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Today I celebrate 15 years married to my best friend. My best friend who upon first meeting me decided that I must be shallow due to the fact that my hair was frizzy. Disclaimer: It was still cool to get perms then AND it was a particularly humid day. But that's okay. I thought he was way too quiet. Of course, MY initial conclusions were correct, but he found out pretty quickly that I was indeed quite deep. He had such a reserved diplomatic presence that I spent much of those early days trying very hard to elicit some kind of over the top reaction from him. It never happened.
But here is what I can tell you today: I am married to a man whose logical mind and calm nature I have come to rely on. A man who has made many a sacrifice to help me see my dreams come to fruition. A man who has walked with me through difficult times of healing, has believed big things for me, encouraged me, been a rock for me....one who has seen the best of me, and the ugly of me and still somehow counts it a blessing to sit across a table from me 15 years later. The kind of person about whom you say to yourself, "I need more years with you." Here's to 15 more!
Update: he is significantly less quiet now (as a result of all this time with me, I'm certain). I, gratefully, stopped getting perms about 16 years ago and have sworn them off EVEN if they come back in fashion.
More Confessions: I have been a graphics professional for about the last fourteen years, first in photography, then graphic production. I cannot draw. I am not a conceptual artist; my mind is far too systematic for such a skill. What I do have is a good eye. It has aided me in photography. And as far as graphic layout, I can put things together well as long as I don't have to create every element (excluding the photos, of course) from scratch. These facts are why my creative juices flow more in the "arts and crap" (as really talented graphic designers like to call it) direction as opposed to say taking a blank canvas and painting a masterpiece.On the order of confessions, I also can't sew. But I love fashion. So since I cannot sew OR draw, I have found other ways to "create" fashion (examples of which will surely show up in other posts). One of the ways I have managed to do this is by becoming a master at folding and gluing. It would take an expert to detect my deception.
On that order, my dad (who bussed inner-city kids to church) asked me to make something special for a group of girls who were finishing the Missionettes program. For those of you that don't know, Missionettes is the Assembly of God equivalent to Girl Scouts (badges, group activities, etc, based around Bible study). The attached pictures show the idea I came up with after much thought and probably too much Martha Stewart.
The girls loved them, and because my dad felt compelled to brag on me, I even managed to sell some. Bonus for me, since it gave me an excuse to make some more. Turns out they make great centerpieces for little girls' birthday parties.... I don't have any children yet, but I foresee a lot of afternoons making dried flower dolls when (and if) I have a daughter.
The announcement of a new neighbor moving into the 'hood usually looks something like this:
Mrs. Weaver's announcement was an entirely different proposition altogether....
It was a nice peaceful Saturday: I was working on the computer, hubby was in the kitchen reading, and my Beubie (my cat) was doing what she does best, sleeping on the couch. When what to our wondering ears did alight but the sound of an unfamiliar voice emanating from the living room, a voice calling out for "Anne." Now, there is of course no one living here by that name, nor anyone on either side of our families with that name. By this point, I have joined my freaked out Beubie (who, in full disclosure, is scared of everyone but the two of us) in the hallway to determine the origin of this mysterious voice standing IN MY LIVING ROOM.
Old age is mystifying in terms of where lucidity shows up. Mrs. Weaver knew her name, and her address, but did not at all know that she was in the wrong house, not even after looking around. This same dance didn't even seem familiar later, when she returned to close the gate behind my husband after he pulled into the garage from work. He asked her if she needed help, and she informed him that she lived here. He, almost feeling mean, informed her it was indeed he that lived here, then escorted her back to what I'm sure will be a place he frequents.
Supposedly there is something to be learned from every experience. Here is what I have learned: I shall no longer keep the screen door unlocked no matter how much the inviting breezes tempt me to do so. God bless Mrs. Weaver. A sweet, fortunately harmless new neighbor. I only wish her mind would let her realize she moved into the neighborhood, not our house. I half expect her to make a disconcerting appearance in a bed or on the couch!
So here goes my first blog...
I must start with a confession: I have been far more interested in making it pretty than in actually writing something. (The writing part admittedly has seemed daunting.) I have quite literally created 12 different headers (in various color palettes, of course!), and was prepared to put off the writing even longer while I came up with a name for myself and created a graphic signature (which I still don't have...). But anyway, here I am.
I have been inspired to blog by Ruby Red Slippers, a friend from high school I have recently reconnected with, and her beautiful blog, www.lionstigersandboysohmy.blogspot.com/
Which is actually the segway into the topic of this, my first blog.
RRS recently had a book giveaway on her blog. Two Emily Giffin books, "Something Borrowed," and "Something Blue." A pairing of books detailing the splintering of a friendship, with each book representing one friend's perspective. I lost the giveaway, but was intrigued by the concept of the books.
Certainly in life friendships change, sometimes by geography or sometimes because our lives shoot off in different directions. Then there are others that are simply (or quite complicatedly) lost. In my life I have "lost" two friends. One I grieved for quite some time. To this day, I still consider this friendship to be one of great impact in my life. I would gladly welcome her back into my life at any time. The other loss turned out to be an immensely freeing blessing in disguise. A loss God used to finger something in my life that needed some work. The loss of these friendships is what prompted my interest in these books.
So, after losing the giveaway, I headed to Borders in Birmingham (my favorite bookstore) to read a few chapters of the books to see if I liked them. I COULDN'T PUT THEM DOWN. So I bought them and then headed to Godiva to make the night complete.
Oh, yeah, did I mention that while heading in to buy dangerously caloric chocolate, I saw my trainer walking in the mall outside the Godiva entrance? Did I ALSO mention that I was simultaneously dropping and picking up coins while heading into the place of my iniquity? NO WAY he could miss me. EGAD!
Anyway, I'm off to a perfect night of reading, a spot of English Tea, and fabulous chocolate!
Today I celebrate 15 years married to my best friend. My best friend who upon first meeting me decided that I must be shallow due to the fact that my hair was frizzy. Disclaimer: It was still cool to get perms then AND it was a particularly humid day. But that's okay. I thought he was way too quiet. Of course, MY initial conclusions were correct, but he found out pretty quickly that I was indeed quite deep. He had such a reserved diplomatic presence that I spent much of those early days trying very hard to elicit some kind of over the top reaction from him. It never happened.
