Swim Ministry 2007
I love living in the pool house! We've really enjoyed the pool this summer. The Clayton's (who own the house) generously open up their pool in the summer on Tuesdays and Fridays. And, boy did the people come! We have had a blast and enjoyed all the birthday parties that have been held here. We're gearing up for fall now and soon the pool will close. Alas, all good things must come to an end...

Squirrel Nut Zippers - The ghost of Stephen Foster

New favorite video. Old cartoon put to the song. Impressive!

Another day, another dollar. So the saying goes anyway. The boys are waiting patiently for me to start school and of course the laundry is all done and the beds are made and the dishwasher is loaded and the house is dusted, vacuumed, cloroxed, swept, mopped, and windexed. I am just applying a touch of lip gloss and straightening my skirt before the day begins. The children are wearing their freshly ironed polos and khakis and the baby is fresh-faced and clean. People ask me how I keep it together and I just gasp and say "I don't know what you mean!" Very modest. I do know that I have an edge and I just think that God made me this way! I'll just sigh a contented sigh and kiss my children.



Content. Hmmm... The boys ARE waiting for me to start school since I yelled up the stairs 15 minutes ago to come downstairs so that I can start school. The boys' beds are made (kind of, since they make them themselves) but mine is not. I actually cannot start school until my bed is made (also the bed must be made before people come over... I still have to close the door to my room because there is crap everywhere, but at least the bed is made - in case anybody sees it). OCD. The laundry is NEVER done and right now the load in the dryer smells like mildew because it sat in the dryer all night without me turning it on. This after I had to rewash it last night after I let it sit in the washer all day yesterday. Is the house ever really clean? I feel like I just kind of let it ride and bleach the sinks and windex the bathroom when someone comes over. Thank goodness people come over. I only dust when Josh Mitchell (husband of Paige- one of my links) comes over. Not sure why that is, except that he is very clean, but surely he doesn't notice the dust on the entertainment center (or does he? which is why I dust). I don't care if Paige sees that I don't dust. Wierd. I have to persuade the boys to MATCH their clothes and they hate polo shirts ("They're too dressy! Why are we dressing up?") and the baby will wear his pajamas until after he messes them up at lunch. He's just a little sticky. Currently I am sitting on the couch blogging in my now drying sweaty running clothes which I will wear until the baby goes down for his nap after lunch so I can take a shower in peace (he likes to open the shower curtain while I'm showering and play peek-a-boo and ask "wat dat, mama?"). The cushions are out of place on the sofa, K'nex are everywhere, my breath is RANK and now I'm ready to start the day. Right after I make my bed. After all, what if somebody comes over?

I'm listening to Citizen Cope. He's fabulous. And he seems to go perfect with a stormy afternoon. Today has been one of those wierdly perfect days that just fits with the universe. Mundane activities, a run with my hubby, a short shopping trip to exchange something (all by myself), a theology discussion with my husband, and the boys getting along well (even with the punishment of no TV for the whole day), and now the opportunity of blogging while Quinn plays hide and seek with the boys just makes for a really nicely put together day.

I'm enjoying it immensely.

I was thinking about college life today. Well, I spoke to my Rachel (Williamson) earlier who is now 20 years old (close your mouths, I know I'm old) and listening to her college life and it made me think about mine. College was a glorious experience for me. High School just pales in comparison to the fun (I mean the vast deal of knowledge I gained) in college. My mother, I think, really wanted me to go to college to just GO. I really just wanted to get married and have babies, following in the family tradition of marrying young and getting pregnant immediately. This was what I thought I truly wanted. Living the dorm life did sound appealing though and I found out at the age of 18 that I got three free roundtrip flights a year on Delta (my Dad worked for Delta forever) until I turned 23. Dorm life and travel. Okay, I'll sign up. I would probably just get married after my first year in college anyway. That's what a lot of Bible College girls did anyway.

So I had a lot of fun. I did have a brief stint out of school (when you cut school and don't do any work you get kicked out) which was humiliating and a monumental life lesson. I traveled a LOT and did some crazy stuff which I would never do now. Well, I still would go repelling and I just recently went camping with a bunch of women with no men and 9 children, and I still do stupid stuff for talent shows and enjoy a crazy night out with the girls where other tables just look at us in utter annoyance for being so loud. So maybe I should say... I did crazy stuff then and now. I don't know. I had a lot of fun in college. But...

Didn't get married until I was 24. So those 6 years (that's right, 6 years for a bachelor's... wanna make something of it?) were chock full of romantic frustrations and disillusionment for me. Well, maybe not all 6 years. Quinn and I did decide to get married in the fall of 1998. So maybe... 4 1/2 years of romantic frustrations and disillusionment and a year and a half of sexual frustration. Looking back, I see how God used that time to teach me and show me how much He much He knew and loved me. I did travel a lot and I did enjoy dorm life a bunch. But I also was looking for my future around every corner and waiting for Mr. Right to just sweep me off my feet. Some days were very lonesome. I kept thinking every year "surely I will get married before I am _____." And that year would pass and I hadn't even met (so I thought) the man I would marry. Not only that, but I also seemed to sabatoge any relationship, so that I thought I would NEVER marry. No man would have crazy, sabatoge girl for a wife. (Quinn's so sweet; he likes Crazy, Sabatoge girl).

God is sovereign. He knew and knows what is best for me. It seemed he was silent when I prayed I wanted to get married. And He was just telling me to wait.

"I am confident in this very thing, that He who created a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus."

He's still not done, though I am very satisfied with my life. This is what I've always wanted! It makes me a little nervous knowing that there is unknown out there but at least I can comfort myself knowing that is unknown to me perhaps, but He knows and has just asked me to wait.

Okay... I've made a new playlist. I can tell it's going to be something that I like to do. It is very fun to find songs. This is a conglomeration of different stuff that I like that has interesting instruments, voices, creativity, etc. Basically, something that catches my ears and makes me give it a good listen to. Big Variety. Check out "Did I Step on Your Trumpet" on Utube by the Danielson Family. Crazy Stuff. I love tight harmony so "Didn't Leave Nobody but the Baby" and "Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen" are satisfying to the ear. "Toxic" by Nickel Creek is hilarious and you'll recognize "Remind Me" by Royksopp as soon as you hear it. Phil Keaggy is a brilliant guitar player and Solas is an Irish band which satisfies some ancestral blood in me somewhere. I really wanted to put "Sinister Minister" by Bela Fleck and the Flecktones on here for Burt, but it wouldn't take for some reason. "The Longing" gives a good taste of who Bela Fleck is. "Whip it" is purely for fun. Enjoy!

Quinn blogged... check it out. Very funny.

Our trip to Mississippi and the trip to the George Dodd Dairy!

Questions I must ask myself...

Do I really love my neighbor as myself? no

Am I self-righteous and scornful of others? no comment

Do I seek recognition and my own glory? well...

Do I, intentionally or unintentionally, leave out others so that they percieve me as a snot? um...

Have I hurt other peoples' feelings with my own ignorant words?

Am I a selfish wife, mother, friend, acquaintance, mentor, etc..?

Is it hard for me to receive instruction?

Am I prideful and arrogant?

Do I care more about what the scale says than my husband says?

Do I think like a believer covered by God's grace? It is hard to remember...

Is it hard to be submissive to a man who loves me more than himself?

Do I hate getting and looking older?

Do I harbor bitterness against others?

Why is it so hard to live sometimes? I am the picture of the naked, bleeding orphan who was adopted to grow up and be a harlot against her own beloved Savior. Why is it so hard to love something or someone? I know that I am a child of the true King, and yet I wear my rags of righteousness so well. I'm tired and I feel weak. I will still sin in this filthy body and I will reek of the perfume of my own unrighteousness. And He still loves me. And He still sought me and made me His own. I am clueless and He teaches me.

Weeks of planning went into the night. I was a little on the outskirts of the planning, but just listened in wide-eyed anticipation. Were they actually planning on going through with this insane plan? Why was I listening? Why wasn't I upstairs, in my room, listening to a CD and procrastinating on my paper? Oh yeah, I was downstairs listening to the planning AS my procrastination measure. So I sat, and listened with rapt attention with fear tied in a knot in my stomach. The date was set, the materials needed were purchased, the outfits ready (of course there were outfits), and I was participating.
I went to bed the night of the deed with the knot in my stomach pulsating. I was excited because it was a true college prank I was going to participate in with upperclass girls. I was inducted because of being a cheerleader and friends with Jodi Krey, whose brother was dating the upperclass cheerleader Amy. Amy and her sister Suzanne were the ringleaders of the outfit. They were always up to something, but, unlike me, were always able to make very good grades. We all went to bed that night, donned in black sweats and were to wake up at 2:00 AM to perform the dastardly deed. I was able to fall asleep, in spite of the giant butterfly weaving a cocoon in my stomach. My alarm went off at two and I just laid there, not really believing the others were going to come for me. Leave me be, leave me be, leave me be. Knock, knock. Whispers in the hall. I went to the door and just let them know that I didn't think I could do it, but thanks for thinking of me. Blink blink... Three girls with black shoe polish smeered all over their faces and ski caps on their heads looked back at me and then pulled me into the hallway where I was smeered with said black shoe polish and donned with a ski cap. Sigh... okay.
I shouldv'e gone to the bathroom then. But I didn't.
With much apprehension, I followed the silent girls to the edge of the hall. We had to listen for the Security Guy to go outside on his rounds. The door downstairs creaked and we heard him leave. We went across the upper lobby to the guys' dorm hall (tiny college) with all of our prank stuff and got to work. Heavy string at ankles length secured at all the doors. Black garbage bags smeared with vaseline taped across all doors. Vaseline smeared on all doorknobs. Vaseline (have I mentioned Vaseline?) smeared on the telephone in the hallway. Humongous bags of balloons were dumped in the hallway (which we had to drag across the upstairs lobby on our hands and knees so Security Guy wouldn't see us from outside in the windows). We hung stuff from the ceiling (I can't remember what) and sprayed some nasty smelling spray we found at a joke store all down the hall. Lastly, Suzanne stood at the electrical box while the rest of us stood waiting at the end of the hall. She turned off ALL the electricity on that side of the building and then we screamed as loud as we could and ran back to our dorm rooms as fast as we could. We did go to our own rooms and all agreed to watch the reaction from our own windows (tiny college that used to be a hotel that was kinda U-shaped). Silence. Darkness for a long time. Then, a light. And another. My heart was beating really fast. What had I done? I was the only one from my room who had participated in the prank and now I was wondering what the other girls (who were roommates, by the way) were doing. I was about to run to their room when I heard male voices in the hall. Um, crap. I listened at the door and could not make out their conversation. Then they knocked. I ignored them, terrified. Knocking again. Backing up to a dark corner, I continued to ignore them. Then I heard laughter and a key in the door. NO! Wrong key. Another key and this one worked (old hotels apparently had LOTS of the same locks). No time for explanation and the girl wearing all black with remnants of shoe polish on her face was obviously guilty. Hoisted up by many, I was carried on shoulders down the hallway, down the stairs, out the back door, and promptly thrown in the pool at approximately 4:00 in the morning.
Hmmm... apparently, vengeance was satisfied because the boys had disappeared without dragging the others from their beds and throwing them into the pool. I went back upstairs dripping (with Security Guy laughing at me) and knocked on my friends' door. They had pushed two dressers in front of their door and so it took them a minute to open it. Many laughs were had by all. Fun times.
This was my favorite prank performed in college. It's one of many (especially at FBC, I guess I outgrew them by the time I got to Southeastern) and I enjoyed reliving it.

Yes, this is the prank where I peed in my pants, just a little.
Oh yeah, my roommate slept through the whole thing.

Memory...

What makes a memory? I enjoy music a good deal; this song by Over the Rhine is amazing. Music to me is just a weaving, looping, overlapping language that touches different parts of my memory. I loved making a playlist. It took me too long, but I loved every minute of it. "Nightswimming" takes me back to 8th grade and an obsession with REM. I learned the piano part by listening to it so many times. "If I had a Million Dollars" reminds me of Joy Wheat (Baker) and my first year in college wasting time and listening to great music, cutting class to go to the beach, and not paying attention to the clutch going out in the Datsun. "Candy for Breakfast" reminds me of Joy, too cause she could swing dance really good. We would hang out and go to a Swing Club at Disney (sounds lame but it wasn't) and I would watch in disbelief as she was lifted up and basically flung around all over the place. I learned a little, but could stand a few more lessons. Anything by Squirrel Nut Zippers reminds me of Michelle my Darling Quinn and being absolutely insane with her and Missy at Southeastern. "It Had to Be You" reminds me of my mother and watching "When Harry met Sally" with her and my sister. Mom ignited my love for Harry Connick Jr. (pretty much for music in general) and I have loved him ever since. "Anthony" reminds me of Maggie Sharp singing for the talent show and how cute those Sharp kids looked on stage. They're such ANGELS! "Mockingbird" reminds me of my own humanity and how much of a mess I am. "Istanbul" is just a great silly song. I wanted to just put a million songs on there, I'll probably just have to make another playlist soon.

I'm just listening now to "Blackbird". One of my husband's favorite Beatles songs. Memories lap on my mind and leave a dazed look on my face and a smile on my mouth. I love music. Sweet Dreams.

Rollercoaster...



had a good day... swim day... lots of kids (lots)... now just kind of poopy (not Felix poopy, just emotionally poopy)...



I've been thinking about Amber Ellis tagging me moons ago to tell 7 things about myself that nobody would know. I'm having a hard time with that because, well, you already know pretty much everything about me. Things that you don't know I can't type in a blog (although I have told at women's gatherings, refer to previous blog and verbal diarrhea exerpts) so maybe I will make up stuff and let you think about if I am telling the truth.



1) I am secretly a(n) astronaut or FBI agent or heavy sleeper who leaves at 10pm every evening to do what is required of me. We make millions of dollars because I'm really good at this.



2) I'm obsessed with my toenails (not my fingernails); I like them long and without any polished chipped. (Thank you snotty girl in junior high who told me "no nail polish is better than chipped nail polish". Snot. She should see them now. Well, maybe not right now, but later.)



3) I have dermatitis and am dying a slow death. Dermatitis takes between 40 and 60 years from the time of diagnosis to finally drive one to complete insanity and derangement. (I have hit this early, it seems).



4) I stand at the foot of the bed nearly every night and pretend that I am in the Olympics and must make a flying leap into the bed. My hands go up in the air and I pivot to the right and left before my dive. Sometimes I do a somersault. Quinn thinks its funny (or annoying).



5) Kim Hill is an alias for me because I am in the witness protection program because my husband "Quinn" killed a man 10 years ago and we have now moved to Moody to start a nice quiet life as Southerners who homeschool their kids. Unfortunately, I am not quiet and I can't keep secrets.



6) I did a lot of pranks in college (and peed my pants- just a little- two times while doing them).



7) I like to put off taking a shower for as long as possible. Yes, it's gross. Secrets aren't pretty.

Funny, I'm pretty cheered up now. I tag Paige Mitchell, Amy Watson, Page Dollar (have you done one yet?), and Quinn Hill. Ready, GO!

I woke up with a vaguely uncomfortable feeling. My eyes flashed open and I thought, "did I really get together with the women in my church last night at Jessica Wright's ( that's her, by the way)house and eat snacks and chat?" Chat is such an innocent word. Chat. Very cute. We told stories and ate too much chocolate, which is, of course, the tongue loosener. I laughed until my back hurt; Paige Mitchell kept holding her jaw because she kept laughing so hard. Stories are fun. I love to tell stories (I do love attention, after all). We were there for four hours and just laughed ourselves silly. People know too much about my embarrassing stories. I did TELL them the stories, um, I don't know why I talk too much. Verbal Diarrhea.

I love chocolate (Jennifer Key's fresh chocolate chip cookies, Michelle Davis's Rocky Road Brownies, yum). I love good friends. I love that I can get together with my church family and feel SO comfortable that I tell too many details, with only minor regrets in the morning (and that is mostly because I feel like an idiot for talking too loud and talking too much). It is a very good thing. Women were meant to interact and be an encouragement to one another. I've got my Covenant sisters and I am happy.

PS I wasn't the only one with embarrasing stories.

PSS It feels good to know that I'm not the only one with verbal diarrhea.

PSSS Well, I'll leave this one for the nervous people who think I would mention something about their honeymoon. I would never do that.

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