Shovel All the Coal In, Gotta Keep it Rollin'

Chattanooga, there you are!

Today was another sleep-until-11 situation at my mother-in-law's. There is just nothing that's not great about that.

Then we went downtown and went to a lunch place on the riverfront that serves only hot dogs. But, you know, all fancy! Like, they do things to hot dogs you never saw. I had a dog with bacon, pimento cheese, and arugula.

Hank ordered a bowl of granola with milk. And a side of fries.

Then we strolled around downtown--if you've never been to Chattanooga, I do recommend--and took the kids to see Frozen. We bought tickets online ahead of time because I was thinking, Saturday after Thanksgiving, the place is going to be mobbed with families out on the town. But the theater was nearly empty, and then I remembered: SEC football. Georgia played Tech today AND Auburn v. Alabama. Everyone on my facebook feed was in spasms.

3Ds!

We really enjoyed the movie. I had zero expectations for it, but it was adorable. If you need to take the fam to the show sometime during the holidays, it's a good choice. Then we went back to Betty's and collected our stuff and the dog, and headed back down the highway to the ATL.

And now we're home, and I'm sitting here watching Magic Mike with Matt and Lincoln. Another adorable movie. But different.

I have really liked the daily writing this month. I think I will commit to blogging alternate days in December. Every day is, like, too much me?  Thank you for coming along and reading! I mean, looking back, nothing happened. But it was the kind of nothing I like. I hope and pray for a lot more of it.

If you'll indulge me, I think my favorites were my posts involving Matt, maybe this one and this one.

I still didn't even get to cover all the stuff that happened this summer, or even all of my neighbors, but we'll take it up in December.

Smooch to the nooch.

Interstate Cornbread Trafficking

Greetings from Chattanooga! Matt's mom Betty and our kids all went to bed before 8pm. So this crew up here is what I'm working with. Percy the dog is her normal self. There is a cat in this house, and after a few bouts of hysterical barking when we arrived, now when she sees the cat, Percy just looks at us like, "So you guys know this thing is in here with us? And you're okay with this? SMH."

We got out of Atlanta without major delays, but I bet we were among the last people to do so. We left home at 1:30, and as we drove up I-75, I felt like a door was swinging shut behind us. Matt went to the office for a bit this morning while I got us packed up and made cornbread. I'm doing the dressing tomorrow and I thought that was a good make-ahead. I'm also making a sweet potato and cauliflower au gratin dish I've made the last couple of years. Betty has a fried turkey and a honeybaked ham, and another family is bringing desserts. Hank has called dibs on the drumsticks, and I'm fine with that because I only have eyes for ham.

So we got up here in the afternoon and puttered around. We had a chili supper in the TV room. Matt burned his hands on a pan of party mix. Man down! He has a pretty good blister but I think he'll be okay. I helped him put a square of gauze over it, but he said that actually made it hurt more and he wants to leave it uncovered.

I read the December Living magazine with great attention and enjoyment. I don't routinely look at that mag but this is a good issue. Several things I want to cook and make. I don't know of many other magazines that still try to teach. Most of the other mags are more like Country Living, which I enjoy but which is really just trying to get you to feel okay about yourself and your efforts, you know? Put a bird on it! But MS Living and maybe Southern Living are the only ones I can think of that are like, "You are ignorant about maple trees, let us help," or such.

It is cold on Signal Mountain, below freezing, and as we drove up the road, the kids were excited to see long icicles hanging off the bluffs and boulders. I could stay gone for a month, I packed so much. I mean, I only packed the big Vera tote that I bring everywhere, but somehow I am prepared for any eventuality. I have snow boots, I have tennis clothes, I have an eyelash curler, I have apple cider and fresh sage.

What are y'all doing? Sheltering in place? You cooking? Render over the deets. xo

Muddy Buddies

Last Friday night we spent the night in Athens, GA. We got up Saturday morning, drove to the middle of nowhere, turned left, and at length, arrived at the Tough Mudder racecourse. This was an eleven or twelve-mile run with 21 obstacles, most of them involving feats of strength or the willingness to get completely filthy. There were, like, at least a thousand people with this willingness.

Matt and his gang had trained, prepared, and purchased performance fabrics. They gathered as a group, listened to pep talks, and had to climb over a wall to even begin the race. As they ran away from the start, I was giddy with pleasure at not having to do it myself. But then it started to look like they were really having fun.

Splash.

Just dudes in mud.

Then, after Matt and his friends were all wet and slicked in mud, it was kind of, um, hot, and I realized the full eye-candy potential of this whole scene.

Ceremonial finish-line sweatbanding.

Then they got handed beer.

Then shower time.

Matt and his friends made it through in good style. He felt like his training had been good, he had something left in the tank, and nothing hurt too bad. Nobody liked the electric shocks though.

If I'd been thinking that the race looked really fun, the electrical component was a deal breaker for me.

Hank loved the whole scene.

Muddy family.

And somehow I was really tired after all of this, even though I didn't do anything. I did step in an ant bed though. My struggles! And then we set out for a night at the beach and Hank threw up all over the inside of the car as we passed through Statesboro but it all turned out okay.

If you are into it, there are more mud pics here. 

And then yesterday, my brother-in-law Jason did this down in Sydney. Only it is autumn there. Crazy! These boys and their games.

A Price Above Rubies

Rainy Pensacola

Another thing that happened last month while I was not here blogging was that I made a fast trip down to Pensacola, just me. My dear old friend Houston's mother died, suddenly. I've been his friend, and loved his family, since I was Laura's age. I called Betty to come to my house, then I put a dress, a raincoat, and a bottle of wine in my car and went.

It was a very compressed visit, but I got to see them all and be with them a little bit. Back at the house after the visitation, I told them how Houston's mom, Jeanette, had called me one day the summer after I graduated from high school. Houston was gone on to college by then, but she wanted to pick me up and have a girls' day out. She was a proper Southern lady, the real deal, so I knew this called for dressing up, like nearly white-glove level.

So out we went. She took me to lunch and shopping, and bought me a school bag to take to college in the fall. I remember, even with my seventeen year-old sensibilities, feeling special and grateful that she wanted to spend time with me. When she dropped me off that day, she said, "Do me a favor. Do not write me a thank-you note." So I didn't, I took her at her word. But then, when I would look back on that day later, I would think, "Aw, man! I should have written her a thank-you note! It was a test and I failed!" I thought this from about the ages of 22 to 39.

Then, just the other week, but before she died, I was doing something for somebody and I thought something like, "I hope they don't feel like they have to thank me," and I flashed back to that unwritten thank-you note, and I realized that Jeanette really didn't want me to write her a thank-you note. She didn't do it because she wanted to be thanked, she just wanted to do it.

At her funeral, her husband of nearly fifty years read the part of Proverbs about the virtuous woman, and then her children did rise up and call her blessed, and let me tell you, there was not a dry eye in the house.

Houston and both of his sisters spoke about their mom, and something his sister Betsy said has stayed with me. Betsy said that, as a parent, her mother was "easy to please, and hard to disappoint."

As the church people say, when I heard that, I felt convicted. "Hard to disappoint." I'm grappling with what that means. I don't think it means that you don't have expectations, or that you don't discipline and correct, but it seems like something bigger, something more expansive and gracious, something to strive for. To be hard to disappoint. I am thinking on it.

Chime in if that chimes with you.
Love,
Me  

Summer Flashback: Ate at Joe's

During my lengthy summer blog hiatus, we got to go spend a week with Matt's family at his brother and sister-in-law's lake house in Western Mass. Chris and Robin were awesome hosts. This was a week of many new scenes for us, and we loved it all: The lake, the perfect temperatures, and the pretty little towns. One day we went to the Norman Rockwell museum in Stockbridge, which is well worth seeing for all the Saturday Evening Post covers alone. Then we went to the Joe's Diner that you see in several Rockwell paintings from the 50's. It's in Lee, and if Robin hadn't taken us there, I never would have noticed it. It is a tiny hole-in-the-wall place. But guess who was there? The actual Joe, seen in this painting.

"The Runaway," 1958.

My runaways, 2012. With the authentic Joe!

Joe was quite happy to pose with the kids. Recreating the painting was his suggestion.

Cousins: Laura, Kay, Hank, and Abby

The museum is on a really pretty piece of land, and they've moved Rockwell's studio there from in town. That was my favorite part. It's a cute little house that looks like a barn. This was a great outing to do with kids, because they really get down with the whole illustration thing. The museum had a neat scavenger hunt of stuff for the kids to find in the paintings.

Outside Stockbridge

In the studio. L, Abby, and Kay compare two different versions of "Mosaic."

Hank wanted to be sure everybody saw his pirate flag, which was actually from a Howard Pyle exhibit at the museum and had nothing to do with Rockwell. But you know, yarr!

Thank you for indulging me in this nostalgic look back at July. It was just a simpler world then, you know? xoxo

Into Green Acres

Baby Gabe is working hard, but he wants to know, are you?

My brother and sister-in-law, formerly of Capitol Hill, Washington DC, have lit out for the territory, leaving their city life and buying a house on 39 acres in the country outside Huntsville, Alabama. So far outside Huntsville, actually, that they are in Tennessee. The house is a beautiful, barely lived-in cottage that was custom built by two gay guys. Ideal. There is a cave entrance on their property, lots of deer and turkeys, a haunted church across the road, and a legend about a Bigfoot-style monster, the Beast of Bee Spring, who stalks the area. So, basically perfect. This local Bigfoot has a devoted cult following of people who assemble at the church every Halloween to wait for him to manifest, like a redneck Great Pumpkin.

I am very excited to visit.

And we are going over there tonight, just for the weekend. Yay! I haven't seen Gabriel in forever, or not since August anyway.

I am packing our things and we will leave as soon as Matt gets finished playing something called Whirlyball. I don't know, it's a company team-building thing, and it involves bumper cars and lacrosse sticks. And people think computer game development is not a real job.

Leaving town means I had to turn down an invitation from my tennis friend T to go see the new Twilight movie with her. Which I totally would have done, but it will have to wait. Oh Edward!

What are y'all up to? Have a good Friday night and I will check back in with you tomorrow, unless I meet the Beast of Bee Spring first.

Midnight in The Garden of Awesome

Oh you know it.

I had these two completely outrageous stories to tell you and I thought, "Perfect way to restart blogging!" then I woke up and realized I had dreamed both of them. And I don't know if we really want to start dreamblogging because where might that lead? Also, one of them involved tennis, anyway.

I feel like I have to pick up and tell you about the thing which was about to happen during my last post, like I am a book that you just put down. So it was that Matt was taking me out of town for our anniversary and I didn't know where. I continued to not know where as we said goodbye to the kids, got into the car, and drove out of town. I still didn't know where until we got on I-16 toward Savannah, and then, with Holmesian powers of deduction, I turned to Matt and said, "Is it Savannah?" And he goes, "Do you want to know yet?"

It was Savannah! And the first thing we did to see the town was Segway. Matt was like, "I have a surprise for you. But you can guess it if you remember that I always stick to what works." And I was all, "Segway!!!"

Segway is the perfect mode of transport for a place like Savannah. You can cover the whole historic district in fine style. All those pretty squares and monuments and shady trees. So romantic, I loved it. Our guide was an earnest SCAD student who told us Who Slept Here or Who Was Born or Who Haunts Here at every house. My takeaway was that, if nobody every quartered troops in your house, you are nothing in this town.

Remember Kevin Spacey's house in that movie?

At one point we were strolling along and I heard a familiar peal of bells. When my iphone screen did not show an incoming call, I turned in a slow circle, confused. "Oh!" I realized, "That's an actual church!" The look on Matt's face made me say, "WHAT." His only comment was, "I think you are interesting and fun," and he left it at that. Smart guy.

Bedscape.

Mattscape. Those vases are glued down, I don't know.

The next stop on our getaway was Tybee Island. I had never been there, and if you are needing the Hilton Head experience, this is not it. Definitely not fancy, but it reminded me a lot of how Pensacola Beach was when I was growing up. Just your basic beach but it had a lot of charm. We stayed in a hotel right on the sand. They set up an umbrella and a couple of chairs for us, and on Sunday, I sat in those chairs from 10:30-5:00. Tough day at the office. It occurred to me that it has been years since I went to the beach without a kid to keep track of. Like, seriously years. It was just what I needed.

Bonus Mattscape

Tybee Lighthouse

Seventeen years, baby!

Oh, and because I didn't know where we were going or exactly what the activities/weather would be, I packed: two pairs of jeans, pair of black pants, two dresses, bazillion tops, fugly shorts, and bathing suit. I wore: one t shirt, one sweater, the shorts, bathing suit, and one dress as a cover up. I could pretty much throw all of my clothes away, but isn't that always the lesson?

Okay, now that I have cleared away old business, I can move forward with blogging and gear up for NaBloPoMo. It dawned on me that I have been living the unexamined life and you know we don't want that.

Enough about me, what about you? How's tricks? xoxox

Bedscape: Hotel Helix in DC

Groovy baby.

Omigaw y'all! We haven't had a bedscape post in yonks, and yet I do love 'em so! The kids and I were up in Washington DC for the week of the 4th, and we had some fun accomodations. Part of the time we stayed in a little pied-à-terre of Matt's Uncle John. I was going to do a bedscape of that, because it's a cute wee studio in Dupont Circle, but then I thought that maybe people don't want their bedrooms published on my blog? Possibly?

Then we moved to a hotel for part of the week. I had set out to find a place that the kids would think was fun, because hotel living is big entertainment for them. Major entertainment. If you only saw how much they enjoy even elevators, you would, like, almost cry.

(True story: while we were at John's apartment, the kids asked me if they could ride the elevator unaccompanied down to the lobby and back. I said sure. They came back and reported that a woman in a business suit got onto the elevator with them for the ride back up. She smiled at them and said, "Tough day at the office?" And Hank said, "Oh no, we are not workers. We're just here touring." In case that wasn't clear.)

So the Helix is in Logan Circle, and it's one of those "trendy" places that I knew would speak deeply to Laura's soul. And it did.

The decorating scheme was bright and modern, and very comfy. We all liked it. Especially because we arrived there for the first time having walked all the way up 15th St., with thousands of our closest friends,  after the fireworks on the Mall. We were hot, dusty refugees, and the Helix was like an oasis. With a minibar.

God bless America.

Our room came with a "credit" for the minibar. The prospect of actually getting things out of the minibar was, for the kids, like their birthdays and Christmas at Hogwarts combined. Unimagined heights of delight. They picked pop rocks and Pez. The way you know a place was designed by hipsters: The minibar contains pop rocks and Pez. Also wax lips. Mama had her eye on a little bottle of wine, but I might have had to share it with them.

So we just had a great time there. Very friendly place and just what we needed.

Laura enjoying her continental breakfast.

The boy has simple tastes.

The dining room in this place is sort of loungey, and I gather they have a hopping happy hour at which they serve free wine and champagne. I did not get to take advantage of this as we were always touring around, but it would be fun for a grownup trip. Our main indulgence was all piling in the bed and watching TV at the end of a long day of sightseeing. At home, we don't have TV's in our bedrooms. And we don't have Cheez-its very often either, so this for them was The Good Life.

I'll be back with more reportage about, I guess, our actual trip outside of the hotel, but you know, bedscape! Wishing you happy travels with your brood. xoxo

Fantabulous Wedding in LA

At the start of the evening...

...and at the end of the evening.

Last week I was so flustered with Hank's end-of-school stuff and playing vast quantities of tennis, badly, that I might not have told you guys that Matt and I were going to our friends' wedding in Los Angeles. And then I told you on facebook (you should "like" me 'cause I like you!), only I might have only said that we were in an airport (and that I yelled "Dark meat!" across the concourse because I was seized with fear that even after sixteen years of marriage, Matt might not know my chicken preference). So gosh, there is just so much living that sometimes bits of it slip away from the narrative grid upon which I want to index all of life.

Our friends Mike and Amy got married at a place called Hollywood Castle in the Hollywood hills. It is, well, this castle place. Or it is a house built to look like a castle in a kind of Disneyland way. And also like Disneyland, before you get there you're not sure what to expect, and then when you arrive you're like, "Oh, wow, this is just pure fun. Castle, YES!" And even better than Disneyland because open bar.

View from the driveway

The setting of this place, right on top of a hill, was wonderful. We could see the Hollywood sign from one side and the city from the other. The wedding couple was beautiful, and we got to see friends we haven't seen since we left California six years ago. Half of the wedding guests (three-quarters?) were in costume of some kind--medieval, fantasy, steampunk, who knows--and the whole effect was lovely. Definitely an unforgettable night.

This was the moss topiary dragon that watched over the table assignments. He was charming. His name is I Cost More Than College. Ha ha! jk, higher education has gotten crazy $$ the last few years. And the bride told me his name is Edgar.

The ceremony was on a green lawn overlooking the city, and then while we were having drinks, magic elves set up tables for us to have dinner out there.

Our table

My date

I'm not sure why this pic came out tilted; it can't be all that mead I drank.

This picture shows the little moat surrounding the castle, a charming wee moat that I almost fell into when the heel of my shoe got stuck between the boards of that bridge. I only went down on one knee though, so I'm sure everybody who saw me just thought I was kneeling in sudden prayer. I kinda wish I had fallen in because I probably would have come out clutching Excalibur. Usually that is what happens when I fall down at parties.

Then there was cake and dancing. Matt and I got to practice one of the two dance steps we know. And though Matt is against the idea of our renewing our wedding vows, as he believes our original vows are still in force and why cast doubt on that, I always feel a little like when we go to a wedding, those vows renew themselves a tiny bit.

Have you ever been to a themed wedding that you really loved? This was a nice one. For more pics of the scene and lots of pics of me but only one lonely picture that shows my shoes, click here.

Flashback And Sort of A Before And After

I was going to share some pictures from my doctoral graduation last summer, because I never blogged about it. So I dug back in my flickr sets and looked at the pictures, and I was like, "Whoa, I was thirty pounds heavier." Look, here I am with my beautiful friend Erika last June, and below that is one taken of me this Easter.

June 2011

April 2012

I don't know that I've actually seen the comparison before. Even with my being slightly hunched over in this pic and thus accentuating my honeybaked ham belly, I can really see the difference in my face and arms. It's funny, in my mind's eye I've always looked the same.

So, my graduation last June. Remember how I had wanted the whole family to go and then I almost didn't go and there was crying? Well I am so, SO glad I went and shared those days with good friends. It really properly marked the ending of that grad school chapter in my life, in a true valedictory way. Before the graduation ceremony, I was always feeling slightly melancholy for Santa Cruz. I loved living there--we had so many happy, major, formative times there. Laura arrived there as a newborn and left ready for Kindergarten, and it was a complete intellectual, social, and emotional passage for me. I guess that is why they call it an education.

Getting my hood

With my friend Jon

Our engagement photo

Braintrust: David, Erika, and Veronica

Beach Boardwalk

Even as we settled into our lives here in Atlanta, I always felt a little like I somehow should still be in California. But somehow going out there and walking in the graduation helped me feel happy that it all happened but not sad it was over. There might something to this whole mark-a-life-moment-with-a-ceremony thing. It could catch on.

If you are into it, more pictures are here.

And you guys! It's the last day of our month of daily blogging. I have loved our talks. It has been more than worth the loss of evening netflix time. (Believe it or not, it takes like an hour to talk about nothin'.) Thank you for coming around and reading and commenting. You are such a peach.

If you haven't already, go click on the facebook button up there on the left and "like" SubMat on fb. That is, if you like SubMat. Then we can be all chatty all the time. I'll be like, "OMG," and you'll be all, "I know!"