Interview With My Grandfather (And Grandmother) Part 2

Today's installment of my interview is the story of how my grandparents met. One of my greatest frustrations with my grandfather while he was alive was his... shall we say... minimalist storytelling style. I long(ed) to know what was really going on in his head. He had a complete inner world that he only gave the briefest glimpses into. So when I asked him about the night he met my grandmother, and he gave me only the barest bones of the story, I brought my grandmother (Frankie Abbott Maxwell)to flesh things out.

B: Well, I hear you were quiet a character too, but in a different way. What did you all do for fun?

S: Well, we didn't do a great deal. I liked to hunt. I was... I took a bandolier of ammunition one time and went out in a pillbox... was shooting at quail. I shot 'em 49 times at a covey of quail on the ground and finally the MPs come out and got me and wanted to know what in the world I was shooting at and I told them crows.

So they took my name and about a week later I had an officer call me in a room down there and says, asked me what I was shooting at, and I says quail, and he says "Did you kill any?" And I says, "I got 4." He says "You come back here with me, and he give me a 22 rifle and a box of shells and says, "Use this. It don't make near as much racket." (laughs)

So the rabbits lived hard. I killed 7 rabbits one day and brought them back to the mess hall and we peeled about a half bushel of potatoes, french fried them, and fried the rabbits, Was just sitting down to eat and the door opened, and everything's blacked out, and a colonel and a major come in. And they wanted to know what in the world we were doing in there, having a party? The colonel saw that plate of rabbit, reached over and got a hind leg and handed one to the major. He sat down and eat with us and said, "Now boys, any time you boys want to have a party, it's alright with me." So we... they set down and eat with us. We had quite a time.

B: Did you ever trade meat with the British?

S: Aw yeah. I'd swipe meat from the mess hall, take it to a couple down in a little old town called Weston. They'd give me eggs. We didn't have any eggs. I'd get eggs and bring them back to the barracks and cook them.

B: How did you meet these people?

S: He was a caretaker or something at the mess hall, kept the boilers going, and I met him. Got to go rabbit hunting with him. The British couldn't shoot the pheasants and hares because you had to be a property owner or something to be able to hunt them. I'd go out with him and I'd kill pheasants and scare him to death. But I told him in America, whatever you got up, you could kill. So I had a good time. His wife knew my plane and she sweated me out every mission I made. So I give her my silk scarf and she crocheted or knitted... I guess it's called crochet...embroidery. Embroidered the name of each of my missions into my scarf and give that to me when I finished my missions.

B: What happened to your bomber jacket?

S: Oh, my bomber jacket. I traded it for a German luger on the way home. Then I run the luger off on a tip board or something. Never kept it. I didn't think I'd ever want the stuff after... I give most of it away.

B: Well, what happened when you came home?

S: Well, when I come home I went to Atlantic City and I stayed about 2 months. Finally they give me a 30 day leave and I come home. I went back. They sent me to Florida as an instructor at gunnery school down there. I stayed down there til I finished that and I was transferred to Charlotte as an instructor and I was training new pilots and gunners, you know. When we cracked up I had to bail out and I broke my leg. That ended my flying career. Went into the photo lab. They put me in the photo lab and I was developing gun camera films and stuff, which is very interesting.

B: And why is it interesting?

S: Well, you got to see the fighter kills and things and fighters. While I was there I met my wife.

B: How'd that happen?

S: Well, I just went to a USO show one night and I met this girl.

B: And what was your first impression of her?

S: I don't know what my first impression was, but we kind of hit it off right off the bat. So I met her people, every night or two... We only went together 5 months and a few days and we got married. It's lasted pretty good. We celebrated our 60th wedding anniversary this past August. I guess it'll last.

B: (laughs) I guess so! I can't believe you don't remember more about meeting her.

S: Well, I don't remember a great deal. She must've been a pretty good looking girl, or I wouldn't have had nothing to do with her.

B: Nana, pull up a seat next to Papa. He's having difficulties remembering how you two met.

F: I'll tell you the whole story in just a minute. Can I... Are you on?

B: Well...(motions to the camera)

F: How we met? Well, we went to a dance at the auditorium in Charlotte for the soldiers. I belonged to the Victory Belles and we used to go and there'd be three or four thousand boys and a thousand girls and the load was getting bigger all the time because more were going overseas.

So this night, my girlfriend and I, Carolyn Pearson, were there and she saw this guy coming in and she says, "Ooh, I know him! That's Bill So-an-so!" And I said, "Well, who's the guy with him?" And she said, "I don't know." And I said, "Well, we have to go introduce ourselves anyhow," so we went over over and she saw Bill and he introduced us to Sam and this other guy. And this other guy was saying, "Sam give me the keys to your car. I want to go home. I mean I want to go out to your car and sit and listen to the radio. I don't want to be in here." So he says, "Ok." Sam gave him the keys. And Carolyn... the music was playing and we always went right into it...and so Carolyn says, "Oh, we're going to go dance," so they went off to dance and Sam stood there and stood there and finally he said, "Would you like to go over and sit down?" And I said "sure" because we did anything to make them feel comfortable and at home. And so we went over and...

B: Well, did you know that they were returning?

F: No, we didn't know anything about them.

So we went over and sat down and he started looking through... picked up a Life magazine, and he started turning through it. And I was sitting on the couch beside him and I thought, "Oh dear, the piece is starting, and he's still not dancng." But I sat there patiently, because that's what we were supposed to do. And finally he turned to a picture and said, "That looks just like my mother!" And I said, "I don't know. I don't know your mother! He said, "Oh."

And so music started again another song and he said, "Oh, would you like to dance?" And I got up real quick and walked onto the floor and I said, "That's my usual reason for coming here!" So he followed me out on the dance floor.

Well, normally, you got... We'd do the jitterbug and all that, and you'd turn here and a boy would get us and we'd turn here and a boy would get us and we'd turn here and another guy would get us because there were so many boys and not enough girls, but the group was going overseas now and there was not as many men as there were. Maybe two thousand to one thouand. Anyhow, that night, for some unknown reason, nobody broke in on us all night long. And so we danced. And then he says, "Well, I can't fast dance," and I said, "That's alright. I'm getting over rheumatic fever anyway, and I don't need to be dancing that fast anyhow."

And we danced a couple of dances and he said, "Oh, would you like to sit down?" And I said "sure." So we went over and sat down in a chair. We were sitting side by side in two chairs that time and he put his arm up on the chair and he says, "Put your hand on mine." And I said, "Ok," and I did just like that and you could feel him relaxing all over. And in the course of the conversation as it went on, he said um... no I said something about what he was doing, where he'd been, and so forth, and he said... Don't cry.

S: (tearing up) I'm not.

F: (laughs) And he said he's already been overseas and he'd already flown 25 missions and he was in the first outfit that went over there and that he was back. And he's been in um... Atlantic City, NJ for rest and relaxations, for trying to get calmed down, I guess, when they went up there. Anyhow, and then he said they asked him what field he wanted to go to, he said Morris Field because that was the closest to his home, 'cause he was from Gerton, NC. I said, "Oh, well that's good, so you're stationed here." And he said, "yeah."

Well, the evening went on and we danced more and then finally it was time to go home and he said, "Well, can I take you home?" And I said, " Oh, I don't know. We don't normally go out with any soldiers. We don't normally get in anybody's car with anybody." And he said, "Oh, it'll be alright. I promise you." I said, "Well, Carolyn, go with me. I was going to her house to spend the night anyhow, but I have to go by mine." And he said okay. So his buddy I think went with us and we went on out. And I don't even remember if the other guy was in the car with us or not. I can't even remember that now, but anyhow, we went went over by the house. And Daddy said... I went in real quick. They didn't go in... and Daddy said, "How did you get here?" and I told them. He said (gasps), "You call us the minute you get to Carolyn's." And I said "Okay. I promise. But he's different... I don't... I think he's alright. He's different."

So we went to Carolyn's and then the next day... he had told me that night he'd like to take us out... and so the next day, he came and we got... he came in his car from Carolyn's and he picked us up after we'd gone from...

B: Was it his car?

F: It was his car. He'd left it up here in Gerton all the time he was overseas and when he come back of course he wanted a car down in Charlotte...

B: Now, wait a minute. How did he have a car? I thought not many people had cars back then.

F: Well, they didn't, but he worked. He had a job and I think this was a... I don't know what model it was.

S: '38 Chevrolet

F: '38 Chevrolet! I remember it was a Chevrolet. And it was a Chevrolet. Nobody had used it much at all, I don't think, while he was gone. It was his.

And so, anyhow, we went, of all places, we went down to Matthews, NC. But first, he brought a guy so that I would have somebody with me. I said, "Well, you'll have to being a dste for Carolyn." And he brought this guy that looked as old as he does now. I guess he might've been forty, but he was grey-headed and heavy and all. Carolyn...

S: Aw...he wasn't that old.

F: To me he was. And Carolyn was even younger looking than I was and well, anyhow, a different type, and so...um... she looked at him and I said, "Carolyn, you've got to go with me anyhow! I can't go by myself!" And she said okay. They had absolutely nothing in common.

But we drove down to Matthews, NC, which was another little country town, below Charlotte. Which now, if you got to Charlotte, you don't know when you've left Charlotte and gone to Matthews. It's grown up so much everywhere.

But anyhow, we had an ice cream cone. They went in and got them and brought them out and we sat across the street in the car and ate ice cream cones and then we come back to Charlotte. And then, I don't know what we did. I guess we took them home and then come back to the house. And then, well, he said, "Can I see you again?" And I said, "Well, sometime. You can call me."

And then it got so after that my daddy liked him. My mama liked him okay... she's fine as long as I wasn't serious or anything. She didn't want me to get married to anybody. But anyhow...

B: I thought you'd already been engaged once.

F: Oh well, I was verbally engaged to Jimmy O'Neal. He was the chief accountant at Hersh (?) Manufacturing Co. So I... and still I wrote about 50 soldiers all the time. But Jimmy and I were good friends, but I really didn't love Jimmy. He was a good friend. He loved me, but I didn't love him. I liked him real well. He was a nice guy.

Anyhow, then let's see... he (Sam) would call and I was still dating other guys, going to the dances, and so forth. But Daddy got to liking him and then he'd call, and he'd call just before dinner, and I think he made it a habit after that, because he'd call and Daddy would say, "Is that Sam?" I'd say yeah and he'd say, "Let me talk to him a minute."

(mimics phone call) "Hey Sam, have you had dinner yet? Oh, good. We'll be eating in a few minutes, so c'mon over!" And he'd hang up.

And I'd say, "Daddy! I was going to wash my hair or I wanted to go somewhere or I wanted to do something!" But he always did that to me--every time Sam would call! So Sam knew to call at dinner from then on.

B: Well, we know someone's a little food oriented, anyway...

F: Oh yes! (laughs with Sam) And that was good homemade food.

Anyhow, in, oh I guess it was May... That was March I met him... In May, he asked me to marry him and um I said well...I don't... We planned on June the next year. And I said, "Well, you'll have to ask Daddy." And so he went in and I said, we're going home, and he said, "Okay, I'll ask him." And I said, "Hey, he's on the screened porch there. Just go on over and sit down and talk to him. I'll go back to the kitchen and tell Mama what's happening."

And I went back to the kitchen and I said, "Sam's going to ask Daddy if I can marry him." And she said, "humpf!" She just knew he'd say no, cause he worshipped me and he wouldn't think anyone was good enough for me.

And then in a few minutes, Sam came in and put him arm around me and said... smiled... and I said, "What'd he say?" And he said, "He wanted to know what in hell we wanted to wait for next June! He might have to go back overseas again!" And I said, "Oh Sam!"

So we didn't plan to get married right then in June, but we did get married then August the 30th, so it was like 5 months and 5 days we were married. And we've been happy ever since, haven't we?

S: (smiles) That's what they tell us.

F: Oh goodness. You should have dressed up for your picture.

S: Oh, I think I'm pretty well dressed up. I'm warm anyway...

F: And then life begins... Ok. Cut me off.

B: Alright. I'll go back to Papa.

Interview With My Grandfather - Part 1

My grandfather, Samuel Percy Maxwell, was born in 1919 and died in January 2005. Several months before he died, I sat down with him one weekend and got about 8 hours of videotaped interviews with him. I have no idea why it took me so long to transcribe his interview--but lately, I've felt a real urgency to preserve his words and get them out into the internet, where hopefully they will live on forever, and be there for my boys regardless of what might happen to the hard copies between now and then. With Hurricane Sandy bearing down on us today, I thought this might be a good project to keep me busy.

Some of this interview probably won't be interesting to anyone outside of my family. But some of it (the part near the end) has real historic significance, since he was a right waist gunner on a B-17 during WW2. He belonged to the 303rd bomb group, stationed in Molesworth, England, and as one of the first B-17 crew members, he has some amazing stories to tell. As you read through the interview, you'll notice I interrupt him to ask of lot of questions that might seem pretty stupid or self-explanatory. But I did it with thoughts toward the future, when what might seem commonplace or self-explanatory to us now fails to make sense anymore. And sometimes I just truly had no idea what he was talking about, and I figured I  couldn't be the only one. :-)

For simplicity's sake, when I'm talking I will write B. When he is talking, I will write S. Since my grandfather was born and raised in Western NC, I also left his natural speech mannerisms intact and quoted him verbatim.

Enjoy!

B: Well, first of all, tell me all about growing up, and your name, and who you were named after, and all that stuff.

S: I was named after my father, Samuel David, and a World War 1 buddy of Uncle Jack Wall's...

B: And that was the Percy?

S: That's where the Percy come in. Bert Percy was his name. And I grew up in Hendersonville. Gerton. Asheville. Went in the service March 1942.

B: What did you do before you went in the service?

S: I was a carpenter. Worked at Fort Bragg building army barracks for soldiers. I worked for my uncles, W.R. Floyd Wall. They were contractors. And I was a carpenter for them.

B: What sort of things did you build?

S: Built houses.

B: Are any of them still up?

S: I imagine they are. They were pretty good houses.

B: And who were some of the people that bought those houses?

S: Well, I don't know. But you could build a nice house for $4-5,000 then.

B: And what is your definition of a nice house?

S: Well, brick, and 5, 6 rooms 2 baths. I went away to work on defense work when the war started and I worked there until the draft come pretty close to me. So I volunteered and went into the Air Force.

B: Why'd you decide to go into the Air Force?

S: Well, I liked the Air Force because it was clean, and I didn't want to work in the infantry so... I wanted to fly... so I volunteered. And I got to go in the air force. I spent 3 years, 5 months, 19 days in there. Completed 25 missions over Germany. And got to come home in May of 19, no I finished combat in May of '43 and I got to come home in Sept of '43. Made an instructor.

B: Let's back up a little bit. What happened when you left NC? Where did you travel to? Where was basic training?

S: I went to Fort Bragg. From there I went to Shepherd Field.

B: And where's that?

S: In Texas. From Shepherd Field Texas I went to Harligen Texas to gunnery school. And when I finished gunnery school, I went to Boise Idaho and joined the 303rd Bomb Group.

B: And what was your training? What did that consist of?

S: Well, we had 11 hours of training inan AT6.

B: What's that?

S: A training plane that was shooting at tow targets. And we shot at...

B: What are tow targets?

S: It was a big sleeve pulled by another plane. And it made passes and we would shoot at it as it went by.

B: How'd you keep from hitting the plane?

S: Well, it had a long cable 2-300 yds with rope.

B: Oh, okay.

S: It flew out back of the plane and you shot at it.

B: Well, tell me about your crew, 'cause you met them there, right?

S: Well, there was 10 men on a crew.

B: And tell me your first impression of these people.

S: We had a real good pilot. Name's Oxrider.

B: Where was he from?

S: He was from Dayton, Ohio. I think he was a medical student. And he was a good pilot. After 20 missions, they made him a squadrom commander and sent him back to the states. And he brought another group over and got killed. I don't know the date, but then we got a new pilot.

B: Well, what kind of personality did he have?

S: I don't know. He was a pretty likeable person. He was a big fellow. 6'6 I think. Pretty heavyset. But we had a co-pilot named Hurlbert. He got killed in... He made his missions but got killed in Florida in a plane crash on take off.

B: And what kind of personality did he have?

S: He was a real quiet person. I didn't get to know him too well. We didn't sleep in the same barracks. Didn't have much to do with them-only when we were flying.

B: Because they were officers?

S: Yeah. We wasn't around them much. See, they lived in different parts of the base. And the only time we saw them was when we flew.

B: What about the other guys?\

S: Well, we had siz enlisted men on the crew. One that I was real fond of was Everett Dasher. He slept beside me through the war. We  kept in touch all up until he passed away just this past year.

B: What was his position?

S: He was the radio operator.

B: What was his personality like?

S: He was real quiet. Real good fellow. We called him Mother. He looked after us. He was real religious. In fact, he became a lutheran minister after we got out of service. And then they was Heaps. Waist gunner. He was a drunkard. He stayed drunk about half the time. Ziemer was the top turret gunner. He was a teetotaler. He didn't drink. I didn't drink.

B: At all? Ever?

S: No. We didn't drink.There was Sadler, the tail gunner. He didn't drink.

B: The ball turret?

S: The ball turret was Smitty. He was a little fellow. It took a small man about 5'5 or less to get in the ball turret.

B: What kind of personality did he have?

S: He was a real jolly little boy. I didn't know a great deal about his background or anything but we all got along good together. We went on liberty together.

B: What was it like being with all these guys on these missions?

S: Well, we all stuck together. We had a good crew.

B: And do you think having a good crew made any difference?

S: Oh yes. We trained together and I think it made a big difference in combat. Corresponded with each other by intercom. We made all our missions together. We all got through.

B: Can you think of any examples of crews that did not get along well with each other that led to their downfall?

S: Well, I don't know. I think most crews got along good together. Some of the pilots were better than others. We were just fortunate. We had a good pilot. Just like a driver in a car you could tell a good driver or a good pilot.

B: What made a good pilot?

S: One that could fly good formation and one that made good easy landings. I don't know. You could just tell.

B: What difference would your pilot make in a lot of flak or during bombs or fire?

S: The pilot - a good pilot - could take evasive actions. Stuff where he kind of dodged the flak. But we had to stay in pretty close formation there.

B: Could you communicate - like backseat drivers and tell the pilot that, you know, there's somebody back there. Watch out.

S: Oh yeah. We talked to... we was on intercom and we looked out for fighters and we could see fighters coming and we'd say fighters at 3 o'clock high or 12 o'clock high or 6 o'clock low or something. We corresponded. Everybody was looking for fighters.

B: Could you help other planes too?

S: Oh yeah. We flew in formation.

B: Right. But was there anything you could do with your gigantic plane to help the other planes if...

S: No. Just by flying in close formation. The guns of one plane could protect the other ones and we could... We used to fly in a V formation...

B: Like geese?

S: And that way the guns couldn't come to bear. So we started flying in a box formation. One plane above the other and then the guns from one plane could protect the others. That turned out to be a good formation and we used that during most the war.

B: What would happen in, like, Memphis Belle (the movie) when one plane was shot down and it would crash into the plane beneath it? Could your pilot evade something like that?

S: We had an incident similar to that. We flew into a cloud bank and it was real dark and one of the pilots up in the front lost his nerve and broke formation and come right over the top of my plane and cut the plane in two on my left wing. Seventeen men were killed. And three men found thereselves floating in midair and pulled their ripcords and were saved. They fell out of the plane when it was cut in two.

B: What happened to them?

S: Well, 17 of them died.

B: But the 3 that survived. Where did this happen?

S: It happened over England. I reckon... I don't know what happened to them. They survived. I know they buried all the 17 in a mass grave. Other than that, the only incident that I ever seen where, other than when we were shot, was when we were climbing to altitude, circling the game to get altitude before our bombing mission and the plane that was cut in two was called Twin Beauts. It was the first mission it had been on. A new plane. But I don't know what the plane was that hit it. But I know it just missed us. Come right over the top of our plane, hit the plane on my left wing.

B: And you saw it happen?

S: I was looking right at it. Saw the B-17 that was cut in two went straight up. 100 ft just climbing up and then it fell back. Our pilot dived down a little bit. Got out of the clouds and I could see the two planes on the ground burning.

B: How do you get over something like that?

S: Well, you kind of learn to live with stuff like that. You saw a lot of your buddies get killed. You saw a lot of planes go down. But you, you just kind of figured, well, they'll get me tomorrow. You just live with it.

B: Did you ever see a plane crash that you didn't think anyone could survive and find out later there were lots of survivors?

S: Well, I saw them crack up on the ground and some of them survive. The main thing I saw was them get shot in the air and see nobody get out and find out that somebody did survive.

B: What about your buddy that bailed out over France? Didn't he hit the subway or the train station or something?

S: Oh yes. He fell 20,000 feet without a parachute. Went through the skylight of the railroad station in St. Lazare and lived. His name was Allen McGee, but he died this past December. He lived out in New Mexico.

B: And what happened to him? I mean, did he have many broken bones?

S: He was the ball turret gunner. And his plane blew up. He couldn't get to his parachute. There wasn't room in a ball turret to wear your parachute and he got out of the thing but the  the plane blew up or something but he didn't get his parachute. He just fell through space. And all he suffered was a broken arm and some lacerations. Went through the glass dome of the railroad station and it broke his fall and he survived.

B: What about your big plane crash in England? What happened that day?

S: Well, we were shot down. We had 3 engines shot out. We'd been to Lorient, France and flak knocked out one of our engines, so we couldn't stay in formation. German fighters jumped us, shot out a couple more engines. We finally made it back to England and had fallen about...

B: Well, what happened though? There was more to it than that.

S: Well, we lost 3 engines and we were falling and we throwed our guns overboard, throwed everything that was lose. So we corssed the English Channel, well we started jumping.

B: Why was it so important to get across the channel?

S: Well, you didn't want to be a prisoner of war.

B: And what would happen if you were captured?

S: Well, you'd be a prisoner of war for the rest of the war.

B: And what sort of things had you heard about what that was like?

S: Well, I hadn't heard a great deal about it, but I just figured, you know, you'd be in confinement, no food, no warm place to sleep, or something like that. Just wasn't a good idea to be a prisoner. So we jumped over England and the pilot landed the plane in a cabbage patch.

B: Well, what did he have to do that?

S: He didn't have a parachute.

B: What had happened to his parachute?

S: Well they said in the commotion it got kicked out or throwed out or something. Anyhow, he didn't have one. So he landed the plane.

B: What happened when he tried to land? The first time?

S: Well, he was going to land in a soccer field, children come running out of the school and stuff and he raised the plane up and set it down in a cabbage patch. Stopped rolling about 30 ft from a row of trees. The Army engineers said if the Air Force can get it in there, we'll get in out. So they built a 2500 foot runway and put 4 new engines  on the plane abd a new right wing tip and flew it out. And then it became a training plane. And we got back to the base about 3 days later and they give us a new plane and we named it Yankee Doddle Dandy. (* You can read a more comprehensive account of this story here http://www.303rdbg.com/c-358-oxrider.html )

B: And what was the first one called?

S: Werewolf.

B: And what happened to all of you who bailed out?

S: Everybody made it. I think the navigator got some broke ribs. But all I done was lost my shoes.

B: Why'd you lose them?

S: When my shoot opened it snapped them off my feet. That was in January and it was cold.

B: Who found you?

S: I walked into this little town and on the way I was met by 3 home guards.

B: And what were they like?

S: They were just 3 old men, that were coming to look. Thought we was German paratroopers landing. One of them had a, only one of them I think had a gun - had a shot gun. I told them I was an American and I needed help. Took me into this little town called Newton Abbott. My hands were burned, I didn't have any shoes, my feet were froze, cold. So they took me to the doctor. Doctored my hands, soaked my feet in water, massaged my feet, give me a pair of #6 tennis shoes. It was all they had.

B: And you wear what? An 11?

S: I wear a 10 or 11. And I stretched them on over my feet. Continued on and I met up with my tail gunner. He had on two pair of shoes. Had on what they call a... these big old leather sheepskin lined boots that you put on overtop of your boots. He give me those and I put them on. My feet flopped around in those. I had on an electrically heated suit. It was so hot I couldn't hardly walk, so I, we found the navigator and he had on two pair of britches. He had on a pair of coveralls and a pair of GI pants, so he give me his coveralls, and I put those on, til finaly we got to a British fighter base. We spent the night there and a day or two later we got arrangements to get back to base and they put us on a train and we got back to Molesworth.

B: Were they excited to see you?

S: Aw, yeah. All our clothes had been confiscated and all our personal belongings. But as soon as we got back they started returning. (laughs) Whenever a crew would go down, they'd come in and strip the beds and take all their personal belongings to the supply room. We would generally go through their stuff before they got there and if there was anything we wanted, we would take it.

B: And what if there was anything in there that would have been embarrassing if it got sent home?

S: Well, I don't know about that. I know that the boys that got killed in that plane crash, one of the boys got drunk on the liquor some of them had left in their things and fell in the grave when they... He was a flag bearer. He fell in in the grave and they had to get him out before they put the caskets in there. He said he wasn't drunk, but he was. He's quite a character. (laughs)

Judgements

This won't be my typical blog. Usually I'm all sunshine and light, with silly stories about somebody's misadventures. But not today. Something has been stuck in my craw for a while now, and after trying to digest it for over a month, I think the whole topic deserves its own blog.

I went back down south this summer, time spent mostly in North Carolina. And although it was a good trip, after two years in New York, it just wasn't the soul-refreshing homecoming I was looking for.

For two years, I've lived in Upstate New York, where generally the attitude is one of relaxed acceptance for everybody. I'm not saying we all link hands and sing kumbayah with strangers, but here, I've found, as long as you're a decent human being, no one really gives a whoopie doo if you're protestant/catholic/muslim/hindu/white/brown/black/sunburned/Republican/Democrat/Libertarian/gay/straight/gay/bisexual/(insert your own label here). I've really been spoiled here, I think.

So I tootled on down to NC without a care in my head, all sunshine and light, just wanting my sweet tea, my biscuits, and my fried chicken, all served with a bit of ya'll and you'uns. Which is how I ended up at a Bojangles in Shelby, NC.

Many people have never heard of Shelby, NC, because it is a tiny, insignificant speck of a place, situated somewhere between Asheville and Charlotte. It's farming county. Rural. Pretty. Full of nice, ordinary people. The sort of place you think of if you ever think of boring, run-of-the-mill, southern towns.

So I'm in Bojangles, third in line.

The first people in line are a black family. A woman, a man, and two children-a boy and a girl. The girl was quietly standing there, and I honestly didn't pay her any attention, because it was the little boy who drew my interest. He looked to be four or five, and reminded me immediately of John. He had this plastic snake and was running around, telling me and everyone else in line that it was going to bite us. We were endulging him and playing along. He was a nice kid. High-spirited and happy.

In front of me was an elderly white lady, dressed head to toe in pink. She had big fluffy Southern old lady hair, and in all that pink, she looked like cotton candy and just as sweet. She was the sort of woman you loook at and just know that she's got a pie baking somewhere, and has fifteen grandchildren that all call her Meemaw, and has a big laugh and an equally big heart. Or at least that was the conclusion I drew after staring at the back of her Southern Lady separates for five minutes.

And then there was me. Southern girl, living in the North, about to go visit my best friend from college that I hadn't seen in over a year. Excited about my upcoming girls' weekend, thrilled to have left my boys in Asheville, and wondering whether I should get a bacon egg and cheese biscuit or stick to sausage. Well that, and survive a snakebite.

Finally I'm up to the front of the line. I order my biscuit (went with chicken, for a change), and then take my tray to the drink station to get my tea. Pink Lady is standing there too, and when she sees me, she sidles over to me and indicating the black family that has just taken their meal to go, half-sneers, "You think they was man and wife?"

I couldn't understand her heavy southern accent and said, "What?"

And she repeated, vitriolic, "You think they was man and wife?"

I do not do well with ugliness and confrontation, or racism and stupidity. Maybe if I had had an hour to compose a well thought out response, I could have come up with something better than, "I don't know." Which, as far as responses go, pretty much sucks. In my defense, I did add a Northern, "What the f--- do I care" tone to my "I don't know". But it wasn't enough.

What I should've said to Pink Lady, and what I'm saying now is this:

In a world of 7 billion people or so, where there are wars going on, millions dying of preventable diseases, polar ice caps melting, horrific natural disasters, poverty and starvation on a scale you can't even wrap your head around, rape, genocide, and mass-murdering serial killers, you are in Shelby, North Carolina, where, for the most part, life is pretty idyllic. And here you are, an older woman, on the tail end of the approximately 2,366,769,450 seconds you've been alotted to experience your life, wasting precious seconds getting bent out of shape about the domestic relationship of two individuals you will most likely never cross paths with again. For one thing, it's none of your business. And for another, in the grand scheme of things, what a trivial thing to get bent out of shape about. Those people were just minding their own business, trying to order some biscuits and gravy. And the whole time you've been playing with their son, and smiling at them, and I was imagining you in the best possible light, you've been standing there judging them!  And not just judging them, but stereotyping them in the worst possible way!

You know what, at least the dad was there! Have you thought about that? And at least the family was together! Doesn't THAT matter to you? Because let me tell you from experience, my dad and mom *were* "man and wife", briefly anyway, and that didn't prevent him from throwing me across the room into my crib like a football or making me stand in the corner of the room with my nose pressed into the crack when he wanted me out of the way. And no! I wasn't even being punished for anything. He just didn't want me around! And it didn't prevent him from abandoning me when I was two, never to be seen  again. But I guess that's ok with you, because my parents were white, and married. Or maybe it's not. Maybe you're judging me too. I don't really care right now. I'm not going to waste another second on you, you bitter, unenlightened harpy.

Oh, I'm judging you?

Well, that's the thing about judging someone. You can't always be right.

On The Move

Do you ever have one of those moments where you see someone doing something you used to do and have a dim fleeting memory of doing it yourself--but the memory seems oddly foreign to you. That was the sensation I felt while reading a friend's blog today. I had a dim shot of awareness, like, "Hey, I used to do that..." and then I came on here, prepared to write something, and just looked at the blank page and the blinking cursor with something akin to panic. I have nothing to write about.

Well, that's not entirely true. I mean, if someone were to hypothetically put a gun to my head and order me to write a blog on the spot, I'm sure I could think of something. But that being said, no one is pointing a gun at my head, and I'm just not driven to write anything of my own volition.

But since I'm here, I guess I can tell you about my latest project (I know, I know, I always have a project, or a diet, or a plan, or a thought and 9 times out of 10 it gets abandoned in favor of another project, diet, plan, thought, etc.) But this plan isn't new. It's actually a re-visitation.

Once again, I have started a Couch to 5K program. Only this time, I'm not going at it all loosy-goosey. Before I started, I went to Fleet Feet and made sure I had the proper insole and the proper footwear. Then I researched online why I have uncontrollable itching when I run and what I could do about it (antihistimines 30 minutes before I run). I'm using a real Couch to 5K program, and training with Kira, who also runs. I run (or have run this week, at least) religiously 3x a week.And I like it. One week down, 8 weeks to go...

I was expecting it to be hard, and I was expecting to fall into an exhausted/sore/begraggled heap after every 1 min run, but it was actually pretty easy. Maybe this coming week and the 90 min runs will kill me, but I'm hoping I surprise myself, and find that running isn't the miserable ordeal for me that it once was.

I couldn't quite give up on the idea of me running a 5K, and now I have new goals. I want to do the Albany Color Me Rad 5K in July. I've always been drawn to the unusual, so of course I want to do the (whimsical? masochistic?) race where every half mile or so I'm pelted with colored cornstarch. And after that, I want to do a Halloween race (in costume of course), a Thanksgiving turkey trot, and a Christmas Jingle Bell run--all those things that seemed so out of reach before.

But my major MAJOR goal is to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon next February. In a tiara and a tutu, because, and here's my dirty little secret- I love this sort of thing.

Before I started selling thirty-one, I was just a utilitarian kind of girl. I told myself that all the frouf and frills, and the matchy-matchy monogrammed stuff was a stupid, pointless endulgence--up there with mani-pedis, blow outs, flat iron-smooth hair, and grosgrain-bow bedecked flipflops,  all nightmarish layers in my own personal Southern Belle Hell. I wanted none of it. I made it my mission in life to avoid looking cute at all costs.

But then something happened when I started dressing to complement my new cute bags. I don't know exactly what it did to my head, but at some point I realized that resistence was futile. Something about having 97 different bags was good for my soul. Cute shoes, embellished tank tops, and sparkly necklaces started to make me exceedingly happy. So when I heard that there was a tiara medal to be won if I ran 9 miles through Disney World, well I didn't care if that was 9 miles barefoot across hot coals, I wanted it. No, not wanted... coveted. That tiara is mine.

I didn't know I wanted to be a Princess, but I do. And I'm going to be the kind that runs half marathons.

Life Is Not A Wish Granting Factory... But I Still Wish It Was

I went to my first ever school board meeting tonight. Thanks to our crappy economy, every school district in the area is being asked to do more with less, and after eliminating all the less-painful items in the budget, our school board is being asked to make some really painful choices. Up for debate: things like kindergarten, AP and Honors classes, school librarians and social workers, vocational classes, etc. I can't imagine what a school without any of those things would look like and it makes my heart hurt for my children to think they will have to do without some of the best things about school.

I've been reading a lot lately, instead of doing any number of more productive things. My latest, and most favorite book, is The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. As I'm left to ponder the state of my children's education, two quotes of John Green's keep rising to the surface of my mind.

Pain demands to be felt.

Life is not a wish-granting factory.

I know that I (and my children) actually have it a lot better than other people out there. We have free public education, which gives us the opportunity to work hard and achieve something meaningful in life. But I still can't help wanting more for myself, for my boys, for the world at large. Tom and I were both lucky to have come from school districts that were large and well-funded, that provided us every imaginable opportunity--so many opportunties, in fact, that it wasn't possible to take advantage of them all. It is with a sick, sinking feeling that I realize that opportunity is going to be in short supply for the near term, and that in order to succeed, my boys won't be allowed to have the luxury of a lacksidasical approach to those opportunities. They're going to have to be able to spot them, fight for them, and then after that, fight to keep them.

Sure, I can imagine a wonderful world where my children have unlimited choices, but  Life is not a wish-granting factory. Some things are out of human control. Sometimes there is no happy ending. Translated into the kindergarten vernacular, you get what you get and you don't get upset.

But of course you do, because it's a painful realization, and as John Green also points out  pain demands to be felt.

You see a lot of pain being felt at the school board meeting. People are rightfully emotional about what they see as a backslide. They know there isn't much to be done. So many of the school board's decisions are forced by a state mandates, that there's no wiggle room, and no opportunity for true out-of-the-box thinking or creativity when it comes to the budget. Everyone is pained by the decisions that have to be made, but the general consensus is that this is a pain that demands to be felt.

In the past I've been the sort of person who doesn't act when someting bothers me, but this is something I feel so strongly about, I want nothing more than to take the bull by the horns and do something. Coordinate a massive community-wide fundraiser, write a check and send it to the school, at this point I'd do anything to prevent the tragedy that is taking place in a district known for its programs, its opportunities, and its forward momentum.

I love this community and one of the things that makes it great is that there is a huge amount of community support for the schools, as well as all the other things that make Scotia-Glenville Scotia-Glenville. I keep waiting for something amazing to happen, an eleventh hour decision that makes everything right and gives us the happy ending we need.

I'll be at the meeting next week, and then the ones after that. I'm hoping that even though life isn't a wish grating factory, Scotia-Glenville is in the business of manufacturing miracles.

Nevermind

...So yesterday, when I said I didn't feel like blogging anymore...

Nevermind.

I'm currently reading (actually listening to a book on tape, but "reading" sounds less clunky) The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, and I seriously think I'm going to lose my mind over this book. I love it, and I feel compelled to go take a long drive somewhere so I can hear/read the rest of it. It follows closely on the heels of The Sisters by Nancy Jensen, Juliet by Anne Fortier, The Food of Love by Anthony Capella, The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton, and Garden Spells by Sarah Addison. I have been reading books like a crack addict takes hits lately--apparently hell bent on figuring out my own personal fatal dose. All this reading is effecting my sleep because I'm either 1) staying up late to finish a book or 2) unable to sleep because I'm thinking about a book. The lack of sleep is effecting my health, because due to a lack of rest, the stupid virus that's been hanging out in my body hasn't been sufficiently eradicated. And that in turn has turned me into a bit of a cranky puss, hanging out in my pajamas, and fantasizing about driving to Minnesota just so I can be put out of my misery and find out what happens to Hazel and Gus for crying out loud.

Why do there have to be so many good books in the universe and why do so many of them have to find their way to me?

This also means that I am going to go on a writing binge next. The snow is melting, the birds are chirping. Soon it will be time to revisit springtime in Bearwallow again...

And that, of course, means more writing. And blogging.

See you soon.

Adventures

I realize I'm long overdue for a blog post, seeing as how it's March and my last post was right around New Years...

But before I get started, I have a confession to make. As much as I think I should write a blog about what I've been doing lately, I can't say that I actually want to. When I realized that I wasn't in the mood to blog anymore, it came as a surprise to me, because, wasn't that supposed to be my thing? I've only been writing in some capacity since the third grade--maybe even before that--and writing, and writing about my life, seemed like such a Brittany thing to do.

But that ship has sailed.

I don't mean for that to sound depressing, or morose, or final, or anything like that. Quite the contrary. I'm not blogging because I can honestly say I'm in what amounts to the happiest period of my life to date. I feel so incredibly lucky to be in this place.

For starters, my boys are finally at an age where they crave a little independence, and I am happy to give it to them. I never wanted to be a doting, hovering mother. Never in my wildest mothering fantasies did I ever want to spend my every waking moment with my children. When I imagined having children, they were older, adding color and vibrancy to the conversation of my life. And after a long, hard, poopy slog through their babyhood and toddler years, I'm finally able to say that I am--just now--getting to be the mom I always wanted to be. Don't get me wrong, I ended up loving the baby and toddler years more than I thought I would. But for me, it's so important to have a life outside of and beyond motherhood, and they're finally at an age where that's possible.

Joining thirty-one turned out to be the best decision I've ever made from a self-satisfaction standpoint. I live with three males, and my world had been reduced to one of trains, planes, and automobiles. I was craving "pretty" in my life, although I didn't realize it, and thirty-one provided that. It also gave me an excuse to go out with and interact with other woman, and that has turned out to be so much fun!
And around the same time thirty-one took off, my book club, that started out as a book club with a bunch of  strangers, turned out to be the nexus for what will quite possibly be long-sustained, decades-long friendships with some of the most wonderfully fun, inspiring women I've ever known. I couldn't be happier about that unexpected turn of events.

Please picture me doing the happy Snoopy dance here.

You really have no idea how blissed out of my mind I am. The years after college were long and lonely as I followed Tom from Asheville to Greenville to Cincinnati and back to Greenville and finally to New York. We were never anyplace long enough to make a ton of friends, since we were always rehabbing a house, or taking care of needy little people, and then on the move again. Finally, (finally!) I feel settled and, more than that even, a part of something bigger than my own introverted little Brittany-verse.

But nobody wants to read that in a blog post. I think about writing my happy little Yeah for my life! missives, but they all just sound so damn perky... think Sally Fields and the whole you-like-me-you-really-like-me debacle. I'm afraid that talking about it (or writing about it) will devalue it somehow, and so I keep my happiness to myself, because I am probably the only person in the world who can fully appreciate it.

But just this once, I will tell you all of the fabulous things going on in my life.

1) I found my half-brother on facebook. I've known about him my entire life, but I'm pretty sure he was unaware of my existence. He seems like a great guy (fortunately for us, we seem to have only gotten the best parts of our father's DNA), and he's a math teacher (oh, that I had inherited those genes). I can't say that I want to meet him or have anything beyond a status-liking relationship with him on facebook. I'm in my mid-thirties, he's in his mid-forties--we're a little old for the whole you're-my-lost-lost-sibling-kumbayah thing. It's enough for me to have found him, and for us to give each other a little wave from the other side--having both experienced our father's loss and disappointment in our lives--and knowing that we turned out okay anyway.

2) I drove the boys, by myself, down to NC over winter break and it was actually a lot of fun. Like I said, I enjoy hanging out with the boys now. We have interesting conversations, and they're at an age where they have the interest in, and the self-control for, going on adventures. Sam especially is very much a Daddy's boy, and it made me happy to have him all to myself for a while, so that I could introduce him to me-things that he might never experience since Tom-things are infinitely cooler to him. We also surprised my grandmother, completely and utterly, with our arrival, and it was one of the highlights of my life to see how thrilled she was to see us. I also took the time to visit cousins and friends that I hadn't seen since Sam was an infant, and it was so nice to see that these relationships never change in spite of time and distance.

3) Which I inadvertantly omitted the first go round and now I'm scrambling to think of something... Actually, I considered writing a blog post on this one, and then decided it was just too sappy, too emotional, too personal a topic to go into here. But what the heck, right? Growing up, I never felt like I fit in anywhere. I did not have a best friend that didn't already have another best friend until I was in 10th grade. I always felt vaguely adrift--never anchored to anyone--and probably made clique-hopping into an art form in high school. I hung out a little bit with everyone, and not a lot with anyone. Left to my own devices, I am the hermityist hermit crab there ever was. I could occupy myself for weeks at a time in the same four walls of my house. Not that I love the idea, but I was an only child, so I can. I have always had friends, some closer to me than others, some longer lasting than others, but because I spent a lot of time moving around from the age of 17 on, so usually my friends lived somewhere I didn't. I got used to it. It started feeling normal. And then we moved to NY and I resigned myself to becoming the uber square peg in a round hole, because if I was the odd duck around my own "people", I was going to be odder still north of the Mason-Dixon line. So what actually happened sort of made my brain explode a little bit. First I met Kira, in the most amazing, kismet-y kind of way. And then I met my neighbor Jen. And then I met the moms at preschool. And the girls in bookclub. And the other kindergarten moms. And the swim lesson moms. And the OM moms. And a funny thing happened. No one made me feel odd or untethered anymore. No one thought my dark, sarcastic sense of humor was off-putting, my world view unusually tenderhearted (or machiavellian, depending on the topic), or my natural reticence unusual. I came to realize that in NY I was a round peg in a round hole. I had found my people. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, my social life EXPLODED. I have so many friends (and I love and am grateful for every single one of you) that I am the living embodiment of the expression "When it rains, it pours." I'm coming to realize (and God, hasn't it taken me awhile?) that the story of me that I've been telling myself my whole life, just isn't true. I'm actually fun to be around, and a lot of people like me. (Even though I still feel a little unsure about writing down the words and uttering them in public...just in case I'm overstating the point.) It's another amazingly lovely realization I've come to recently. And another reason why I never blog anymore. I'm off having coffee, or at a Just Dance party, or not talking about our latest selection at Book Club. I don't have the time anymore because I'm too busy making up for lost time.
4) The Odyssey of the Mind regional tournament was this past weekend, and my Primary team competed for the first time. Anything involving 6 children with an average age of 6 is a dicey proposition. It could have been a trainwreck. But it was amazing! They worked together as a team, and stayed in character. Even when they forgot to set up our device, no one panicked. The device got set up and the whole skit was perfection. I was so proud of them!

That's probably all the happy news you can stand at this point, so I will close here. Until next time...

Happy New Year To You All!

I realize that I haven't been the world's best blogger of late. And I actually feel pretty unapologetic about it. I haven't had anything profound (or even not-so-profound) to write about, so I've spared you a lot of boring posts.

It's 2012 now, and time for resolutions and fresh starts. So what's on my mind this year?

I really only have one resolution, and that's to completely rehaul my diet. Nothing I've tried has worked  in the longterm. Even though I actually do prefer fruit and vegetables to bread, I gravitate to the bread like a fly to...well, you know. Even though I know that there isn't a single healthy thing going on in a piece of cake, it goes straight into my body. My taste buds are an annoying group of hedonists who pay absolutely no attention to the needs and wants of my brain (and stomach). For all the pleasure my mouth derives from food, I can't say the same for my stomach. Everything I eat (and lately, it's been nothing but holiday crap), makes my body feel terrible. I know this, and yet I head straight to the cheese and crackers, the ice cream cake, the cookies, the cocoa, etc. when there's a perfectly lovely container of brussel sprouts and some gleaming yellow grapefruits in the fridge.

I've got heart disease on EVERY branch of my family tree. Obesity on EVERY branch, too. I look in the mirror and hate what I see. I want to eat better. I want to be that person who toodles down to the farmer's market every week, and comes home with bags laden with lovely local produce, that she whips up into amazingly healthy meals for herself. But I'm more likely to be the one rushing into Price Chopper at 5:30 for a pizza because I can't think of anything to cook.

To break the cycle, I feel like I'm going to have to do something really drastic, because no diet I've tried so far as broken my cravings for foods that do my body no benefit.

I recently read two things in Marilu Henner's book The Thirty Day Total Health Makeover that really made an impact on me.

1) The purpose of cow's milk is to turn a 95 lb calf into a 400 lb full-grown cow within a year. Additionally, we are the only species that drinks another species' milk, even though the thought of drinking our own milk (which was actually designed to work with our own digestive system) completely and utterly disgusts us.

2) Marilu Henner said "If you don't make time to be healthy, you'll have to make time to be sick."

Er...Since you put it that way...

So this year, I'm trying something radical. I'm giving up sugar (the white, refined kind), caffeine (which is really easy because my body no longer tolerates it anyway), red meat, and dairy. Red meat and dairy are going to be painfully hard. I foresee lots of misery there. But I'm going to try it and see if my body responds.

And since I learned last year that I really don't much care for poultry, I'm most likely going to move toward some form of pescetarianism. This will be interesting because I'm not a huge fan of most kinds of seafood. I foresee becoming mostly vegetarian as this plays out (although I will always eat whatever I'm served if I'm eating at someone else's home.).

I'm going to be leaning heavily on my already-vegetarian friends this year because it occurred to me that, as much as I love them, I don't know how to prepare vegetables that aren't deep fried or boiled to death. So if anyone has any good vegetarian recipes, send them my way. I'll post a new one on here from time to time and let you know how it's going in my kitchen.

I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do about Tom and the boys as I change my diet. They need to eat too, and I seriously doubt that they'll want to give up what I'm giving up. I lack inspiration. But we'll figure it out.

In any case, I wish all of you a happy and healthy New Year! Here's to a great 2012!

Happy Birthday-Reflection 2011

Even though I technically have another week to go before the end of the year, my birthday always makes me feel reflective. So what better time to tackle 2011's Reflection Questions?


1. What was the single best thing that happened this past year?

Wow. That's a tough one right off the bat. So many good things happened, and since this is my reflection and I make the rules, I'm not sticking to just one. In no particular order, they would be losing weight, getting Ruby, Sam starting Kindergarten/John starting preschool, and joining Book Club.

2. What was the single most challenging thing that happened?

Having to make the decision to put Sammy down. I'm sad about it every day. It was a decision that made our daily life more peaceful, but I loved him and wanted him to get well. And now I really miss him.

3. What was an unexpected joy this past year?

I've begun to reconnect again with my pre-kids feminine self. As I pointed out to Tom, there were many years there that everything I owned-from my bag, to my clothes, to my shoes, to my hair, etc. all had to be ulitarian and kid proof. Now I'm finding that I can dress up again, and can pretty safely assume I won't be leaving the house with not-stained clothes. I can carry a purse instead of a diaper bag. I can wear heels, and have higher maintenence hair. With all the testoterone floating around my house, it's been fun feeling girly again.  

4. What was an unexpected obstacle?

My biggest obstacle to getting anything done is managing the boys' moods. I spend a lot of time helping them navigate their feelings, and trying to keep things on an even keel around here. A lot of the time, I avoid doing activities with them just because I know that it will upset the balance of calm that I've worked so hard to achieve. If I didn't have to worry about their reactions to new situations, we would be out and about a lot more often.

5. Pick three words to describe 2010.

Settled, homey, comfortable.

6. Pick three words your spouse would use to describe your 2010 (don’t ask them; guess based on how you think your spouse sees you).

Cluttered, messy, unpredictable.

7. Pick three words your spouse would use to describe their 2010 (again, without asking).

Challenging, busy, return.

8. What were the best books you read this year?

The book I'm still thinking about months after I read it is The Story of Beautiful Girl by Rachel Simon. I also enjoyed The Art of Racing in the Rain and Midwife of the Blue Ridge.

9. With whom were your most valuable relationships?

Such a hard question! I don't really think you can categorize one relationship as more valuable than another any more than you can categorize one drop of water in a full bucket as more important than another drop.

That said, I was lucky enough to find myself invited to join a book club with a fantastic group of women. They (mostly) live in Glenville and their children all go to a different elementary school. Our paths would never have crossed had it not been for book club bringing us together. And it's not an ordinary book club.  We do have a book selection, that some of us read, but we barely talk about the book. What was supposed to be a two-and-a-half hour long meeting about books, has turned into an into-the-wee-hours laugh fest about anything and everything. In some respects I still barely know these women, but I consider them some of my best and most engaging friendships.
10. What was your biggest personal change from January to December of this past year?

Really, this wasn't a year of many changes, epecially after last year, which was new in every way. I think this year could be categorized as a time when I took on a few things that made absolutely no sense whatsoever just because they brought joy to my life. The first was getting Ruby over the summer. I've been enjoying working with her, doing obedience classes together, and planning her future as an Earth Dog/Therapy Dog. The other thing I did this year was sign up to be a thirty-one consultant, even though I've never given sales any thought at all. I plan to have fun with it and see where it leads.
11. In what way(s) did you grow emotionally?

I learned how to push myself harder. Whether it was writing my novel, or going to the gym and trying a new workout, to asserting myself, and making new friends--I think I lost some of my compacency, some of my I'm-going-to-sit-back-and-see-what-happens mindset. I'm willing to take a few more personal risks, just because it feels good to know I made something happen.


12. In what way(s) did you grow spiritually?

In the fall, I went to a seminar on animal totems, just because New Agey woowoo stuff appeals to me. I found out that two of my most dominate animals are the bear and the snake, which apparently makes me a natural born healer. I'm not sure how much credence I give this, but it certainly changed my perspective about myself and the way I feel about things and interact with others. I often find myself wondering if I'm being as helpful/healing as I could be, and if there's more that I could be doing for others--which, regardless of your spiritual leaning, is a good question to ask yourself.

13. In what way(s) did you grow physically?

I'm physically stronger than I was this time last year, and even though my weight has fluxated up and down (mostly up), I'm still 15 lbs lighter than I was in December 2010. The past year has been a real learning experience for me--figuring out what types of exercise are realistic for my body. I really wanted to run this year, but that didn't work out for me. Instead, I discovered cycling and weight training, which make me feel strong. And Tom and I have started weight traing together as a sort of Saturday morning date, and that makes me feel good too.

14. In what way(s) did you grow in your relationships with others?

In the past, I think I've been too passive and too busy to reach out to my friends. This year I realized the importance of reaching out, just to reconnect and my friendships are better for it.

15. What was the most enjoyable area of managing your home?

Ok, this is going to sound a little crazy, but I'm taken a lot of pleasure in my "kitchen notebook." Instead of having piles of information all over the kitchen, or worse, not being able to find anything because it got thrown away, before school started I bought a binder with clear plastic sleeves, and I put anything I need to be able to find--school info, business cards, menus, etc. in the binder. In the front sleeve I printed out a stack of blank Box Tops sheets, and as I cut Box Tops off things at home, I glue them right to the sheet. When the sheet is full, I send it to school. I also keep notecards in the binder, so it's easy to jot off a quick note to Sam's teacher. I've been very organized about getting things back and forth to school because the system works great!

16. What was your most challenging area of home management?

Saving money is challenging, especially as prices continue to rise and the quality of groceries goes down. I've  discovered that coupons don't really help when you're trying to move away from eating a lot of processed foods. And even though it was certainly inexpensive for Sam to eat school lunch, the food was unhealthy and sending him the wrong message about what he needed to be eating. Feeding my family wholesome, healthy food on a budget is going to be something I continue to work on through 2012.
17. What was your single biggest time waster in your life this past year?

I suppose the politically correct answer is surfing the internet and reading Facebook updates. But I enjoy catching up and hearing about what other people around the world are doing and sometimes it inspires my writing or helps me relax. I think the actual biggest time waster in my life is all the stuff that I do for my family that goes unnoticed and unappreciated or that I do without any benefit to myself. For example, when asked what he thinks I do when he's not around, Sam's response was, "She goes to the store and buys me Cheez-its." I rest my case.

18. What was the best way you used your time this past year?

I did a lot of reading--for research, for pleasure, to the boys at bedtime, and it is always time I consider well spent.

19. What was the biggest thing you learned this past year?

That moving to New York was the best thing I've ever done. There's something about being here--our house--my friends--all my cumulative experiences here--that have colored my life with a rosy sense of satisfaction. I really have nothing to complain about.
20. Create a phrase or statement that describes 2011 for you.

More of the same. And I mean that in a good way. :-)

The Top Secret Christmas Craft For 2011 Revealed!

First of all, I want to state for the record that I did not come up with this genius (and utterly adorable) idea myself. Someone out there is waaaaaay more creative than I'll ever be. But thank God for the internet, where other people show you how to fake it. :-)


So without further ado, here is what we made:

Snow Globe Soap!

I found the idea here at alphamom.com.. The author, Brenda Ponnay, gave great directions, and the boys and I had no problem making the soap (for the most part). Want to avoid making the mistakes we did? Read on.

While I got our materials together and cut the block of glycerin with a knife, I kept Sam busy by letting him grate white Ivory soap (snow) with the cheese grater. As you can see, he was very happy with his job.

John helped supervise the melting of the glycerin in the microwave. It took about 3 minutes to melt the glycerin block. John was less happy with his job. (He wanted to grate snow, too.)


Getting started was easy, so I felt super confident that we would have the most beautiful and perfect snow globe soap ever. And that's when things went downhill...
The next step was to add dye and perfume to the soap. The vanilla scent was great. No problems there. Then I added two drops of blue dye the first batch of glycerin, and it was a little too blue. For the next batch, I only added one drop of blue and it looked much better. Lesson learned. I had gone into this project guns blazing, ready to make perfect soap, but without any soap making experience between the three of us, it became clear to me that what we really needed was a soap-making practice run.

After I poured the glycerin into the ice cube tray (1/3 of a block of glycerin fills half a tray, by the way), the boys added some little reindeer/snowman/gingerbread man buttons to the soap. I made sure that they put the little buttons upside down and facing out, but I didn't pay attention to their positioning, since I believed that the soap would be clear and they would show up well wherever they were. I was wrong. (More about that later...)

Once the toys were inside, Sam added a later of freshly-grated snow, and I poured more melted glycerin on top to seal it. Very quick and easy. Except it was about this point that I realized I'd forgotten to added any soap glitter to the soap (which needed to happen before it went in the ice cube trays). *sigh* Again I reminded myself: practice run.

We put the trays in the freezer to harden for an hour or so, and with the help of a knife, they popped out of the tray very easily. Unfortunately, the soap was not completely clear, and only the buttons we'd placed very close to the outer edge of the "snow globe" showed up well. This was disappointing, because the snow globe effect is much better if you can see the objects inside the soap. Of the 14 snow globes we made, only 2 or 3 turned out well, so we had to make another batch.

Luckily, as crafts go, this one is not expensive. It's not long and involved either, so we whipped out another (perfect) batch in no time.

They turned out really cute, and the boys enjoyed playing with the imperfect soaps in the bathtub.

The Further Adventures Of Patrick December 11th

In case anyone was curious, yes, Patrick does windows!

Here he is on his suspended scaffolding, with his squeegee, paper towels, and Windex. Thanks Patrick!

The boys had a very long and involved discussion this morning about whether 1) it was really safe for Patrick to be sitting like that, suspended in the air. The consensus was no, it really wasn't safe. He was very high... And 2) if it was very kind of Patrick to use one of their blocks without asking. That, too, was deemed unkind...

Something New And Different

It all started with a bag. This bag, to be exact:

Now, I'm exceedingly picky when it comes to my purse. (This is probably why I've used the same black leather Fossil backpack/purse for the last six years). I like to have my hands free, and I don't like purses that just sit there looking practical. My dream purse is either a backpack or a cross-body, and it's got to be a little funky. Not crazy funky. Just funky enough. The kind that's quilted, say, in a nice floral pattern.

So I had one of those "Where have you been all of my life?" moments when I saw this bag. *cue the angelic voices on high*
My friend Stephanie was wearing it at an Odyssey of the Mind meeting. I'd never seen anything like it before, so I said, "I love your bag," having already decided in my head that no matter where or when she said she'd bought it, I was going to move heaven and earth, and ebay if need be, to get one. Imagine my relief when she said, "Oh, thanks. It's a thirty-one bag. Kate (another friend) sells them."

I had  heard of thirty-one before when I lived in South Carolina (otherwise known as The Home of the Cute Purse). But me and my Fossil bag weren't paying attention because we were too busy dodging spit up and lugging diapers around. I made my mind up right then and there that at the very first opportunity (like, the milisecond I saw Kate) I was going get her to order one for me RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

So, perhaps it was fate that that very same evening, there was an email in by inbox from Kate, asking if anyone would like to host a thirty-one party. Well, I had been down that road before and I knew (frugalista that I am) that if I booked a party, there was a good chance I could get my bag at a discount. Heck, I might get it for free. So I wrote Kate back and said, "Sign me up!"

Fast forward to my party. I am southern, after all, so I put out a spread. And being a home party hostess veteran, I fully expected everyone to huddle in the kitchen with the food, socializing, and studiously avoiding the product table until it was time for Kate's presentation. How wrong I was. My friends made a beeline to the purses, totes, thermal bags, and accessories, forgetting about the food, forgetting about the "party", even forgetting about me! (And I'm totally ok with this.) They racked up so many sales that I ended up getting my purse (yeah!), the matching wallet, and two teacher gifts, all for FREE. Do the happy dance with me, people.

So Kate and I were talking afterwards and she said, "You should really be a thirty-one consultant." Automatically I was like, "No thanks. Not for me. I don't do sales."

But like all the niggling little thoughts that eventually become full blown obsessions for me (ie. getting Ruby--and see how well that turned out), I began to think to myself, "Hmmm.... I like everything in the catalog. I would use everything in the catalog. It's fairly affordable. Why not?" So then I called Kate back and said, "Okay, I'm in."

I won't officially enroll until Tuesday, and I already have one order, a party scheduled, and a few more possibly in the works. I can't wait to see where this leads me.

Come next Tuesday, I will post information about my new thirty-one website where you can browse, shop, and book parties (Pretty please! You can get free stuff too!)

But never fear, I'm not going to put the hard sell on you and I'm still going to be writing. I'll just be keeping my laptop and all my writing supplies organized in a really cute bag from now on. :-)

This week I met my goal of writing 35,000 words before Christmas. I'd like to pound out another 5000 words and be at the official halfway point, but since things are moving at an acceptable pace, and I'm doing this all while having lots of Christmastime fun with the boys, I really can't complain. The thing about writing is that it has put my creativity quotient into overdrive, and since I need an outlet for it,  I've been having a RIDICULOUS time with our Elf on the Shelf Patrick lately, letting him go wild with crazy adventures.

Yesterday he baked cupcakes for the boys.

Thursday he had coffee with some friends.

Earlier in the week he was a pirate.

And he got into our beading supplies.

Patrick has some big plans for the rest of this week, so that means I've got work to do! Check back here or on facebook to see what he does next!