The Secret to a Long and Happy Marriage...

At our wedding, The Husband and I asked our family and friends to leave a piece of marriage advice on these small cards.  Due to the distracting weather, many people didn't see the cards until late in the reception when not only their feet were wet, but so were their whistles.  Every now and then we will read through them and laugh.  Here are some that really crack me up...

Him- always say "Yes, dear!"
Her- always say "GO TIGERS"
-The McCrarys

Just remember that if all fails, always resort to the bowl cut.  -Love you, AK

Let love be everywhers -Love yall, Sarah

Don't ever sleep in a bed with Steven.  BBQ

Behave Yourself

She is always right except when it comes to sports -Love, Kyle Shirley

Chicken-wing-in-the-string -CW & JD

Never go to bed angry- Stay up & FIGHT! -Mr. David

The secret to happiness is to lower your expectations (ie Gus) -Anonymous

Good Luck !!! -Brislin

If your gonna pee your pants...make sure its raining.

Love awlays -Matt

Sleep naked every night. -Dad

She needs silver.  -Granny

Listen to Your Mama!

So come with me into a world I very rarely ever step into...baking.  Mom called around her normal time today to check in on me and hearing the complete boredom and cabin fever in my voice she suggested something to keep me busy- bake something.  Well, ladies and gents, don't get too excited- I'm not Pioneer Woman yet, but there is something about using a mixer that makes you feel a connection with Kitty Foreman or Florence Johnston.  It's okay to spill a little flour and eat a little bit of the raw egg in the dough- nobody's watching.

Anywho, I cleaned out the cabinet taking note of the ingredients that I already had from some old one-hit wonders I had baked before and then went in search of a recipe that fit my ingredients.  I settle with Hershey's Kitchen's "Toffee Bits Cookies" because I just so happened to have a bag of toffee bits and ooooohhh how I love toffee.   

I got to beatin' and mixin' and stirrin' and then I got to worrin' about the dough.  "Beat together until well-blended."  Well-blended? How am I to know how well well-blended is?  But I keep mixing and I end up with this ooey-gooey stick to your ribs (and your hips) goodness...

 ...and that turned into these little ooey-gooey morsels that tasted so delicious that it shocked even me.

I was reassured that I had done a great job when The Husband came in for a taste test and walked out saying "You should listen to your mother more often."

Thank You, Chicago

All I can say is that The Husband and I live a pretty spectacular life.  Last Thursday we flew to Chicago with 2 of our buddies to see that old friend I've written about before, Widespread Panic.  The 3 nights of shows at the Chicago Theater were amazing.  First of all, the Chicago Theater, itself, is amazing.  The architecture and artwork is something to marvel over.  I felt as if I was walking into Les Miserable or Phantom of the Opera.  I wanted to slap anyone that spilled their drink or attempted to smoke in the place.  Each night we had perfect seats where we could really boogie in our socks- or in my case, boogie in my boot.  We danced, sang, smiled, and got goose bumps with the music all weekend.

On Saturday we took the train to Wrigley Field to watch the Cubs vs. the Phillies.  JB, from Widespread Panic, threw out the first pitch.  Unfortunately the game ended with a win for the Phillies, but I am now a Cubs fan as I respect their attitude about losing.  "Win or Lose, We Booze" I think is how it goes.  All they worry about is having a good time and everyone was very welcoming to us southerners.

 Harry Carry

 John Bell after throwing the first pitch of the game.

I'm telling you, the place has stopped in time.

We left early to beat the crowd.  I have to get a head start with the boot and all.

 After the show Saturday night, we went to a blues bar that stayed open until about breakfast time called Kingston Mines.  It was probably one of the coolest holes I've ever been to with 2 stages and plenty of toe-tapping tunes. 

 

It was another lovely time where The Husband and I looked at each other wondering how we'll ever top it.  We have nothing but good things to say about the city.  Hope to see you again, Chicago.  Thanks for your fabulous hospitality and your good time.

 I know what you're thinking...a person with one broken foot already shouldn't stand in the middle of the street, but what a great shot.  Panic's tour buses to the left and our hotel to the right.

The Cat Lady

I am a cat lady.  I imagine myself as an old woman in my recliner watching late night talk shows with my cat snuggled in my lap.  I'll probably be wearing a sweater with a cat on it chasing a ball of yarn (thank you Miss Frey).  And I will probably have framed pictures of my cats all over the house.  I've loved cats for as long as I can remember, starting with Blackjack and leading to Snuggles, Boo, Sassy, Spookers, Perry, Pickles, Lemur and now, Cricket. 

I will defend that my cats are not your normal cats.  They ride on bumpers of cars for 3 miles and survive.  They kamikaze off of 2nd floor porches and survive.  They nap while birds make a nest in their fur.  They live to be 23 (human years).  They are extremely talkative.  They fetch.  They play hide-and-go-seek.  They love dogs.  Typical??  I think not.

Yeah, not too much that is normal about this fine specimen.

Shenanigans

GREAT NEWS!  I finally left the house!  I had a conversation with someone other than Cricket, the cat or one of the girls from MTV's "The City" (of course, they do not talk back either).  My brother-in-law's dearest friend is in town and so we went for dinner and drinks and drinks and...you get the picture.  The night consisted of many laughs, beers, seafood dishes, good friends, Jenga blocks, and darts.
 

It was a good time, even if El doesn't seem to dig all of the shenanigans.

Bad Mamma Jamma

All week I've been thinking about my garden.  I haven't seen it since before we left for Edisto nearly 2 weeks ago.  The Husband went out to water and pick today.  He came back with this bad mamma jamma.

Yowzers!  That's a biggun!

Hello, Old Friend

When I was 12, I sat in my older brother's room and went through his cd's.  There was this red one that I loved and I listened to the 3rd track on repeat.  Almost every chance I would get, I'd sit in the floor in his room and listen to this album.  I didn't know then how strangely important those moments were.  During those sessions with the red colored album I was starting a relationship that would grow to be far more significant than those creating the music would ever know.

The music was a bond between my brother, my sister, and I.  Our parents never understood our loyalty to the band and maybe that's because our loyalty wasn't as much to the band as it was to each other.  The band became something that was just ours.  Being so much younger than my siblings, these moments were something I treasured.  Every chance we could get, we would drive to hear them play.  My sister and I just smiling and dancing while our favorite songs played.  Our giant brother tap dancing across the lawn around us.  I will forever be grateful to them for including me and showing me the ropes.

I continue to travel to hear the band with my husband who also has a history with the music.  Now I have incredible memories with him as well.  Seeing this band is like seeing a dear old friend.  It is a relationship that stretches beyond the musicians and nuzzles me deep in my soul and I love it.

Smiles

In my big, loud, lovely life there is plenty to smile about.  We do a lot of smilin'.  There are wide-opened mouth smiles, little smiles, toothless grins, and dirty smirks.  We'll smile because we smell something tasty, we hear some good music, or just because we feel good.  A lot of the times though, we are smiling at each other.  Here are some smiles that make me smile.

Smile...you know you want to.  How sweet are those little faces?

Out-Love Each Other

Years ago, I heard a preacher say that the only competition that should ever exist in a marriage is the competition to "out-love" the other person.  I have carried this sentiment with me ever since.  From the time The Husband and I married I always try to think of ways to "out-love" him, but his genuine and enormous heart typically wins at this game.  The Husband is the type of person that makes you want to be even better.  He is mindful of others and is constantly looking for ways he can help.  Everyday I become more and more grateful that he is my husband and I look forward to the many years we have ahead of us to out-love each other, together. 

In Edisto, he carried me to and from the water when I got too hot.

And when I was ready to go back in, he carried me to the house.

 At night, he'd sit with me while I iced my foot.

I love me some Husband.

Things To Do When You Break Your Foot

1. Watch tv show series that do not require much thought; such as, "The Real Housewives of...", "Cake Boss", "True Beauty", or "Pretty Little Liars". (Take your painkillers first!)

2. Start a blog.

3. Get some bonding in with your cat.

4. Organize your photos into albums.

5. Call your mother.

6. Make a list of all the things you will do when your foot is healed.  (I got this idea from the dust balls that are looking down at me from my fan blades.)

7. Paint your toenails.

8. Shop on etsy.com

9. Whiten your teeth.

10. Make a fun playlist.  (Check mine out below.)

Not as Lonely

On my 2nd beautiful family vacation of the summer, I was preparing for a few hours on the boat when one of the stairs gave way causing my foot to break. Stupid, right? It would be such a better story if it involved the words "discoteca.mexico.fog machine." But unfortunately, my story involves loose board, Edisto, and rusty nail. Yeah, obviously not as cool. I had been keeping my niece at the beach when all this took place. Lauren is 3 and my side kick. She worried about me after my tumble down the steps so she crawled in the bed with me and played her Leapster until her mom got there to take her home. I hated to see her leave.

I spent much of the remainder of my vacation on the couch watching the World Cup feeling a little lonely. Not lonely because of the lack of people around, no. Lonely because I wasn't able to hop up and do the things that everyone else were doing. It took me a while to balance on one leg, gather my crutches, and hobble along.

For the holiday weekend my sister, her husband, and their two children went to my parents' house. Today, my mom called to tell me that she was in the process of making a bag of ice for Lauren while she had her foot propped up on pillows in the den. She said she was hurt like her Emmie (that's me) and needed an ice bag. I pictured her set up like a little princess in my parents' den eating a bag of Lucky Charms and sippin' a Capri Sun and suddenly I didn't feel quite as lonely.

Giving It a Shot

I've always loved to write. I've always wanted to be a great writer. I've always had this beautiful lyrical language in my head and then I try to put it down in sentences and it's nothing that I had envisioned. Since I was 11 years old I have kept a journal, and yet I still don't feel that the wonderful moments I experience sound as amazing as they feel to me. I don't write in my journal too often anymore and when I do I become exhausted trying to make my writing perfect. Being sure to not leave out a single detail. Unfortunately, these memories are now being lost and I have a life that is worth writing about. So, here I am. I am going to give it a shot. Even if I may not be the most talented writer, I will write about my life that I love so very much and the interesting stories it holds. Enjoy.