then space began to toll.

I felt a funeral in my brain,
and mourners, to and fro,
kept treading, treading, till it seemed
that sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
a service like a drum
kept beating, beating, till I thought
my mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
and creak across my soul
with those same boots of lead,
then space began to toll.

As all the heavens were a bell,
and being but an ear,
and I and silence some strange race,
wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,
and I dropped down and down--
and hit a world at every plunge,
and finished knowing--then--

-Emily Dickinson

my friend...

Today I got the kind of call that nobody wants to get.

My dear friend and former co-worker, Eric, had died.

He was standing on his feet one minute, collapsed the next.

At first, I was obviously in shock.

I felt the need to go outside, I don't know why.

It just felt like it was too much energy for my little house to contain. I needed to breathe.

I called my friend, Michelle, and we talked for a while.

Michelle, Eric, and I all worked together, and we had a special bond.

I came back inside, and that's when the tears hit.

That's when I realized that I'd never see my friend again.

What followed next was a lot of sobbing, and telling Carlos my long list of reasons why I loved Eric so much. Carlos happened to know and love Eric as well, so he just listened and nodded his head while I rambled on.

I know I probably sounded like I was over explaining, that's probably because Eric and I were unlikely friends.

But what y'all have to know is that my Starbucks family kept me going during a very hard time in my life. They were a gift to me. Sure, we had our own blend of dysfunction, but what family doesn't?

Eric was a 20-something gamer, proud to be born on halloween.

He was the most hilarious, intelligent, awkward, tenderhearted guy.

He'd tell me things like "every time I watch an action hero movie, I ask myself if it's an ok movie for your kids to see." He never steered me wrong, either.

He'd give my kids video games he didn't want anymore even though he could have traded them in for money.

Once, I dropped my car keys into a trash can of rancid whipped cream and other disgusting things, and he went in after them.

He was an old fashioned southern gentlemen.

He'd never give any of us girls a hug because he was afraid he'd "accidentally grab our boobs."

He'd throw himself into a violent wall hug to avoid any inappropriate contact when he's go around the corner at the same time as anybody else.

He would occasionally get off the mountain dew and it would result in the "fun bobby" affect.

Theres a thousand funny, happy, sweet memories that I have of Eric.

I will cherish them forever.

Rest in peace, Eric.

And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being my friend.

I love you.

Christmastime is here.

I love Christmas.
I love the soft glow at night when
the tree is lit, and it's chilly enough to wear flannel pajamas.
I love baking for my kids, and listening to Christmas music.
The crafts that come home from school, delightfully exploding in glitter.
(this year, from my last remaining elementary aged child.)
When the kids get out of school for break, and the freedom in the air is palpable.
It's magic. Pure magic.

We're going out of town next week for Duke family Christmas.
I have a vision in my head of it going perfectly.
If that's a pipe dream, I don't want to know; not yet.
I just want to breathe and take it all in, but somehow it always ends up being more work than anyone could ever imagine. With meals, cleaning, entertaining kids, it ends up being mostly like the opening scene of home alone- where everyone is secretly wishing their family would just disappear.
But I love it, though.

I'm happy for the new year.
I have a few simple resolutions tucked away in my heart.
I feel like I'm on the edge of glory in many ways.
I feel like I'm getting better every year.
That's just how Christmas makes me feel.
Perhaps that's why I love it so much.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Thanksgiving menu. 2011

• oven roasted turkey from honey baked ham (I just couldn't do a real turkey this year)
• steamed green beans with almonds
• corn casserole
• sweet potato soufflé
• garlic mashed potatoes
• glazed carrots
• rolls
• apple crumb pie with vanilla ice cream.

God is great, God is good;

Let us thank him for our food.

By his hands, we are fed,

give us Lord our daily bread

Amen.

can the child in my heart rise above?

I realized today that it's the end of November.

That prolly explains why there was a line at the post office and christmas carols on the easy listening radio station.

(By the way, easy listening has suddenly become the cranberries, REM, U2, depeche mode, etc. And Classic Rock is now Pearl Jam, Lenny Kravitz, Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc.)

I've been hoping that November would go slow, so I won't have to turn 37 that soon.

THIRTY-SEVEN.

That just sounds gross.

Y'all, I feel old.

Ok, I'm being a little melodramatic, but I really am kinda bummed.

The truth is, I don't even feel like an adult.

I've never booked a vacation.

I have no money in savings.

I text more than my 14 year old daughter.

I'm a freshman in college.

I still get zits.

I dance in my car (to the easy listening station.)

My dad says I'm a late bloomer just like him; I think he might be right.

So, my question is, does age matter?

I think a wrinkly neck and smile lines makes it seems like it matters, but it doesn't.

It only matters if you're old in your heart, and I'm not.

I'm so, so young.

And it's just getting better.

Except for the wrinkles, but that's what botox is for.

because it's really sad when people die.

A very dear friend of my family died this week.

I haven't seen him in a few years, but his presence was a staple in my childhood.

They were friends like people don't seem to have anymore.

They lived down the street; they came over for dinner for no special reason.

His kids were like my own siblings.

He was the kind of guy that was quiet, but he smiled with his eyes and you instantly felt the warmth of his heart.

He was gentle and kind, and I'll never forget him.

The worse part for me, it's a reminder that parents are mortal.

We are all mortal.

A few times this week my mind has drifted away to losing a family member.

That's a extremely dark place to be, but it's inevitable.

I hate death.

I hate funerals.

As Matthew put so eloquently at age 3,

"It's sad when people get old because some people think it's really sad when people die."

You're right, Matthew.

And I'm definitely one of those people.

"To me, fair friend, you never can be old,

for as you were when first your eye I eyed,

such seems your beauty still."

Shakespeare sonnet 104

hello.

Hello from the whirlwind that is my life.

It's after seven in the evening, but it feels like 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

I love days like this.

Days when you aren't just waiting for it to be bedtime for the kids, days when dinnertime sneaks up and nobody is even hungry.

I feel so proud of myself, and I figured I might better write about it before that changes.

I just feel like I'm balancing everything ok right now, and that makes me happy.

As you might know, I'm taking online classes.

I've set aside 3 wekly allotments of time and that is when I do school.

Last semester, with the novelty and slight paranoia, I felt like it ruled my life.

I spent almost all of my home-time obsessing over essays or discussion questions.

I didn't take any cues when I was losing focus that it might be time for a break.

I would get so strung out with mental exhaustion that I wasn't even being productive.

It wasn't that I had a lot to do, I was just really slow. And obsessive. And consumed.

Now, I give myself the appropriate amount of time to complete my work and that's it.

I guess I'm learning how to work with myself, getting my grove, enforcing limits on myself.

The expression "work smarter not harder" comes to mind.

The kids are doing amazing in school. I am really proud of them.

The have gone into a school that is approximately one year above grade level in all subjects.

Math is really the only challenge for my middle schoolers, but that is getting better with some tutoring.

They really impress me when it comes to social skills and just being nice people.

Something that I think is just as important as being well educated.

Alexandria's 14th birthday.

I just realized I never posted the birthday tribute to Alexandria.

here it is...

8.23.2011

When I woke up Alexandria this morning, I resisted the urge to crawl into bed with her and tell her all about the day she was born. She used to like that when she was little; now the dominate non-morning-person gene has found her. She's a Duke, that's for sure.
My dad used to laugh historically at my morning grouchiness, and antagonize me, but that's another story. She'll embrace the glory of early mornings soon enough. For now, I just let her bask in misery because I can remember how bad it hurts to wake up when you're a teenager.

I digress.

Every birthday she's ever had has been emotional for me. The birth of your first child is epic. I'll never forget those first few hours with her. I just couldn't believe she was mine. Every time I looked at her, my heart skipped a beat. Having a labor that spanned across three days kinda messed with my head. I didn't know where I was or what day it was for about a week. I was in a bubble, sights were blurry, every part of my body hurt, but I didn't care. Somewhere in that fog came a feeling that the world was finally right. I had a baby.

Jump ahead 14 years and I have a little lady.

Birthday dinner with cousin Lauren.

This is what happened when I turned my back for 2 minutes.

She and Lauren will do about anything for a great photo;

yet, I have an irrational fear of mall security.

This one is from the summer visit to my mom & dad's house.

flailing around in the wine section?

great idea, girls!

Bieber fever at its best.

I love this picture (which is the first second of a video) because it captures her real smile. I also love the fact that she doesn't have her 12 year molars yet. It's a perfect analogy to her being 14; so grown up, yet still so incredibly young. Story behind the teeth: she got her baby teeth so late, and apparently has super sonic roots, so all but 2 of them have been pulled. The dentist pulled 8 teeth over a year ago and swore that the adult teeth would come through in a mater of weeks. On numerous occasions I've panicked because I thought maybe we somehow lost track and they were permanent teeth he pulled, can you imagine?

Anyway, next year she can get her learner's permit. Can you imagine?

news!

I'm not going to miss fall term after all!

The money showed up in time for B term.

As you might remember, I mentioned B term classes are LOOOONG!

So, I'm taking 3 online classes.

* human growth and development

* general psychology

* humanities

I chose online for the ease of doing my schoolwork at a convenient time for my schedule- like instead of sleeping at night.

I'm pretty excited about it.

Landslide.

I'm sitting in bed, eating a greek yogurt parfait that Carlos brought home from work- it's on its last leg, but still tastes amazing.

I'm listening to "landslide" by Fleetwood Mac on repeat and it's undoing me.

This week has been awful. I hate this week.

It's weird how now that I'm home I can have a bad week or be sad without feeling depressed.

Everything doesn't feel like insult on injury anymore. It's just feels like the regular kind of insult.

Have you ever really listened to the lyrics of landslide?

I think it might be one of the best songs ever written.

Oh, Mirror in the sky what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Those are some really good questions.

finding my filter.

I used to never pass up the opportunity to speak my mind. I thought what I had to say mattered and everybody needed to know. But now I find myself feeling much more intimidated.

Wait, does self control feel like intimidation? Maybe it's just awareness that some thoughts belong only in my mind.

Those thoughts seriously just came to me; that's why I love writing.

When I find myself wanting or needing to tell somebody something, I find that I will take the time to organize my thoughts, and listen to God leading me on what to say. There's several people in my life that I always think about and pray for, and occasionally I have some insight for them. I don't think you get that for a person unless you really love them. And it's not to be mixed with control; you're literally just the messenger. These relationships have taught me how to be a friend without trying to be a mother. That's a big one for me.

So, I guess what I'm finding is that speaking my mind and speaking from my heart are two different things. I may want to rip somebody a new one, but maybe If I wait until the time is right, I will have something helpful to say.

I always want my words to count for something.

And I really want to be a good friend and/or family member.

Delayed.

I am extremely disappointed about missing fall term.
Im just trying to figure out how to channel all this motivation into something productive until spring term. I don't know how to go back to being a non-student for 4 months.
I have so much riding on getting my degree.
I am no longer amused by being a penny pincher; it's not fun anymore. Ok, it was never fun, but I had some strange tolerance; knowing it wouldn't be forever.
But now, honestly, I feel like it's going to be forever.
I realize that a 4 month delay isn't the end of the word.
I'm just really disappointed.

I feel like I've been put to the test at every turn.
There seems to be two settings for getting things done;
manual or automatic.
I'm definitely stuck on manual.
Everything that was supposed to be taken care of with the click of a magic cyber button (enrollment, records, financial aid) hasn't come through on it's own.
I've lived through real life groundhog days with some guy named Rico at student services, I've been in the storage rooms at the school-board, I've waited hours for five minute appointments. I've done everything I know how to do.
I just wish someone would cut me a break.

Yesterday, I thinking about the scripture "let patience have her perfect work."
I know asking for patience is a huge mistake because it comes through trials. I'm kinda past that stage already.
Knowing that patience already exists in me, I just have to let her do her thing. I just have to surrender.

I'm not there yet. I'm still angry and annoyed.
I'll try to post something uplifting when/if I ever get there.