I'm returned from a most love-a-ly  week in Florida with my mother, sisters, grandmother, daughters, aunt, and cousin! It was a full, slow, relaxing, most wonderful week, with some of my most favorite people ever! There were about 400 pictures on my camera by the time I returned home, and I am [slowly] going through and editing them. No worries - I do not intend to post all 400+ pictures. But I will show a few ~ just because I can't resist introducing my lovely family.

But at a later day.  Until then, let me show you a bit of

spring on our front porch.

Blogs everywhere are showing glorious displays of spring, and mine is just one more in the midst of millions, I know. So if you're taking the time to read this little site, well, thanks. I'm just one more woman
celebrating the arrival of spring,
of warmth,
of new life,
and of fresh beauty!

[there is a sweetness about little girls and pink toenails (or 'tinger-nails' as Zoe calls them, coined from both 'toenails' and 'fingernails'). my little girls feel like princesses, it's just precious!]

[^^ my goodwill-found quilt = treasure treasure treasure! ]

Our Southern Spring has been absolutely incredible! Days between 70 and 80 degrees, nights that are cool and crisp, very low humidity (if any), no gnats and just a couple of mosquitoes... You've got to understand ~ this is not typical southern weather! So, because we know we have a very limited time frame of spring/enjoyable weather/time to be outside, we are soaking it up and in, almost living outside, if that's possible! Because by the time the northern spring arrives, we will be in the intense heat of a sweltering southern summer!

We have enjoyed our front porch so very much. I feel like a real southerner when I sit on my porch swing red bench, sipping sweet tea (or most times, hot coffee so far this spring), and waving at my neighbors. We live just across the road from the best kids' park in town, and that has provided hours of entertainment as they stand at the porch fence and stare at watch the tennis players, their little chins resting on the top rail.

[my standard 99.9% of the time: French manicured toenails)

Ben and I laugh about it, their staring tendencies/issues/problems, but it really is embarassing. I mean, seriously, do YOUR children get such a thrill just from watching other people they don't even know?? I'm not sure what to do to remedy the situation, because, well, they get it honesty. From their father, just to clarify.

[these two have really been bonding the past few months, and it is precious beyond words]

[enjoying Dickens. for less than one minute.]

There is something about spring that breaths new life, new hope, new anticipation into my very soul... Something so very dear about those squirrel's-ear sized leaves that just popped on the trees. Something exciting about the picket fence that Ben is in the process of putting by the front sidewalk. Something about a little bit of sun on my face that feels just divine.

The spring breeze feels like a breath from the Spirit of God ~ blowing gently, awakening hearts and passion and love for Himself. It stirs, it's gentle and restful, it's inspiring and sometimes gives the overwhelmingly happy feeling of being so alive in my very soul... Springtime is here in the world, but I want it to always be springtime in my heart! I know that's not always how God chooses life for us, but while it's here, I want to live it with all of my heart!

I've been struck today with the thought that God may be keeping track of all my days. And of all of my minutes of each day. This thought was proposed during a Wednesday night service at church, and I'm not sure if it is accurate or not. Will we be able to "review" all our days one day? Will God "go over" our days with us at the end of life? I'm not sure of all the logistics, but I am very confident of the fact that God knows what happens every moment of my days.

Part of that thought is wonderful ~ that all my hours and days of serving my husband, my children, other people in my life are not unnoticed! God sees all the hours of laundry, of packing lunches (my least favorite of all household duties), of cooking meals, of cleaning and ironing and rocking children before naps and bedtime and reading countless stories and walks with little girls and telling them about Jesus and answering millions of questions each day.... God sees all that, and is pleased! That knowledge brings tremendous comfort and purpose to my heart!

But if He sees all that, He also sees all the wasted time in my days. By that I don't mean times of sitting down and resting my soul and body. I mean, those thoughts that aren't righteous, the time that I spend on things that don't contribute well to my soul, the unkind words and thoughts toward my children sometimes, those times of selfishness in my marriage... Does He keep track of all of this too?? Because, well, I really don't want to be shown these things at the end of my life! Because, if so, that is very sobering...

Whether or not God will choose to show us our days in a sort of 'movie reveal' one day, or whether it is to reward us according to how we live these days (flesh vs. spirit and who is strongest), today this was my prayer:

"Teach me, O God, to number my days,
that I may apply my heart to wisdom"
[ultimately, to bring GOD glory]...

~clarita

Happy Things...

... The first glimpse of spring on the maples!
The weather here has been divine - and coming from me, that's saying a lot.

... Being involved a bit in a Widow's Banquet our church did for ladies in the community.
These roses made me nostalgic for my former days at a florist shop...

... making some lace scarves. I just love the feminine lace & ruffles this spring!

... Finding strawberries on sale - fresh from Florida! - for seventy-five cents a quart.
I made 75 chocolate covered strawberries for the Widow's Banquet, a few for ourselves, and made our year's supply of strawberry jam!

... Friday night bike rides through the neighborhood. Chasing down an ice-cream truck we heard somewhere off in the distance, blaring "Yankee Doodle" until the poor driver must go batty, and finding the "truck" was actually a hippie van with ice cream pictures on the outside and a huge horn in the front. To say I found this amusing it putting it very lightly.

... The anticipation of tomorrow.
I'm going to be gone for a little while, because...

BECAUSE!!

I get to spend an entire week with some of my favorite people in the world...

My three beautiful sisters and mother and grandmother [and my two daughters]!

I live almost a thousand miles away from all of them, and rarely am able to spend more than just a lunch or breakfast with all of us together. So to be able to together for a week, in the sun, with all of them, is just beyond exciting.

My heart beats wildly just thinking about this!

Florida, here we come!

My sisters, my best friends.

And after that high excitement, I'll be back.

~clarita

The past few weeks since the girls have returned to good health [after the two-week illness bout over Christmas] have been so wonderful. These are the kinds of days I imagined when I thought about what being a mom would be like one day in the far future.

... happy, giggling children
... happy chattering
... occassional fights, but nothing to disturb the day too greatly

[The Dining Room mantel]

However, I live in the real world like everyone else, so not every day is like that! [see previous post]

But the past few weeks Zoe has been over-the-top happy. As in, giggles after almost every sentence she says. At stuff that isn't even remotely funny. Fits the perfect description of "chatterbox." So sweet to her sister [well, except for when I'm on the phone catching up with friends I haven't talked to in months; then, well...]. Just generally happy almost all the time. It really is quite amazing. Not that she wasn't usually happy, but now she's just gushy happy.

Olivia, on the other hand, is in rough waters with teething. Part of her sickness over Christmas, along with the flu, was getting all four eye teeth at once. Since finally cutting those, she's still been sooo grumpy, and it dawned on me through a talking-with-a-seasoned-mom-moment that she is also cutting her 2-year molars early. Sooo, still working on better days with that poor child. At least now I have more sympathy.

[Anyway, that part was for my mom. It's not like everyone else is interested in hearing about someone else's teething child. But Nana? Yep. She'll listen for hours. ♥]

Zoe has also been living in the imaginary world of being a Princess. This just thrills my heart, seeing the innocence, the core desires of a girl's heart being voiced so unassumingly. "Mommy! Look at me! I'm a blue-ti-ful Princess!"

[She has a lisp, or a "listhp" , but most of her words are pronounced correctly. But she always says, "blue-ti-ful." And I think it's so precious I'm not about to try to change it.]

There is no shame in voicing the question, "Do you like me, Mommy?" just to hear a reassuring YES along with a tight squeeze. Or in asking, "Am I blue-ti-ful?" to hear the pride in a parent's voice in the YES, because parents generally think their child far exceeds normal standards of beauty, blinded-by-love though they may be. There is no shame in enjoying beauty, in being beauty. "Mommy, watch me dance!"

My children teach me so much about God. And about relationship with God. About going to God honestly with the questions I'm feeling. It's not silly or ridiculous. That's what relationship is about - honesty and being vulnerable with our hearts before God. Not pretending that everything is okay if it isn't. Being honest if we need a hug today. Being real with God, like Zoe was yesterday morning, "I'm sorry I wasn't being nice to you, Mommy..." I'm intertwining the various relationships here, but I hope you follow. No wonder Jesus told us to be like a little child...

So the combination of Princess-love and hearts and pink and Valentines's Day called for some pictures. I don't claim to be a good photographer, and sometimes I'm rather embaressed to put up my shots, but you know, this is our life; we're normal, we're not perfect, but we invite you as friends. Although I would love to take a real photography course sometime, just to learn more about it. Any good suggestions? [on one that wouldn't break the bank account?] Some of you "real" photographers have given me tips here and there and I love when you guys do that.

These pictures were taken in evening light, and I just loved the softness about them.

These following pictures were taken on a cloudy day, and I thought the lighting would be perfect. But just as we started taking pictures, the sun broke through the clouds VERY brightly and thus the harsh lighting.  Re-doing wasn't really an option, because, well, my girls aren't really photogenic. It's more like I run after them trying to snap a few pictures that hopefully will turn out. Olivia especially. She'll probably wonder why I hardly have any pictures of her. And I'll say, "Because you were always a blur, a whirlwind of running."

But if she is fascinated by Zoe, then we can get a few still shots. But definitely not posy-posy. Oh no.

On my chalkboard in the dining room, which adjoins to the living room, I have written:

TODAY:
 - enjoy little things
 - smile at my children
 - choose to Trust

So because I want to make it a point to do fun little things with my children, and to meaningfully look into their precious little faces and smile into their eyes...

...and since Zoe is SO into pink [that was the first color she recognized, and it's still her favorite today], and because this book is one of her favorites ever ever ever...

...we made pink cupcakes for Valentine's Day. We had SO much fun! I felt like a little girl myself, and I don't normally enjoy baking all that well.

I am not a baking genius, lest this picture fools you. My secret lies in the next picture.

Pillsbury Cake Mix, you are my new friend. You make baking so easy, and look so amazing. Baking right after breakfast was actually easy, due to these easy ingredients:

Other than Zoe cracking an egg and it sliding down off the counter and running down the cabinets and making a puddle on the floor ["I can do it! I can do it!!" she had emphatically told me], and other than batter flying around the kitchen when she was mixing up the batter with the electric mixer, it was a grand success. She chattered like a magpie during the whole 2 hours, or however long we were baking. I hope she remembers times like this, because this day will go down in my memory as pure loveliness.

[Pajama-clad and morning-hair glory all three of us. I look like I was either 1) crying my eyes out the night before, or, 2) just woke up 3 minutes prior. Neither was the case.]

BUT - the point of this picture is the matching aprons! They were a gift from my sister Ervina, and I'm sure she has no idea how much we love wearing them together. And if I forget, Zoe will remind me. She loves it that much. And besides the fun we have wearing them, we can think about Auntie Ervina and how much we miss her... ♥

Zoe's role as Assistant Gourmet Artist was taken seriously.

This part of putting on the sprinkles delighted her little soul to no end. "Enjoy little things..."

And of course, whenever there is baking, there are always eager tasters.

We wrapped a couple of them up in little paper wrappers, inspired completely by Rachel. Never in a hundred years would've I thought of such a cute idea.

I love white cake stands, but have none of my own. So, putting a plate on top of a white milk glass bowl creates the effect I'm looking for. At least, until it has to be moved.

Zoe was making all kinds of faces that morning for the camera. These are for my mom too.

And thus ends my rant on how FUN it is to have two little girls.
I would like to have 2 more, just like them, please. And then boys may start after that. But I LOVE having two little girls!

[And now I've used up all my picture allowance on xanga for the month. And it's only the 15th. Premium suddenly looks appealing. So if you see me uploading strange amounts of pictures to facebook, it's because I can copy and paste, thus the odd size picture assortment...]

And that's the post Of Pink, Of Princesses, and Of Cupcakes.

-clarita

It seems that a lot of my posts lately have been about children... And well, that's just where I'm at right now - in the thick of it with mothering. And loving it. Well, most days. But truly, being a mother is one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given.

I was laughing to myself the past few weeks, thinking of what real-life mothering actually is as opposed to merely thinking about it one day in the far future. And how having children erases any bit of pride in my conceps about child-rearing!!

Now, I think there is a LOT of good in thinking about having children and what you want your home to be like prior to being there. There's got to be a vision, a goal to work toward, or else you'll flounder. You have to know where you're going so you can aim toward that direction. I'm a firm believer in having a purpose and vision for one's family.

But what I was laughing about was my unrealistic expectations of my children. And how wrong I was to expect that of them, as well as other children [not just my own].

These are some of the ideals I was upholding, not even so long ago. I didn't realize the adventure that children bring along with their little selves!

My Kids Will NEVER. . . 
[taken from a journal entry on 8 October, 2008, wherein I only had one crawling child, and wherein I had several unwanted experieces with various children. These are all actual accounts. My own comments now are in parenthesis.]

1) Don't EVER let children jump on someone else's bed. We had [event] at our house a few weeks ago, and at the end when everyone had left I went through the house cleaning it up. When I got to our bedroom [OUR master bedroom], I was furious: just that afternoon I had washed the sheets on our bed, fluffed the featherbed and down comforter, and made the bed. [There are few simple pleasures in life better than a freshly laundered bed]. Those little kids had jumped all over our bed; flattening my hard-fluffed bed as flat as if I hadn't washed them it in several weeks. Needless to say, that did not leave a good impression on me...

2) Definitely potty-train your children before 3.5-4 years old, so they don't go around peeing on the kitchen floor of the [place away from home], and babies crawl around IN IT. This makes for very disgruntled mommies of those babies. And if your child would ever dare do such a thing, then by all means, clean up the puddle.

[Speaking of adventures with children, Olivia was born in the car under this Hampton Inn sign!]

3) If, at a ladies luncheon, there is a shortage of food, do not let your 3, 5, & 7 year olds repeatedly fill their plates and eat to the fullest, especially when the pregnant lady for whom the luncheon is in honor of [this wasn't me; it was my friend] does not get enough of food, and when many of the ladies present have not even yet had firsts, much less seconds or thirds. [Most of the ladies went to Burger King after this because we were sooo hungry! Due not entirely to the unmannerly children, but also to the shortage of food by the caterers.]

4) Do not, I repeat, DO NOT allow your children to play in the church nursery at any time [especially not along during a church service]. Not to make 5 [F.I.V.E] trips back and forth for books which lie mere feet away from mothers trying to put babies to sleep [which was me] because the trips back and forth wake them up everytime they're almost sleeping. Not after church, for even though the service is over, I guarantee you not many mothers want their child rudely awakened by "monkeys" [I was kind enough back them to write it in quotation marks that day] in the cribs all around them, lights on full blast.

[end of journal entry]

Along with these, I had visions of a perfectly clean house all the time. Really.

Really, what was I thinking???  If that is really my goal, that's really shallow.

Because what does that offer God in eternity? "Well, God, yes I got frustrated at my children a lot because all they wanted to do was play and make a mess, but let me tell you, I KEPT A PERFECTLY CLEAN HOUSE." When I think of it in those terms, really, an immaculate house isn't the end goal. Yes, there are things that even children can learn about keeping things tidy, and I would like to blog about that one day in the future [about how to manage messies with small children - not that I've attained, but just talking out loud about tips that I've learned from other women in my short time of being a mother and what has really helped me]. But this time I'm blogging about letting go of unrealistic expectations.

What really gets me about my above journal entry, is that within TWO AND a HALF YEARS of writing that, my child[ren] has done points 1, 2, and 4 of the "My Kids Will NeVeR..."  as well keep my house at a continual state of crumbs-on-the-floor.

I remember when Zoe was a baby, just beginning to feed herself easy finger-foods. I had placed her in her high chair and given her graham crackers while I was making dinner or busy with something. After a few minutes I checked up on her and was aghast to see cracker crumbs all over my hardwood floor!! Up until this point, crumbs rarely reached my floor. No kidding. But at that moment, I was struck between the eyes with the disturbing thought, "My house will never again be the same, until decades from now when there are no more children..." And that was a very true thought. Because since that day, crumbs of all kinds have perpetually been on my floor, regardless of whether I sweep or mop every day.

I remember when I was potty-training Zoe', and she peed on the floor - not of our own house, which would at least have been better, but at the home of someone who had graciously invited us to supper. Not only that, but her little friend, a little younger and crawling, got all wet with her pee!!!! It was a deja' vu of that instance not too long before [and the same poor little boy who crawled into both "accidents"!] and I saw my journal entry in my mind's eye in bright red letters. Not that I had written it in bright red, but what I had written was haunting me. No, my child wasn't 3 or 4, she wasn't yet 2, but still, I had no control over the urine on the floor other than profusely apologizing to my friend and cleaning up the mess. I couldn't control my child's bladder!

And I've found my child playing in the nursery after church, much to my chagrin... Not just once, but several times [although I'm not aware that there were any sleeping babies at any point].

And just last week, on the way home from a friend's house where quite a few ladies were working on a project for a widow's banquet coming up, Zoe informed me that not only did she jump on the guest bed in the house [!!], but she did so after she was told not to by some of the other children [!!!!!]. Again, I saw red-letters somewhat mocking me, and the "perfect" children I was going to have...

I will say, there is definitely a difference between kids that are out-of-control, and kids that are just being kids. But I think that I've too quickly acted like, or thought that, children need to act like adults instead of simply being a child of 4 years old, or whatever the age is.

I'm not saying the children in the above examples are without excuse, and the model child that I would like for my children to emulate. These really are not what I want my children to be known for. So, while I TRY to train my children not to jump on beds, not to pee on the floor, not to be little pigs at other people's dinners, and to play in areas other than the church nursery on Sunday mornings, there are also other things,
important things, to remember...

... that children don't judge other people like we do. If they see a house with toys all over the floor, they don't think, "What a lazy woman." They think, "Oooooh, this looks like fun! Can I play too?"

... that some of the best memories of a young child's life as in  little, sometimes "messy" moments -
    - like "houses" built with couch cushions and blankets [one my my FAVorite memories as a little girl, thanks, Mom!! I know I made an awful mess with only about 20 blankets =D], or houses out of large boxes
     - or making dirt puddings outside, and climbing dirt hills in the yard before the flower beds are formed [even if they go 'necked' without asking, because if they ask the answer will surely be "no"
     - or making chocolate chip cookies with flour everywhere...

I guess I'm seeing in me that the the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with messies for me can be a control issue. This is one little area of my life that I want to go exactly as I want, even if not many other areas of my life are turning out that way. So I've tried to control my children's messes. I've tried to control my life, wanting my house to look as clean and messy-free as it did before children. Somewhere there's fear involved in control issues too, I think... Fear of what so-and-so will say if they'd see my house looking like a hurricane blew through? Fear of being talked about [like I've heard some other moms talked about] who didn't have every single toy picked up when Mrs. ______ stopped in unexpectedly? Not sure what all is involved in all these OCD tendencies...

But my heart has been experiencing new freedom as a mother the past few weeks. I've always enjoyed being a mother; my first baby was honestly not even an adjustment [although my second one was more so]. But now instead of just enjoying my role, I'm feeling empowered in my role. Not that I do everything perfectly - far from it. I apologize to my little daughters many times in the course of a week!

I guess I'm recognizing some of the lies that satan tries to tell women - that he's tried to tell ME.

One of those lies being that a MOM [working mother, stay-at-home-mother, a housewife, a homemaker, a giver of life [physicially, spiritually, emotionally], a place of safety and refuge for her family, source of empowerment for her husband, a wear-of-many-hats [chef, laundress, housekeeper, landscaper, fashion designer (hey, all of us dress ourselves and our kids every day!), interior designer (and all of us do some form of taking care of our homes, though it varies in personal preference and style)]is worth less than a career woman, or a single missionary woman in China, or.... On and on satan's lies accuse, until we are powerless to live the flourishing life that Jesus offers us...

Jesus says... "Do not live by a spirit of fear, but of POWER, and of LOVE, and of a SOUND MIND..." He calls us to be empowered, to live passionately in all areas of our lives whether it be woman, wife, and/or mother. Listless, fearful, enslaved living is not part of His design for us!

This is not to discredit the very difficult times that God allows us to go through. I recognize, in my own life and in the lives of people around me, that there are incredibly difficult dark nights of the soul to walk through. I'm not saying that in those times we just have to grin and bear it.To flourish is not always to feel vivacious and alive. But true LIFE means JESUS... To hold onto Jesus even when it feels like everything around us is going wrong.

I did a study on the word "Hope" several weeks ago. I had been feeling so low emotionally, and honestly, was going into 2011 feeling like there was so little to look forward to. What was I going to hope for in this year, I wondered to myself? I'm a Type A personality that thrives on goals and lists and future events. This kind of personality has its strengths... and also its grave weaknesses.

So I pulled out the Strong's concordance and researched every word used for hope. I didn't realize that "Hope" was used to many times in the Bible. Over a hundred times.

And in every one of those hundred-plus times [except two, and those two were used to describe someone who is not a believer in God and how empty their hope is] the word "Hope" was talking about God Himself. I don't feel like I can accurately describe all that went on in my heart after that study. But I realized that Life is God. And Hope is God. And God is Hope. And God is Life. If all we have left is God, we can still have Hope. In fact, that is really what Hope is. It's so simple. It's so hard to grasp.

Hope says, "God, I feel crushed by [life's situation], and I want [particular thing/event/situation to happen/change], but even if it doesn't, You still give meaning to my life. YOU ARE the meaning of my life."

This has really hit home in my heart since that study. That God is my purpose, God is my Life, God is my Hope; even if I don't know what the future holds for us, even if I'm at home with my children day after day. There is meaning! There is purpose to my days!

My heart rests in that knowledge. And I am a better wife and mother for it. More restful. More at peace with myself and God. More trustful of His sovereignty... And like all of life, I'm sure I will need to be reminded of this many times over in the course of a lifetime! So easy it is to forget what once felt like a thunderous truth...

Okay, so I started with "My Kids Will NeVeR..." and I end with... a thinking out-loud of what God has been doing. Not sure how that fits together, but there it is.

I wish for you today HOPE - that heart knowledge that God is enough... and more than enough... for today. For tomorrow. For ever.

~clarita

This blog has moved! Follow me at the new blog, skiesofparchment.com

Follow the music room before & after here.

~clarita

... getting into big sister's slippers

... eating lots of popcorn

... enjoying little girl profiles

[this is called "The Big Cheese"]

... breaking out the darling little popcorn boxes 
[found at Michaels? A.C. Moore?]

... vacuuming several times in the course of the weekend,
just to clear away the said popcorn that keeps reappearing

... Ben tearing around with the chainsaw,
removing "junk trees" from the property border

... little girls playing hide-n-seek in the destroyed shubbery

... playing outside in the 70* weather.
Springtime, have you arrived several months early?

... enjoying a fire, not because we need it,
but just because Ben cut firewood again and we can!
[it's been a cold month with no wood. now, on the day he cuts wood, it's 70*]

... wondering what to do about my magnolia wreath, created only 2 weeks ago. Do people just use silk leaves for this kind of thing? These real one are curling and I fear soon to fall off. Hot glue isn't always the magic ticket, sad to say.

... enjoying little bits of nature brought indoors -
mossy twigs and silver spray-painted pinecones.
Christmasy? No, it's wintery.

... little girls that play "Mary and Joseph." Oh, and Baby Jesus. Can't forget him. And please DO call all children by their new names, they are no longer Olivia and Zoe'.

 ["Jooo-THEPH!!" Mary says very sternly, when she, I mean he, isn't cooperating with the donkey caravan "to Bethlehem" [quote] here. But all contention must have been resolved because later Mary was lying on the couch, gently crooning, "Oh, Jotheph, Jothepth," in rather alarming endearing tones. I think The Nativity Story was watched a bit too many times.]

... little girls that love to play princess
[there are wild imaginations around here, just a warning. there are role changes many times a day].
And mommys that love to take Princess's pictures spur-of-the-moment.
And make heart-chains spur of the moment.

... re-reading A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken. One of the best books on love and marriage I've ever read. The oneness of spirit between the two of them is incredibly inspiring...

And that concludes a lovely, stay-at-home-all-but-Sunday-morning weekend.

Here's to wishing for many more just that that one!

~clarita

Perhaps this is a justification post.

Trying to justify a new purchase.

I have this fetish for several things:

1. Things that hang from the ceiling [i.e. tissue paper balls, bird cages, oversized keys, etc. etc. ]
2. Old things. Vintagey old things.
3. Other things I shall not mention at the moment.

But this New Toy I'm talking about falls under the Number 2 category. Old, vintage.

I walked into an junk store this morning, looking for some old dishes, some treasure to pick up.

I walked around the corner and almost gasped out loud. Because this is what I saw:

An ancient typewriter.

Now, to some people, this is ridiculous looking.
To me, this is beauty in ancient form.

They also had this ancient movie reel there, which I looked up online after I got home... Ebay sells it for $300.

[photo courtesy of the world wide web]

I couldn't find a price, so I lugged this 40-pounder typewriter [no joke] up to the counter, much to the chagrin of the clerk, who thought such heavy [valuable] things should be left where they were unless a purchase was in the very near future. "It's an antique!"  she told me repeatedly, in a very meaningful tone of voice, as if she expected me to think I could buy a similar model at Walmart anyday. [Thank you, my good woman] She told me it had been there a long time, originally marked at $100, now reduced to under half price.

To buy or not to buy? That was the question.

Because, see, I had this old one sitting at home that someone had given me. Less than a month ago.

Rusty as could be. It had been sitting outside for years, thus the leaves all stuck in the keys.

My husband drastically raised his eyesbrows when I brought that thing home.
"Going to try to save its life?" He asked me. Or something to that effect.
I wanted to try. Especially since it was free. But I had [and still have] no idea how.

So when I sighted this one in perfect, I mean, perfect condition, just a little dusty, I was enamored.
No cleaning up, just buy a new tape and I could actually TYPE on it.
Visions of me sitting at this old jewel plunking away came to mind.
Also visions of there being no back-space key, and I wasn't sure what I'd do with that. Learn to type more accurately, ahhh yes!

To buy or not to buy?

She bought.

[Never mind that it takes up all the space on the desk.
Never mind that it's so huge.
Never mind that I now have two...]

Okay, okay, so I AM trying to justify this purchase!!!

I was wondering how I was going to break it to Husband that I spent $$ on an ancient typewriter...
I didn't have to worry. Zoe did it for me. No tact involved.

Within a minute of him walking in the door -  
Zoe: Hey! Do you want to see what Mommy got?
Ben: [looks at me puzzled] Hmm? Did Mommy buy something?
Zoe: [excitedly, at least she pumped it up] Yeah! Wanna see it?
Ben: Okay, sure, where is it?
Zoe: On the desk! It's to write with!
Ben: very extremely puzzled now, especially with the very sheepish expression on my face
Zoe: [again] Wanna go see it?

In we all traipse. Me following behind like a little puppy, to see Husband's reaction on The New Toy.

Ben: [surprised expression, jokes] Wow! That old typewriter sure cleaned up good!
Zoe: No, no, it's a DIFFERENT one!
   [whispers in his ear for added effect] 
   We bought it at a STORE!
Ben: Oooooh! [looks at me] Was it expensive?
Zoe: [answering for me, but really not having a clue] YES!! Yes it was!
Ben: Oooooooh!
Me: [jumping in to try to redeem the situation and chattering non-stop] I did pay $40 for it, but I looked it up online after I got home and because it's in such good condition typewriters like this sell for $100-$500 [even though selling really is NOT what I have in mind for my Toy], and the old guy working there said it actually works - all I have to do is buy new tape for it - and I can actually TYPE on it [demonstrates the working non-sticking keys] and it's in such GOOD condition [please see all the good points about this, please], just a little dusty, that's all, and that old junk shop got it because an antique collector died and his son donated a lot of stuff to that shop, and OH, they had an OOOOLLLD movie reel there - IT ACTUALLY WORKS [!!] - that they were selling for $30, only I didn't buy that because I wanted to ask you first [yes, $40 is somewhat justifiable to spend impulsively, but $70 for the two of them, no, so please know I was indeed thinking of you, dear husband], but I looked those up online and they sell for THREE hundred, exactly like the one I saw there!!......

He was watching me ramble, very amused I could tell.

BUT, my husband also loves old and antique and vintage...

And at this very moment, HE is back at the junk shop.

Just what New Toy do you think HE is buying??

~clarita

The term "drafty old house" has taken on quite new meaning in the past few months. Houses in the south weren't designed for cold. When we bought this house there was not one speck of insulation in the whole 1,500 square feet of it. Not one speck. We insulated all the outside walls and a few of the inside if we were working on/tearing out anyway, but the floor, which is wooden with a crawl-space under the house, has nothing. Nada.

Which makes for very cold floors. VERY cold floors. Icy cold floors, when the weather outside is in the 30's and lower, especially.  Which is why I wear socks AND slippers at all moments of every day, except in the shower. That's understated, but just had to clarify. And try to convince all other occupants of the house that it's in their best interest to wear slippers and socks as well. But despite her frigid little slipperless toes, Zoe somehow loves to go barefooted... until a violent shiver convinces her to do what I could not.

But that is why, at the moment, I'm drinking a steaming cup of London Fog Tea. I was just introduced to it by my sister Ervina, and I was smitten immediately. You'd have to like black tea to enjoy it, which I do. I like my hot coffee in the morning, then tea in the afternoon, and sometimes tea in the evening as well. We do what we can to stay warm around here, even if the thermometer doesn't go about 67 degrees. We Husband likes to be economical like that.

But ah, London Fog Tea. Here's the recipe, given by Ervina:
1 Earl Grey tea bag, brewed in hot boiling water. 
1 teaspoon raw sugar
a bit of milk
a few drops of vanilla extract

Let steep for several minutes, and enjoy!

Despite the cold weather, and as chilly as our fingertips stay
(I really am not exaggerating with the interior weather of the cottage!),
we are dreaming of snow.
Dreaming is all we'll ever do here, I'm afraid.
Snow is as uncommon as the ocean is to a land-locked state.
There are occassional flurries, which one almost needs a microscope to be able to see,
but which the town will delightedly chatter about for weeks afterward.

But almost every day, I kid you not,
almost every day for the past, oh, at least month,
Zoe' will come to me and say,
"Mom, we should look at SNOW pictures!" 

And so we do.

I adore snow.
Zoe', with all the 3 times she's ever seen snow, also adores snow.

And since we don't have snow of our own,
we look at pictures of when we experienced snow.
Together.
The two of us, a year ago...

... A dear friend, Linda, and I were traveling up north before Christmas, gaining an extra week with our families before our husbands could get there. We were caught right in the middle of the Snowstorm of '09  in the northeast. A trip that should have taken us 12 hours ended up taking us 22 hours. And we had 3 children, 2 and under. It was a long trip. It was a fun trip.

This was Interstate 95, right around Washington D.C. The roads were terrible. Looking back, I can't believe we made it okay. We drove at about 30mph or less for most of the trip, which made it seem to take forever to get anywhere! But the snow was absolutely gorgeous, especially to our snow-deprived eyes! Our husbands kidded us that the snowstorm was all our fault, because we had been hoping so desperately for snow when we went up north! We sure got it!

All 18 inches of glorious white.

We arrived safely at our destination,
with  many prayers of our husbands, families, as well as our own,
after 22 hours.
What memories were made!!

We woke up the next morning,
safe in a warm, cozy house
to this:

It was a winter wonderland. And we were snowed in.
SNOWED IN!
I had only dreamt about things like that after moving away from the north several years ago,
and here was the north at its finest. Zoe' was enraptured, as was I.

It was MAGICAL!

Seriously, get me in some snow and I feel like a little kid.
It takes 10 years off my face, if not more, and I start acting much younger than that!
I think I need a little more of that kind of therapy to rid me of these
much unwanted grey hairs I'm beginning to find upon my head!!

As soon as we could get ready, Zoe and I
[and a sweet photographer sister of mine,
willing to brave the cold to capture us southern folk in snow]
bundled up and stepped out into the wonderland.
My heart races just remembering how fun this was, and it was over a year ago!

She didn't know what to think at first, not even being able to walk!
Poor child had no snow suit or boots - we were so not prepared.

By my parents' barn, where I spent many an hour grooming my horse
[that I had literally saved every penny for]
when I was a teen...

Out into the open field!
Thankfully I have a sister the same size as me, and I could borrow her snow clothes and look all in style.

I walked around the neighborhood, taking pictures, breathing in the dry cold air, and couldn't stop smiling.

I stopped to visit my grandmother, who lives two doors down, and found her house almost covered in snow drifts!

And a few more pictures of the Zoe-Girl and her mother... The snow was so bright, it almost blinded Zoe.

This week I was going out to run errands in town with the girls, getting everyone strapped in the car, and was just buckling in myself, when I heard a little voice in the backseat:

"Mom? We should pray that we can live in a house where we'll have lots of snow."

She had talked with her Papa and Nana that morning and heard that they had snow there through the night.
AND
we had looked at Snow Pictures that morning.

What's a parent to do with a request like that?
We can't just move a thousand miles north that easily,
just to have a little snow.

But I want my children to learn to talk with God about the things that matter to them,
even if they're somewhat impossible things

So we stopped, and I held little hands [Olivia wanted to be included in the prayer too]
and we prayed that maybe someday we could live in a house where we'll have lots of snow...

A daylater when Ben came home I told him that there had been 5 inches of snow where my parents lived! I was being very melodramatic, him knowing I was fully in jest and fully in earnest and ended with
"I wish we could have snow too!"

Zoe was watching and piped in very seriously and emphatically:
"Mom, don't cry! [that was part of my melodrama in jest]
Remember we're going to live in a house
by Papa and Nana [that part was added by her, we didn't pray that]
and we'll have LOTS OF SNOW!
Remember? So don't cry!"

I burst out laughing.
And also felt a bit, okay, a LOT unsure of how to respond to her!
In her little mind, this is real!
We prayed, it's going to happen!
So she thinks.
And believes.

Maybe she knows something we don't.
Maybe not.
Maybe we'll just have snow when we head up north this weekend
and that'll satisfy her snow-hunger.
Maybe she'll have to learn to trust God
even when it's not what she prayed for.

But that's been our precious little interchange this week!

Ahh, such lovely memories a little snow can make! We both love to go back and look at these pictures. And we smile. And smile. And smile...

One of my favorite snow memories of all time is a HUGE snowstorm we had when I was a kid growing up. I can't remember my exact age, I'm thinking around 10-12 maybe? But we had 3 feet of snow at one time. It was incredble! We were snowed in for 2-3 days before any plows came by our road [we were usually one of the last roads in the county to get plowed]. I was always sooooo excited when we got snowed in, because we'd drink hot chocolate by the gallons, play games, read lots of books, and just have so much fun together as a family!

On this particular time, after a day or so, my sister Jana and I decided we had had enough of being inside. We were going to go walking. We were such little squirts, I don't know what we were thinking, but we bundled up in all our fluffy glory, looking twice our size in width, and out into the snow we went. It was a glorious wonderful wonderland! Glorious!

We headed down the unplowed road, since we at least knew we wouldn't stumble over corn stalks like we would in the fields. But 3 feet of snow for an 8 and 10 year old to walk through was hard. We walked a half mile down to some huge drifts which were much higher than 3 feet, where we made tunnels in the snow and huge caves.

And then suddenly we were tired. REALLY tired. And cold. We had bundled well, but we had walked farther than we expected to and there was a cold wind blowing. We sank into one of our caverns for a while, and finally decided we needed to get back home and have some hot chocolate before we froze to death. You know the cold where you can hardly talk because your lips are almost frozen? It feels really wierd. And looks even wierder. But that's coooooooooold.

We headed back the 1/2 mile to our house, and I remember wondering how in the world we were going to make it. Every step took so much energy, and we didn't have energy anymore. The snow came almost to our waists (the wind had blown some of it in drifts so it wasn't all 3 feet everywhere) and it took such effort to walk even a few feet.

I, being the big sister, knew my little sis was extrememly tired, and so didn't let on how tired I actually was too. I tried to encourage her, and we kept on trudging.
Tramping.
Breathing hard.
Stopping to rest and flop down on the drifts.

We had been gone several hours, and f.i.n.a.l.l.y made it back home. We were wiped out. So completely tired and exhausted.

But we did it! We kept on walking and we made it home. Safely. No emergency rescue needed.

And looking back, that is one of my all-time favorite snow memories!

[three out of four sisters]

So now I want to hear from YOU!
What's your favorite snow memory?

[you don't need a xanga site to comment]

I'd love to hear!

I'm out for the weekend, and when I get back I hope to have
 MANY
snow stories to read.

~clarita

It's a beautiful sun-shiney day in the south. Warm and balmy. Perfect for a walk or a run. At least it appears that way. So far my motivation has stayed indoors today.

Well, it's been an eventful past week and a half. When I last posted, saying it was a "relaxing and quiet week" I had no idea what lay before me!

Christmas is my VERY favorite season of the entire year. I say "season" because the entire month of December is included in that. It's a feeling the whole month long. The Christmas music [my new favorite this year was Bing Crosby. Something about that old crooning made me smile every time!]. The "Merry Christmas!" wishes everywhere we go. The festive decorations. The remembering the miracle of the Incarnation.

[Olivia being caught after sneaking off with the gingerbread house.]

We watched The Nativity as a little family, thankfully being warned beforehand that there are a few scenes which are best to be fast-forwarded for a very young and innocent audience. Those scenes would include the soldiers taking the babies [mildly put] and the birth scenes of Baby John (the Baptist) and Baby Moses [almost mildly put].

Zoe was absolutely enamored. She was absolutely spellbound, soaking it all in. It was so precious. She could not stop talking about it! Taking too much in, really, because afterward she asked, "Why wasth Mary thcreamin' when Jostheph wath pullin' the baby out?" My answer, "Well, uuuuuuuuuuhhh, because it hurts to have a baby, honey child!!" [was that answer enough?!]

When I went into the girls'  bedroom later that night to say goodnight, Zoe' said, "I want to be Mary." And when asked why, she said, "Becausth I want a little baby." "When you get bigger and are married, then maybe God will give you a baby," I replied.

"And then daddy [her assumed husband of the future is always Ben] can hold the sthringsth on the donkey, and I can thit on it, and he can take usth to the plathe where the theeps and the cowth and the animalth are. And then our baby will be BORN!! And it will be Baby JETHUTH!!" [the ending said with great excitement].

I couldn't help but laugh aloud at her, so innocent and sweet and funny. But then after she was asleep I went back in and kissed her cheeks, and looked at her and cried. She is so innocent, so pure.

A role model of Mary. Not Barbie. Not some silly little cartoon character. Just precious...

I was thanking God that night for the privilege of being a parent.

A few days later I was thinking the parenting thing is slightly over-rated, as I sat at home on Christmas Eve, stroking fevered brows, reading stories to two little girls who were down-and-out SICK. It had started Wednesday evening, and I had hoped it would be a 24-hour sickness that runs its course quickly and be done with. Not so.

I will say, I actually rather enjoy taking care of my children when they're sick. The mercy and servant side of me [which remains dormant most of the time] comes flowing out of my pores in circumstances like these, and I love to do anything I can to help them feel better. I found myself constantly saying, "Oh, I just feel so sorry for them!!"

Perhaps it's partly my fond childhood memories of being "babied" by my mom when I was sick, even when I wasn't a baby anymore. There is just something so good about knowing someone feels so sorry for you in times like those!

But when Christmas Eve Day came around and I realized that they were not going to be better by Christmas,  I was an emotional wreck. Ben's family was all in the area for the whole weekend, and I realized sick children meant no getting out and seeing anybody. No dinners, no parties, no extended family, no Christmas??

[anyone else's kitchen ever look disatrous??]

God and I had a lot of "time-outs" on Friday. I couldn't believe this was what my Christmas was going to be like, and had a really difficult time accepting the hard reality. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and it was just going to be... nothing this year??  I thought about calling this post "Tears on Christmas Eve" but thought that'd be too morbid. That, however, is an accurate picture.

I finally made it to the shower around 1pm, and just cried. Cried out of disappointment. Cried because of how this Christmas was not what I expected or desired. Cried for strength to be a gentle mother to my children. And cried for strength to be a good wife to Ben despite my many emotions... Praying for it to somehow still be a special Christmas, to still find Jesus in it.

Christmas Eve night Zoe was not only sick, but feeling worse. We were concerned she had strep throat, and were contemplating an emergency room run. Zoe had been a patient little girl until that evening, and despite the sore throat, almost complete voice loss, and fever, had been holding up well. But that night she lay in her bed and just sobbed, or I should say squeaked - as much as a voice-less little girl could squeak out. It was awful.

Up to that point I had been fairly strong outwardly [the shower tears didn't count!]. A few inward crumbles, but still holding together. But those painful little squeaks just set me over the edge. I just lay there beside her and cried along with her. So much for being a strong, comforting parent. I would have done anything to be sick in her place. There are few things worse than seeing your child in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

We did not take her to the hospital, but instead gave her some painkillers and other CVS remedies that Ben's sister brought over late at night [BLESS you, Sonya!] to try to ease her misery. We fell into bed exhausted around midnight.  The rest of the weekend seems like a blur - a cycle of holding, comforting, caring for, reading to [until I was almost hoarse], sleeping in their room at night with the girls [which meant the worst week of sleep of my entire life].

[we look like a pharmacy around here]

Christmas Day dawned clear and bright. And warm. Almost air-conditioner weather, but we built a fire in the fireplace anyway, just for atmosphere's sake.

We exchanged our gifts as a little family in the morning, which brought smiles from the girls for the first time in over two days. We went very simple with gifts for the girls - gave them both a doll and some little German-made animals, which they absolutely LOVED. You'd have thought we spend our life's fortune, so happy were they. I splurged on Ben completely, and bought him an ipod touch. I had been saving money from My Faire Lady, a few little photo things, and piano money, and he was thrilled to pieces. He's been wanting one, but ever-frugal husband that he is, didn't want to spend the money.

[sick children mean extra privileges, i.e. pacifiers even when it's not bedtime]

Ben spent the afternoon with his family on Christmas Day since all of his family was together, a rare event. I stayed home with the children, and they both took LONG naps which was so refreshing for me. I was able to spend a few hours reading a book of my own calibar, and this quote struck me so powerfully:

"The future greatness of our race depends upon
those noble women who are able to pass on to
their sons and daughters a life which is true,
and brave, and worthy;
a life whose foundation is self-sacrifice,
whose cornerstone is loyalty,
and from whose summit waves the banner
of unsullied love of hearth and home."
[Florence Barclay]

Ben returned home early in the evening and we spent the rest of the evening together - reading more books to Zoe, watching Tom & Jerry on youtube... much to Ben's delight. Hey, on a sick Christmas Day, you've got to do something to brighten the moods!! Christmas Day was actually a better day for me than the one before - I had enough time to mentally prepare to just be at home that I was okay. Not so many tears that day.

My mom is so good for me in times like these. She listens to me over the phone, and I feel her sympathy, yet I always know a particular question is coming, to not let me stay in the dumps: "Well, think of what you DO have - what would be worse than this?" I thought initially that there is not much worse than sick children on Christmas Day [!!], but really, there ARE much worse things.

I could have a child with a chronic illness on that day, I could have a child no longer living that day... Yes, I had sick children that day. But I had children. Children whom I dearly love. Children who ARE going to get well one day. I have full arms. I really am blessed. Even if it was the saddest Christmas I've ever had.

Well, it didn't end there. Ben got sick on Sunday, and spent most of the day in bed. Olivia was feeling much better by that point, so I took care of her while Zoe slept the day away with Ben. By Monday Zoe still wasn't much better, so Ben took her to the doctor. No strep, like we thought it surely must be, but the doctor thought it was probably mouth sores down her throat, which just need to run their course...

[a bit of the outdoors brought inside]

Later that week the girls were both feeling better, but somehow when kids are getting better, but not all the way better, they get g.r.u.m.p.y. Or maybe it's just my kids?? As in, ridiculously grumpy, where we had battles over the silliest things. Not carrying Zoe from Point A to Point B, about 15 feet, [she is three and a half years old] resulted in a tantrum. I've never known her to throw a tantrum all her three point five years, but she threw one that day. We had a little session in the "woodshed" and she now thinks tantrums are definitely not worth the effort.

[When "the sick" become "the grumpy", I will admit my mercy and servanthood and all those other warm and kind emotions that flowed out of the pores before suddenly cease. Clogged pores somewhere. Bad attitudes don't stand well with me. If you're sick, be sick and I'll nurse you and care for you and deal tenderly with you. But don't be sick AND grumpy. All baby treatment ends at that point.]

But one day I called Ben in tears and asked if he could please come home for lunch? I was emotionally and physically exhausted from hardly sleeping at night due to sick girls, and was just wore out. We were still having ridiculous battles, and I felt like I wasn't able to hold up anymore. He was working locally, something very rare, and I needed him desperately. He was a lifesaver. He stepped through the back door. I tried to be brave for 5 seconds, then fell into his arms, sobbing, "It's SUCH HARD WORK being a mom!!!!!!"

My whole Christianity seems to be tested these days. How two small children can make me feel and act so selfishly is scary. No, not make. No one can make me act a certain way. Just bring out what is really inside. There is still so much work that Christ needs to do within me. SO much.

I thought of the quote by Amy Carmichael:

"The cup that is brimful of sweetness will not spill a single drop of bitter,
no matter how suddenly jarred."

 How I long to be like that sweet cup. But I know there has been a lot of "bitter water" that has been jarred out of me over the past two weeks.

A week later, the sores are mostly better for Zoe, Ben and Olivia are both recovered from their sickness as well, but all three of them have begun a really bad cough... So we've pretty much been cottage-bound for the past 2 weeks, with the exception of two outings over New Years' weekend, and an amazing delightful gourmet meal prepared by my sweet friend Linda... Olivia has begun to BEG to go "bye-bye", almost to the point of tears. We are all ready to be done with all sickness... and ready to get out and see people again!

So, Christmas of Twenty-Ten, a Christmas to Remember [and hopefully never to be repeated] is now history. Interesting, though, how I feel as though God prepared me for a different kind of Christmas. Sometime in December the thought came to me that this Christmas is not about me. I don't think I've idolized Christmas before, but it's always been my favorite time of year. And this year? It just felt different from the start.

"It's not about me..."

Little did I realize how true that would be. Because this year instead of receiving much of anything, it's been about pouring myself out of for my little family. Somehow, that is the place God had for me this Christmas - in our little cottage, holding and loving sick children and husband, and reading Bible stories to Zoe for hours upon hours. Truly, she should be literate in the history of the entire Bible because of how much she was read to!

Part of me is sad about "missing" Christmas, because to us it feels like it hasn't happened yet. And I hear about snow up north, and I would love to be somewhere like that. But perhaps this Christmas was CHRIST lived out in our little family like I've never had to do before? Or Christ teaching me that CHRISTmas is about giving to others, even if it's in ways that I would rather not do?

I had been thinking I would really enjoy having a particular older man over to our house, one that I doubt has 5 people in his life that he could say are his friends. And give him a Christmas. Show him love and friendship. Or have a family over from church that doesn't have other family in the area. That was my kind of sharing-love-on-Christmas idea.

But God's idea was different. And I admit, I didn't like it. I wanted to be the strong, brave mother and wife who beamed all Christmas long despite the change of plans. Instead I felt like the weakest of all women, who desperately needed [and needs] God and my husband, who cried because I needed strength and grace, who sometimes lost patience with the grumpy children, who gets irritated by the constant coughing around here...

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever learn. Ever learn the lessons God is wanting to teach me. Ever learn to just REST in His Sovereignty, even when His Sovereignty looks so different from what I was expecting.

[a lovely arrangement made by my friend Bethany, given for my birthday]

I might not have passed the Test of Christmas, Twenty-Ten, with flying colors, but I did come through it hanging onto Jesus with everything I am.

I might not pass the Tests of Twenty-Eleven with flying colors either. 

But I want to walk through this year holding on to God with everything I am.
Just God.
Not expecting a lot of grand, huge things.

But wanting GOD.

That's my heart for this new year...

-clarita

This has been the most relaxing Christmas I've had in a long time. I miss not going home [childhood home] for Christmas, but it definitely makes it feel quiet around these parts...

There is time to do a little bit of baking - some pans of cinnamon rolls to deliver to neighbors, both those we've met and those we hadn't. As well as stick a plate in the mailbox for the mailman/lady [we happen to not have the same person each day]. I always thought that would be so nice to do, give the mailman a little plate of something baked, but I never had. Today was the day, but I forgot to look out of the window when he or she came by... I wonder if they've ever been given that before.

Looks like a balmy weekend is in the forecast for us. So I'll just be listening to songs of white Christmases and dreaming while we sit in air conditioning.

___________________________________________________________

Almost two weeks ago, Ben and I went on a weekend getaway- just the two of us! That hasn't happened in over 2 years, that it's been just us. Definitely past time! A huge thanks to Ben's parents for watching the girls for us!

This was also a late anniversary getaway [yeah, our anniversary is in June]. For our 5th, we really wanted to do something exotic, like somewhere in Europe, or perhaps Antigua, Guatemala, where I spent a few months before I got married. But in between our 4th and 5th anniversaries, we bought The Cottage. And hence, no $$$$$$ to go somewhere exotic.

So we went to Jacksonville. And let me tell you, just going somewhere alone, just the two of us, well, it felt rather exotic to me! Especially when I saw the place Ben had pricelined for us...

The Hyatt Regency.
3.5 star. 19 stories. Ballroom.

Ummmm. Let's just say we felt a little out of our league!!

Fancy-shmancy. SWANKY.

We like nice hotels, but this, we found, well, a little too nice.

-No free breakfast [please eat at one of the 3 restaurants located on the ground floor]
-No free water bottles ["Hey babe! How's your $4 water bottle tasting?"]
-No free wi-fi [please pay $14.95 per 24 hour usage (which we didn't)]
-No free carts [please pay bellboy who MUST attend all departing or incoming luggage]
-No free parking [$15 per night for the parking garage]

So, all in all, the super good deal we pricelined turned into a bit more expensive than we expected. Not that the room was that expensive, oh no. Super cheap, actually. But all the extra "amenities" that we really didn't anticipate sucked up some money.

So now we know. For next time. Stay under 3 star.

But for then, we enjoyed it. Because, really, why not?

We had a wonderful time!

I began reading a book, lent by a friend... I've only read one of Florence Barclay's books before, and LOVED it.

We slept in [no pictures of this, please]. The week we were going we were saying to each other that we were both really tired, and were looking forward to catching up on some sleep. Little did we know how serious we both were. Twelve hours of sleep the first night and ten hours the second night. Yup, we sure were caught up after that! Ready to face the world of children again!

We went to a local shopping center on Saturday. This was a mostly window-shopping day. Bless Ben's soul for going with me! I'm not a bit clothing shopper, as in can just walk for hours and hours looking at clothes, but I DO like to look at home furnishings/interior design stores.

We were in luck. High-end stores like Pottery Barn and anthropologie were both there, among other super-expensive, far-out-of-our-price-range stores. I can just get LOST in places like that!! Not that I buy a lot, but I love the ideas... Like these:

This was my favorite kitchen apron. I'm a sucker for these, because I wear one every single day. But $60? I'll pass (and maybe try to copy one day).

But seriously, how fun would it be to cook in something this precious?!

I thought this was such a cool idea. I haven't had time to make them this Christmas, but I'll store away the picture for another year... Muffin and coffee pot liners, who would have thought?!

This tray grabbed me with all the white, the many tiers, and just the creativeness of it... I'm mentally pulling out my hot glue gun for a future project...

As did this lamp. Not sure where I'd put a lamp like this, but it sure is cute.

THIS I thought was the coolest thing there: a dictionary-inspired lamp. Only $360 for the lamp and shade *cough*.

Closer-up... because I really want to make one like this one day. Seriously, how cool is that?!

And that was my trip into anthropologie... That place gets the creative juices stirring, I tell ya.

And then we went and sat at Barnes & Noble together for a while, which, in my opinion, is one of the very happiest things to do...

Another very happy thing was going to the Jacksonville Symphony Orchestra for a Christmas concert. It was absolutely SPLENDID! Our small-town doesn't offer a lot of Christmas programs/concerts, so being able to attend anything with quality is a great treat!

And the two days flew by... And we enjoyed each other so much. It had been so long since we just had fun together, and this was the weekend to catch up on just enjoying one another's company. Not just as husband and wife, but also as friends. I married a good man.

And I'm already looking forward to the next getaway. Hopefully in less than two years from now.

~clarita