut and Rio, and Will blew our minds with well-trained Wando. That dog just does what you tell him to. No questions asked. But don't worry, he's still quirky and dog-like. Brett and I couldn't get over it. Evan is an industrious self-entertainer and just enjoys the ride, occupying herself with what she sees and hears. 

I spent the afternoon harassing Will and Katie with question about being parents. I don't know many people my age with children, and none of them are people with points of view I'm particularly interested in. (Is there a nicer way to say that?) I tend to lean towards the more unpopular viewpoint in the "parenting" arena and most people think I'm just a jerk. And while I would never insult anybody by suggesting that they are like me, Will and Katie have the ability to step into your shoes and try to look at things through your sole. 
And if they can't do that, I at least know I'll get honest answers. So I stole away their weekend free time and worked to prepare them for Evan's next phase of life where she just has a bunch of rapid-fire questions for them to answer. 

In the evening, Brett and I wandered back down to the barn in an attempt to identify a walnut tree. We took Wando and Gus with us and Brett tried out all the words and commands he'd heard Will use on Wando earlier. It was like test driving a luxury vehicle. 
"How did Will get Wando's attention?" Brett asked as Wando took interest in the woods. 
"I think he said, 'Woo Woo!' or something like that," I replied.
"Woo Woo!" Brett shouted. Wando looked up at us and then went back to sniffing.
"Try 'Hoo hoo'."
"I don't think it was hoo hoo."
"Wa wa?" We narrowed it down to "Ho-ho" or "Woah-woah" but either way Wando humored us and came back, probably because he was embarrassed for us. My favorite bit during our Walnut Walk was visiting with Peanut, the big red horse. I clicked my teeth and he sauntered right over to me like I knew what I was doing and we were old pals. I played it off like I had expertise with horses and farms so that Brett would think I was cool. I pat Peanut's round jaw and then let him smell my hands. He's a thoughtful horse, I'll tell ya. My hands were freezing so I held one in front of each of his giant nostrils and he warmed up my fingers with a big horsey exhale. To thank him I made him a grass bundle from the good stuff on the other side of his fence. Brett and I loved hearing him crunch through it. We gave him a few more grass bundles. 

We got back to the house just in time for supper. Laurie had gotten up at 4am to put a brisket in the smoker and she tended to it all day. Will, Katie, and Laurie squabbled over sides and we wound up having five of them. It was all D-licious. Laid-back Evan quietly sat at the table with us, turning her curiosity towards Papa Chris.

After a bit more storytelling, the Shanghai competition began. Mom, Dad, Laurie and Don played at the card table in the living room while Katie, Will, Brett, and I played at the kitchen table. Though I hated to miss out on the parental musings, it made for a humorous scene. We kids played our Shanghai rounds slowly, somewhat halfheartedly, as we were invested in deep conversation. While we discussed philosophies of existence, marital values, and the ethics of reproduction, our parents sat in the next room screaming with laughter about bathroom jokes. 

They finished their match and giggled their way into the kitchen for snacks. We were only halfway through our game. The folks drifted to bed one by one while we continued highlighting the absurd, fun parts of being married, and delving the foolish depths of my psyche. We eventually finished our round of Shanghai and our conversation turned delirious but committed still. Sometime around midnight Laurie showed up threatening to make another breakfast casserole but Katie diverted her. We all made it to bed by 2:30.

Gus hopes for Brett's cinnamon roll.

Sunday, February 29

Everyone but Brett woke up at a normal time and we had breakfast casserole and cinnamon roles. And yogurt. And granola. And fruit. It was leaving day. I hate those. Brett and I had to leave to get him home in time for work on Monday. Pesky jobs getting in the way of livin'. Brett and I packed up our crap and Laurie fixed of bags of snacks for the road. We hugged a train of Hons right out the front door. 

Don mops the floor with Evan.

It was grey and blustery outside, and the scene perfectly minced my feelings towards leaving. Admittedly I missed out on my Don and Lollie time. In a group of nine, the rotation of people and conversation doesn't leave you with enough time with any one person. Someone was always wrangling Evan, preparing for our next meal, toweling off dogs, or warming up by the fire. 

Oh a busy house full of your favorite people. It's all I really want in life.