Showing posts from February, 2014

The blog lives another day

Towards the end of my DC existence, a friend asked what I will blog about once I move. I was quick to respond--

"What are you talking about? The only things I talk about are the kids and y'all."

I have finally hit that point-- my life was interesting. I did neat things. I had adventures. I was eager to get home, sit in front of my computer as the child napped, or rested, or colored on the wall. I was excited to sit down and spout my tales of motherhood or of friendship.

And then I moved home. That is not to say that my life has not been interesting, but I have been wondering around the annals of my simple mind contemplating what to write. What story do I want to regale you with? What wit or knowledge do I want to pass on to those out there who read about our little life.

Talk about pressure, too. Now that I am back in Hometown, I cannot go a single day without at least one person coming up to me with some sort of compliment or comment about this little section of the Wor…

The Carnage

Before I forget... this is what our house looked like after the storm.


I like to cook. This is shocking to the daily readers, I know. But, in all honesty- I like the whole experience of dinner. Planning, purchasing, preparing, setting the table, sitting down, and enjoying. The clean-up? That's my least favorite part and I try to tell Husband that since I cooked, he cleans.
He says that when the mess is this large- I should cook and clean. 
I remind him that only the best cooks make the best messes. 
Recently, Plated popped up in my Facebook feed and I gave it a click. With the offer of four free plates with the purchase of four plates, I thought it might be worth the investment to give it a try. A few days later, my first batch of plates arrived and I was hooked. Since I was unsure as to what I was receiving, I thought it might be nice of me to walk you through the process....
After running errands, I saw this on my front porch:

It was warm that day; the temperature alludes me. But, the box is so well packaged- the items were still frozen. Opening t…

The Fraternity House

We have power.
We have Internet.
We have a fridge and freezer- both working.
We have lights.

It was when I was able to cut the lights on and looked around did I make the startling realization that our house looks like it should be on Milledge Ave with greek letters hanging over the door.

There were beds in rooms that were not bedrooms. Sheets hang over windows and blankets cover doors. Wine bottles intermingle with empty Capri Suns and meal remnants litter the counter.

There were dishes in the bathtub and the backyard is a mess. Our sole mode of communication and tether to the outside world were our smartphones, which had to be charged in the car.

All of our meals were cooked on the grill and sleeping on the couch is in preference to sleeping in a bed. Friends coming and going at all hours certainly did nothing to change the attitude that the fraternity house is coming back in style.

It was... interesting.

On Saturday, people started to slowly get power back. I looked at Husband and s…

Cue the locusts

I am trying to be witty and write a blog about the past four days, but the fact of the matter is- we have survived days without power, an ice storm, a pine tree in our pool, an earthquake, and debris... debris... and more debris. I am currently trying to find some sanity and electricity at the Chick-Fil-A where LMC can play with a friend and Bennie can catch a nap. Rounding into hour four and meal two sitting at my wobbly table... witty packed up and left yesterday with my pleasant attitude and positive outlook.

We have been promised that this will be the last night that we fall asleep without power. I'm not holding my breath.


Let's leave it at this...

I'll post pictures and regale you with my wits when they return.

Hot Yoga

I love yoga. It's fun... okay, so it's not really fun, but it is very relaxing. Okay, so it's not all that relaxing either- but it is a good workout. And the sweet reward of skinny jeans is on the horizon.

I have been practicing yoga for years and can do all the crazy breathing while ohm-ing in total Namaste-ness. My plank is intense and I can chat-ah-ranga from plank to up-dog to down-dog in the slow motion, deep breath that my instructors tell us to strive for.

However, my feathers and beak come out when it comes to venturing off the reservation from plain 'ole yoga. I go into a conniption when the sub-teacher puts Journey in the music mix instead of the chanting monks. Give me yoga pants for yoga and keep your hippie music for your car-ride home. We have breaths to breathe and ohms to chant along with the blind monks of Nova Scotia.

After years and years of hearing how amazing Hot Yoga is- I decided it was time to step up my yoga game. Yesterday, I ventured into the…

The Ford Farm

Tucked between Lakeland and Willacoochie Georgia is this mystic place I had only heard about, woven in tales of hunters, lodgers, and bourbon drinkers. The Ford Farm is a place tucked way back on a dirt road engulfed in Spanish moss and thick with history. To be perfectly honest, it isn't more than about ten years old- but you would never know that driving down the windy dirt road, following the ancient signs to a place where even the rocking chairs slow down.

Husband, Wife, LMC, and Bennie packed our bags for a weekend away. Away from the internet, television, phones, and all those things that make us so busy-- that make us too busy for each other. FIL came from Smalltown and my parents meandered down, too. The seven of us took over the entire quail plantation, spilling from the main lodge into two log cabins and an additional bunking room. They opened up the mess hall for us-- long picnic tables in three rows running the length of the screened in room.

The Ford Farm is staffed …