To say postings as of late have been sparse, is well... the truth. I keep thinking about the little blog. About everything it's missing. How lonely it's been all summer. And although I wish it were chalk-full of happenings from the past few months (so I can remember when I'm ninety what I did when I was twenty-seven) for once I'm okay with the lack of posts. All it means is this summer has been full. And truly spendid.
Summertime makes me feel alive and happy. A few highlights, so I really do remember something when I'm ninety...
Dodgeball celebration t-shirt party. Six months after winning the championship. Ziggy's wedding. My car pool ride to Wichita. Me in charge of navigation and forgetting multiple addresses and the map. Marc not knowing White Stripes Seven Nation Army lyrics actually saying I'm goin' to Wichita. Me playing Angry Birds on Marc's iPhone instead watching the GPS. Us going 30 minutes the wrong direction instead. Moving across the street with the best moving party a girl could ask for. Me driving a U-Haul and almost clipping a median sign. My brother, Amber, and Mom saving my life and getting the house in order before a suffered a panic attack. Mom painting a brand new office space for SugarSnaps Photography. Having a real deal office! Joining a new frisbee league. Being challenged. Sprinting and cutting in 99 degree heat and humidity. Not puking. Seriously, not puking. Accomplishment. Schechtman visiting from Denver. Hosting a bbq so she can meet my friends right after the move... without a grill, stove, or oven. Schechtman having to run to the grocery store because I had no salt for the Tres de Julio party. Mexican food needs salt! Royals game with the Brown's. Me choosing the wrong way home through miles and miles of road construction. Piper pulling the covers under her chin once she got to my place and making her dad sleep on the air mattress. Jana's wedding. We goin' to Wichita again. Finding a boat driver. Taking wedding photos of so many happy brides and handsome grooms. Partied with the wedding parties. Had a complete blast. Thank God for his blessings. And for balance. And joy in one's work.
July lake trip. Sleeping eleven people in a two-bedroom cabin. Playing on the water all day. Life jacket diapers, Kenny Chesney, and Miller Lite. The bench. Skiing the next morning too. Blind date gone wrong. A chicken sandwich never tasted so dry. Trips to the farmer's market. Fresh peaches. The Brown's visiting again. Extra lucky me! Pigging out at Village Inn the morning after. 70's just like Mom & Dad used to do. Annie moving in. Another red-headed roommate. Always a good sign. Happy hour celebrating one-year at the dental office. Giggling like teenage girls. Drinking our dessert. Good JuJu. The drive-in. Cowboys & Aliens. Jen and Renee rescuing me from photography wardrobe malfunction. Tequila. Eating a PB&J on the way to D&D. Then dancing out socks off. Schlitterbahn. Lazy river wave pool. Screaming like a pansy on the coaster drop. Frisbee tournament. Playing non-stop for 5.5 hours. Losing big-time each game until the second half of the second half. Winning first and second rounds by one point. Making it to finals. Behind very badly in finals. 6-11, going to 15. So hot. So tired. So can't breathe. Teammates cramping mid-field. I'm cramping. Players falling over on grass. So nasty hot. Somehow tying it up at 14-14. Losing off the pull. An elusive frisbee championship, yet again. Suffer affects of heat exhaustion for three days. Arrive at Milford just before dark. No boats on the water. Skiing across the middle of the lake. Smooth as glass. Right into the sunset. Most incredible feeling. Perhaps an itty-bitty taste of heaven. Sans the algae outbreak. Seriously incredible. Little baby's Baby Shower. Because I'm going to be an aunt soon! Which is just out of this world. Absolutely a miracle to witness this process little momma is going through. Garage sales. And painting everything. Making a home feel like home. Friends visiting. Meals shared. Margaritas and W^5. Belly laughs.
There is still wonderfulness yet to come. A couple more mini-trips, Lake of the Ozarks, Colorado, and a camping weekend...
God is so good. I feel incredibly blessed. And I'm not ready to say so long sweet summer. Not quite yet...
on the range...
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We finished Day 2 in Tulsa at my cousin's house. They had recently moved from Omaha and their home and neighborhood was really pretty. It was nice being on a quiet street. We could walk in the middle of the road and not worry about cars and traffic. Plus, their kids are so darn cute. It was definitely nice catching up!
Midway through Day 3 we stopped by another cousin's house, possibly in Broken Arrow. I could have stayed there all week. A lake, paddleboat, screened in porch, huge patio, and an open arm welcome. I told them I'm coming back after the pool is built. And staying for a week.
Midway through Day 3 we stopped by another cousin's house, possibly in Broken Arrow. I could have stayed there all week. A lake, paddleboat, screened in porch, huge patio, and an open arm welcome. I told them I'm coming back after the pool is built. And staying for a week.
are far behind me...
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Day 2 vaca recap and I already almost forgot. So it will be brief. Soon after we visited small-town Kansas, we headed south to Tulsa. As I recall, the drive was uneventful... except when my brother faked losing his wallet 30mins back where we filled with gas and I (along with his pregnant wife) were quite hungry.
Oh how he still enjoys teasing me...
Some crazy clouds rolled through the Tulsa skies the second day of our visit. These were extra poofy.
Oh how he still enjoys teasing me...
Some crazy clouds rolled through the Tulsa skies the second day of our visit. These were extra poofy.
amarillo by morning...
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Last night marked the end of a ten-day road trip with the fam. There are stories and photos to share. We covered some ground and were able to spend a lot of time with family and friends. A different twist on our usual, and I'm thankful for it. My (lofty) intention is to post a photo a day from the trip...
Day One: Met with friends in KC. Carpooled to Wichita (thank goodness they gave me a lift). Laughed a lot. Met up with bro & sis-in-law. Rode to Dexter, KS. Visited small candy factory, supposedly home of the first Baby Ruth bar. Parents joined us. All met up with cousins for a tour of their town. From their front yard they could see Mr. Cow, pictured below. Looks like a good life to me.
The town was small, but the community very much alive and active. My second cousin was growing fruit from a pot on the window sill. So stinking cute.
Day One: Met with friends in KC. Carpooled to Wichita (thank goodness they gave me a lift). Laughed a lot. Met up with bro & sis-in-law. Rode to Dexter, KS. Visited small candy factory, supposedly home of the first Baby Ruth bar. Parents joined us. All met up with cousins for a tour of their town. From their front yard they could see Mr. Cow, pictured below. Looks like a good life to me.
The town was small, but the community very much alive and active. My second cousin was growing fruit from a pot on the window sill. So stinking cute.
one for the money...
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Four-ish reasons my week is off to a good start:
1) my inbox is down to three emails (3!)
2) was pulled over yesterday and given a warning (thank you!)
3) made an album for a senior for his graduation - it was a labor of love, and I was crazy nervous about the final product... because I get crazy nervous about these things. Thankfully it's beautiful... the printing company is incredible... now I want to make more
4) this weather makes me sing for joy, frolic on the sidewalks, and smile permanently - this would be my everyday kind of weather paradise
5) although not this week, the beautiful chaos pictured below was happening on our driveway not long ago; all the different activities taking place on the street cracks me up - Happy Birthday (month) Renee!
1) my inbox is down to three emails (3!)
2) was pulled over yesterday and given a warning (thank you!)
3) made an album for a senior for his graduation - it was a labor of love, and I was crazy nervous about the final product... because I get crazy nervous about these things. Thankfully it's beautiful... the printing company is incredible... now I want to make more
4) this weather makes me sing for joy, frolic on the sidewalks, and smile permanently - this would be my everyday kind of weather paradise
5) although not this week, the beautiful chaos pictured below was happening on our driveway not long ago; all the different activities taking place on the street cracks me up - Happy Birthday (month) Renee!
under my umbrella...
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Happy reminder... April showers bring May flowers. And fresh basil.
And I had nothing to do with growing either of these things.
But I get to enjoy them anyway.
Perhaps I have a slight annoyance with all the complaints about rain, like all the rainfall we experienced last week. Sure, I'd like to see the sun each day. And I like it to be warm. But I also know all that rain is what makes everything so green around here. Trust me. The open plains taught me a few things in my first 18 years: Western Kansas = brown + dry + dry, dry dry. Eastern Kansas = green + rainy. Not a coincidence.
Fresh basil!
And I had nothing to do with growing either of these things.
But I get to enjoy them anyway.
Perhaps I have a slight annoyance with all the complaints about rain, like all the rainfall we experienced last week. Sure, I'd like to see the sun each day. And I like it to be warm. But I also know all that rain is what makes everything so green around here. Trust me. The open plains taught me a few things in my first 18 years: Western Kansas = brown + dry + dry, dry dry. Eastern Kansas = green + rainy. Not a coincidence.
Fresh basil!
wiser...
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This weekend brought me to Manhattan to celebrate a family friend's wedding. A part of me enjoys going back so much... I smile at all the places we frequented and the hilarious memories that took place those four years. And a part of me doesn't enjoy it so much. Not all memories are as fun to remember.
Visiting this time reminded me of other things. Like the fact I'm getting old(er). I know this for certain, for a few reasons:
5) I couldn't remember my way around campus when attempting to show Mom the new Leadership Studies Hall. I ended up directing Dad around a dead-end cul-de-sac in the back alleyways. My bad.
4) We after-partied in Aggieville at Kite's. I kept looking for familiar faces like the old days. There were none. And what exactly were those girls wearing?
3) Hmmm... the music must not have been as loud when I was in college. I mean, Dad and I couldn't even hold a conversation over the yelling, shrieking mania.
2) I drank a BudLight. And I will if I have to. But, uh, I prefer to never have to.
1) My brother was first in the door. He got carded. I reached for my wallet, joked with the bouncer that I was old, he looked at me and agreed, and waved me through. Fail. Fail. And fail.
Waking up this morning humbled and without a pounding headache, twisted ankle, or nausea, I remembered it's okay to grow up. And have real conversations on the weekends. And drink a stout from a bottle.
Although next time I'll have my ID ready, so Mr. Bouncer has no choice but to check my date of birth.
Visiting this time reminded me of other things. Like the fact I'm getting old(er). I know this for certain, for a few reasons:
5) I couldn't remember my way around campus when attempting to show Mom the new Leadership Studies Hall. I ended up directing Dad around a dead-end cul-de-sac in the back alleyways. My bad.
4) We after-partied in Aggieville at Kite's. I kept looking for familiar faces like the old days. There were none. And what exactly were those girls wearing?
3) Hmmm... the music must not have been as loud when I was in college. I mean, Dad and I couldn't even hold a conversation over the yelling, shrieking mania.
2) I drank a BudLight. And I will if I have to. But, uh, I prefer to never have to.
1) My brother was first in the door. He got carded. I reached for my wallet, joked with the bouncer that I was old, he looked at me and agreed, and waved me through. Fail. Fail. And fail.
Waking up this morning humbled and without a pounding headache, twisted ankle, or nausea, I remembered it's okay to grow up. And have real conversations on the weekends. And drink a stout from a bottle.
Although next time I'll have my ID ready, so Mr. Bouncer has no choice but to check my date of birth.
yellow+blue...
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Happy St. Patrick's Day... girlie style. Bring something green. Wear something green. And be merry.
i feel charming...
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If you haven't stepped outside lately, or rolled down your car windows, or taken a look at all the happy faces meandering around this town... spring is here. It's here! I'm no longer captive to bulky boots or layers of clothing or an ice scraper in hand each morning. My camera is so happy and sappy and bright. I can hardly stand it.
love is like whoa...
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This February was host to one of my favorite Valentine's celebration (at least that I remember, sorry Mom)... heart-shaped pizza from PapaJohn's, hand-dipped strawberries by the lovely Pam O., and salad with homemade dressing. Okay, it wasn't the food that made it great. It wasn't that at all. It was the hilarious stories about Quinceanearas and a hot Latino man of the 90's that made it more entertaining than I remember any other Valentine's Day. Maybe I have a weak memory of Valentine's Day pasts (okay, except the time in college I made penne vodka sauce with Viaka - bad idea - and my roommates were the servers... I'm a weirdo). Either way, it was a really good night.
king cake...
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Fat Tuesday. Sounds like such a jolly time. And the roommates and I made sure it was. Never mind the beads, we went straight for the beef and checked out a new restaurant that had opened recently near us - the Snak Shack, formerly known as the Shake Shack (until it's name was copyrighted by someone else), formerly known as Wheat State Pizza (until this location went out of business).
It's a quirky little place. Sporadic decor posted on the walls and random items in the dining area (note Renee's knight helmet) had me a little confused between hole in the wall every band poster ever made plastered floor to ceiling and quaint, personality-filled spot to grab a bite. I'd possibly like to say it gave the effect of trying too hard to be cool, without looking like trying hard, but really, the decor matters much less than the food. So forget the walls.
The burgers were fabulous. Lean beef, yummy romaine, and a thick bun that didn't get loaded with grease. And the onion rings were phenomenal. I'm a bit of an onion ring snob, and these were the best I've had. That I remember. Really, really good. You must try them. And, even better, the restaurant sources locally raised and organic ingredients. Makes me happy.
I brought along the camera because the poor thing has been up in the closet for way too long this winter. It needed some action. Something colorful and warm and bright. I think we all found a little bit this rainy, Mardi Gras of a night.
perfect...
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Not much can beat the sensation of flying down a snowy mountain, swooshing left then carving right, pole plant, pole plant, carve. No sound except the rush of wind past your ears and snow under your feet. Teetering just on the edge of in control.
Oops, did I say 'teetering on the edge of in control'? Sometimes the flying part can get a little dicey - a mistake would make for a messy, yard sale of a crash. And some sort of knee injury for sure. But we do it anyway. As fast as you can go, as hard as you can push, down to the bottom. I like skiing. Wish I could make it happen more often. For now I settle for two trips a year. Once with the fam, and once with friends. This weekend Sara and I hit up Beaver Creek for some fabulous scenery and wide open runs. We weren't disappointed. It's so beautiful there with all the Aspen trees and empty lift lines. We skied our hearts out. My quads have been reminding me all day.
To top it off the day before was spent with the newest baby in my life - little Kolbe (whose photos will be posted on the photo blog soon). Time went too fast with him and his momma. What a precious little boy! I mean, I know we say that about all babies, but he absolutely is.
Below is a view from our patio window. The winter scene is so barren, it almost looks like the photo is black and white. Can we get some springtime up in here - I need color in my life! And below that are our winter pride and joys. Some day my skis will grow up and be big skis like Sara's. And the next is the aftermath of a day of skiing. Boots and gloves drying by the fireplace always make me smile. It's evidence of a good day's work.
Also, just a note - I wear a helmet when skiing. Just in case the teetering turns into tottering. Also helps when going through tree trails. Branches tend to be attracted to my head.
Oops, did I say 'teetering on the edge of in control'? Sometimes the flying part can get a little dicey - a mistake would make for a messy, yard sale of a crash. And some sort of knee injury for sure. But we do it anyway. As fast as you can go, as hard as you can push, down to the bottom. I like skiing. Wish I could make it happen more often. For now I settle for two trips a year. Once with the fam, and once with friends. This weekend Sara and I hit up Beaver Creek for some fabulous scenery and wide open runs. We weren't disappointed. It's so beautiful there with all the Aspen trees and empty lift lines. We skied our hearts out. My quads have been reminding me all day.
To top it off the day before was spent with the newest baby in my life - little Kolbe (whose photos will be posted on the photo blog soon). Time went too fast with him and his momma. What a precious little boy! I mean, I know we say that about all babies, but he absolutely is.
Below is a view from our patio window. The winter scene is so barren, it almost looks like the photo is black and white. Can we get some springtime up in here - I need color in my life! And below that are our winter pride and joys. Some day my skis will grow up and be big skis like Sara's. And the next is the aftermath of a day of skiing. Boots and gloves drying by the fireplace always make me smile. It's evidence of a good day's work.
Also, just a note - I wear a helmet when skiing. Just in case the teetering turns into tottering. Also helps when going through tree trails. Branches tend to be attracted to my head.
mines...
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And... look who I got to spend the weekend with a few weeks ago. Piper turned two! Unbelievable. She is so much fun it's hard to leave. And soon there will be another one joining her. Can't wait to hang out everyone again. Thanks Bridget and Zach for being such great hosts.
official...
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In other exciting news... last weekend our dodgeball team won the league tournament. Woot! The championship game was tight, and we came back from an 0-3 slump. Everyone made awesome plays and worked their booties off... and Sara's took the cake. She ended a match against a guy that finally turned our losing streak. It was the highlight of our season. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy playing dodgeball with these guys. It is ridiculous. I'd play year round if they'd let me... go Team Alpha Super Awesome Cool Dynamite Wolf Squadron!
announcing...
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Finally, finally, finally. Time for the drum roll. Break out the squawky cheerleader megaphone. I've been holding this in for way too long. Okay, not even holding it in very well, but it's Facebook official and I can at last share the most wonderful news.
There is going to be a baby in the family. A little, itty-bitty bundle of great swaddled joy will be arriving this September into the arms of my sister-in-law and brother.
I'm going to be an aunt.
Ecstatic. Absolutely, wonderfully ecstatic. So much so, I learned to spell that word. Because it's a toughie.
I'm going to be an aunt!
Please pray for momma and baby's health and safety during this time of miracle-working. It takes a lot of work to grow that little life.
There is going to be a baby in the family. A little, itty-bitty bundle of great swaddled joy will be arriving this September into the arms of my sister-in-law and brother.
I'm going to be an aunt.
Ecstatic. Absolutely, wonderfully ecstatic. So much so, I learned to spell that word. Because it's a toughie.
I'm going to be an aunt!
Please pray for momma and baby's health and safety during this time of miracle-working. It takes a lot of work to grow that little life.
lah-lah land...
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It's sort of funny how your mind tries to make sense of things through your dreams. Here are the real life scenarios: my roommate is recently engaged - hooray! - and since she's also our landlord, three of us will need new housing soon; also, I'm on the hunt for a different car before mine goes on the fritz and it has been chaos trying to find the right one - test drives, online car searches that don't seem to end, dealers calling throughout the day, more test drives, and lots and lots of phone calls to Dad and Justin. So, although both things are good, it's been a little stressful.
Here's what my brain did about it a few nights ago. After a failed dream of test driving an inflatable floating boat car (the nose sank and the trunk stuck straight out of the lake), I went to another dealership and found the perfect one. It was a green, wood-planked camper. My roommates ran in and started claiming their beds (or more like couches that turned into beds). There were three, one for each of us. The girls were jumping around like it was Christmas morning and I knew it was meant to be. I had a means of transportation, and we all had a home. We couldn't believe what a match we'd found!
I woke up and laughed my hiney off while replaying the dream to Jen. Interesting, since laughter is a natural stress reliever. Maybe dreams are more powerful than we can quite comprehend. Watch out for my green camper.
pow-chica-pow-pow...
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The past week has been a strange one. Due to the snowstorm, Kelly very, very kindly provided me lodging Monday night. We had one six-hour appointment Tuesday, she only lives a mile from the office, and we were worried the predicted storm would prevent my commute. And, as that appointment came to an end Tuesday afternoon, we quickly realized the weather was much, much worse than the night before. Her husband got stuck in their neighborhood, and then again at the office, so we knew my little car wouldn't make it far. Then she even more kindly put me up for the second night. We pretended we were at the ski lodge as the freezing winds and blowing snow swirled about outside our door. Cold beer and spiked hot chocolate never tasted so good. I was SO grateful for their hospitality. There is no way my car would have made it on the roads that night, and it was a blessing to be warm, safe, and cozy.
Then two days later I was at a ski lodge. The kind with real mountains and more snow. The family headed to Copper for our annual ski trip. We awoke to nine inches of fluffy goodness Saturday morning (it's so FLUFFY!). Best snow, hands down, I've ever skied. It was surreal. Like floating on a cloud. We couldn't see our skis under all the fluff, and the peaceful quiet that surrounded us as more snow fell... unbelievable. I did not want to go back to Kansas. Almost felt like throwing a tantrum, wailing, and begging my parents not to go. It was that beautiful. And I miss my family.
So, I'm back in Kansas City, and what do you know... more snow. And as beautiful as it's all been, being welcomed by snow covered, icy streets this morning about put me over the edge. I'm all about winter and enjoying the snow, enduring the cold, and making the best of it (we live in the Midwest people; the bitter cold happens every year - let's get used to it and quit complaining. Please...) but today was too much. Perhaps it was the absolutely frigid temperatures coupled with my broken car heater and the ridiculously pokey driver I ended up following to work. Maybe it was the fact my vacation ended all too soon. Or maybe it was just the wrong side of the bed for me this morning. Whatever it was - I was a big ol' grump. And now I'm feeling pretty bad about just how grumpy I was.
Seriously, it's just snow. And spring will be here soon.
Well, sort of soon.
Maybe.
One day closer.
Seriously, please.
Please get warmer and melt all this ridiculous snow.
Pretty, pretty please.
And I'll have a better attitude and stop being so grumpy.
Just make the sun shine again.
And now, a very fitting poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Some of you may not be into poems. I'm not always myself. But this one just hit the spot.
The Snow-Storm
Then two days later I was at a ski lodge. The kind with real mountains and more snow. The family headed to Copper for our annual ski trip. We awoke to nine inches of fluffy goodness Saturday morning (it's so FLUFFY!). Best snow, hands down, I've ever skied. It was surreal. Like floating on a cloud. We couldn't see our skis under all the fluff, and the peaceful quiet that surrounded us as more snow fell... unbelievable. I did not want to go back to Kansas. Almost felt like throwing a tantrum, wailing, and begging my parents not to go. It was that beautiful. And I miss my family.
So, I'm back in Kansas City, and what do you know... more snow. And as beautiful as it's all been, being welcomed by snow covered, icy streets this morning about put me over the edge. I'm all about winter and enjoying the snow, enduring the cold, and making the best of it (we live in the Midwest people; the bitter cold happens every year - let's get used to it and quit complaining. Please...) but today was too much. Perhaps it was the absolutely frigid temperatures coupled with my broken car heater and the ridiculously pokey driver I ended up following to work. Maybe it was the fact my vacation ended all too soon. Or maybe it was just the wrong side of the bed for me this morning. Whatever it was - I was a big ol' grump. And now I'm feeling pretty bad about just how grumpy I was.
Seriously, it's just snow. And spring will be here soon.
Well, sort of soon.
Maybe.
One day closer.
Seriously, please.
Please get warmer and melt all this ridiculous snow.
Pretty, pretty please.
And I'll have a better attitude and stop being so grumpy.
Just make the sun shine again.
And now, a very fitting poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Some of you may not be into poems. I'm not always myself. But this one just hit the spot.
The Snow-Storm
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The steed and traveler stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The steed and traveler stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind's masonry
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structure, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structure, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
gonna buy me a mercury...
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I'm sort of in the market for a new (used) car. Poor little red has been leaking oil for three years, and after having it recently diagnosed I also learned it's leaking in three places. Other than that, nothing is amiss. It drives like a charm and always gets me where I want to go. However, I was recently booted out of my garage space because of the mess it was making - understandably so - and that gave me a little motivation to start the car search.
I am not the best car shopper. I like cars that are pretty and that's about all I know. I can mumble about mpgs and (I seriously can't even think of anything else...) stuff like that, but I just know I like how it looks, or I don't. That being the case, I depend on my Dad and Brother to guide me in my quest for the perfect match of price, looks, mpgs, and all the other things important in car purchases.
Dad has been keeping an eye out in his neck of the woods in Western Kansas, and he called one day saying he'd found a beautiful, fully-loaded 2006 in immaculate condition. And he was right - diamond white (one of three colors I like... white, silver, or most preferable - black), leather interior (also strongly hoped for), back-up assist, spotless, etc. The only trouble... it was a Buick. Yep, a Buick. Technically a Lucerne, which is the same car as a Chevy Impala... but still a Buick. I was skeptical. And I kept dragging my feet about the whole idea. But Dad was sold on it. "Just test drive one and give it a try," he said.
Okay. I will give the half-ton grannie mobile a try.
He was right. It was a nice car, with really nice features. Although the dealer asked if I had five kids to haul around, it didn't feel as cumbersome as I'd imagined. In fact, it made me feel very safe compared to the more economy friendly cars I'd been surveying.
I called to give him my driving report. "It's a little large, and maybe more car than I need, but I did feel extra safe in it, and that was really nice," I told him.
He then said that's what he liked about it too. That it scared him to death to have his kids out in bigger cities driving small cars with the chance of terrible accidents happening at high speed commuting. His words reminded me of how much he hated the frequent road trips and flights with I had with my previous job. He said it made him sick to think of me always on the road or in the sky.
Hearing him say that made me feel bad about how much I'd teased him about the Buick. Good parents are always looking after their children, whether a 7-month old or a 27-year old adult. As we grow up, go out on our own to find our way in the world, I think we forget just how much our parents still think about us, worry about us, and pray for us. And as much as we like to declare our independence and maturity, I'm thankful parenting doesn't end at 18 or even at college graduation. I'm thankful to have a Dad that wants to keep his daughter as safe as he possibly can, even when he's 389 miles across the state of Kansas. I'm even thankful for that silly Buick. Because to Dad, that Buick equals love.
I am not the best car shopper. I like cars that are pretty and that's about all I know. I can mumble about mpgs and (I seriously can't even think of anything else...) stuff like that, but I just know I like how it looks, or I don't. That being the case, I depend on my Dad and Brother to guide me in my quest for the perfect match of price, looks, mpgs, and all the other things important in car purchases.
Dad has been keeping an eye out in his neck of the woods in Western Kansas, and he called one day saying he'd found a beautiful, fully-loaded 2006 in immaculate condition. And he was right - diamond white (one of three colors I like... white, silver, or most preferable - black), leather interior (also strongly hoped for), back-up assist, spotless, etc. The only trouble... it was a Buick. Yep, a Buick. Technically a Lucerne, which is the same car as a Chevy Impala... but still a Buick. I was skeptical. And I kept dragging my feet about the whole idea. But Dad was sold on it. "Just test drive one and give it a try," he said.
Okay. I will give the half-ton grannie mobile a try.
He was right. It was a nice car, with really nice features. Although the dealer asked if I had five kids to haul around, it didn't feel as cumbersome as I'd imagined. In fact, it made me feel very safe compared to the more economy friendly cars I'd been surveying.
I called to give him my driving report. "It's a little large, and maybe more car than I need, but I did feel extra safe in it, and that was really nice," I told him.
He then said that's what he liked about it too. That it scared him to death to have his kids out in bigger cities driving small cars with the chance of terrible accidents happening at high speed commuting. His words reminded me of how much he hated the frequent road trips and flights with I had with my previous job. He said it made him sick to think of me always on the road or in the sky.
Hearing him say that made me feel bad about how much I'd teased him about the Buick. Good parents are always looking after their children, whether a 7-month old or a 27-year old adult. As we grow up, go out on our own to find our way in the world, I think we forget just how much our parents still think about us, worry about us, and pray for us. And as much as we like to declare our independence and maturity, I'm thankful parenting doesn't end at 18 or even at college graduation. I'm thankful to have a Dad that wants to keep his daughter as safe as he possibly can, even when he's 389 miles across the state of Kansas. I'm even thankful for that silly Buick. Because to Dad, that Buick equals love.
easy, breezy, beautiful...
|
Hello 2011. How quickly you snuck up on me.
I'm a resolution writer. Mom had our family making yearly goals for as long as I could write sentences. As a teenager, it annoyed me - completely. I whined and griped and carried-on like a 2-year old throwing a temper-tantrum when she had us sit down at the kitchen table and make our list. As a pretend adult, like many other things, I realize Mom might have known best. Plain and simple, goals help me get things done. And although I like to wander, I also find fulfillment in accomplishment and dream finding. Try as I might, lofty ambitions don't fall in my lap. I have to work for them. And having goals has been an motivator and encourager. Probably more than anything, goals are great reminder of where I'd like to be and some options on how to get there.
I had five specific resolutions for 2010, each of various forms - volunteering, 10:30pm bedtime, making time for daily meditation and prayer, etc - some of which I followed through on, some I barely did, and the whole get more sleep thing... not even close. But I also had an overall resolution. I borrowed it from a fellow blogger at The Adventure Monkey. He completely inspired me throughout the past year, and I wanted to once again share his mantra - as a reminder of how I lived a life worth living in 2010, and how to continue doing so in 2011:
'Today I refilled my little desk calendar with 365 more days. All the sudden, I had a moment. "This was a pretty good year," I thought. I need to do things for real on this next set of pages. I need divine inspiration, a spark of ingenuity to turn these ideas of mine into actions. I can't bear to live in this cage and change the calendar in 365 days. I am going to go for it next year. I will live as it is for an important reason, a purpose. I will not give up... This is the year that ideas must turn into actions. These next 365 days I dedicate to a life worth living.'
The first resolution of this year is to cancel my Netflix account. I found a direct correlation between how many movies watched in a month to how little I blogged in the same month. It pretty much took over my evenings, sleep, and social life. So effective today, no more discs in the mail. Or instant watch. Or... okay, I miss it already.
But it feels good to blog again. More frequent blogging is a goal as well. A little dose of free-time and inspiration can go a long way.
I'm a resolution writer. Mom had our family making yearly goals for as long as I could write sentences. As a teenager, it annoyed me - completely. I whined and griped and carried-on like a 2-year old throwing a temper-tantrum when she had us sit down at the kitchen table and make our list. As a pretend adult, like many other things, I realize Mom might have known best. Plain and simple, goals help me get things done. And although I like to wander, I also find fulfillment in accomplishment and dream finding. Try as I might, lofty ambitions don't fall in my lap. I have to work for them. And having goals has been an motivator and encourager. Probably more than anything, goals are great reminder of where I'd like to be and some options on how to get there.
I had five specific resolutions for 2010, each of various forms - volunteering, 10:30pm bedtime, making time for daily meditation and prayer, etc - some of which I followed through on, some I barely did, and the whole get more sleep thing... not even close. But I also had an overall resolution. I borrowed it from a fellow blogger at The Adventure Monkey. He completely inspired me throughout the past year, and I wanted to once again share his mantra - as a reminder of how I lived a life worth living in 2010, and how to continue doing so in 2011:
'Today I refilled my little desk calendar with 365 more days. All the sudden, I had a moment. "This was a pretty good year," I thought. I need to do things for real on this next set of pages. I need divine inspiration, a spark of ingenuity to turn these ideas of mine into actions. I can't bear to live in this cage and change the calendar in 365 days. I am going to go for it next year. I will live as it is for an important reason, a purpose. I will not give up... This is the year that ideas must turn into actions. These next 365 days I dedicate to a life worth living.'
The first resolution of this year is to cancel my Netflix account. I found a direct correlation between how many movies watched in a month to how little I blogged in the same month. It pretty much took over my evenings, sleep, and social life. So effective today, no more discs in the mail. Or instant watch. Or... okay, I miss it already.
But it feels good to blog again. More frequent blogging is a goal as well. A little dose of free-time and inspiration can go a long way.
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