Better late?

Wait.

...

It's 2011?

What just happened?

Last I checked I was squaring up a rotund, homegrown pumpkin on my front stoop, craning my neck to see if the October issue of Martha was in my postman's hot little hand.

And there it came and there it went. And ThanksgivingChristmasandNewYear's rolled by right along with it.

I wouldn't say that 2010 was a bad year, either. It was fraught with good times and tough times, elation and despair, frustration and epiphany. January through August, which seem like eons ago, were spent grasping for a nursing job, whilst the summer was whiled away making-over the greater Southpoint area at the nations most user-friendly cosmetic store. [Would you like to sign up for two free issues of InStyle magazine?] And then came the job offer that was both impossible and incredible in the same breath. Scrubs, stethoscope, and a full tank of gas, I headed south for the winter. Well, three days a week at least.

One thing I've learned in my sage 24 years of life is that things rarely go as planned. Plans are for the birds. Plans are unmet expectations waiting to happen. Disappointment in the flesh. Do I sound jaded? I don't mean to be. I'm declaring the folly of plans, not the futility of hope, mind you. Hopes are altogether different than plans. Hopes are born of God, plans are ferreted out my me, myself, and I. To hope is to trust. To plan is to control. And to contrive to control is to cater to that niggling little part of me that doesn't hope, trust, or persevere. To give over to the bully who mutters in a huff, "if you want it done right, do it yourself!" is to deny the sovereignty of my Maker. Do I really think I know better? Sheesh.

And so 2011, I relinquish my resolutions, my plans, my deadlines.

But I will keep tight hold of Hope, tucked in my heart and held by a string.

Scraaaaappy New Year, e'er'body!

Here's the shakedown of our Christmas and New Year's goings on. Not really, it's just some photos. So, it's more like a mini shakedown.

PW's French Onion Soup for Andrew's and my Christmas dinner. Sacré bleu, is all I have to say about that.

Presents under the Christmas tree. Yippy skippy!

Now, I can't take the credit for this idear, because as you might've guessed it's from the January issue of Martha Stewart Living. It's obviously very easy and it's a nice way to let your tree live on for a few weeks into January without having to feel like a lazy bones for having the full regalia of Christmas decorations up until Valentine's Day.

A bunch of tulips, a coupla carnations, some branches from the ol' Fraser fur and you've got yourself a soothing, simple January bouquet. I threw in the snowflake ornament just for kicks. And because it was still attached to the branch I cut off.

For auld lang syne!

Happy New Year, 

MaryGene

Numbers One Through Ten

Feeling sad that Christmas is over? Here's a few things to 'chin up' about:

1. The brother and sister down the street zooming around on their brand new gender specific pink and blue motorized razor scooters. And the fact that, while they will come inside sweaty and stinky, they have actually burned no calories at all, only gasoline.

2. Gift cards!

3. The infinite supply of gum in my stocking(s).

4. New Year's is just around the corner. Bubbly, hoppin' john, collards, and a brand new start!

5. It snowed in Charleston. For the second time. In one winter.

6. Reminiscing about our well planned but poorly executed "igloo" in Hendersonville that I'm sure any Eskimo worth her salt would giggle at.

7. On the flip side of the ghastly and depressing task of un-decorating for Christmas, is the delight of simplifying your surroundings for January.

8. The two Hallmark driven "holidays" between now and Easter keister: Valentine's Day, and St. Patrick's Day. One's about love, the other's about the love of the Irish. And about how everyone you know claims a liddle bit o' brogue they can't disguise.

9. America.

10. On January 1, the countdown begins again. Merry, merry!

and wonders of His love

I think. Honestly, I do. That the thing I love about Christmas, the thing that makes me cry when we sing old fashioned Christmas hymns in church with lyrics so precise, the thing that makes me read and reread the account of Jesus' birth in Luke to seek and search any small clue is this:

if God. If God can be born to an obscure unmarried teenager and her anxious fiance in a crude, cold, clammy, stinky stable. If God can boldly step in to this furious fray. Step up to humanity's plate. Step out of heaven. If God can intervene. Interject. Interpose His precious blood.

Then He really must so love the world.

I can't help but marvel at His creativity. A baby. Of all things. To come as a baby instead of an apparition or a booming thunderhead or a beaming parting of the clouds. It's shocking, if you really think on it.

There cannot be an Easter Jesus without a Christmas Jesus. And Christmas Jesus came with the intent to be Easter Jesus.

Repeat,
repeat the sounding joy!

O Simplicitas

by Madeleine L'Engle

An angel came to me

and I was unprepared

to be what God was using.

Mother I was to be.

A moment I despaired,

thought briefly of refusing.

The angel knew I heard.

According to God's Word

I bowed to this strange choosing.

A palace should have been

the birthplace of a king

(I had no way of knowing).

We went to Bethlehem;

it was so strange a thing.

The wind was cold, and blowing,

my cloak was old, and thin.

They turned us from the inn;

the town was overflowing.

God's Word, a child so small

who still must learn to speak

lay in humiliation.

Joseph stood, strong and tall.

The beasts were warm and meek

and moved with hesitation.

The Child born in a stall?

I understood it: all.

Kings came in adoration.

Perhaps is was absurd;

a stable set apart,

the sleepy cattle lowing;

and the Incarnate Word

resting against my heart.

My joy was overflowing.

The shepherds came, adored

the folly of the Lord,

wiser than all men's knowing.

Mary had a baby, yes, Lord!

If you squint, screw your face up the right way and look closely at the snow-covered house, you will see a lady beckoning at the door for the sleigh riders to hurry on to the house. Likely for cider, hot chocolate or some such delightful confection. In another dimension, that's me.

In this dimension, this is me. Leggings, hoodie, amazing knit socks from Loose Lucy's or Granny's Goodies (can't remember which), and of course a Christmas apron if there's baking to be done. And there's always baking to be done.

When I went home this weekend to Andrew, Christmas came with me, wrapped around my shoulders and tied around my heart. I finished up decorating the apartment, (also known as getting our Christmas tree), mandated (nicely) that Christmas music be the only music played, and made PW's blackberry cobbler for dessert one night. I would have taken pictures, but I've realized by now that if you're at all savvy at this whole blogging/internet thing, you've probably met The Pioneer Woman.

On Friday night Andrew and I went to the Varsity theater on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, (kind of like the Astro (may she rest in peace) for all you Tiger fans), bought Salted Caramel Hot Chocolates from Starbucks, (recommendation, YES), and took in It's a Wonderful Life on the big screen in good old fashioned black and white. I loved every minute of it.

On Saturday, we got up bright at early at the frigid crack of nine thirty and made it over to Rob and Ann's house in Raleigh. They had graciously retrieved our Christmas tree from the mountains of North Carolina for us and we were just going to pick up our adopted baby tree and bring him to his new home. As we were heading out to the car Ann shouted, "look!", and sure enough: snow. It snowed on Saturday from about two o'clock onward, enough that our neighbors made a really big, sad, dirty snowman. College kids. Can't live with 'em (germs), can't keep 'em from playing bad electric guitar at all hours. By Sunday afternoon, the snow had burned off, but the cold dug in his icy heels and had decided to extend his stay.

And now this. We had requested a "table-top" tree from Rob and Ann, and a table-top tree is what we got. Short. Little. Table-top. Perfect. Only problem is, our table top that we were going to put our table-topper on was apparently too tall for our table-top tree. So our tree ended up on the floor like a regular, read: tall, tree and is more like a Christmas bush than a tree. "Oh, Christmas bush, oh, Christmas bush, how hearty your diameter..."

I'm almost 5'3" but I was wearing probably two inch clogs in this picture. So, I'm about 5'5" in this pic. (OOooOO, go me!) However, if you forget that little (get it) detail, and look at this photograph long enough, I kind of look like a giant. Kind of.

Never have I ever felt closer to the heavens. "Angels from the realms of glory, wing your flight o'er all the earth...!" Whew! I'm out of breath. You know, lack of oxygen at these high altitudes... :)

In no particular order.

The kitchen sink area. Yes, that is a miniature "The David" sculpture. 

Fridge and washer. And trashcan. Ew, sorry. Note, nut wreath of awesomeness from last year.

Stove and coffee area looking into the hallway.

On top of the fridge--fruit bowl, winery, greenhouse, and mixer.

Fuel station.

Kitchen sink again.

El Bano. Eez tiny. So tiny that there is no good angle to show much of anything. Obviously, that's the back of the bog.

Page from a book taped to the glass of an old frame. And a shell. :)

Yup. Blue sink. Blue tub. Black and white checked floor. Awesome.

Blue tub.

Our kitchen table--used to be an old library table, so we stuck with that theme and added a vintage desk lamp, a stack of cookbooks, a photograph of a kid looking at a globe at school (that my dad took, btw),  and a wall map (shower curtain in the kids' section at Target!)

The living room of Christmastimes. The plate of ornaments is just waiting for the tree.

Kitchen table again. (Hence the "no particular order" title.)

Coffee table decor.

Couch times complete with a Christmas tartan.

The view from the front door--you can see straight back to the bedroom. The little tear drop door hanging will eventually have mistletoe. Right now it's just pine cones and ribbon.

Our amazingly comfy and warm bed! We didn't have a headboard and some of the walls in our apartment are not nail friendly, so we kind of had to work around that to get a little Christmas in our bedroom.

I'm pretty sure I will keep these lights up forever. The Noel pillow was a birthday gift from my sister--and I LOVE IT!

LOVES.

Looking from the bedroom towards the front.

I added a little Christmas to the lampshade by hanging my Grandmother's crocheted snowflakes to the rim. Perfect touch, methinks!

Is this real life? 

I didn't have to pee in the woods. But I would have if it came down to it.

My life is straight-up bananas right now. So sorry if my lack of blogging has messed up your morning routine. But I'm not going to tell you a sob story about how busy I am. 'Cuz I don't have time for that.

So. Andrew and I both grew up camping every summer and sometimes fall. Ironically enough, my family went from the beach to the mountains, just minutes from Andrew's parents' house and Andrew's family went from the mountains to the beach, a few hours north of my parents' house. We probably passed each other on the highway. Good thing we didn't meet back then though. I was pretty squirrely. Like I'm not now. Right.

Anyway, Andrew and I decided to take our first fledgling camper steps as newlyweds last weekend, at a state park only a half hour from our apartment. We kept it simple--tent, stove, sleeping bags--got everything in the car and headed out Friday afternoon to spend the night in the woods. (Which has always been kind of been an enigma to me. But whatever.)

Plastic bins always get the job done.

We got to the campground just as the sun was setting--we tried and tried to get there before dark, but Ranger Rick and his Girlscout assistant gave us a site that already had someone in it so we had to go back to their little hut and switch sites. We ended up pitching our tent and starting the fire during the wee twilight hours of the evening. (This has nothing to do with vampires, for those of you who's hearts just skipped a beat).

I built the fire, Andrew pitched the tent. Contraptions are not my thing.

We decided to be super low maintenance in the grub department: hot dogs, baked beans, and s'mores for dinner and coffee and biscuits on a stick for breakfast, granola bars while we were ABSOLUTELY DYING for our biscuits to get done. Easy peasy lemon squeesy. I can't say much for the nutritional value of these meals, but who counts calories while they're camping? You look like a swamp creature anyway, (remember you forsook your nice warm bed to sleep on a leaky air mattress in the middle of the woods that happens to be less than two miles from the highway. And BONUS, it's frickin' freezing Mr. Bigglesworth.), so who cares if you feel a bit squidgy around the middle, too. Right? Right. I love camping.

I know what you must be asking yourself: what on earth is a biscuit on a stick??? Well, Reader, they are only the most delightful, if just a hair troublesome, camping breakfast foodstuff that will ever cross your lips in the pale blush hours of the morning.

What you need:

Biscuits
Sticks
Fire
Critical Thinking Skills

Acute hunger makes men do crazy things.

YUM!

We filled ours with grape jelly, but you could use honey, butter, strawberry jam, chocolate...oh, the possibilities!

Our first solo camping trip was a great success--we enjoyed ourselves immensely and might even do it again sometime. Heh, heh. Although if I had to choose camping or Christmas, I'd choose Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas!...I started decorating this weekend. I KNOW! My obsession is out of control. But I just love it. Pictures will follow forthwith!

Notable Achievements

Instead of posting on all that I haven't accomplished in the last ten or so days, I will post on a few notable things juxtaposed to that blessed and proverbial check mark. Glass half full, mm?

1. Half of the curtains are hung in our apartment. Score. This is an accomplishment because, A] we have cinder block walls on all outside walls (can't nail or screw into them without special equipment) and B] I made two of the curtains myself and I have one pair left to make.

2. Andrew and I paid off half of our credit card yesterday. Cheers to being [almost] debt free!

3. Sometime between the months of August and September I completed 30/30 days of Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred. They were not consecutive days because I was one giant hematoma after about a week straight of killer work-outs, but more like every other day with long walks on the "off" days. I lost just a couple of libbies, but I could tell a big difference tone wise. I think the biggest thing for me is monitoring what I put in my mouth. And I like brownies.

4. Today, I did Level 1 on the Shred DVD after not having done it in about a month. It was brutal. And I'm being kind. But I finished. Barely. So, it's an accomplishment in my book.

5. Chubby bunny.

6. It's less than a month 'til my birthday. My Dad's birthday is on Friday. He'll be 35. ;)

7. This list is no longer resembling the list that I set out to make. Oh, well.

8. I started looking for a Christmas card yesterday. Loves it.

9. I love Martha Stewart, but I know there's no way that she freakin' makes all those pies and cakes and decorations and crap. I mean, get real. But, I love her.

10. For the life of me, I wanted to make this list a consistent and congruous catalog of accomplishments, but pretty much the first three are the only legit achievements for today's inventory. But three is a good number. Makes a balanced arrangement. Adds height and dimension and interest.

Yep. Thanks for reading.

Numbers One Through Eight

1] Although it is not technically Fall yet, I am burning a Yankee Candle Company Autumn Wreath candle. It smells like Fall and Christmas all at the same time which, you know, is amazing. Calendar dates are more like guidelines, mm?

2] My last day at the Best Cosmetic Store Ever is Monday. And there was much rejoicing.

3] Today at the aforementioned cosmetic store, a lady came up to pay for her items whilst smoking a cigarette. Another lady had her yip-yip dog in her purse and it was growling at everyone. We had to call the police because a dude was pilfering fragrances. And a man asked if we had any snacks. (???) This is not Sam's Club. There's no shrimp cocktail on ice behind the counter.

4] The Clemson Tigers won this afternoon. As if we would lose. Pfft.

5] My hubby got us Med Deli, (short for Mediterranean Deli. Doi.), for supper tonight. If you don't know what that is you need to get your baba ghanoush to Chapel Hill and find out.

6] Andrew keeps asking me to watch 24 episodes on Netflix. We've watched Seasons One and Two. Annnnd I'm kind of over it?? Is that blasphemous?? I mean, I looooove 24. (Oh, Jack!) But it's kind of stressful.

7] I'm thirsty.

8] Amen.

Save the Date

First day of work: 27 days away.


(Ann Taintor)

First day of Fall: 36 days away.


(Woodnotes)

My birthday: 91 days away.



(le Credit)

Christmas: 129 days away.


(Martha)

So much to look forward to. Life is good.

A smidge of randomosity

1. I saw a gentleman in Harris Teeter the other day with two 12 packs of Mountain Dew and a bag of Funyuns. Wikipedia says that Funyuns were invented by a bloke named Douglas Bubbletrousers. I'm having a hard time believing that the "Funyuns" bio isn't one of the reasons Wikipedia is not an acceptable source on college term papers.

2. I just painted my nails OPI's Bubble Bath. Ah, bliss.



3. I purchased Tigi's Rockaholic Dirty Secret Dry Shampoo so that my husband and I can take our grungy, dirty, hippie steez to the next level.



4. I'm already thinking about Christmas. and Fall.



5. Bing Crosby originally sang the song Pennies From Heaven in the clip from Elf. How'd you like your nickname to be an onomatopoeia?

6. "Elf" is a funny word.

7. It looks like we're having chicken again tonight. Womp, womp.

8. Why can' we have juss like a salad? (please, tell me you know what movie I'm talking about.)

9. In case you're clueless...



10. Amen.

The Saturday Morning Post: take 2

Andrew is finally HOME!!! Oh, you didn't know he was gone? That's because I didn't tell you. Want to make sure and keep the creeps out. Anyway, he's HOME HOME HOME from Ecuador--and I spent what was probably the longest week of my life alone here in good ol' 'baccy country. Except my mama came for a few days. But other than that I was alone. Destitute. Heart-broken. And not even a puppy dog to keep me company. Okay, okay. It wasn't that bad. But it was.

ANYWAY. While mama mia was here we went to see two movies: Killers (LAME), and Letters to Juliet (CUTESY).





See 'em if you wanna. Your life would still be complete if you skipped them, but if you're at a loss and don't really feel like seeing Splice or some other freaky-deaky dutch sci-fi movie, then go right ahead and purchase your ticket with your semi-current college ID. (I mean, you still feel like a college kid, right? right.) And Andrew and I watched Nine (THEATER/MUSICAL) last night.



Depends on who you are/what you like, but I thought it was good. Lots of chicks in underwear/bustiers, which I didn't quite understand--in all honesty, Chicago and Moulin Rouge were way better, but I will say that Daniel Day-Lewis (Last of the Mohicans, There Will Be Blood) is a great actor. And he is in Nine. His character's name is Guido Contini. And they sing about a million songs with his name in it. It gets in your head.

ANYWAY. We're going to the beach tomorrow! Yippee! A whole three days of oceanside delights. I am making this to take with us. Don't be jealous. I'll have to take 64 walks every day to counteract the calories in this thing. But that's ok. It's vacation. Vacation is code for "pig-out". Which is a hilarious saying.

ANYWAY. When Andrew got home from Ecuador, I made the most American dinner I could think of: hamburgers, corn on the cob, fruit salad, and brownies. Martha has an excellent "recipe" for grilling corn and it goes a little something like this: submerge ears of corn in husks in cold water for one hour. Grill in husks for 20 minutes, let cool, remove husks and silk, and serve with salt and pepper and butter. And floss. (I added the floss part. I think it's a necessary addition). It's delish. Last night I also made raspberry sorbet, (also from Martha). It's super duper easy and a great summertime dessert! All you need is a food processor, 12 oz bag of frozen raspberries (or three cups fresh berries, frozen), 1/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup water; and 1/2 cup whipping cream and another tablespoon of sugar. To make your sorbet, pulse frozen fruit in processor until just chopped, stir water and sugar together in a bowl until sugar is dissolved, then pour into processor. Puree until you've got an ice-cream-like consistency, then transfer to airtight container and freeze for 30 minutes. When 30 minutes is up, whip your 1/2c cream and tablespoon of sugar until stiff peaks form. Serve in cute, summery glasses! YUM! drop a few blueberries on top and you've got yourself a 4th of July dessert that's sure to be a crowd pleaser. God bless America. I would add a picture of the sorbet--it's so pretty!-- but I don't have one and I can't find one online. All I know is that it's in the July issue of MS Living. Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out.

ANYWAY. Now, I've got to go climb Mt. Kilimanlaundry so we can pack, head 'em up and move 'em out. And by the way, only 188 days until CHRISTMAS!!!

The proof's in the pudding

The above photo captures the craziness of packing for a two week-ish vacation in multiple locations and climate types. Snow gear and sandals pretty much sums it up.

THIS is what was happening during the aforementioned nightmare of packing. Yuuuummm.

We had ourselves a merry little Christmas before we left to see our friends and families.

Alllllmost...

A SWEATER!!! IT'S WHAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED!!!

I'm sorry about this photo. I was happy. and comfortable.

The lovely sight of a foot of snow piled on top of Barrett's jeep was our greeting in Hendersonville the next evening. That, and a belly scratch for Stella: we scraped semi-frozen snow all the way up the road to Andrew's parents' house!

My favorite: these evergreen trees in Granna and Grandaddy's yard were resplendent with the white lights softly glowing underneath the snow!

Just gorgeous!

Boys will be boys: Andrew, Barrett & Collin building a "tunnel" to sled through.

Ah, the first taste of success! I love how the youngest is always the guinea pig. ;)

My angel. The snow was a bit crispy on top, so instead of fluffy powder to whisk around to make an angel, it was more like pounding my arms into the frozen, crunchy layer to get it to make an imprint. Still, it worked!

The gorgeous view from the top of the golf course...this was post hiney bashing, so I was more into taking in my beautiful surroundings than sitting my sore bum down on any more zinging sleds.

The crazies :)

Fast forward to New Year's Eve at the Cooper's John's Island getaway: friends, football, food, and fchampagne (the "f" is silent.......right....).

I just love him! Happy 2010, darling!

And this.

This creamy, steamy, dreamy tomato soup.

It's not for the faint of heart or anyone trying to zip their skinny jeans.

Here's the recipe. I made it up. It's good. The measurements are more approximations, but don't let that scare you. Let your taste buds lead the way!

2 cans stewed tomatoes (or one big can of Granna's tomatoes)

1 can tomato paste

1 can tomato soup (any brand will do)

2 cans chicken broth or 3ish cups of homemade broth (like from bouillon, etc.)

2-3 shallots, diced

1/2 stick of butter (you heard me.)

1 pint heavy cream (you heard me.)

fresh or dried basil, to taste

oregano, to taste

rosemary, to taste

ground black pepper, to taste

salt, to taste

cayenne pepper, to taste

Directions:

In a large pot or cast iron oven (they hold heat very well and heat evenly, too!), saute diced shallots in melted butter over medium heat. When shallots are clearish and aromatic, add tomato paste stirring until shallots and butter are incorporated. Add chicken broth and canned tomato soup. Stirrrrrr it up. In a food processor, pulse HALF of your stewed tomatoes until it is a thick liquid-y consistency. Add that and the rest of your tomatoes to the pot. Mix it all up making sure to break up any major chunks of tomatoes. Add the heavy cream and mix everything together, adding spices as you go. When you add the cayenne pepper, add a little and let the soup simmer for a few minutes, then taste again. The heat brings out the heat, if you know what I mean, so go low and slow. When you think it tastes just about perfect, turn the heat up to a simmer for about 15 minutes. Serve with warm ooey-gooey grilled cheese and enjoy!!

Trust me. It's that good.