Snow!

We got about three inches here the day after Christmas--a day late for a White Christmas, but we'll take it. The snow was beautiful to watch come down, and not dangerous until the next few mornings when the roads and driveways turned to ice.

Easter loved it, and Joel had the best time throwing snowballs which she would unsuccessfully attempt to retrieve. She also kept eating the snow, as evidenced here.

My Favorite Pregnancy Photo

Tomorrow marks 33 weeks pregnant. I need to type that again to ingrain it in my head. TOMORROW, I will be THIRTY-THREE WEEKS PREGNANT. This isn't working. Somehow I feel like I should still be in the blossoming beginning of my second trimester. That's long gone and I'm starting to panic that we have done a whole lot of nothing around here. Yes, the room is painted. Check, did that the week we bought this house. Yes, we have the crib put together. That's about it. Remaining in the room decoration/furniture list are: sew cribskirt, sew valance, figure out changing table, have rocking chair recovered, decide about organization, and clear out the closets. This does not include adding back in baby items to the room such as clothes and diapers. Oy. And to top it off, we don't have a weekend free until December, and those are beginning to fill up! The nights have been busy around here, between Joel's usual work and our bible study and whatnot. The time is slipping through our fingers like sand. Yes, I'm whining. I'll stop now, only I'm headed to get a kleenex, not to break out the sewing machine like I should.

No, I Haven't Just Gained Weight

I finally look like I'm pregnant. I was starting to wonder myself.

This is from two weeks ago, at 25 weeks pregnant. Where has the time gone? I finally ordered the crib tonight! So much to do, so little time.

Halloween

So the boys (you know who you are) have coerced me into hosting yet another Halloween party. Now don't get me wrong, I love planning for events and having people over. But people had &@#$ well show up this year. Trouble is, Halloween falls on a Sunday. No big deal except the few faithful people who do make an effort to come are out of town...plus, we all have to work the next morning. Would people still want to come on Saturday even though it's NOT YET Halloween? Plus, there's an ECU v. UCF away game that night, time TBA. Hm.

And...the same boys have decided it's going to be an early 1990's theme. This should be fairly easy, since that involves all things neon. I'm thinking glowsticks for a start. And brightly colored jello for food... Other thoughts appreciated.

Also, costume. Joel wants to be Vanilla Ice. He looks nothing like Vanilla Ice. But last year he was a munchkin for the Wizard of Oz, so I guess this year isn't much of a stretch. I'll be 30 weeks pregnant and all I can think of is Father of the Bride Part II, which came out in 1995.

Automatic invitation to those who comment on this post!

The News is Out...

…that Joel and I are having a baby! But I’m just now getting around to posting about it, and I’m sorry. We found out the first day of May, and the reality has been slowly sinking in. Excited might not be a sufficient description, perhaps ecstatic. I’ve been busy planning and Joel’s been busy cooking for me, rubbing my belly, and singing made-up songs in that direction. Our second ultrasound was Wednesday, around 18 weeks, and we could have found out the sex, but we want a mystery baby! BUT, we got to see the baby moving all around, holding up one hand when the ultrasound tech started talking about Pirate football (really), and saw the tiny heart chambers, and the profile (which Joel claims looks like me). He swears we’re having a girl. A guy I work with says girl. Everyone else says boy. I should make a poll. Me? I don’t really have a feeling one way or the other! I'm counting down the days until I can feel the baby move...

Easter

No, not Easter as in the Christ's resurrection. We got a dog that week, though, so the name seemed appropriate.

One Tuesday morning before work, Joel noticed a stray dog in our yard, and beckoned to it. Skittish, it didn't respond until I came outside and bent down. The dog came right over, shy but friendly, and let us both pet. It scampered off when I left for work, and we figured that was the end of our relationship.

Friday night I finally got around to checking my email, and the neighborhood listserv had an e-mail from the town clerk. Apparently the dog was found and put behind the public works building while they waited for someone to claim her. No one did, and with no collar and no dog matching that description in the neighborhood registration, they were supposed to take the dog to the shelter within 24 hours. However, she was so sweet they couldn't bear to and waited until Friday. On a whim, Joel and I went to the shelter the next morning, and lo and behold, the poor dog. She had these eyes that just bear right through yours. There was a four business day waiting period for adoption, to make sure the owners hadn't just lost track of her, so we waited that out and brought her home.

We named her Easter for the season, and she immediately proved to be a sweet dog. Well-trained, she sits on command, sits when food is poured, and waits to eat until given permission. She's housebroken, and we can leave our flip flops by the back door all day and she won't touch them (except once, and I think that's because Joel's huge shoe is the size of her chew toy fish and probably smells about the same). Kidding, honey, kidding. She also tends to think she's a lapdog. About the only thing she doesn't like is not being able to cuddle 24/7 and taking a bath, though she begrudgingly accepts it.

Corvette Show

So my Dad raised me on old cars, and I developed a tender place in my heart for Corvettes. He has a 1971 Brands Hatch green t-top, with 365hp and a 454 big block engine. Sadly, it's in disrepair, lacking two things: time and money. Joel still swears he married me to inherit the car. That's sort of okay with me, I understand.

Dad met us for a show a couple weekends ago, and there was lots to drool over. I also learned that there used to be fiber optic lines in the console that would lose their light if a headlight or tail light burned out. Can't say my Envoy is that smart.

Miscellany

I can barely remember what I did yesterday, but needed to catch up from the past few weeks. Sorry. The following events are a scattered composition--I feel like Joel, rambling.

Sunday morning of Valentine’s Day we were up bright and early for church, since the Bishop was preaching. After a quick lunch, Joel’s phone rang, then mine in quick succession. It was Joel’s dad calling to let us know that Jaimee’s water had broken! Waiting for further news, I met Duffy at the gym to walk & talk (my body and my mind suffer without our weekly session). Lilly Jean was born after midnight, and we headed to visit after work Monday. She was precious, and the rest of the family was doing well, even Jaimee! This story would be much better if I had more pictures and my memory could serve.

That Friday night Joel & I headed north to take supper to the Martin household. We got to visit with everyone, play drums with Cole, and hold Lilly. Saturday morning we got ready for Cole’s second birthday party, where more family came to visit.

The last weekend in February we did what I think normal people do. Stay in their own town, eat, visit with friends, and have a good time. We never do this. Yes, we eat and visit and have a good time, but it’s rarely without travel and expense. Friday night Joel and I headed over to church for the Methodist Men’s Pancake Supper. It was delicious (almost as tasty as Papaw’s pancakes, but nothing can touch those), and we got to visit with a table of ladies who regaled us with stories of New York City decades ago. We headed to pick up a $1 redbox movie and saw a friend’s car, leading us to Pier One to visit in the aisles.

Saturday I met Duffy at the gym for Turbo Kick (hilarious) and then we took her adorable kids on an errand adventure. First to a neighborhood church for a “clothing swap” where you bring X amount of clothing and you leave with X amount. Complete loss. 99% of what was there looked like something your badly-styled grandmother would have worn in the early 90’s. The poor woman there said to us, “We need more young people like yall to do this to have a better selection.” Duffy came out with a sweater and shorts for her kids, and I found a onesie with boats for a friend. So I guess it wasn’t a complete loss, since I donated ten things to charity and took three. I stopped by Pier One to pick up some candle lanterns I saw the night before. I felt guilty spending money on something pretty for the house (which hasn’t been done in well over a year), but we had a little gift money to spend and since our dining room has no ceiling light…it was money well spent. Heading home, Joel and I made homemade tacos, which were admittedly delicious. Then the doorbell rang and a friend came by to check on our heat. That is a long story, but with his advice, it’s getting fixed this weekend. Before Joel could jump in the shower, our friends who had planned to come over for supper had come up to the door—they ran for extra drinks while he jumped in. One couple brought a delicious green bean casserole and the other brought five pounds of shrimp, to add to our potatoes and steak. It had been a crazy day and Joel and I hadn’t gotten anything ready, so it was a team effort getting the meal together, but we visited and snacked on some peel & eat shrimp before the main deal. My great-grandmother Nana’s remoulade was requested, so ingredients had to be purchased before we could sit down. It was almost a loss, as the recipe had disappeared, but my memory and chef John Folse’s Plantation Celebration cookbook came to the rescue.

Here is the original recipe I later located:
Remoulade Sauce a la Armand, from Nana:
¾ cup olive oil
1/8 cup vinegar
1/8 cup lemon juice
Celery (finely chopped)
Green onions (finely chopped)
Horseradish
Creole mustard
Imported paprika
Salt & pepper to taste.

Mix well & serve cold.

Sunday was church day as usual, with an excellent sermon by Bryan.
Ingredients for our leftover tacos & wraps we had for Sunday Lunch. Delicious.
That afternoon Centenary held a seminar by Dr. John Rosemond. If you’ve never heard of him or heard him speak, you should. Google him and see whether his non-PC views offend you or encourage you.

Overall it was quite an enjoyable weekend, especially with the beautiful weather.

Charles Mark Noble, Jr.

Mom called me right after work February 2 to say that Papaw had passed out and was being treated at the hospital. Joel and I headed to Bible Study, we put him on the prayer list, we checked in with Mom later that night, found her a flight down there and got to bed with him on our mind. Before sunrise, while Mom was waiting to get on the plane, her brother called with the news that Papaw hadn’t made it through the night. As soon as the phone rang in the dark I knew it was bad news, and when Mom was crying when I answered, I knew it was the worst news. It took me back five years to when Mom called me from the same airport to tell me that Grammy had died. Time stands still, and sadness sets in, but reality doesn’t. It’s completely unfair that my mother had to be waiting for a plane a thousand miles away to get that kind of news, especially when she has spent so many months in Louisiana taking care of them. Joel and Dad and I headed down first thing the next morning, and were greeted by the ever-present Davidson family & Mom. We were also greeted with the news that the stomach flu had hit Charlieville and that Uncle Charlie, Erin, and Papaw’s caretaker Deborah were out of commission. Since we were the healthy new crew, we tried to get things taken care of, including eating the food brought over by such caring family and friends and even far neighbors that I’d never met. It’s too bad we didn’t think to photograph the edible love spread on those kitchen counters while we were there. Sometimes words don’t amount to much, but food and plastic utensils that cut the amount of dishwashing do. The next morning, Mom got so sick she had to miss the visitation…and that night I succumbed, followed by Dad and Joel. Mom recovered in time for the funeral the next day, but we looked through the kitchen windows at the little country church and all the cars. The Davidsons rang and ran, leaving a pack of ginger ale and saltines at the door. Just when we thought we were on the path to recovery, Mom knocked on the door while I was in the shower saying, “Another one bites the dust.” My Aunt had gotten the bug, and we found out that one of the deputies that responded to the 911 call was also sick. The doctors think Papaw had it too, and that it precipitated a heart attack. The absolute worst part of everyone being sick is that we couldn’t visit with everyone afterwards and share stories and tears and hugs. Once Dad was on the mend, he headed back to take care of Mama Connie (who is now 98!). Joel had to spend his birthday taking me to the doctor in Louisiana, where I was diagnosed with a sinus infection and bronchitis. Mom somehow in the chaos made time to bake him an apricot nectar cake, which we enjoyed all week long. He headed back on Wednesday, but I was still too sick to fly. Unfortunately, this meant I was also too sick to be of any use to Mom and Uncle Charlie in sorting through stuff at the house. I was barely any comfort to anyone and felt completely useless since she was having to make me tea. I did get to visit with Aunt Libby, who’s really my fake aunt, since she’s Mom’s little sorority sister, but she’s my Aunt nonetheless. It was good for Mom to have her there, too. Then it snowed four inches on Friday. FOUR INCHES IN LOUISIANA.

Mom's Snow Woman she made while I watched through the window.

I thought it was weird enough that it misted snow for a few minutes in January. Uncle Charlie is convinced it’s me that is bringing it, since I’ve seen snow five times there in 25 years. The following video is best enjoyed if you picture Mom trying to make the best of the weather in overalls three times too big, and me couging up a storm on the porch in Papaw's slippers and Grammy's down vest, three times too big for me. Bless our hearts.

Once I recovered and we could find a flight out, we came back late Saturday, where Joel came in the SNOW THAT NC GOT to get us. Bless everyone that helped us through that week. Yall don’t know how much your thoughts, prayers, cards, food, hugs, words, and plastic cups meant. Really. And I can’t explain how much I miss my grandfather. It’s still sinking in, since he was in such wonderful shape last month. In fact, I had just shown him how to bookmark this blog and Joel’s so he could keep up with us through pictures. When I was in middle school he bought me a digital camera so I could take pictures. He gave me money for a newer one in high school, too. I’ll never forget his enthusiasm for technology and the thousands of pictures he encouraged me to take. Between Grammy, Papaw, and me we could fill a house (they sort of did!) So many people came through that visitation line telling me how he fit the description of a gentleman, and that is the truth. He loved family, photos, delicious food, travel, the Boeuf River, farming, and his dogs. And the order depended on the day!

ps. If this post is chaotic, it's a reflection of that week of grief and sickness. Here are some of my favorite photos: