The Joy of a Hike in the Woods

This weekend, my family and I visited Umstead Park in Raleigh, NC for a hike off the beaten path. A Carolina blue sky domed the colorful fall trees as the sunlight poked through the small spaces creating dancing streams of light and dust. The air was crisp, like the fallen leaves beneath our feet. Acorns and pine cones littered the ground, inviting Anna, Josh and Sadie to play games only children and dogs can invent with inanimate objects. And the forest enveloped Mom and Dad in a much needed Mother Nature hug. We were disconnected. We were unplugged. We were unbelievably happy.
As we traipsed along the curved path with the tree roots trying to catch our shoes, we felt our neck and shoulder muscles loosen. We felt our breathing become slower and deeper. Our eyes were taking snapshots of beautiful landscapes designed by trees, water and rocks. And we shared our descriptive imagery in whispers instead of shouts and urgent gasps of speech. With each step further into the forest, we were shedding our busy world skin and slipping into the comfortable wardrobe only nature can provide.
Halfway through our hike, nestled at the bottom of a steep incline, we found a flowing stream slipping over rocks and dodging around fallen limbs. The splash and babble found it's way to our children's ears, asking them to visit for a while. So they did. Anna and Josh perched on the flat rocks, knees bent under their arms, bodies staying still, mouths staying quiet and their rhythms syncing to the cadence of the water. Sadie, however, was desperately trying to figure out how to cross the stream and meet a new friend on the other side. Perhaps, this was a good time to return to the path less traveled.
An hour later, we decided to perch on a fallen tree that showed the first signs of decay. We sipped water, nibbled on snacks and giggled about the unshirted runner who careened out of control past us a while back. We were grateful he did not end up literally hugging a tree or rocks or us. And we were grateful for the unexpected belly laugh that brought tears and a shortness of breath. We talked about the pleasantries of our hike, our time together and why we don't do this more often. We laughed at Sadie grabbing our walking sticks and proudly trotting off with her new natural toy. Then our youngest decided we should play a game of A-Z food. After our breather, we headed back the way we came, listing movies A-Z and revisiting our spot by the water. This time we tempted Sadie with sticks, but she still whimpered and paced, longing to be on the other side. Anna and Josh found a jungle gym of rocks, each time going a bit higher and the smile becoming a bit wider. At the very top, a declaration was made, "We should do this every weekend!". We, indeed, had been in a wonderland all afternoon. 
We crossed the stream by way of a green iron bridge perched high among the trees. For a moment, I was jealous of the birds and the squirrels that live in this constant playground every day. The view was spectacular and I noticed my feet were slowing down with each step. Not because I was tired, but because I was not ready to return to our busy life that waited for us at the top of the hill. I was not eager to leave the arms of Mother Nature just yet. 
And evidently, neither was the rest of my pack. Anna and Josh begged to make one more stop by the hill of rocks and Sadie pulled me toward a path that would finally lead her to the "other side". And David, well, he was letting nature call the shots instead of modern time. For the first time in quite a while, we were deliberately living in the moment - not before, not after, but this very instant of time that would slip by us way too quickly. We were listening to the ticks and tocks of the tree branches in the fall wind, the buzzing of insects and the chirps and twerps of the birds above us. Nature had totally trumped electronics and once again, reminded us the best "things" in life are never created by our hands but to be enjoyed by every sense of our being. Nature is an amazing teacher and an amazing healer and a place that yes, we should visit often. As I reflect on yesterday's outing, I remembered a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Adopt the pace of nature. Her secret is patience.". But somehow, I am not too sure we will be all that patient to be among nature once again. Will you?

The Joy of Autumn

"That old September feeling...of summer passing, vacation nearly done, 

obligations gathering, books and football in the air.

 Another fall, another turned page: there was something 

of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning 

as if last year's mistakes and failures 

had been wiped clean by summer."

Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose

I love fall! I love the brazen colors that force you to notice their beauty. I love the sun sliding through the leaves and changing the colors as the rays stretch to the ground. I love the coolness in the air, telling you to grab a sweater as you prepare to leave your house. I love the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet. I love windows open allowing the sounds and smells of such a glorious season to waft through the screens. Curtains, lift and fall, with the cadence of the wind. I love shopping for school clothes and the smell of school supplies that have yet to be sullied by lessons of the day. I love seeing the fuzzy caterpillars scootch across nature's path, silently warning us of a cold winter ahead. I love acorns on the ground. I love the sweet bite of the fall's first apple, it's clear juice running down my chin. I love the anticipation of holidays looming ahead; their arrival bringing undaunted jubilation to family and friends. I love the various shades and sizes of pumpkins and squash decorating road sides, front porches and store entrances. I love the return of football and field hockey. I love the fullness of comfort foods and hearty stews. I love soft corduroys and tall, leather boots. I love layers. I love the smell of outdoors and sweat covering children as they bound into the house after a day of discovery and neighborhood adventure. I love that knowing soon I will hear, see and smell the season's first fire. I love that my daughter and I share a fall birthday. I love to hear children begin chattering about Halloween costumes in great detail. I love the million and one ways to flavor anything with pumpkin. I love seeing the collegiate tshirts color a tailgate gathering like the leaves on the trees. I love watching the steam of my coffee rise and disappear into the chilliness of a morning still removing her night fog covers. I love seeing candy corn adorn cupcakes, snacks, mason jars and goodie bags. I love caramel apples. Actually, I love caramel anything. I love seeing magazine covers that trick me into believing I can transform my house into an autumn sanctuary. And I Iove that every year, I try and quickly realize I cannot and laugh at my sincere attempts. I love apple butter and apple cider and apple pie with a scoop of real vanilla ice cream. I love that there are not enough words to describe my adoration of this season. And I love that each September, my love affair with Indian Summer grows deeper. Ah, fall - you are the joy in my seasonal heart and I thank you for unselfishly sharing your beauty with us.

The Joy of a Tiny Update

Wow - for an unplanned Summer, we have been busy, joyful bees this season. I just want to take a moment to be thankful for Summer break and the privilege of spending this time with our two children. Childhood Summers are incredibly short but usually full of cherished memories that travel with you for the rest of your life. As we soak up the last few days of July 2014, I hope you, your friends and family breathe in the familiar scents of Summer with a little time to kick back and store a few special moments in your summer memory box. Now, if you will excuse me, a hammock, a cold beverage and an unread novel desperately need my attention. Ahhhhh....the joys of Summer - cheers!!!!

The. Joy of a Summer Grader

Our children celebrated the last day of school Thursday, June 12th. The final two weeks of school we did a countdown tabulating how many days left for our Fourth Grader and Kindergartener. The excitement was uncontainable! But our son gently reminded us we were overlooking one important thing. And his observation was BIG! As he was being tucked into bed, we explained to him he only had (x) amount of days as a Kindergartener and then he would be in First Grade! He rolled his big brown eyes up to connect with mine and quietly stated, "Nope. First, I am going to be a Summer Grader!". Once again, this little boy who I sometimes think is off in his own little universe, took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. As I drew him close and sniffed in the scent of a freshly bathed child, I whispered, "Yes, Josh, you will be a Summer Grader." and I thought to myself, this year, we shall all be Summer Graders.
How had I missed this simple idea my whole entire life? We are always finishing one goal and rushing off to start the next goal. Where is the time to reflect? The time to bask in the golden glow of accomplishments? The time to just pass time without a set agenda? To inhale the sweet, seductive, memorable scent of summer that immediately transports you back to a childhood of freedom from homework, books and teachers' dirty looks. We had permission to be lazy. And life was good. I think this year I will be a Summer Grader with Josh and enjoy the slow, melodic rhythm of long days, short nights and a whole bunch of unplanned fun sandwiched in between. 
From the time I was born until my Mom returned to work when I entered the Ninth Grade, summers were an abundance of fun. Now I know I tugged on Mom with complaints of utter boredom, ridiculous heat and muttering words about "stupid chores", but those are tucked way back in the spider webbed closet of my brain. No, what I fondly remember about summer is the reason why I chose a Traditional School Calender for our children. It's the part of your childhood that stays shiny long after the other parts become tarnished, nicked, fuzzy and faded. It's a smell, a song, a food, a movie, a holiday that instantly transports you to a magical place at a slower pace.
Summer to me is:
Flipping my pillow to the cool side
Creating a sheet tent at night with my electric fan
Camping with friends and family
Outdoor movies
Water ballet
Long afternoons at the community pool with school friends
Diving competitions
Passing the deep end swimming test
S'mores
Charring hot dogs on a stick over a crackling fire
Steamed crabs and corn on the cob, both dripping with butter
Sand in every part of my bathing suit
One good wipe out while body surfing
Coppertone
Watermelon and cherry seed spitting contests
Riding my bike everywhere
Flashlight tag
Coca Cola in a green glass bottle
Bottle rockets
Penny candy
Watching the Orioles at Memorial Stadium
Ocean City and Thrashers French Fries with vinegar and salt
Soft ice cream
Carnivals with tummy flipping rides and sweet fried dough
Nickerson State Park
Fresh veggies from our garden
Lilacs
Puddle jumping during rainstorms in my bathing suit
Freshly mowed grass
Dandelion wishes
Little League Baseball
Digging for clams
The taste of sweat
Belly laughing at nothing until my parents said "Shush! Go to sleep!"
The smell of freshly lit charcoal
Severn River and cannon balls off the lifeguard chair
Fireflies in a Mason jar
Whiffle ball games
Run Down
Reading in a tree
Baughers peaches
Fishing
The first sunburn followed by a dark tan
Sunkissed highlights
Plastic folding lawn chairs
Picnic tables
Front porch talks
Cousins
Grandmom and Grandad's side porch
Sun Tea
Homemade fruit pies
Hikes through the Contactin Mountains
Canoe tipping in Piney Run Park
Popsicles
Sleeping in
Baby doll pajamas
Halter tops
Skinned knees
Dirt under my fingernails
The smell of tomato plants in the hot sun
Weeding
Afternoon thunderstorms 

The breezeway
Ice cream trucks
Blisters in between my big toe and first toe from cheap flip flops
Tan lines
Traveling out West
Disney World
Summer crushes
The movie Grease
Sleepovers
Telling secrets while lying in the cool grass
Missing my school friends
Pen pals
Picnics with homemade food
Daydreaming
Beach fire pits
Watching fireworks at the Carroll County Farm Museum
I have many more memories that would fill up oodles of pages but I have to stop babbling. I hope our children become Honor Roll Summer Graders and relish all the delights of unplanned, unexpected summer fun. And I hope in their twilight years, a small smile will flicker across their face as they rock to the rhythm of their childhood summer lullaby. What summer song is calling you? I hope you, too, find joy in being a Summer Grader - after all, it's right up there with recess!

The Joy of Sadie: Part Two

Snoozeville

On June 9th, Sadie will be six months old. I have trouble comprehending that she has only been with us since February 15th because she has had such a positive impact on our household. Me, especially. I do not think I realized how much I was missing a four legged companion until Sadie took over my days. When she first came home, I put everything on hold - volunteering, Bible Study, coffee dates - to care for this pinecone colored fur ball. Like a relationship gone bad, this poor girl came with lots of baggage. I felt like every time we turned a healing corner, I was being called back to the baggage claim for one more thing that comes with a rescue puppy. We survived worms that were trying to suck the life out of her. Urinary tract infections. Upset tummy moments. A non-contagious yet aggressive form of mange that requires a liquid dose of medicine to be squirted down her throat for not weeks....months. But Sadie takes all of these interruptions in stride. Her vet, Dr. Stolz, who loves her to the moon and back, mentioned to Sadie that, "she could just come visit. She doesn't have to keep coming up with new things so she can come see everyone. We would love just a drop in hello!". Sigh. So would our checkbook.

Sadie, the  Big Brown Dog

Walk me or I chew. Your call.

But in between all of these hiccups during our first three months, Sadie has burrowed deep into the heartbeat of our house. She is playful, smart, sassy, belligerent, curious, quick, awkward, sweet, cuddly, beautiful and hilarious. We have watched a round, squished pug nose slowly stretch out to a narrow, box shaped super sniffer. We have watched her stubby, chunky legs grow long and lean to fit into her paws that at times, overwhelmed her running ability, leaving her splayed and dazed on the kitchen floor. We have listened to her pitiful whimper as she unsuccessfully tried to overcome homemade blockades. Those same blockades are now 100% ineffective. And the whimper has transformed into a smart bark that demands quick attention to either, "Outside!" or "Play!". She does not take no for an answer. We have watched a timid puppy dig her paws deep into the ground as we attempted to take her on her first adventure down our street. For weeks we had to carry her down the road until we hit our neighborhood greenway. Then she would happily plod along the half-mile circle. Now she understands "Walk?" and impatiently waits us to gather shoes, leashes and poo bags so she can cover a three mile adventure chasing anything with fur and feathers. We have watched her tap a front paw into a cool creek and then run off in the other direction. Now she wants to chase a tennis ball in Bond Lake, sometimes, fully submerged. She has learned sit, down, stay, ok, kennel, outside, walk, heel and good girl, but these are totally used at her discretion and not on command. Kennel usually entails a huge chase around the house and strategically closed doors and moved furniture so I can grab her by the scruff of her neck and point her in the right direction. Finally, tail up, she prances into her "dog cave" to rest while the house becomes uninhabited for a brief spell.


Mommy's Little Helper

Sending Birthday Greetings

Bond Park

Sadie adores Josh and views him more of an equal than a dog/human relationship. They play Tyrannosaurus Rex versus Triceratops. On more than one occasion, I have walked back out of a room I recently entered because I do not want to become entangled in their Greco style wrestling match. They play hide and seek, chase, and fetch. They rest together and they laugh A LOT together. And they get in trouble together, with eyes sparkling and tongues lolling out of their mouths with an expression that says, "So worth it!". Josh and Sadie are the definition of a boy and his dog. I imagine they will be best buds for years to come, even as the wildness of youth subsides.
Anna and Sadie enjoy walks, gab fests and the battle of wills. I can't hedge a bet on either being victorious, but this will be no quick and easy battle. Anna is a dutiful young caretaker of Sadie. She feeds her, fills her water bowl, takes her outside, tries to teach her tricks and takes her for short walks around the neighborhood. Their relationship is different than Josh and Sadie, but I believe Sadie will provide great relief to Anna during the angst ridden years of Middle School which is only one year in the future. And I think Sadie will happily oblige filling those shoes for her sister.

My co-pilot *

David loves his weekend morning walks with Sadie. He enjoys watching her ears rise and her paw draw up as she spies a creature moving in the leaves above or the pine straw below. He enjoys watching her wrestle other neighborhood dogs or explain to her for the millionth time why some dogs just don't want a paw swiped across their nose. He enjoys the brief training segments and the success of his efforts. He enjoys the natural cadence of their steps, leaving the stress of children, work and home life (aka wife) behind and welcoming the respite of nature to his morning routine. Sadie is David's yoga, a living, breathing Downward Dog.
But for me, Sadie is my healer. This tiny pup that grew slowly in stature and weight has quickly taken over my heart. A loneliness had set up residence in my head and heart with the passing of Mason and Dixon and the exit of Anna and Josh to school full time. Somehow, I was unaware of this new tenant until a quirky, playful puppy came home with us one day in February and immediately ordered this unwanted guest OUT! There was no room for a freeloader named Debbie Downer any longer. Sadie and I now stand at the front door together, sending David and the children off to work and school. We take little road trips to discover new parks, trails and friends. We take long walks. We turn the music up really loud and run around the house, daring each other to tucker out first. We hang out on the couch together and occasionally, I will invite her to keep me company on my bed while I read or watch a program on the iPad. As I look at Sadie now, splayed out like a seal with her head stretching out between her front paws and her back legs stretching out long behind her, I watch her rhythmic breathing and her contented sleep. She has come a long way in her short life. Together, through the harsh winter and late spring, we grew, healed and found our place in the world. With the addition of her into our family, Sadie swiftly reminded us the most important gift we can give or receive is love. And to the person who decided they did not need Sadie, I say "thank you" because she found four people who did - and we are joyful every day for the happiness she pours into our home. Woof!
*please note Sadie does not ride in the front seat of our car - this photo was for website picture purposes only.

Queen Sadie - five months



The Joy of Gardening

We have resided in our house on the hill for one year. With the purchase of our welcoming green house that sits up high on the cul de sac, we gained a beautiful and intimidating garden. With each previous house we have decided to make a home, I have created intricate and breathtaking landscapes in my head. And then reality intervened and well, either I did not have the income or I did not have the dedicated time or realistically, both. But, last April, when we settled into our lovely house in Cary, some of my visions came to fruition. We are now the proud owners of a double decked stone walled garden that constantly blooms. Doesn't that sound divine? Oh. My. Gosh. The weeds. The fertilizing. The pruning. The dead heading and no that does not mean following a Jerry Garcia Band around the country. The splitting of bulbs. The replanting. The mulch. The analyzing. The geometric shapes. Oh, why did I NOT pay attention to high school geometry?!? The realization hits me hard that I am so not a gardener but more someone who needs an income to afford a gardener and then take all the credit. Sigh. Right now, as I sit here typing these words, I am overlooking my beautiful garden in the dim glow of porch lights and a very unnatural computer glow and I have to say, "Job well done today!". The garden, at this very moment, is a sight to behold. And maybe, just maybe, I can do this whole gardening thing.

Our "Dr. Seuss"

Early in the spring we welcomed a bunch of tulips that blazed orange and yellow. The tall dancing flowers called people to look at our constant garden sunset. This week, Irises in various shades of pink, purple and blue purple stand proud and unwavering before their stems give way to the heavy blooms that lead them tragically to the ground. We have a delightful plant I have named Dr. Suess. I have no idea what type of species this beautiful creature belongs to, but she takes all spring to sprout and then she lasts for only two short days. She is tall, slender, whimsical and completely unique. We love her. We have butterfly bushes and trees. We have tiger lilies with baby buds. We have hydrangeas, tea roses and lavender. And we have lots of shrubs that I have yet to identify but add dimension and color to the landscape.
Today I spent a great deal of time in the garden. I have let our garden sit for a season so I can determine what I like, what I do not, what needs to be replanted, what needs to be removed and what needs to be added. The time today was completely therapeutic. The thick, husky scent of overturned dirt that imbedded itself underneath my nails and inside the wrinkled beds of skin on my hands. The sun warming my back and arms while beads of sweat bubbled up on my skin. For a day, I dug up weeds and unwanted plants. I wiped my brow. I stepped back studied the changes. I sketched in my head the possibilities of next year and I became excited. With every pull of a stubborn weed, I claimed new territory and exalted the beauty that God has bestowed in front of me. I am his servant after all, tending his world, his garden. My payment is the beauty that comes from the tending, the tilling, the toiling and the treading. And the simple discoveries. This morning, we found a small turtle taking refuge underneath the leaves of the purple blooming butterfly bush. I watched worms clinging to clumps of sod that came out with the roots of dandelions and other stubborn weeds. Butterflies fluttered and chased one another. Bees buzzed and hovered. Birds swooped. Salamanders scurried. And probably a few things I am glad I missed  that slithered, zipped and popped along.
I have a long way to go with our garden to make it my own. I would like to turn part of the area into a herb garden and maybe add some vegetables. The woman before me raised butterflies so her garden is filled with flowers, bushes and plants that attract those beautiful insects but my heart does not carry the same passion. Instead, I look forward to creating a new landscape for our house on the hill. One that tells the story of us and reminds me that in each of us lies a gardener waiting to joyfully bloom. Until we weed again......



The Joy of Be-YOU-tiful

A little reminder from a be-YOU-tiful group of women.

As the wise Dr. Seuss stated, "Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.". Yet, somehow, we all try to be someone else or be a better "me". We try to be neater. We try to be more stylish. We try to be more organic, healthier, funnier, wittier, Dyno-Mom, Hot Wife and best BFF EVER! We try to save more money than last month. We try to fold the laundry when the dryer buzzer calls us. We find ways to earn money without disturbing the family schedule. We try new recipes made with fresh ingredients served on real plates. We try to best Pinterest, post fun facts to Facebook and tweet itty bitty thoughts on Twitter. We try to diagnose Miley Cyrus and Lindsay Lohan. We bake cookies for playdates and dinners for new Moms because we are trying to be June Cleaver in the 21st Century. We pack lunches, prepare snacks, read books, review homework, attempt Common Core Math problems and sign permission slips. We try to be the most amazing co-worker, boss, manager on the planet. All while smiling prettily because gosh knows someone might be snapping their SmartPhone and pasting an Instagram photo of you with your skirt tucked in your underwear while waiting in line at the grocery store with the caption: "Yeah, this is real, people!". Sigh.
Guess what? You are being exactly who you should be because the world needs you, exactly as you were made. You are somebody's jelly to their peanut butter. You are somebody's tomato sauce to their spaghetti noodle. You are the missing piece to an amazing puzzle. Even on your worst day ever, you are exactly where you need to be cleaning up the messes that perhaps someone else made. Because you are you and you are to be loved, endeared and hugged...a lot.
Back in my career days at a creative event planning agency, we had weekly staff meetings to keep everyone current on what was happening in the office. I have to say, our ladies in charge did a good job of making sure things did not get stale in the board room. But one of my favorite times was when we were each given a blank strip of paper and the following instructions. We were to write our name at the top of the paper and then pass the paper to our left. When the strip of paper came to us with someone's else's name written on top, we were to write down our favorite quality about that person. Fold the paper up so our answer was hidden and pass to the left until our little piece of tightly folded paper slid back in front of us. We were not to open until we returned to our desk. Our agency was small - we had 10-12 full time employees and maybe an intern or two milling around our cubicles. And one male, so imagine the anticipation to move through the meeting quickly. Women have a hard time waiting to open up anything, much less a piece of paper with compliments listed. That was probably our fastest staff meeting in history. Before we adjourned, we were told this paper was not to go home. Not to be shoved in our wallets or purse. Not crumpled up and tossed in a waste can but to find a home in the top drawer of our desk so we could be reminded that even on our worst day, we had special qualities. And that someone thought enough of that unique quality to write it down - just for you.
I will tell you that piece of paper became tattered and worn and sadly, I have no idea where that quality list is hiding on this given day. But, as all of us know, we have our bad days when we feel unloved, unwanted, unforgiven, unknown and undone. Wouldn't it be nice to have a little list to remind us why we are special? Wouldn't it be nice to sit down and look at words that describe you and only you? Wouldn't it be nice to do that for someone you know - just out of the blue? Well, Mother's Day is just a few short days away. And just a fun little gift to think about sending, even if it's through email. We make those to do lists, those grocery lists, those errand lists and blah, blah, blah. Wouldn't it be fun to make a joyful list for someone else? Wouldn't it be fun to feel the joy spread through your heart as you remember all the wonderful things that makes this person "you"-nique? Special enough that their name made a very important list that will never be published for the world, but will be treasured like a first edition work of art. A list that everyone is dying to be on, truly.
As you end your day today, remember you are be-YOU-tiful. You are "YOU-nique". And as I overheard a woman say to her daughter the other day, "No boy should ever ask you to change. You were made special and someone out there will see that specialness and want to treasure you as God intended. You, darlin', are like no one else in this world. Don't ever forget that - ever.". I wanted to hug this Mom and let her know she was making the world a more be-YOU-tiful place. And I can't wait to tell my daughter these exact words - with a joyful heart, of course. So go on, let the be-YOU-tification project begin and remember: "Today you are YOU, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is YOUER than You."

The Joy of Guacamole

The past two weeks, I have been reconnecting with my Texas friends via Facebook and getting a little homesick for all things Spring in Austin. Right now, it's Bluebonnet season and everyone is posting family pictures of their families nestled in the colorful blooms that grow along the roadside. In case you're not from the area, Bluebonnet photographs are a grand Spring tradition and one I kind of miss. People are already headed to Sweet Berry Farm in Marble Falls to pick the delectable strawberries, feed the farm animals, pick a bouquet of colorful flowers and enjoy a scoop or two of homemade strawberry ice cream. Another item I miss is the condiments like salsa, guacamole, queso, salsa verde, Tomatillo sauce, Boom-Boom sauce (served on my favorite Chicka-Chicka-Boom-Boom at Chuy's), smashed black bean or pinto refried beans and anything roasted. Oh my goodness, Austin has some great TexMex chow made with fresh, local ingredients. Try as I might, I cannot say we have a good Mexican restaurant in our area, even with the addition of Chuy's in Raleigh. The atmosphere and the food, for some reason, cannot be duplicated. I am often fond of saying, "Don't trust guacamole east of the Mississippi!" and the reason for that is the avocado. Guacamole has to be made with fresh, buttery soft, slight give to the touch avocados that are not easily found on the east coast. I remember sharing my guacamole recipe with my Mom and she said, "It does not taste like what you made when we visited.". Yup. It was the avocado. I tend to find avocadoes here to be hard and need to be placed in a brown paper bag to sit and ripen on my kitchen counter for a few days. But the taste is not the same because there is a bit of bitterness that comes with a slightly unripe avocado that was probably picked too early, but still sellable.
So in honor of our Texas roots (our son Josh is our one true Texan!), I am sharing my recipe for guacamole. This has been my staple recipe that I might spice up a bit now and again with different ingredients like roasted salsa, finely chopped cilantro or lime but not often do I deviate from this base recipe. The freshness has yet to disappoint and the recipe is frequently requested.
We serve guacamole with chips, on tacos, burritos, fajitas, Mexican pizza, quesadillas, sandwiches, salads, chopped veggies, pita chips or just scooped from the bowl with a spoon. YUM! And one of the most bizarre yet surprisingly delicious combos I have tried is courtesy of Thundercloud Subs in Austin. They make a Texas Tuna sub consisting of fresh albacore tuna salad, avocados, jalapeno peppers and cheese on a fresh whole wheat sub roll. I am already drooling. And yes, when I make tuna salad at home, I tend to add a bit of guacamole - bizarre but flavorful and a reminder of our time in the Lone Star State.
Life is too short not to enjoy the yummification of homemade guacamole! I hope you will enjoy this recipe with your family and friends rather soon. I think there is some basketball game on Monday night and also some golf thing in Augusta that people like to gather to watch. This will be a great addition to any potluck soiree.
 
Guacamole:

3 ripe avocados
1/2 cup chopped tomato
1/4 cup finely chopped onion (red onion is divine)
1 jalapeno pepper, finely chopped (I leave the seeds   intact but for a milder taste, remove seeds)
1 T lemon juice
1 t salt
Freshly ground pepper

Cut each avocado in half and remove seed from avocado. Scoop out pulp into bowl. Mash until avocado is desired consistency. Add chopped tomato, onion, pepper, lemon juice and salt. Stir gently until well blended. Grind pepper on top.

***Many people have been surprised that I do not add cilantro to my recipe and the reason is cilantro is a love it or hate it ingredient. Please feel free to have a side dish of finely chopped cilantro on hand that your guests may sprinkle on top.***

If you have a favorite TexMex condiment recipe, please feel free to share in the comments section. I am always searching for new recipes to joyfully test in my family kitchen. Y'all enjoy, now!

The Joy of Spring Break

For the Traditional Calendar schools in the Wake County Public School System, we are enjoying Spring Break this week. Because of all the higgledy-piggledy weather we have endured this Winter, our vacation started today instead of Friday. That's ok with me because our Spring Breaks are literally brakes. We stop. We veg out. We eat junk food. We hang out in our pajamas. We watch TV, movies and play on the Wii. We play Legos, create with the Rainbow Loom, play countless outdoor games and plant some bulbs in our much neglected garden. We take slow walks. We do not follow a schedule and we don't make iron clad plans. We kind of "play it by ear" as my Mom-in-Law often says. 
We are excited to take a quick trip to visit Grammy, Papa and Aunt Cathy this week. We will stop on the way down and visit our dear friend, Sheri, who lives in Greenville, NC and is affectionately known as "The Other Woman". She loves my husband to pieces and tolerates me. Just kidding, sort of. Sheri has been watching over David since he was an elementary school lad who bonded with her son, Chris, over football, basketball, and baseball and later, bars, babes, beers and beaches. Chris departed our lives much too early but Sheri remains tightly ingrained in our family tree.


Spring Break Whoop!

Grammy and I chatted about things we could do when we come down to Chocowinity and we happily decided we will see what each day brings. Sadie will be joining us this week, so her schedule will most likely dictate our schedule. But the beauty of these kinds of visits are all the possibilities that lie before us. We can stroll along the beautiful river in Little Washington, watching the boats dock and imagining the trips we would take on our pretend vessel. We can go to Scoops for an ice cream treat. We can go to Goose Creek to walk the trails, watch the wildlife and welcome the season change. We can take Sadie to the dog park to frolic among her furry friends. We can play imagination games with Aunt Cathy (who is sheer genius with her ability in this area). We can sit on the back deck, watching the birds and squirrels visit the bird feeders. We can wave to the optimistic golfers that drive off the 15th tee and hope they miss the sand traps, gullies and water that taunt the people chasing a little, white, dimpled ball. We can play Monkey in the Middle, football, soccer, catch or tag in the front yard. We can visit Mr. Macho, or Mr. Nacho as Josh says, a sweet miniature Grey Hound that lives across the street. We can play telephone at the dinner table and laugh ourselves breathless. Or we can just sit and visit. Pretty sure that's not a viable option, but an option nevertheless.
My neighbors have a toddler and an infant in their care. This past weekend the husband enjoyed a boys' trip to Vegas while Mom stayed home with the children. On Sunday, she popped over for a bit and I asked her how things were going. She smiled and said, "I know he's is enjoying himself." She was quiet and then added, "And I am enjoying the break from our daily schedule, too. I have napped when the children nap. I have watched TV without guilt. We have just gone with the flow.". They had put on the brakes. And they were happy. Granted, they will be just as happy when Daddy returns, but an alteration to our schedule is sometimes a much needed happy boost. When we don't watch the clock, when we are not slaves to a jam packed schedule, when we release our responsibilities and allow the joy of laid back living to seep in, when we just say today, "We are going to play it by ear.". And a whoosh of relief covers your body and your soul.
So, as I look forward to an unscheduled and mostly unplanned week, I notice the built up stress is slowly leaving my shoulders. I feel a smile sneak upon my face. I close my eyes, stretch my arms out slowly over my head, breathe deeply and hear the rising sounds of children with too much time on their hands. Ah, the downside to putting on the schedule brakes, but this too shall pass. And within a few moments, we will be on our way to writing our own story of Spring Break 2014. Let the fun begin!

The Joy of Vernal Equinox

Ahhhh, feel the warmth slowly return as the sun peeks her rays through the clouds this morning. A perfect gesture for the Northern Hemisphere to celebrate the Vernal Equinox, or as we non-scientists like to call, the First Day of SPRING!!!! And that is the end of my science lesson because as I began to compile my research for today, most of my truths turned out to be myths so I will leave you to your own discovery.
Our children's school asked the kids to wear half white and half black today to celebrate the Vernal Equinox. Their website even has a little tidbit about why Thursday, March 20, 2014 is a pretty cool day to celebrate. I will also tell you why: this has been the longest winter in decades, that's why! Seriously. School was closed again on Tuesday because of ice. Yes, ice slathered our back deck, made beautiful ice droplets hanging from barely budding leaves, left cool designs on the grass and made every parent in our area feel like we were extras in the movie Groundhog Day. Not often do I throw my hands up in the air to admit defeat, but this week I quickly fell to my knees in quiet surrender. Yes, Winter, who I have always loved for your beautiful landscapes, your quiet snow, your ice sculptures, your free outdoor recreational activities, the steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows, crackling and popping fires, buttered, salted popcorn, rich comfort foods and soothing Irish Coffees, I finally had to say you won. I am so over you. Like a bad boyfriend so over you. Like a bridge over troubled waters so over you. Like a Taylor Swift song so over you. Yeah, you know the one. Sigh. Just so you know, winter, I am moving on to someone who will not take me for granted. Who does not expect me to clean up after them. Someone who brings me flowers, sunsets and fresh air. Someone who makes me sing out loud, open up my windows, paint my toes, find my flip flops and put my fresh face forward. Today I welcome spring into my life and I could not be happier.

Swinging into Spring! And thinking I need
to wash winter off my shoes.

Spring and hope are similar in my opinion. We have a chance to see things fresh again, a chance to start over, a new beginning. We see tiny shoots of green struggle to pop through the winterized dirt. Within a week, a beautiful daffodil sits proudly on top of a long stem saying, "Look at me! Look at me!" bending and swaying with the whispers of the wind. Birds flutter and sing as they hunt for twigs, string, pine straw and grass to build their nests. Squirrels leave divots in the ground searching for nuts they buried in the fall. Tiny buds appear on the trees. The days stretch out their arms and push darkness into the background. Voices carry through neighborhoods. Signs pop up for swim club meetings. Grills sizzle and pop and I tend to follow the scent. The parks and trails are busy, alive and thriving. Farmers Markets become more crowded. Festivals of kites, art, food, music and culture fill our weekends. The sound of a hard ball hitting an even harder bat echo through baseball fields across the country. Brooks and streams and lakes begin to thaw in places that were frozen longer than usual. The gurgle and bubble sound lures small children to their banks to toss rocks, sticks and stones. We kiss more skinned knees and elbows but we hear less arguing. We see Lemonade Stands and Ice Cream Trucks. We see neighbors tending the yard, riding their bikes or stepping into our yard to catch up from the long winter break. We see goslings and baby ducks navigate a pond that must look like the ocean to them. We see kites soaring. We hear geese honking goodbye. We feel our skin thaw and perhaps catch a little color on our cheeks and arms. And we hope this sunshine we feel warming our bodies will be here longer than a day. We hope Spring has decided to hang around for a while and not be a weekend stowaway. We hope for a lot of things, I think.

Enjoying the exploration of Sadie's first Spring.

Spring is kind of like New Year's Day. We vow to increase our exercise regimen now that the weather is agreeable. We vow to eat better because we have access to fresh vegetables and fruit. We will grill more chicken and fish and less burgers and steaks. We will take better care of our lawn and gardens. We might grow some herbs or lettuce or tomatoes or peppers to offset the cost of rising grocery bills. We will plan more outings for our family. We will plan reunions with friends - maybe a big cookout with casserole dishes and ice filled coolers packed with iced down beverages and sparklers for the kids and homemade ice cream for dessert. We will buy more sidewalk chalk and bubbles. We will play catch and chase fireflies. We will sit on our front porch that begs for rocking chairs, sipping iced tea or lemon water and sharing summer plans that may not come to fruition. But we will be happy. We will be celebratory. We will be hopeful and joyful and springy and silly and uninhibited. We will hug our children tightly taking in the scent of dirt, grass, sweat and childhood because this season does not last long either.
So, today, I celebrate you, Vernal Equinox, First Day of Spring, Half White/Half Black Clothing Day because you are a reminder of all things hopeful, beautiful and joyful. You put the spring in my step, the cool, dark dirt in my hands and under my nails, the damp, chilly grass under my feet and the much repeated phrase, a song in my heart. And yes, while I grumbled about the overstay of winter, I must admit, like all good things in life, you, Spring, were worth the wait. Let the celebration begin!

The Joy of Quiet

In our frenetic, hectic world, quiet time is a luxurious commodity. Sometimes, when I watch the New York Stock Exchange ticker, I expect to see QUT scrolling by trading high. Usually during my week, I try to block out a day for myself when I have nothing on the calendar so I can catch up on miscellaneous things. And by that, I mean, um, I am a huge couch potato, lounging in my pajamas, praying for rain so I don't have to change out of my pj's to pick up our children at the bus stop. But this week was chock-a-block full. We had dentist appointments, vet appointments, orthodontist appointments, tutoring and volunteer obligations, extra curriculars, play dates, an evening International Festival at school and a few coffee friendship dates. And that whole Daylight Savings time thingy....what the heck...with a puppy thrown in the mix. Needless to say, I was dragging like an old farm mule come Saturday.

Nature Walk on our Neighborhood Greenway
after a winter snowfall. Beautiful solitude.

And then my husband did this amazing gesture of taking Sadie (aforementioned 13-week-old puppy) and two children to Bond Park for a glorious morning hike. Sigh. This is my Nirvana: a house to myself with nowhere to be at any given time. I poured a cup of freshly brewed coffee into my one and only hand crafted ceramic mug. I turned off the iPad, closed the desktop, pressed my phone to mute and sat propped up by two fluffy pillows on our kitchen banquet. Which sits below a wall of windows that overlooks our beautiful backyard full of tall pine trees, barely budding Japanese maple trees, one or two blooming daffodils and a bounty of wildlife. I stretched out my pajama clad legs and placed one ankle on top of the other. I looked at my steaming cup of coffee and took a sip. I burned the roof of my mouth and the tip of my tongue and oh my word, I was comfortably numb. I opened up my library book, sighed and closed the water stained pages. And I listened. I listened to Nature's Orchestra composing and playing outside my window. I heard twitters and caws. I heard frantic chatter. I heard the rustling of leaves, branches and bark as squirrels chased one another on their immense playground. I watched two vibrant Cardinals dance WAY better than anyone on a TV show. I saw "Chunky" perched on the zip line platform, surveying his kingdom (he is the biggest squirrel any of us have ever laid eyes on). I watched sunlight play hide and seek among the trees and ground. I watched a bird flutter on our deck railing, pondering, wondering and searching before flying to another destination. I saw big birds and heard big birds. I watched, adoringly, little birds with little beaks, little feet and big bellies tentatively hop on the ground. I whispered a prayer especially for their safety.
On Sunday mornings, if we don't attend church, I make sure to watch Charles Osgood on CBS Sunday Morning. To me, he is comforting, like a really good chicken pot pie. His voice is soothing, his manner genteel and I eagerly await for his announcement of the nature segment to end the 90-minute filled news show. It is totally organic and was organic before organic was cool. The soundtrack and the film is 100% natural. No additives or preservatives. Gluten free. Cholesterol free. Human free. A gentle reminder that all of us need to slow down for a minute and observe the free art surrounding us each and every day.
I looked up at my wall calendar while I was typing this entry and noticed next week is pretty chock-a-block full, too. One day includes a field trip to the Life and Science Museum in Durham, NC. I hope I can pretend to be Charles Osgood and introduce my youngest child to the beauty that surrounds us, to take notice and appreciate "things" we did not create, but yet should still feel obligated to interact with on a daily basis. I hope for a moment, 25 Kindergartners will be in awe of nature and I hope a seed will be planted that later in life, a little quiet should always grow in their busy garden life.
Shhhhh. Listen. Do you hear that? Yeah, me neither. Stillness is a completely underrated, serendipitously, joyful sound. Bose could only hope to capture the same surround sound effect, but until then, I will open up my windows, burn my tongue on hot coffee, and fill my house with the majestic, joyful sound that only nature can create. Quietly. Poetically. Joyfully.
Quiet. Try it. It does a body good.

The Joy of a Happy Song...Literally

If any of you have children, Despicable Me 2 was probably on your must see movie list this summer. Our kids loved it and well, we have to admit, so did we. And so in tribute to things that make us laugh, feel better and put us in a great mood, I would like to thank Pharrell for providing us with lots of happy today. Please, turn up the volume, find your happy shoes, and groove on, people. Life is too short not to shake your groove thing from time to time. See you on the dance floor or maybe, just maybe, catch you singing joyfully in your car like no one is watching. You are the people that make me smile because I know for one moment in your day, you were lost in the moment of happy, happy, joy, joy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6Sxv-sUYtM

The Joy of Soup

As we struggled through another early release day and another no school notification due to inclement weather this week, I found myself perusing through soup recipes as a way to warm our weary winter bones. I love soup. Creamy soups. Hearty soups. Chilled soups. Vegetable soups. Bisques. Chowders. Leftover creation soup. One of my favorite combinations since childhood is creamy tomato soup with a buttery, crunchy grilled cheese sandwich. Tearing off the browned crust and dunking into my steaming mug of slightly tangy soup is a mouthful of culinary yumminess. I am already defrosting. 
Today, I thought I would share another family favorite: Sausage-Tortellini Soup. I discovered this recipe in a January 1999 Southern Living magazine back when I could lounge over recipe articles, explore new creations in the kitchen and place in front of someone who would joyfully eat the meal instead of listing the reasons why the food is not taste  worthy. Sigh. But, the beauty of this recipe is even our children will eat this soup without complaint and "there are vegetables floating in there"! It's a joyful moment when your children say, "Oh, I love this dinner, Mommy!" when the aroma of browning mixture of onions, garlic and sausage hit their delicate noses. And there is something comforting about a large pot of hearty soup on the stove when the weather outside is growling, banging and hammering to seep into your skin and latch onto your bones. So, Old Man Winter, who has overstayed his welcome this year, I hope this recipe sends your bags packing and we start to see Spring peeking through the snow, ice and muck that has covered yard this season. 

Sausage-Tortellini Soup
Ingredients:
1 pound Italian sausage
1 large onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, pressed
3 (14.5 ounce) cans beef broth
2 (14.4 ounce) cans diced tomatoes, untrained
1 (8 ounce) can tomato sauce
1 cup dry red wine
2 carrots, thinly sliced
1 Tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons Italian seasoning
2 small zucchini, sliced
1 (9-ounce) package refrigerates cheese-filled tortellini
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese

Directions:
Discard sausage casings. Cook sausage, onion and garlic in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat, stirring until sausage crumbles and is no longer pink; drain. Return mixture to pan. Stir in broth and next 6 ingredients; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, simmer 30 minutes. Skim off fat. Stir in zucchini and tortellini: simmer 10 minutes. Sprinkle each serving with cheese.
Yield: 10 cups. Peer: 25 minutes. Cook: 46 minutes
Recipe noted to Louise Bodziony from Gladstone, Missouri

Note: I use sweet sausage when making for the children and spicy sausage when we want to kick it up a notch. Serve with crusty French bread and the remainder of the red wine for a lovely, evening meal. Enjoy!

The Joy of Fearlessness

This weekend I had the privilege of attending an amazing conference: Making a Difference in my Corner of the World. The end of January, a friend forwarded me a flier about this weekend spiritual retreat and I have to be honest about my initial reaction. At first, I thought, "Eh, I don't think this is my thing." But as I went to hit the delete button, I had a strong urge to hit the attachment button instead. Funny how a small key stroke can have such a strong impact on your life.
I would like to tell you about Jen Barrick and her Mom, Linda. On a dark, cold November night after a celebratory church service, the family of four headed home with their spirits high and their love for God overflowing when a drunk driver slammed into their van head on at a speed of 80 miles an hour. Five lives were altered, but one would be taken to a place no one thought possible. Linda recounted when she realized the wreck was real and that it took an hour and a half for their Toyota van to be cut away from their bodies. At that point, her son and husband were taken to one hospital with serious injuries, she was taken to another hospital with serious injuries and Jen would be transported to yet another hospital, unconscious and little hope for recovery much less living through the night. After 16 heart wrenching days away from her daughter, Lynn, broken, busted and bruised was reunited with her daughter who was still in a coma, fighting for every breath. The doctors mentioned to Linda that when Jen began to work out of her coma, she might cuss. A lot. Jen never uttered one bad word, but instead recited passages from the Bible and sang songs of praise. Her mom was witnessing a miracle.
There is a long and perilous journey between that moment and the moment when I laid eyes on a beautiful, spirit filled young woman on Friday night. At first glance, Jen is a typical 22-year-old. She has long flowing brown hair. Bright, sparkly, captivating eyes. A smile that stretches wider than the Grand Canyon. And a love for God you can only witness and hope to one day achieve yourself. But Jen cannot remember what day or year she is living. She cannot walk up steps unassisted. Her fine motor skills are those of a child. Crowds and loud noises can disorient her quickly. She has headaches and tires easily. Her body shows the scars that remind her of man who made a terrible, terrible decision. But her spirit is marked by the hand of God. And she is quick to share her unyielding belief with everyone she encounters. She is fearless with her faith and fearless with her singing. And she will joyfully inform you she does not have a voice for singing but she belts her tune of glory, regardless. Fearless.
How do we lose our fearlessness? How do we become skittish, skeptical, afraid of failure and even more afraid of success? How do we lose our exuberance and all the sudden, settle? I observe my children, ages 10 and almost 6, and realize they are not scared of much. Anna tried out for a local play without any theatre experience. Thought she nailed it. She didn't get the part but she said, "Well, I guess I will sign up for acting lessons." and off she went to her next adventure. Fearless. Josh presented his research project on Norway to his Kindergarten buddies recently. I asked if he was nervous. "No," he replied. "I can do this!". And by this he had to say, "Takk skal du ha!" with vigor. Fearless. 
As I sit here with a sick Sadie stretched out beside me, I realize I need to be fearless and I am struggling. I know too much. And yet, I know nothing so I am stuck here, dangling with trepidation of what our vet will say tomorrow. I. Am. Not. Fearless. I wonder how I came to this place of worry, doubt and uncertainty. Linda gently reminded us this weekend you cannot have fear and faith at the same time. It is not possible. She should know. She survived and continues to fight a daily battle of fear versus faith. I have some work to do.
I think about Jen. Her Mom says every morning, Jen rolls out of bed onto her knees and says, "What are you going to do with me today, God? I don't want to miss anything!". Wow. Jen truly does not know what lies before her today and she barely remembers what occurred yesterday, but she does not care. She lives in the moment, every moment, eyes and heart open, wondering whose life she can change today. And every night she hopes that she hit the mark. I know she did this past weekend. President Franklin D. Roosevelt summed things up perfectly. "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." Perhaps that should be my New Deal. Riding shotgun with Jen: faithful, fearless and joyful to the core.

For more information on Jen and her miraculous story, please read her book, miracle for jen and also visit her website www.hopeoutloud.com.

The Joy of New

We have a lot of new happening in our house at the moment. We have a new addition to our family, an adorable 12-week-old rescue Chocolate Labrador Retriever named Sadie. Life through her eyes is a new adventure every day. Whether she is discovering the chatter of squirrels, the typewriter sound of the woodpecker or the far away bark of a big dog that brings her scampering between my legs, she is deep in the throws of all things new. And that seems to keep her tail wagging and our hearts laughing. 

Our son is a little over halfway through his Kindergarten year where he has learned new words and subjects, made new friends, visited new places and is beginning to realize that new doesn't always mean scary, but maybe exciting. In a few weeks he will turn six. As my Mother-in-Law mentioned, when you turn six, you seem a whole lot bigger to yourself. Great new things lie ahead for Josh and I cannot wait to watch/participate in his discovery.
Our daughter, Anna, is also experiencing a world of new this year. She is participating in Single Subject Acceleration (SSA) in English Language Arts - a brand spanking new program within Wake County this year. She is LOVING the challenge and we are delighted to watch her gift for writing unfold. She is in Hoop Group - a hula hoop group club within her school that will actually be performing a few routines tonight. She signed up for basketball with a bit, ok, with a lot of prodding from her Mom, but finding out the sport is kind of fun. But she will not divulge that tidbit to her mother. Ever. This is not new. She is also enjoying new teachers, fun knowledge and expanding her social circle. There may even be a crush involved but that is "so not on the table for discussion, Mom!". Gotcha. No news there, either. But growing up is full of new emotions, new adventures and discovery and new things that will fall into awesome, eh and never again. Childhood is a beautiful gift but kind of hard to understand when you are in the midst of growing up. And then you reach a point where not much is new in your life and you wonder, "What next?".
I have a golden damask sitting chair in our Bonus Room that used to fill a corner in my Granddad's living room. Definitely not new but I love this chair not only because I think it is luxuriously comfortable but because it is one of my last  physical reminders of a man who showed me you can find new every day. Even in the clouds. My Granddad studied the atmosphere and had a fondness for those big puffy cottonballs plastered against a clear, blue sky. I should have talked to him more about the ozone layer and the hole they had discovered. Perhaps then I could talk intelligently now about Global Warming. But the cool thing about Tom Ashenfelter was he found the new in everyday things even when he was at an age where finding new was extremely difficult. He was a passionate gardener and enjoyed experimenting with soil, devices to keep out rabbits, and how to grow beautiful vegetables and flowers. He coaxed a squirrel on Dexter Avenue to become his buddy. He read about nutrition so he could hang around for a while. He was enthusiastic about his 12 grandchildren and found a way to make sure we were keen observers of life around us. He did not take much for granted. Even when his wife fell victim to Parkinson's Disease, he tried to find new ways to make her comfortable. He tried to find a new way for Minerva and Tom to remain together when everyone else told him they needed to be apart. He finally realized his wife of over 50 years needed a new home and that would mean a big change for him. I imagine he sat in his gold chair but I cannot imagine the thoughts that went through his head with this latest change. I know I sat on my bed for a long time when I heard the news that Grandmom would be going to a new place that could care for her medical needs. The descriptions made it sound like a retreat and I suppose to some extent, the care facility was an escape, but I wondered how this would affect both my Grandparents.
I have some great memories of my Grandmom in her new digs. She met new friends, nurses and doctors. I loved visiting. We would play games, go for walks, sit in the wooded area out back, play the piano, listen to nature, listen to the man who called for his cows from the porch everyday at 5pm and on special days, I was allowed to bring my makeup kit and "pretty up her face". 
New is exciting and a reminder that change is inevitable but does not have to stop our forward momentum, Sometimes the scary new becomes a comfortable haven. I think we kind of owe it to ourselves to step out of our comfort zone and try something a little different. Recently I read an article listing 20 things you should do in your lifetime. I was happy that I had done a few: preparing a meal with food you harvested, camp in the wilderness, scuba dive or snorkel and then there were a few I should try like making a piece of furniture or living in a foreign land. Both seem incredibly daunting but perhaps doable down the road. I think new keeps us vibrant, youthful and happy. And I was lucky enough to see the proof sitting in a gold chair, brown eyes twinkling, playful grin spreading across his face as he asked me, "What's new with you?". So, as I snuggle down into my favorite gold chair, with a brown furry blanket draped over me, deciding what new path I should travel next, I quietly ask, "What is new with you?". I joyfully wait your answer.

The Joy of Puppy Love

Last week while most of the country was battling record setting snow storms, we were falling in love with a rescue Lab named Sadie. She weighed eight pounds, crowning her the runt of the litter. She is the color of coffee with one pour of cream and has fur that is "soft as clouds" as our son Josh declares. Her eyes are a golden hue like the color of freshly harvested honey. She is the pup we have been praying would find us.

Sadie settling into her new home.

Sadie first arrived in my husband's inbox. For the past few months his brother had been sending him photos of puppies that were available for adoption. Some would pop in mine with a forwarded tag line that read "keep me strong". We would usually have a good chuckle and continue on with our day. But I started to notice I wasn't deleting these pictures as fast and I was looking at our schedule a bit more closely to see if a dog was realistically feasible.   I asked Anna if she would prefer a puppy or a full grown dog if we were to adopt. She said a puppy because she had only known full grown dogs. True, Mason was six and Dixon, one, when she was born. And I remember thinking "Oh dear, I'm not sure I can handle a puppy." And then we opened the photo of Sadie and I realized I was slowly making room in my heart for a new addition to our family.
Paul said Sadie was being fostered by a woman named Dianna who taught at the same school as his wife Lisa. She volunteered through MooreLabs, a Labrador Retriever rescue organization. So, Wednesday night we filled out an on-line application form and with great big butterflies in our stomach, hit the submit button. We guessed we would hear something by the weekend and agreed not to tell the children until we heard confirmation.
I awoke Thursday morning to a lawn covered in white and an application that had been approved to adopt Sadie sitting in my inbox. Shocked by both developments, I quickly found David and quietly informed him sweet Sadie was coming home. He appeared just as stunned.
Over breakfast we delivered the news to Anna and Josh. After the ear splitting screams subsided, we printed out a picture of Sadie to place on our refrigerator. And I tried to formulate a survival plan to get through three days of home bound children eagerly awaiting the arrival of our new puppy. Anna made a list of supplies we would need and on Friday we gathered the collar, leash, food, treats, toys and puppy clean up sanitizer. The night would be similar to Christmas, waiting and wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Thankfully, Grammy, Grandpa and Aunt Cathy were coming to watch Anna in her rec league basketball game. Our morning and afternoon was filled with silly games, lunch, and a brutal defeat followed by cheer-me-up cupcakes before we ventured toward finally meeting our little brown bundle of fur. We wondered if Sadie was ready to accept us.
With a small army of relatives, we arrived at Dianna's house at 4pm where our lives would be permanently altered by a tiny Chocolate Lab who needed a home. She padded happily around, greeting and licking everyone, completely unaffected by the impact she was having on our family. Without question, she was our furever dog.
Sadie has adjusted wonderfully to our home. She has already snuggled deep in our laps, our blankets and our hearts. She is playful, funny, smart, clumsy, fast, mischievous, hungry, and well, just plain puppylicious. She. Is. Joyful. And already it's hard to imagine our family life without Sadie padding around, making us laugh and raising our spirits. Sadie. Sweet Sadie. I think you rescued us.
For more information about the amazing MooreLab program, please visit http://www.moore-labs.com/.
And for a peek into Sadie's everyday life, stop by her Facebook page. She is always ready to greet a new friend. https://www.facebook.com/sadie.tingelstad?ref=tn_tnmn