21

My sister Avery turned 21 last week.  To celebrate, we all went to dinner (by "all," I mean she, my parents, my husband and I, and her boyfriend) downtown.  As far as family outings are concerned, this was one of the best in recent history.  We all enjoyed each others company, and just had a really nice time.  At least... that is my take on things!

Ave opening her gift

Ave holding her "Jar full of Memories" up to the camera

Avery and Mikey

Avery and Me

Andrew and Me

Mom and Dad

Avery and Blueberry Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting... aka: Possibly the best cake I have EVER tasted!

A Bushel and a Peck

For the past few months, it seems like Andrew or I have had something going on every second of every weekend.  We haven't had much down time.  I have been longing for a weekend to spend time with him and with the rest of the family, to relax, to not do much of anything.  We FINALLY got that this weekend!  I could not have hoped for a better weekend!  Everything was perfect... right down to the weather.  

On Saturday, we went to a local apple orchard and picked apples straight from the trees.  My parents went with us and we all had a ball!  Along with ten pounds of apples, we also bought Pecan Sweet Potato Butter (and yes, it is dairy free), which I sampled immediately... so good! 

The men graciously offered to be the basket carriers during our apple picking adventure, and they were so cute that I could not resist a few snapshots.

I find these pictures hilarious... Both Andrew and my dad are such "men's men" that seeing them swinging these baskets while walking through rows of apple trees is absolutely heartwarming and hysterical at the same time.

Here is a shot of the men handling the apples that they worked so hard to pick!  (: 

After all our manual labor at the apple orchard, we all had healthy appetites, so we all returned home where Andrew made a WONDERFUL chicken salad using some of our new apples!  It was a great day! 

Source: tatteredandinked.blogspot.com via Logan on Pinterest

Happy Sunday! :)

1Peter 3:8

" Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble."

In Nashville, we have a newspaper (The Contributor) about homelessness, put out by the homeless.  People who are homeless stand on the street corners and sell the paper.   Every now and then, if I really feel led, or if someone particularly pulls at my heartstrings, I take it as a God-thing, and buy a paper from them.  But more often than not, I simply smile and drive by.  And as ashamed as I am to say it, I often think to myself, "I don't need to give them anything today.  I spend all day trying to help people; it's my job."

I cannot believe that I just admitted that, but it's true.  The truth is, we can all make a difference regardless of what we "officially" spend each day doing.  Take the following story for example.  You may have read it before, but it's a good reminder.  When I read it, I felt embarrassed, ashamed of my horrible, selfish attitude, and INCREDIBLY humbled.  I also feel inspired to be a better social worker tomorrow!  Truly investing in someone's life, regardless of what that may mean for me personally.

Caution:  You may want to have tissue close at hand!

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.

What I didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry.

Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep.

But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.

Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. “Just a minute”, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick-knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

“It’s nothing”, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy”, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers”.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

The story you just read is from here.  

Fashion Friday: Denim

I love blue jeans... denim shorts, skirts, dresses... I love them all.  What I like about these three outfits are the high-waistedness of each of the bottoms.  High enough so they are above the hip bones, but not so high that they feel or look stuffy. 

And these outfits make great weekend outfits. They are perfect for be-bopping around town on a pretty Saturday. And that is exactly what I intent to do tomorrow. The weather is supposed to be gorgeous, Andrew will be at the baseball field all day, my mom's schedule is wide open. So yard sales... here we come!

from here

from here

from here

 

Lazy Day

Well, seeing as how Andrew has had baseball all day, THIS describes my Saturday perfectly:

And to make me feel less guilty about my laziness, I simply refer to this:

Passing the Time

Today was just one of those days... Not a bad day, but one of those days when I am fairly certain that all forty-something of my clients collaborated in an effort to completely avoid me. Not one person I called today bothered to call me back. I usually have the opposite problem: a select few clients call over and over and over again, multiple times a day, sometimes for specific reasons, but most often, just to chat. No one must have been feeling very chatty today. I spent the day staring longingly at my telephone willing it to ring.

In my desperation, I turned to blog hopping. This was a temptation that I managed to resist for hours before finally giving in. But, really, my sanity depended on it. I was at my wit's end. Not to mention, I had fallen behind since the weekend anyway. :)

So, here are a few of my favorite finds:

Joy the Baker's wedding cake endeavor is hilariously entertaining. And, I do not know how she does it, but somehow, it is educational as well. She spent the entire week planning and preparing this cake, and that week was not spent in vain! The finished product looks absolutely splendid! The best part? She provides such clear, detailed instructions that I now feel empowered! Her step-by-step instructions, which she provides starting from the very beginning of the LONG process, and continuing all the way to the very end, are easy to read, funny to read, and actually incredibly helpful (say I, who have yet to actually attempt a wedding cake on my own).


Seleta, from Simply Seleta, takes readers through her journey of revamping her foyer. The end result is incredible! I am in awe of how someone can be so creative and so organized as to creative a space that is totally livable, practical, and functional... and adorable at the same time! Everything has its proper place, and each proper place is stunning. My favorite thing? The hanging wall pocket unit, which is actually two units, so if you are decorating and organizing on a smaller scale, you have the option of just having two pockets versus four.

And this picture just makes me happy. For me, a popsicle is a happy memory: a memory of summer, of childhood, of simplicity. When I was a little girl, my mom kept freezer pops in the freezer all summer 'round... And my sister and I ate them by the dozens. My favorite flavors were the pink and the blue. My least favorite were the purple and orange. I used to try to save all the juice for last, so that I could drink it when I got to the end of the popsicle.

from here

Weekend, Work, or Anytime Outfit

I love Thursdays, because I get a break from my internship, I am able to spend lunchtime with Andrew, and I get to spend seven hours working in the library and catching up on schoolwork! Plus, all day, every Thursday, I have Friday to look forward to!

This outfit is great. It is so versatile: perfect for work, and perfect for a Saturday shopping trip with the gals. Perfect for breakfast on the go, or for dog walking at the park, or for an afternoon lunch with your significant other (which is one of my favorite things about Fridays, personally).

New York and Company has a more affordable version of these pants here. Throw this t-shirt
on with them, also from NY&Co, and you are ready for whatever your weekend has in store.

Unfortunately, I will not be wearing this outfit any weekend soon... It is still sooooo cold here!