Showing posts from October, 2011

Writer's Block- unblocked

I know where the writer's block is coming from. I want to tell the story of the greatest summer ever- the summer of dancing in the middle of a cow field on fresh beach sand, a stove hiding in the unfinished den, the summer of boys, boys, and ... more boys. There were farm trips, camping trips, shanty trips, more than one lake rendezvous, and we are not even to the fourth of July.

We would keep our watermelon cold by throwing it in the lake. We would have high school parties and spend our mornings planning our evenings. We would work when we needed money, but mostly tried to pass the time until we were together again. Every night brought a new adventure, a new disposable camera and new pictures from the night before.

This was the last summer of truly being young and carefree, while still being an adult. We were in our twenties. We were carefree and we were in love with being out of love.

It was awesome.

It was the summer that changed everything. 

Is is, however, a different story.


Writer's Block

I am at a complete writer's block right now because I want to get it right. I want this next part to convey all the fun, the youthfulness, and companionship we had during the greatest summer ever. So, here I sit- writing, erasing, writing, saving... rewriting.... trashing.... so, give me a minute. I'm getting back to the story of Husband.

How do I introduce the two law students and convey their personalities?

How do I explain the third grade romance and sixth grade actions?

There's so much to tell and I need to get it right.

So, just another moment please.

More flowers from sweet Husband

Have you ever seen such a pretty rose? I haven't.

Make these!

These are so good... I woke up in the middle of the night last night to eat one. Go in with fair warning!

1 cup peanut butter 1 cup brown sugar  (we're off to a good start!) 1 egg, slightly beaten melted chocolate (let's keep it even-- 1 cup)
Mix first three ingredients and spread in the bottom of a small square or rectangle pan. Make smooth with your fingers and bake in a preheated oven for about 20-30 minutes (350). Remove and spread melted chocolate over. Let cool.... and be prepared to be addicted.
Cookies can also be made- 24 1.5 inch balls and mash with a fork. Drizzle with chocolate upon cooking. They will take about 12 minutes in the same 350 oven.
Yum. Yum. Yum.

Prom Season

I don’t care what side of the break up- whether break-er or break-ee- nobody leaves happy.  The Boy and I made plans. Our plans fell through.  My bags packed, my house sold, and I am home with my tail between my legs. Little did I know at that lonely moment I was not alone.  Tractor was home. ** Prom Queen was home. **  Chicken was home. ** Copper was home. ** It was March and spring was around the corner. As in high school, Brother would let me pal around with him and his friends. My insurance practice was hardly off the ground and I was in the school of [very] hard knocks. It was the two of us, both newly single and both on the prowl. We were buddies in that way only siblings can be. It was on one of these prowls that I reconnected with Prom Queen, a friend from 10 years prior. Queenie, for short, just moved home from Michigan. Prior to this, she did not qualify for the 2004 Summer Olympics USA rowing team. The other coxswain (pronounced Cox-N) and Queenie went head to head in the closest t…

A Fallen Officer

Recently, Augusta lost a police officer. His funeral is today and while I did not know the man- I know what he stood for, what he protected us from, and what his calling was.

An excerpt from today's newspaper:

“It’s a dangerous business we’re in,” Grossman said. “We come out here and work every day dealing with people that are dangerous, on drugs, on alcohol, mentally unstable, but we do it because we’re the protectors. (Paugh) was a protector.” Grossman looked out at the crowd, digging his hands in his pocket, and tried to find the words to describe his friend. “Do you know what ‘cop’ means? It means Champions of the People. That’s what he was.”
May the Lord protect those who protect us and may J.D. be resting in peace in a better place. Thank you for people like him.

Bad Intel

This next part is much shorter, as it comes from what Husband told me years later about The Note.  Husband got out of his biology class early that April day and saw The Note. He read it, smiled (I added the smile) and headed back to the fraternity house to call me. He had no Nokia. Frank was there and K.C. was cooking lunch.  The conversation broke down something like this:  Hey, Frank. You know Brother, right? Yeah- live with him.  Cool, I was going to call Wife and see if she wanted to get together tonight. Ya know anything about her? Wife? I think she’s dating someone Really? She left me a note on my car to call her today.  That’s really shady- yeah, I’m sure she’s dating someone and they are pretty serious, too. She took him to the Masters the other day. Brother hasn’t met him yet, but heard he was a real [insert a handheld device a mechanic would use]. Hunh, really? Yeah.  Uh-okay, never mind.  And that.... was that. For now.

I'm fun. I'm cool.

He didn't call.

How could he not call? I'm fun, I'm cool. I left a note. On a car. That's something someone fun & cool would do, right?

It's fine. It's totally fine. Whatever. Like I said- I'm fun... I'm cool.

I was showered, my work was done, and there was no way that after the dreadful date the day before was I going to sit around my sorority house feeling sorry for myself. There was no box to check in regards to my like-ability. It was not written in Crayola. No love had been confessed and I was surely not a secret admirer.

Nothing to be embarrassed about; it was just a note from a girl who wanted a free beer from a boy.

There is no better time and place to be a co-ed than springtime in Athens. It was springtime & I was a co-ed. Summer was around the corner and I would be moving to Morton Ave- my first time out of the sorority house.

I pull on my sexiest jeans, heels, and halter top. I make a plan that involves shooting pool at the Chi Phi ho…

High Fives & Beer

This story is so much better in person around the dinner table. It takes a long time to tell it- but in the end, it's totally worth it. I hate those stories that are completely encapsulated in "we met in a bar" or "we met at a date night in college" ... there is no panache, no zing, and just no life behind that statement.

So, I called Husband up and had no way to decipher between Husband and Roommate as both had

* Husband for a name
* hometowns in Moultrie
* glasses
* brown hair
* little sisters
* SAE pledge-ship
* left hand dominance

Seriously? What were the odds?

So, life moved forward to the greatest summer ever. Enter Team Prom. Enter "My Pious Friends & Drunken Companions." Enter 2004.

Wait, let's back up.

There are two summers that are truly iconic in my mind. Summers that exemplify what a summer should be and summers that dread the coming of fall and the ending of the greatest times.


Summers are always fun, but if you get one summe…

Taking me back causes me to move forward

Until yesterday, the irony that my costume was dubbed "My Future" when Husband and Wife met escaped me.

So, where were we? Right.... right... right... we were at the bar with the infamous Discover card.

I knew his name was Husband.
I knew he was an SAE pledge.
I knew I had a date night coming up & no idea how to ask a boy I didn't know out on a date.

(I'd learn, but it would take a while. I would learn a lot about the male persuasion, actually. Eventually, I would have to go on 865 other first dates before Husband.)

Two days later- those are the rules for the boys, right?- Two days later, the Stalker Guide (AKA the Greek Directory) was in my lap. Leafing through the fraternities until SAE and browsing the long list until the first Husband with the first 357 prefix of a phone number.

He was a freshman so he could be in the dorms.  It was a gamble- but you can't win if you don't play.


My fingers start sweating. I swallow. It's a b…

Going to Athens takes me back

Husband met Wife at the SAE/KKG Halloween social in 1999. I was wearing my prom dress from the year before -- renamed as a costume, “Jenny- the druggy years.” It was a short silver dress with hologram checks. Silver hose, lots o’ body glitter, and iridescent shoes completed the outfit.  It was bright.  It was sassy.  It was so very tacky.  When asked what I was (as the other sorority sisters opted for “Hooters” and the Playboy bunnies), it ranged from “Jenny” to “a ray of light”, to “my future”... among other things.  Sweet Husband was a pledge. He was dressed as Richard Simons. By his choice... Husband’s roommate was also a pledge. He was a roller derby queen, complete with the roller skates. Again, his choice... Wife was dancing with Roommate at One Love (which, when my inlaws would receive Husband’s credit card bill, my FIL would call him to say that his mother is crying- thinking Husband used the card at a brothel. What an advanced society we live in- a brothel that takes Discover.), com…

WOW, that feels so much better!

Greetings from the former meet-the-newest-cagle (who is now almost 2 point 5) and the current Life-Of-Cagle, a total pull from Life of Pi.

So, let's start fresh.


I'm your hostess to this story, known fondly by my dashing husband as Wife. Yep, that's my nickname and I love it so much it is embroidered on my Christmas stocking (that Husband forgot to stock last year, but that's a different story).

Husband is around a little bit- not as much as I would like, but he is a pediatrician doing an ICU fellowship. Last week, he worked 112 hours (let's think about this... there are, what, like 140 hours in a week, right?). Like I said, for the first year of LMC's life, we called him the Curly Headed Man. Curly Headed Man is not embroidered on his stocking; Husband is.

Which brings me to LMC- the star, the future debutante, and current two year old light of happy things little girl. It's a lot of adjectives, but the point is- Little Miss Cagle is some kind of wonde…


I'm sitting in the dark right now as LMC is watching Mickey Mouse before nap time. I have decided it is time to do a little streamlining- shortening the name of the ole' blog. So, we have a new home- as soon as I figure out how to import/export, that is.

I will keep you posted, but please make a note--- it seems  a little easier than meetthenewestcagle DOT blogspot DOT com. Maybe I'm wrong, but either way- Mickey Mouse is doing the hotdog dance, thus it is time to tell the trains "night night."

Holly's House

Say hi to Holly:

Holly and I are Kappas- Kentucky & UGA. Holly was our traveling consultant and by far, my favorite. So much so, I used precious funds to not only purchase an extra picture from Picture Man (a ridiculous $3.50), but to track her down & MAIL her the picture. This was from Halloween, 2001- Kalling All Kappas with Kappa Sigma, Kappa Kappa Gamma, Kappa Alpha Theta, Kappa Alpha, Kappa Delta... and some others, but my brain has been out of Greek mode for too long.
Holly was down to earth, laid back, and just... fun. She laughed at late night rendezvouses of Easy Mac & had all kinds of funny stories, not to mention an encyclopedia of KKG knowledge, that I thought was really cool. 
This picture was taken over four years after her boyfriend was murdered in front of her. She was then brutally raped and left for dead. 
Didn't see that one coming, did you?
Neither did we. Normally traveling consultants would lecture us about partying too much-- but we had the highes…

The Grocery List

Sometimes, Husband will see Wife's grocery list on the counter. Sometimes, on the list he will add flowers for my beautiful wife.

Wife is happy to oblige his wishes (and save about $75 on having them delivered- which he is happy to spend, I... the eternal cheapskate... would rather not).

For the past few days, these happy little guys have been the first thing I see when the trolley bells awaken me.

Who is Mommy's pal?


a conversation relayed that is being re-relayed

Yesterday, An-Ew's mom helped me out and let LMC nap at her house. Simple task, right?

It was almost too good to be true.

Up the stairs and through the door, An-Ew & LMC holding hands and hopping, each trying to out-hop the other. As nap time quickly neared, Bits (as LMC calls her, which I think is adorable) scooped up the princess to place her in JJ's crib.

NONONONONONONONONONO.... as LMC shuttered in fear, practically crawling up Bits' arm to her shoulder, you know... like a parrot.

LMC: An-ew's bed? Look, An-Ew's bed. I sleep An-Ew's bed.
Bits: Sure, why not?

Tucked toe to toe, she closed the door and thought, "Three? This is a piece of cake."

After about 30 minutes she started hearing this:

Hi An-Ew!
Hi Leen!

a pause....

An-Ew: Wake?
LMC: Wake!
LMC: Wake?
An-Ew: Wake!
LMC: Cool beans

a longer pause....

An-Ew wake?
An-ew wake.
Leen wake?
Leen wake.
Hi An-Ew.
Hi Leen.

a new pause...

An-Ew bed.
My bed!
Yeah, An-Ew's …

$7 can buy your baby both laughter and tears


Potty Training... a work in progress

When LMC crosses her legs and starts squirming, it's a sure sign that she is avoiding gardening.

Mama: LMC, let's go to the potty. LMC: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Mama: Okay, come on- let's get dots (M&Ms) and toys. Let's [plant a daisy]. LMC: noooo..... T-T-potty! Mama: Whatever, let's just GO!
We scoop. We run. We celebrate.
Today, well, not to get into specifics, all three Cagles were home and LMC's bathroom was occupied. LMC's legs were crossed and was refusing to garden. 
Mama: Come one, LMC- let's go sit on Mommy's potty! Let's go! LMC: NO!
We scoop. We run. We sit. We wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.
The smallest daisy was procured with a gleeful "I DEED IT! Mommy! Look! I deed it!"
Mama: You did, Baby. Do you have to go any more? LMC: I go t-t-potty.
Mama: Okay, let's go T-T-Potty. LMC: Make water? Mommy, make water?
Mama: Go ahead; make water. LMC: All done, Mommy.
Mama: Okay, let's go knock on the door and tell Daddy …