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A spent afternoon with sweet friends ice skating.

Here they are doing the BFF chant.  Let’s just say A inherited my athletic ability- poor, poor girl.

I’ve spent the rest of the weekend chugging Gatorade, watching Indie films, and nursing a deep respiratory infection.

My one creative endeavor appalled my children.  Secretly I’m thrilled they are bibliophiles!

 Ever since our first walk through, I knew this brick needed some love.

Today was the day.  Only sweet Joey paints in a bogan.

my contribution was S’more chex mix

Much improved

reminds me now of Savannah instead of the Seventies

Before

After

The fire-box is up for an upgrade next weekend- stay tuned.

G looked a little worse for the wear  Saturday morning after successfully defending our home from Chicken Raptors Friday night.  Chicken Raptors are imaginary predators that infest our yard and can only be seen and defeated by Graham and his light saber.  Watch out for the orange ones, they’re by far the worst.

Ava made a set of black and white portraits of each family member.

  Joey surprised me with flowers.

Later over to Becky and Jesse’s for grilled pizza, home-brew, and tomahawk throwing competition without the kiddos- sweet, sweet freedom!

Tomahawks are surprising hard to throw- who knew?

then off to Barnes and Noble for coffee, people watching, and literary criticism.  Be still my heart.

So it’s been a bit dicey with ethical delemias, funky alignment of the planets, and caffeine withdrawal.  I’m trying to quit Coke Classic, cursing, and overinvolvement with impossible situations I can’t change.  I’ll let you know how all that works out for me.

In the meantime, it’s hard to overestimate the power of a sun-dried tomato risotto with a stout and extra spicy bloody mary.  Add in a free pass to avoid the bath and bedtime dance and I’m almost out of panic mode.

but maybe anxiety and pain and beauty and truth and the impossible all mixed up with a promise that life is not random but matters in a way that defies logic, maybe all that is just being human.

And after all what else are we all if not human?

Maybe it’s just life and not that uncommon to feel that life, at times, is really full of crud and overwhelming and full of people who don’t understand basic stats and people without any spine or compassion.

Maybe it’s normal or maybe it’s not.  Either way it’s real and I hope being honest about it least honors the fact that I’m trying.

Anywhoo, books.  I’ve always been a bibliophile but somehow kept it under wraps.  Now I embrace my nerdiness.  The current fave is Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.  Started it last night and had to make myself stop.  I’m awed that in the middle of my disillusionment, God threw this book at me at just the right moment.  Read it, the end.

Not my best book review but still this book made me think, “what if I die and Ava and Graham don’t know that I love this book and they should read it and they need to at least have a list of some sort, even if they ignore it because how can they ever know me if they don’t know how much I love this book”.

Anyway, so here’s the list A and G:

Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

the afore-mentioned, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

Little Bee by Chris Cleave

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks

Saving the World by Julia Alvarex

Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck

The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan

One Amazing Thing by Chitra Divakaruni

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver

P.S.

A and G, I’m embarrassed that two of the books have the Oprah book club sticker- but they are cheaper that way so please don’t hold that against them.

Yes that’s unfolded laundry in the corner.

Also I love you more than you can imagine.

Also I’m not planning on dying anytime soon but read the books anyway, k?

Joey was gone this past weekend for a rare weekend with college pals.  Missed him.  Tonight he talked to me about the GOP candidates and steam-powered cars.  I smiled,nodded, and added nothing to the conversation.

Yesterday it was Nice Pete’s picture songs of Num, Num babies.  I love that he’s random, witty, and has an off beat, dry sense of humor.  I’d go hang out with him after my dates in college.  Still like hanging out with him.

I love that he gets Cokes when I’m with him, even though he’s all about Dr. Pepper, just so he can share with me.  I love that he sings Nirvana and plays chess with Ava.  Wacky Joe, I’m a fan.

These funky lamps hopped in my cart on Thursday-I was powerless under their cheery spell and after all I do live in Knoxville

Phase One of fireplace makeover.  We used weathered wood from the Greenback farm to make a larger mantle.

Still needs trim and sizing, paint for bricks and brass but slightly better than before

 These are some of the cards from Panma, my great-grandmother.  Found huge box in my parents basement.  Not sure what but I needed to do something with them.  It was hours of going through the cards she kept throughout her life.

She died when I was 23.  I missed her funeral because I was teaching my first class at the university.  I should have gone.

Growing up I would roll my eyes when she told the same stories over and over.  Now I can appreciate that she raised two children through the great depression, forgave her husband’s infidelity and nursed him through the cancer that took his life, and taught Sunday school for over 50 years.

I would visit her on Saturday nights between my highschool job at Med-i-thrift and my social life.  I never stayed more than 20-30 minutes.  Wish now that I had.  Edna Mary Reagan Copley was a neat lady.  I hope that my great-grandchildren can say that years after I’m gone.