Friday, November 28, 2014

A "Jenkins" Thanksgiving

A Northern Thanksgiving Menu
 (made from bread cubes)
Green Beans
Sweet Potatoes
Mashed Potatoes
Cranberry Sauce
Cranberry Jelly
Pumpkin Pie
Apple Pie
A Southern Thanksgiving Menu
Ham (served cold)
(Made from cornbread)
Corn Casserole
Green Bean Casserole
 Sweet Potato Casserole
Cranberry Jelly
Deviled Eggs
7-layer Salad
Pumpkin Pie
Pecan Pie
As you can see, there are only 5 items that are the same between a Northern and Southern Thanksgiving menu.  The vegetables may all be similar, but the South likes to casserole everything.  Granted, the menu can change from family to family, but this is my family's menus- the north vs. the south.
I am not a huge fan of "southern" thanksgiving.  Casseroles just aren't really my thing.   My Mr. enjoyed our "northern" thanksgiving, but he prefers Has Casseroles.  The only reason we will be having Mashed Potatoes at our "southern" thanksgiving is because I am bringing them.  Thanksgiving isn't Thanksgiving to me with our some light & fluffy Mashed potatoes.  
I had never had Pecan Pie (pronounced Pa-con if you are a southerner, and PEE-CAN if you are a northerner) until I had moved down here.  Now this is ONE thing that the South does right on Thanksgiving. 
This Thanksgiving my WHOLE immediate family was together for the first time since 2003 (the best I can figure).  One of my sisters moved to Florida in 2004, so I figure that last thanksgiving we had all together was in 2003.  Now, 3 weddings and 2 little ones later, we grew from a family of 5 to a family of 10.  
It was Sawyer's first Thanksgiving, and He really enjoyed the little bits of food that we was given!  I am pretty sure that his favorite was the Homemade Candy Cane Ice cream that my Dad gave him! 
My "Norton" side is waiting until Saturday for their Thanksgiving.  My in-laws were gracious enough to hold off on Thanksgiving dinner so that I could spend as much time with my family as possible. 
The biggest feat for my family is yet to come later this afternoon.  Family pictures!  Before this year my family was spread across 3 different states.  My Parents were up in NY, me and my eldest sister were here in MS, and my middle sister is in Florida.  Needless to say, it has been difficult to get us all together in the SAME place long enough to get a family picture done.  That last picture we had done was at my wedding, which doesn't really count since I was the only one in a fluffy white dress.  In fact, I think the only family pictures that we have gotten over the past 10 years is at each wedding! 

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

A little less wisdom...

So tomorrow I'm having my first "surgery". 

My Dentist has decided that I have a little too much wisdom and that my wisdom teeth have got to go.  (ok--that was corn straight off the ear, deal with it.)  So tomorrow, I go under the knife.  Only one of my wisdom teeth has come through, and I've been having a lot of jaw pain on that side.  I guess another one of them has turned itself around backwards.  Fun times.

I've begun to freak myself out with the anesthesia.  I'm super sensitive to any kind of drug to begin with.  The thought of them putting a drug in my arm that will knock me out in 5-10 seconds flat REALLY just unnerves me.  

I was joking with my MR that I plan on keeping myself drugged up so that I just sleep through all the pain.  He didn't think it was very funny.  In fact, He told me that he was going to be in control of the pain meds.  Such a spoil sport!  

Tonight I'm going to start prepping my food so that my MR doesn't have a lot of work to do tomorrow.  Friday & Saturday I'll be fending for myself.  I'm going to boil some chicken for chicken soup, make some Jello, find some somewhat healthy popsicles, and juice some fruits and veggies!  I might even be a little naughty and make some vanilla custard.  I've decided I'm going to attempt to make it with almond milk, so it will be gluten and dairy free...just not sugar free!  We'll see how it turns out.

So until next time, I'll hopefully be sleeping, and getting my fix of Jello.


Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Half of a Half Century

A.K.A. a quarter Century

My Mr turns the big...



I'm pretty sure that 25 needs to be one of those "milestone" birthdays...I mean, half of a half century of life is pretty huge, don't ya think?

I mean, really.  It's just this ONE DAY that you are a quarter century!  The day after your birthday you are a quarter century PLUS 1 day, and so on and so forth!

So My Love, on your birthday today, I wish you an Old Irish Blessing

May there always be work for your hands to do. May your purse always hold a coin or two. May the sun always shine on your windowpane. May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain. May the hand of a friend always be near you.
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

You are seriously my favorite person ever, and I can't wait to spend the next half century +++ With you!

I love you babe, A Whole Awful Lot!

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

It's been a while ...

It's been a while my lovelies!  My girlfriend is starting a blog, and she inspired me to get my butt in gear and actually post something....

Life Lately,

I've settled in to my banking life again.  Most days I love it.  Other days I miss the freedom I had working for myself.  I feel like I have LESS free time than I did when I was running the scrap yard! I'm having a hard time not only finding the TIME to blog, but of having the desire to.  I just don't feel like I have much to say lately. 

The MR. is turning 25 next tuesday.  We are having a cookout for him with friend this Saturday, and then a family dinner on his actually birthday.  His birthday is always SUPER special to me, because it's the reason that we met!  I'm pretty sure I'm the best birthday present He has ever gotten!  And I'm the gift that keep on giving, right? 

I'm getting my wisdom teeth out on the 10th of July.  I am NOT excited about that.  I'm a baby when it comes to pain.  So I have a feeling I'll stay pretty doped up on some Pain Pills to get me through!

The MR & I have discovered a new hobby that we BOTH love .... CAMPING!  We've been twice now!  The first time we went to a state park in Tennessee, and the 2nd time we went to Spring River in Arkansaw and spent the afternoon floating down the river with a group of friends.  We will be going back to spring river (just the two of us) over the holiday weekend coming up!  Our schedules don't really allow us to go on whole week vacations, so we just take little weekend vacations to get a break from life.  Plus, camping is fairly cheap!

I've decided to start hopping over to starbucks on my lunch break to make use of their Wi-Fi so that I can start blogging again, because let's just get real hear for a moment.  I leave work at 7:15, and get home around 5:15-5:30, ain't nobody got time for blogging after working all day, coming home and doing housework.  Well, atleast this girl doesn't!

Anyhow--that's life lately for me?  How about you?


Thursday, April 10, 2014

He walked with God...

One of my favorite hymns:
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
In a few days our family is going to come together and celebrate a man who lived His life walking with God. 
It is so easy to just mourn our loss – and the loss is great – but we MUST remember to celebrate his Life, and his life was a life worth celebrating.
I didn’t know him very long.  In fact, the first time I met him was just a few months before the Mr. and I got married, and it was less than 6 months from when we started dating.  But He loved and accepted me from before we had ever met.
I know that My Mr. is going to miss him dearly.  At first the loss seems so great and so overwhelming, but soon the pain of our loss will diminish.  But on life’s more momentous moments, especially when we have our first baby, that tender ache will reappear. 
For the last few months of his life, Papaw stayed with my in-laws.  My Mother-in-law took care of him, and in the last few weeks very rarely left his side.  I know that it was hard for her, and I know that it exhausted her – more mentally & emotionally than physically – but she never once wavered.  It was SUCH a testimony to both My Mr. and I of how we are suppose to take care of our parents in their final days.  (This is not to say that elderly care facilities do not have their place, because they do!) 
Papaw lived a full life, just shy of 89 years.  He worked hard, raised 2 wonderful daughters, was faithful and took care of His wife through her dying days, but most importantly He walked with Jesus. 
We can rest in the promise the Papaw is in a better place, that he is worshiping at the feet of his Savior, that he is reunited with his Bride, and that he is no longer in pain.
When the generations above us start to pass, we do mourn our loss, but we also know that they lived a full life.  But death, of any kind, always reminds me that this life is fleeting and our days are finite.  It always makes me think about how I can live my life to the fullest, and I always come back to Loving God more than everything, and choosing Jesus before everything else.  When you do that, everything else just falls into place. No one has ever said “Man, I really regret choosing Jesus”.
My Mr’s Papaw lived a full life walking with Jesus.  I challenge myself to do the same.     

Monday, March 31, 2014

I choose him.

Two Years ago today I woke up on a very, very small Twin bed.  My Cousin may or may not have been snoring over in the corner.  My 4 year old cousin may or may not have woken up in the middle of the night screaming, and I may or may not have only gotten 2 or 3 hours of sleep that night, and if you know me at all, I NEED 8-10 hours.

And somehow, none of that mattered.
It was 4 am.  I tossed and turned for a little while trying to get in a few more minutes of sleep, but it just wasn’t going to happen.
I gave up my pursuit of sleep, stumbled down the stairs and quietly made myself a cup of coffee.  Two of my other cousins were asleep on the couch in the living room.  Even if I couldn’t sleep, they sure needed to. 
I drank about 2 cups of coffee, (even though coffee was the last thing I needed at the moment) wrote a few letters, played on my phone, turned on the oven to start breakfast and once6:30 hit, I just couldn’t take it anymore.
I tiptoed through the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, and went to tap on my Mom’s door.
It took her a minute, but I finally heard some rustling around.
“Mom, it’s time to get up!  It’s time to start my hair!”
After a little while she finally came out of her room.  The Curling Iron was on, the arsenal of hair products was ready, and I had about 50 bobby pins ready for action.
In no time at all, she had my hair curled and pinned up with some fresh flowers woven in between the curls.
Pulled on my cowgirl boots,
Slid my pretty new dress over my head,
I had forgotten my eye liner, so I borrowed some from my grandmother. 
I had painted my toes blue the night before,
And I slid the 1986 penny into the bottom of my boot.
My Uncle started up his Expedition, and my mom helped me get loaded up.
It was time.
We drove the 10 minute trek to the rose garden, and there He was.
He was standing there.
Waiting for me.
Up until this point there hadn’t been a moment of anxiety, not a moment’s worth of doubt.
And there He was.
My stomach began to flutter, and anticipation began to grow.  It was not nervousness or anxiety that filled me, it was the realization that this Man had been chosen for me before I was ever born.
I was His Bride.
He had been made specifically for me.
We had a few precious moments together before the chaos began.
He told me that I was more beautiful that day than any other, and that He loved me, and I’m sure a whole lot of sweet words that are all a blur.
 We slid out wedding bands on our fingers so that we could take our wedding photos before the ceremony.
A few short hours later, I was standing behind the closed doors of the church, waiting on that moment when the ushers would swing the doors open and I would walk down the aisle radiating with the Love of my groom.
My Dad told me that it wasn’t too late; there were plenty of cars outside that we could get away in.
We laughed about it, He had told my older two sisters the same thing on their wedding day.  I stood there waiting, anxiously, doing the tee-tee dance, because that’s what happens when you are nervous and drank as much coffee as I did that morning.
And then, the doors opened.
And there He was again.
Waiting for me.
Choosing me.
Loving me.
We promised ourselves to each other forever,
We promised to choose each other daily.
We Poured some sand,
Shared our first married kiss,
And He gave me His Name.
The first year of marriage flew by,
And we thought,
“Oh, we’ve got this!”
Then the 2nd year of marriage came around and we began to realize that marriage takes work. 
Love takes work. After all, you will never drift together.
The 2nd year we learned what it was to CHOOSE to love daily.
There were definitely the days when I didn’t choose to love, when I chose my own selfishness instead and I could only blame myself for the chasm that was created.
He showed me grace every time, and He loved me in spite of my selfishness.
There were definitely more high points than there were low points, but there was lots of grace and lots of forgiveness as well.
And at the end of those two years of wedding bliss, as we steadily continue on into your third year, I stand in awe at how far we have come, and I am so excited to continue on and see what this year has in store for us.
Two years ago today, I chose to become one with my best friend.
Today, I choose Him all over again. 
Today, I choose to choose him every day until the last breath that I breathe. 

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Crusty underpants

I am not a person that you would consider a bully. 
In fact, I’m the person that usually stands up for the underdog.
Probably because I was a person that tended to get picked on in school.
But there was this one time….
I was pretty young, maybe seven or eight.  There was this girl at church that my group of friends didn’t really care for, and so they decided to start calling her “crusty underwear”, and I of course followed along.
True story.  It happened. I’m not proud.
I don’t know how or WHY we came up with this name for her, but it stuck.
One Sunday night after the service we were playing freeze tag while waiting for our parents to finish talking, and just kept on picking on her, and chasing her around calling her crusty underwear.
Well, she went and told her parents, who went and told MY parents, who made me apologize (even though I’m pretty sure they got a good chuckle out of it).
The irony of this situation is that we ended up becoming BFF’s when we got into High School. 
We’ve ended up on different ends of the country, and don’t really stay in contact much anymore, and even though I realize NOW that it’s not nice to call people names, I still crack up laughing every time I think about it.
The Moral of the story? 
It should be that if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.  Or don’t follow the crowd make your own decisions.  Ya know, something along those lines.  But if I still think it’s funny, was I ever really sorry to begin with? 
HB(N)—If you’re reading this—This is kind of those “sorry” but “not sorry” kind of moments, because I’m pretty sure that at the time, I was MORE sorry that I got caught because tattled on me that I was that we were calling you crusty underwear.  But, I am glad that we were friends throughout High school!  XOXO!