Things that made me come alive today

Listening to the Chattanooga Symphony String Quintet perform at our school today

I play the flute. Did you know that? I do. Well, I did. I started playing the flute in fourth grade. We lived in Nashville at the time and in the public school system, every child had to either play an instrument in the band, the orchestra or sing in chorus. I will forever be grateful that the school system valued music so deeply as to require that. It was playing the flute that gave me some of my most amazing musical opportunities. I played all through middle school, taking lessons periodically, and all through high school as well. I auditioned for every all-county/all-district/all-state band or orchestra that I could. Band geek? Yes, proudly.

One of the greatest musical experiences that I ever had was being accepted to play flute in the North Carolina Governor's School orchestra. Governor's School is an exclusive summer program designed to enhance the academic, artistic and performing talents of North Carolina's high school students. Each year, there is fierce competition to obtain a coveted spot on one of their campuses. I practiced and rehearsed for that audition like none other. And it was worth every minute.

I was part of a group of students that were as passionate about music as I was. We were exposed to all types of orchestral music, not just classical. I remember being completely weirded out by a piece that we played composed by Phillip Glass. The printed music consisted of simply beats on a page with directions about what to do with our instrument. Not musical notes, but directions that had me blowing directly into the mouthpiece while loudly banging on the keys. It was bizarre and modern and completely unlike anything to which I had ever been exposed. It was awesome.

However, the highlight of being in the Governor's School orchestra for me was being introduced to Gustav Holst's "The Planets." Oh my. I had never heard anything like it in my sixteen year old life and I was hooked. I couldn't wait for the section of rehearsal when we pulled out "Jupiter" and played that lively, rollicking piece. Even better, I won the piccolo part and playing those light, airy notes made my heart leap. Oh, and then the solemn and mournful middle section where the strings and horns join together in a reverent melody! I remember when we finally performed it for our families and friends, I sat in my chair with tears in my eyes at how achingly beautiful it sounded. To this day, I can't listen to it without being moved that same way.

The string quintet today brought back all those memories. I play classical music for my kids each morning but listening to them reminded me that a worthy purchase might be the pieces I know and love. I so miss teaching at a classical school, one that values that piece of a child's musical education. The classics, the music that has and will stand the test of time. Listening to them made my heart beat a little faster, I found myself breathing more deeply and a part of my truest self was uncovered. I'm wondering what I might need to do to truly reconnect with that part...

Wandering around Barnes and Noble

I texted Jason after school, "I need to go to Barnes and Noble and soak in some books. Be home around six." Oh yes, I needed to go to Barnes and Noble. Something about the string quintet had me thinking about the things that I deeply love. I don't know if it was really even conscious but I just knew I needed to go buy a book. A good book. One worth reading. Or maybe it was just that I needed to be in the midst of books. Either way, it was good. It was calming and soothing and I bought a very good book indeed, an old friend with whom I'd like to be reacquainted. I also found an inexpensive copy of "The Planets." Thank you, bargain bin, don't mind if I do.

Hearing a pair of owls hooting in the distance as I took Knox for his evening walk

It reminded me of when we lived here and got to experience this and this and this and this. Sigh. I would've stood on the sidewalk and listened for a while but I think I was weirding out the folks in the nearby houses. Still, it did my heart good to hear those calls and know just what was behind it all.

And to know it wasn't monkeys on the loose. Seriously, go check out the "this" links.

No seriously, I’m still here.

I’ve been pondering this post for weeks. Weeks, y’all. I’m not really sure why it’s taken me so long to write because it’s all good things that I want to write about. Perhaps because it’s a post that walks the line between honest and holding things close that need to be held. Maybe it’s that it has been so long in coming. Whatever the reason, it’s just taken me longer than I thought to finally get back here.

And then a sassy little friend facebooked me {yes, I just made Facebook a verb} and asked, “So, when are you going to get back on your horse named Blog?”

Ahem. Right. Climbing back on.

I’ve missed my little piece of the internet but the time I’ve spent away from it has been necessary and good and fruitful. The short version {to be expounded upon later, let’s just get all this out first} is that, to start with, the lifestyle change has resulted in forty pounds lost, a running habit regained and is still going strong. Well, reasonably so. I cooked a fair amount of Pioneer Woman recipes over Christmas and New Years that have played havoc with what you might call “healthy eating patterns”. But the Cheesy Artichoke Bread? TOTALLY WORTH IT.

In December, our time at The Mountain House ended and a move was made to a delightful area of Chattanooga proper just north of the Tennessee River. While I miss our amazing neighbors terribly, I’m not going to lie- I do not miss driving up and down the mountain or the thirty minute commute to school. The Shore House is our side of a darling duplex and I’m discovering that apparently I do better with smaller spaces. Nesting has been easy and quick and something about having to get creative with less space has kicked up the “decorating on no budget” juices.

But bigger than all that has been the reason I took a sabbatical from blogging last September. What I couldn’t tell you then but can tell you now, is that Jason and I were separated through the autumn months. Divorce seemed imminent, papers drafted but never signed. It was a hellacious time for everyone involved and I’ve never been more grateful for my family and friends. However {and how often is there a “however” in stories like these?}, there is a happy ending-in-progress.

God did a miracle, something I didn’t think was possible. He brought Jason and I back together. Our story is still being written and there is probably more of it that I will share down the road when the time is right. But this part, this little piece, I wanted to share with y’all. I am starting the new year with my husband by my side and with a marriage that is on a completely different trajectory than the last three years. And that? That makes it a very happy new year indeed.

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Ephesians 3:20, The Message

Honestly, nothing else could phase me now.

{I’m coming out of blog sabbatical because this occurrence was too crazy to NOT blog.}

After taking Knox to play up at the softball fields, I came home to a voicemail from my across the street neighbors. They had noticed that one of the forty feet tall oak trees in front of my house was leaning noticeably more than the day before. We’ve had quite a bit of rain which apparently had softened the ground enough that this deep rooted tree was losing its grip.

I headed outside with my flashlight and began to peek around. Y’all, the root system was almost halfway out of the ground. I called my landlord to make him aware and then settled in for the night, peeking out every so often to check the slant of the tree. You see, if it was going to fall it was going to head towards the left corner of the house. Aka, the bedroom.

Awesome.

Too anxious to go to bed, I stayed up until past midnight. Around 12:30 a.m., I decided to trust that God wasn’t going to let a tree crash into the house causing the roof to cave in on top of me. Ten minutes after climbing into bed I heard the telltale crackle of a tree heading for the ground.

I don’t think I have ever moved so fast in my life as I did when I bolted out of that bed and into the living room. Once I realized the roof was still intact {the tree missed it by two feet}, I had to giggle at myself and the speed of my “escape".” Knox was totally chill through the whole thing. Figures. Let a three year old little girl walk by and he goes ballistic. A giant tree falls in our yard and he could care less. Dork.

Behold, my new lawn ornament…

I’m pretty sure Knox was hoping there was a squirrel nest nestled somewhere in there.

He was sadly disappointed.

A gracious God, angels watching over me…I’ve never felt more safe and secure.

Bits & Pieces

My morning commute takes me down off the mountain {only one lane when you’re heading down} and around the perimeter of downtown Chattanooga. The route takes me right past a few of the most crowded exits due to downtown commuters and therefore the average speed around there is no more than 45 mph.

Trust me, you needed that background info.

So this morning, I’m sitting in bumper to bumper traffic in which I can go no faster than 10 mph. I glance in my rearview mirror as traffic starts to pick up and notice a pickup truck sitting on my tail. Now I’m all about a well timed bumper ride, particularly when someone is sitting in the left lane while everyone passes them on the right {Hello, South Carolina! I’m talking to you!}. But when I am traveling with the flow of morning traffic and smoothly passing everyone in the right lane, there is no need to sit on my tail.

I tapped my brakes. No good, he was still there. He pulls out into the right lane in an attempt to pass me {and I swear I did not speed up to block him} but is unable to because did I mention the slow moving traffic on the right? So, back on my bumper he goes. At this point, I more than tap my brakes, look in my rearview and annunciate as clearly as I can, “Back! Off!”

He does.

For about a minute.

And back on my bumper we go. He tries one more time to pass me on the right, again, to no avail. The traffic clears up, another lane is added and I watch as he veers all the way to the right. All of a sudden I hear him honking his horn and I look back, thinking the idiot might be honking at me.

No, it appears that he veered off to the right trying to cut off another pickup truck in order to get to an exit. That truck would not let my bumper lovin’ friend in {rightfully so} and he was pissed. I watched as he pulled beside the innocent, safely driving truck and began honking his horn, shaking his fist and yelling indecipherable things {of which I’m sure there were more than a few colorful words}. My jaw was on the floor as he did this for half a mile.

Clearly, someone did not have their morning coffee.

Also, wouldn’t a simple bird have sufficed?

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There is a darling little four year old girl in our neighborhood who takes a daily afternoon walk with her dad. Apparently she is very threatening because my empty headed dog barks furiously at them every time they pass our house. About a week ago I was walking Knox and passed them on their walk. I introduced her to Knox and let her pet him. She looooooved him.

Today, they were passing our house when Knox and I were headed out for a walk. She made a beeline for her new friend crying out, “Ohhhh, such a cute puppy dog!” {Lick, lick, lick on her hand} “Ohhh, he loves me! Such a cute puppy. I love you too puppy!” {She puts her hand out for Knox to lick it again} “He’s giving me kisses! Daddy, he loves me! I love him.”

This repeated at least three more times before her dad was able to pry her away. I don’t think a more delightful four year old girl has ever existed.

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Amy Beth and I went to see “Julie and Julia” on Saturday night.

If Meryl Streep is not nominated for an Oscar, I will be seriously disappointed. Perfection.

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The Lifestyle Change is continuing in good form {if you’re just tuning in, you can read about the initial change here and the first update here}. Two and half months later, I’m down twenty pounds. I’m sleeping soundly, exercising at least four times a week {I ran my first 5k distance in over a year this week!} and feeling stronger than I have in a long time. I haven’t starved myself, I’ve eaten pasta in moderation and I am now eating fruit as a dessert.

Y’all, that last one? Nothing short of a miracle.

Neither Here Nor There

Well, apparently Amy Grant (aka, Mrs. Vince Gill, how lucky is she?!) made an impact on a lot of y’all out there. From crying along with me on “All I Ever…” to your own stories of (almost) meeting her to a universal love of That Hair, I think it’s safe to say that Amy has left a long and lengthy legacy. If I win the big honkin’ prize in Boomama’s giveaway, I’ll be polling all of you for what I should talk to Amy about.

You think it would be appropriate to ask about her current hair products?

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I realize I haven’t posted about our owl family in a few days but I do have some news: there is another owlet! I noticed him the other day on what I have dubbed “The Landing Branch”, thought he looked smaller than what I remembered and then saw the first two owlets in a nearby tree.

Sometimes it takes me a while to put things together. It’s been that kind of week.

The 4th grade class of my dear friend, Rita, has been entrusted with naming the little ones. They have come up with some creative and hilarious suggestions and I thought I’d throw the poll back up to see what y’all think. Check the upper right corner and cast your vote!

And since some of you are going through baby owl withdrawal and because it’s fun to mess with the rest of you who are freaked out by the owls, here’s a little fix for ya…

 

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Seriously, y’all, last week I thought I either had some sort of neurological disorder or that I was pregnant. Turns out neither is true, I just have some anxiety issues. After a panic attack (and I wouldn’t wish one on my worst enemy), the Week O’ Dizzy that sent me to the couch for almost ten straight days and a visit to the doctor, I now have a better grip on the situation and some awesome little yellow pills that chill me out somethin’ quick should I need them.

By the by, after checking my ears, throat, lungs and heart, the first thing the doctor said was, “Well, I don’t think it’s Swine Flu.”

Um, thanks for that diagnosis but I wasn’t really worried about that.

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Remember Baby John? Look at what that little rascal can do now….

I swanee, have you ever seen such a sweet smile? His mama has the gift of humor and laughter (which she inherited from her mama, she comes by it honest) and it is clear that Baby John will have it too. I love him so.

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Jason and I are headed to Charlotte tomorrow because…

ALLIE IS GRADUATING FROM UNC-CHARLOTTE!

Remember how I mentioned that she needed prayer for her missing math credit? Get this, the only way to get the credit she needed was to take a final for a class she had not attended this semester. Y’all, seriously, raise your hand if you’ve had that exact nightmare. {Cue the entire Internet raising their hands} That’s what I thought. My sister lived it and better than that, she passed the final. More than passed, she rocked that thing! I’m telling you, there’s nothing that woman can’t do.

So it’s Charlotte tomorrow for her departmental ceremony and then on to Blowing Rock for the weekend for a truly worthy celebration of all she’s accomplished.

I can pretty much promise I’m going to get weepy at several different moments.

So y’all have a good weekend and I’ll be back Monday with lots and lots of pictures of some graduation goodness!

How To Create An Idyllic Saturday Morning

• Awake to the delicious sound of falling rain and soft thunder.
• Fall back asleep without any concern at all for what the alarm clock may read.
• Awake again and snuggle into a nest of blankets and pillows to read a really funny book loaned to you by a very sweet friend.
• Finally decide to leave the warm cave of your bed, slip on your favorite pj pants and Carolina hoodie.
• Opt for a breakfast (now brunch, really) of eggs, biscuit and sausage. Offer to make some for the hubs as well.
• Rejoice when he offers to make sausage gravy to go along with it. For an idyllic Saturday morning, a genius husband who cooks is a very good thing to have.
• Enjoy your unbelievably yummy brunch to the sounds of the Great American Country channel, specifically Lady Antebellum.
• Join the neighbors for some impromptu owl watching. Grab the zoom lens so you can take the umpteenth shot of said owls.

 

The End.

Horace Takes A Wife

Horace the Owl is now a proper resident of our little mountain neighborhood. In fact, he is so comfortable that he even deigns to grace us with his presence during the day. Check it out…

{That weird buzzing sound you hear is our ancient camera trying to focus. Sorry.}

The other night we heard our owl friend in the front yard and went out to watch him for a bit. {Yes, this is what my life is these days, owl watching. It’s not life in the fast lane but, lordamercy, is it ever soothing.} Lo and behold, I spotted two little ones hanging out in the tree! Horace is a daddy. And he has a wife who flew in that evening to complete the little family. Her name is Dolly and if you’re not getting the reference then you really need to go here and then here.

One of the wee owlets was feeling sociable this afternoon and obliged us by posing for a few pictures. I think Knox has some competition for cutest animal around The Mountain House now… That little one can glare at me all he wants, I still love his or her squishy little head.

Jason has been on Owl Call Alert hoping to get a shot of both of our owlets. Tonight, he got his wish as evening fell and it turned to the light that owls like best.

It’s going to be a sad, sad day when this little family flies away from their mountain abode, not to mention we’re going to have to find something else to take pictures of.

In other news, I have been laid up on the couch for the last three days due to the seasonal change wreaking havoc with my inner ear. Nonstop dizziness has been the weapon of choice but I’m hoping that the decongestant suggested by so many folks will make the room stop spinning. The fact that the all the pollen and barometric changes are affecting me and not my incredibly allergy prone husband is an unusually cruel and ironic twist of fate that has left me terribly bitter a huge answer to prayer.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

And then the whole toilet seat thing never becomes an issue.

Before Jason and I got married, I had all these romantic notions of how we would learn to share everything. Living space, closets, bathrooms, household chores…it was all part of this picture of How Real Married People Should Live.

During our engagement, the topic of bathrooms came up as we discussed our future living arrangements in Jason’s current apartment.The apartment had two full baths and Jason’s philosophy, much to my idealistic bride-to-be’s dismay, was that he would use the “guest bath” and I could have full use of the one in our bedroom.

But, but, but…how would we ever really learn to live together if we didn’t share a bathroom?! Surely, this was a drastic first step for our fledgling marriage. If we didn’t share everything, we must not be doing it right!

Oh, the innocence of the newlywed.

Four moves later, I have come to appreciate my husband’s separate bathroom philosophy. No arguments over where the towels hang, no guilt in spreading my beauty products over the entire counter space, no fighting over who gets to shower first….it’s pretty genius actually.

After sharing a bathroom at The Country House (successfully, I might add, but with no significant positive effect on our marriage, who knew?), moving into The Mountain House once again gave us the opportunity to implement our tried and true practice of separate bathrooms.

Since November, I have made use of this:

What’s that you say? You want a closer look at the oh so modern wallpaper border? Happy to oblige…

 

A few weeks ago I decided that showering while flocks of sheep and 1800’s townspeople looked down on me wasn’t working anymore. A bathroom redo was in order but times being what they are, I knew a strict budget was necessary. So for less than $20, I give you my bathroom makeover…

First, that hideous wallpaper needed to come down. And if you are currently employing wallpaper border in your home (and it’s not a nursery) I’m sorry to offend but consider this the intervention your friends should have staged sometime after 1992.

Let’s take a closer look at Paint Jobs of the Past…

I can’t even…it’s too hideous to discuss. Next, the new paint color went on ($3.75 for a 1/2 gallon).

I picked a soft blue (some might even call it a Carolina blue) to complement my current shower curtain…And voila! The finished product…

Where there had been two rusty towel rings by the sink, I covered some cork board in fabric ($4) so that I could post odds and ends.

Another perk of separate bathrooms? Sweet notes left on my mirror…

I found a few cards with inspiring quotes, spray painted frames from The Dollar Tree and hung them by the shower ($10).

Some more inspiration (another Dollar Tree frame and a quote by Angie printed on my own printer)…what can I say? I think a lot while I’m getting ready.

And perhaps the most appropriate accessory of them all…

So there it is! My wonderfully light (and sheep free!) new bathroom for less than twenty bucks. Here’s to cheap and crafty endeavors of your own…

Oddly enough, it wasn’t a monkey loose on Signal Mountain

One evening a few weeks ago, while cleaning the dishes, I heard my husband howling like a monkey on our back deck. Now, Jason does a pretty mean gorilla impression but he usually reserves it for the nieces and nephews. When I asked the obvious question (“Have you lost your dang mind?!”) he informed me that there was a monkey in the woods behind our house and that he was trying to call it out.

Uh huh.

Alrighty then.

I waited on the deck with him for several minutes, heard nothing and chalked the strange behavior of my beloved up to sheer exhaustion. A few nights later I was home by myself and heard what, sure enough, sounded like a monkey call from the trees in our front yard. And then another one answered it back.

Let me just say now, there are few things more frightening than being home by yourself and wondering what the heck you’re going to do about the wild orangutans in your front yard. Do I turn off all the lights and pray they don’t swing through the windows? Throw some bananas in the front yard and call animal control? Or is Knox dog enough for me to sick ‘im on them?

Upon further listening and some rational reflecting, I remembered something from my summer at Rita & Dave’s- owls hooting can sound just like monkeys.

And of course, owls make a lot more sense in our front yard than monkeys. Duh.

Crisis averted, I spent a while listening to the conversation between two owls hidden somewhere amongst the trees and stars. Turns out, once you’re assured it’s not wild monkeys? Owls are very soothing creatures to have around.

Today, I heard one of the owls calling from out front followed by the squawk of a raven. Jason had told me that he watched a pair of ravens attack the owl the other day so I hurried out to see if it was happening again. I looked up from our front porch and there sat the owl and a raven. I rushed back inside to grab my camera but when I came back out he was gone. I headed to the back deck, hoping that he might have headed back to one of his familiar perches. I looked up, down and all around and then…

There he was, right smack dab in front of me!

 

Catching a snooze, but then something nudged him awake…

I think I’ll name him Horace.

Spring Has Sprung…

New Year's Eve 2008 - Petree Style

Menu: Chicken Au Champagne, Wild Rice with Fresh Mushrooms and Roasted Asparagus with Balsamic Shallot Butter.


Champagne of choice: Korbel Brut

Movie: Hancock

Current Mood: Incredibly relaxed and wildly hopeful about 2009.

Coming tomorrow: A more in depth post involving a summary of the past year and some goals/hopes for the new one to come.

Happy New Year, y'all!

The Great Debate of Oh Eight

Tonight I placed my Santa Claus chapeau upon my head, Jason threw "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" into the VCR and I began one of my favorite events of the entire calendar year: decorating the Christmas Tree.

Little did I know just how fraught with conflict this simple pleasure was to become. Ladies and gentleman, blog readers who read this random collections of thought daily and those of you who pop in from time to time: I need your help.

I spent my childhood watching my mom, Lila, wrap the trunk of the tree in white lights (so the interior of the tree is illuminated) and then string the rest of the tree with multi-colored lights. Year after year, Christmas after Christmas. The ornaments might have changed, sometimes there was ribbon, sometimes there was flocking on the branches. But the lights always remained the same.

Jason also grew up with multi-colored lights on his tree. However, his preference now is for plain white lights covering the entire tree.

You see the problem?

Our first year, I acquiesced to Jason's request for simple white lights. After all, he had made concessions of his own in purchasing a live tree for the first time in years. Last year, we weren't really in the mood for Christmas due to the trauma surrounding Jason's job loss. At the last minute, I threw up some garland wrapped in white lights and hung ornaments from that.

For those keeping track, that's white lights: 2, multi-colored lights: 0.

Although I won't be posting pictures of our tree until December 15th (BooMama's 2008 Christmas Tour of Homes!), I will tell you that our tree is currently sporting multi-colored lights. And yet, for the display on the top of our entertainment center I used white lights. See? Compromise. Even the Queen of Christmas Tree Decorating can manage it.

So here's where you come in. At the top of my sidebar there are two polls. Please, please, please, would you register your vote? And if you'd like to leave some more elaborate thoughts, feel free to comment on this post.

Remember, your vote counts. And my pride is depending on it. But, no pressure...

And if you do nothing else today (besides vote in my silly little polls, of course), do yourself a favor and watch the following clip. At least through 2:47, longer if you have time. I promise you won't be sorry.



(P.S. Jason knows about this post and the polls. In fact, he asked for them. Just didn't want you to think I was doing this behind his back. Ok, that's all. Go vote now!)

Oh, How I Am Thankful...

Look. Look at what I have to enjoy this afternoon...

Do you see? Take a moment to savor all the beautiful clean white space upon which we can cook. I know I have. Oh, it is heaven indeed! My wonderful miracle worker of a husband solved our sink problems and we are in business.

So, as I was preparing to print out the recipe for PW's rolls I thought to myself, "Self, ('cause that's what I call myself when I'm talking to myself) you don't need to print out the recipe. You have wireless internet. And countertop to spare. Take your laptop into the kitchen!"

And so I did. Along with a few other things that help me get in the cooking mood. Can you spot them?

I've gathered my gang of ingredients. They are ready to help me satisfy our carb cravings.

And by tonight, I hope to add a thing of true beauty to our Thanksgiving table...

(Last photo courtesy of Pioneer Woman. I can only hope my rolls will look this yummy.)

Oh, and bonus? I got to see this just mere moments ago. Hey, we're all thankful for something and well, the time to celebrate Baby Jesus is drawing near...

Bring On The Giant Balloons

It may be midnight before the kitchen sink is fixed. It may even be later than that before I finish washing all the dishes that have stacked up in the last three days. But no matter what, our Thanksgiving table is ready...