I'm a little curious

Today I roamed into Karis room to look for something and found some very strange groupings of objects. I couldn't help but grab my camera to document the interesting combinations I spotted. While I know these are the evidence of healthy, normal play, I wonder what an archaeologist would conclude about my child based on these findings.

An egg nestled in a slipper.


A sock sandwich.


A hamster in a blender.


An Easter basket stuffed with a pair of panties, a pink hat, a superman cape, and a toaster.


A purse stuffed with 3 Mardi Gras bead necklaces, a cell phone, a baby bottle of lotion, and a ping pong ball.

A trip, a detour, and some new friends

A few weeks ago my friend Georgia invited me to join her on a trip to visit her hometown, Americus, Georgia. We were going to attend a ceremony dedicating a highway to her father who was the founder of Habitat for Humanity and the Fuller Center for Housing. Although my friendship with Georgia is new, I couldn't pass up a chance at adventure and some time away from the everyday grind. I also knew it would give me a chance to spend time getting to know Georgia, someone I seemed to connect with quite easily.

So after arranging babysitting and disaster-proofing the weekend for my husband and child, I hopped in Georgia's car, and we were off. The conversation flowed easily for the first hour. To be honest it flowed so incredibly easy, each of our thoughts bouncing off of the other's, one idea building on the next as we shared where we were in our marriages, family life, artistic pursuits, and humanitarian ideas. Bounce, bounce, bounce went our ideas...until the car literally began to bounce. Speeding down I-75, the car abruptly began to slow down. The panic started to creep in when Georgia realized the error of our ways. We had run out of gas.

I rolled down the windows as Georgia called for roadside assistance. "About an hour," they told us. Within 15 minutes, a nice, young sheriff pulled up behind us, and asked if we needed help. Georgia batted her pretty eyelashes and asked in her sweetest voice, "Policemen don't, by any chance, provide the service of getting gas, do they?"

"If you are still here in an hour, I might could," he responded, unfazed by her desperate, roadside charm and then drove off. An hour came and went with no return visit, and we learned that "might could" is just a polite, but definitive "no."

Fortunate for us, assistance eventually arrived in the form of two tow truck drivers who informed us we were in the middle of no where, a.k.a. Jasper, Florida. They were nice men, to-the-point with thick country accents and rural sensibilities. In no time they filled our tank with gas. We said thanks and cranked the car only to find it had no crank. The battery was dead. So the nice, disbelieving men pulled up their truck, connected our vehicles, and began to give us power. But, as if in a very bad dream, when Georgia tried to turn the key, she couldn't. It was stuck. Very stuck...as in all four of us taking turns pulling, pushing, wriggling, and praying. Still, no unsticking. In a later retelling of the events, Georgia would remark that had we gotten the key to work, a tire would certainly have fallen off.

Seeing no other way around it, we agreed to be towed. We hopped in the back of their truck and deliberated on where to be towed. We could turn around and drive 20 minutes back to Lake City. It would be the cheapest route in tow fees, though the back-tracking on our trip seemed depressing. On the other hand, we could be towed further up north, and incur greater towing fees but be heading in the right direction. I could tell Georgia had a certain determination about her and wanted to keep going towards our final destination. She looked to me for my opinion.

I think I said something like, "I have babysitting all weekend. I don't care what we do, so long as we don't go back to Jacksonville." Yes, come to think of it, that's exactly how I put it.

Off to Valdosta we were. Fortunately for us, there was a rental car available, a premium car at a premium price. We laughed at the irony of going to a ceremony celebrating a man who championed for the poor and arriving in a luxury vehicle. But at least the ride would be smooth from here on out, assuming frequent trips to the gas station.

The tow guys followed us to the auto body shop where Georgia penned a long letter describing the reason for the tan, 1996 Saturn sitting in their empty parking lot on a Friday night. As she wrote, I talked with the men about their hometown of Jasper, learning that both men live on farms, care for livestock, and have been close friends ever since grade school. Everybody knows everybody in Jasper, and the doctor who delivered one guy's wife also delivered the wife's mother. That doctor retired only a couple of years ago.

I snapped some pictures of our new friends, and as Georgia posed with one of them, he turned to her and said, "You know the famous chef Art Smith? That's my brother. We grew up on the farm together. He used to be Oprah Winfrey's chef." She looked at me, wide-eyed, and I stepped in closer to hear the story. He retold it to me, and as I looked at his face, I instantly realized who his brother is. In fact, I had seen him two weeks prior on Top Chef remarking about one contestant's delicious pea puree.

"I know exactly who your brother is, just by looking at you!" I told him, and he seemed satisfied to be able to say he's related to someone famous. "Do you keep in touch?" I asked.

"No. We grew up on the farm together. He went off to the city, and I stayed with the farm. He visits my mom. He took her to China to see that great wall," he said.

We chatted a few more minutes while paperwork was signed, and they eventually packed up and drove off in the direction of Jasper, right back to their farms and livestock and the country doctor who treated four generations of patients. We hopped in our fancy car, relieved to be back on track.

You know, the rest of the weekend was really great. I met Georgia's wonderful family and a ton of great people who work for the Fuller Center for Housing. They are a dynamic group of people who are so passionate about building homes for the poor, and it was inspiring to witness the dedication of the highway in honor of Georgia's Dad. But I think what I'm going to remember most about my trip is that little off road adventure that started with a thirsty car on a busy highway. The road we were traveling down had other places to take us.

Ruth Ann Schabacker says, "Each day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbons." As a mother, wife, artist, and daughter of Christ, I'm learning to care less about the arriving and more about the process of getting there. There is so much humor, inspiration, and surprise in the adventure.

Life is funny. Even if I had tried I couldn't have thought of a funnier story than meeting these two guys with their famous connection. Then again, if I spent some more time in Jasper, Florida, I suppose I "might could".

Profoundly

:: Girl
Karis learned something this morning. When you meet your friends at the park down the street, bring your bike, your climbing shoes, and come prepared for a few games of hide-and-seek among the oak trees. But princesses who have no brothers beware: the boys will be sword-wielding pirates who are mostly disinterested in your dramatic stories about being a beautiful ballerina or princess.

:: Unsettling
Karis has many, many imaginary friends. But one in particular has been showing up a lot lately. His name is Ledge (pronounced with a soft z sound, as in Lezh). She gives him lots of orders, and he doesn't seem to mind being bossed around, unlike the rest of us. Yesterday, I asked Karis about Ledge, and she informed me he is 21. Creepy.

:: True
While talking about our newest, most adorable nephew Knox, Matt turns to me and comments, "You know, we only have one birth day. Every other year is just an anniversary." Brilliant.

:: Delicious
I'm going to make my favorite cookies in the whole world this afternoon. I know it's a ballsy claim, but I stand by it. I first tasted these thick and chewy double chocolate cookies at a quaint bed and breakfast in Lake City, Colorado a few years ago. After a long day of sightseeing, we walked in to find the owner sitting with a plate of warm, freshly-baked cookies. They (!) were (!)
amazing (!). I took a chance the next morning and asked for the recipe, and the owner introduced me to the wonderful world of America's Test Kitchen. I'm not sure which was the greater gift, the recipe or the introduction.

FYI: For access to the recipe, go to the ATK website, sign up for a 14-day free trial membership and search under "Thick and Chewy Double-chocolate Cookies."

A cute pair

I spent the morning reorganizing my messy closet. In my fervor to dust, organize, and eliminate, I missed the incredible hide-and-seek potential that's inherent to the task. I'm glad somebody found it.

State of the Re:union

I got a call last month that made my head start spinning. On the other end of the phone line was the multimedia producer of the NPR radio show State of the Re:union. The show is produced locally and airs on public radio stations around the United States. I'm a huge fan of NPR, finding the quality of their programs to be top notch. So when he asked if I would write for their website....well, the head spinning and mouth-watering and general flub-flubbering coming from my mouth indicated a whole-hearted YES!!!

I'm sharing this with you guys for a few reasons. First of all, I wanted to introduce you to the show, if you haven't heard of it yet. It's hosted by the talented poet and radio host Al Letson, and with the help of his producers, the show travels to cities and towns around the country to explore how people are building community. I really like Al's eloquent style, the thoughtful exploration of issues, and quality documentation of the challenges that face people across the country. It's a show that essentially looks for the stories and faces of hope in American communities--a concept I find redemptive on so many levels. And, of course, I'm excited that the style of the show really fits with my own passion for writing about people and their life stories.

I've been brought on to research and write about citizens that are building community in their town. Approximately once a month, I will write about one such organization, highlighting the efforts of the individuals to bring their city together. You will be able to find my interview in a column on the home page, right hand side under the title "Local Spotlight".

That brings me to my second point in sharing this news...my first piece went live yesterday! I wrote about a great farm in Chattanooga that promotes, educates, and advocates for local, sustainable farming in their city. It was so fun to research and write about the farm and the passionate people who run it. Check out the interview here.

And please check out the show! There are three episodes from the pilot season and five episodes from the first season. You can stream episodes from the website or check your local NPR station for when it airs in your town. It's a quality show that I think will make you want to grab a hot beverage and curl up with your radio or computer...or however you listen to NPR.

Signs of life

A caterpillar experiment becomes a beautiful black swallowtail butterfly release party. Karis squealed, and I was thoroughly giddy even though I knew what to expect. I think we'll do this every year.

Bob and I chatted on his lawn last night as the mosquitoes gnawed at our ankles and Karis twirled around on his lawn. Karis adores Bob, calling him by his first name like she would any friend her own age even though he's about 70 years older. He is equally smitten as well, and who could blame him? He spends his days tirelessly caring for his ailing wife who suffered a stroke a couple of years ago. So a little girl's frequent admission, "Bob, I love you!" does his exhausted, grieving heart good. Her love is simple and uncomplicated. I'm grateful for that.

The singing. Oh the singing. During playtime. Meal time. Drive time. Nap time. Bath time. Shopping-in-Publix-when-all-I-need-is-just-a-moment-of-peace-and-quiet-to-think time. All.the.time.

Pool time

::A morning elephant ride
::An afternoon bath and beverage
::An evening dip under Venus and Mema's watchful eye.

Pint-sized observations

Somebody has acquired my penchant for funky, mismatched bed time outfits. Poor, misguided girl.

We've been listening to a lot of Tom Petty in the car lately. This fact has not gone unnoticed by Karis who has memorized a good portion of the lyrics to "I won't back down." We recently looked in our rear view mirrors to see her singing loudly to the baby doll in her hands, "Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out..."

Karis is developing an interesting theology on death. Most of her information comes from the authoritative text There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. So she knows a horse will take you out cold, but then, once your gone, Karis informed me that you float out into space in a rocket ship with a helmet on. Hmm. That sounds like the intro to the show Little Eintsteins. It also sounds like it's time to answer some questions.

If looks could kill, we'd all be floating in space right now.

Sophie's farm, part 2

From the moment I stepped through the front door of Sophie's home I knew I was going to be taking a lot of pictures. The best way to describe their home is Scandinavia meets farmhouse rustic. In other words, a Swiss man falls in love with a southern woman from Georgia, and along with 5 charming kids, this is the home they've set up for themselves. It's brimming with color, family art, well-worn wooden toys, mid-century modern furniture, school science projects, and all of the lived in messiness that breathes life into the space.

And would you be surprised to know they managed to do all of this in a mobile home? It's true. Enjoy the tour!