I've been debating whether or not blogging about the shooting at Fort Hood is beneficial, as there are so many people in the web world who want to focus on the unfairness of profiling, the polarized condition of our country...but that's exactly why I've decided TO blog about it all.
When the day is done, everyone's gone home and had their dinner, brushed their teeth, and tucked their loved ones into bed, it's not about the political in/correctness of profiling. It's not about the Army's failure to identify Major Hasan as an unstable mind. It's not about the politicians in DC, or their agendas. It's not about your political views, or lack thereof. It's not about you - at all. It's not about me, either.
It's about those 13 blessed souls who lost their lives on November 5, 2009.
Drop your ego and agenda at the door, folks, and remember why we grieve.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
I'll fly away
I'm not afraid of death. A simple statement that carries an anvil's worth of weight. It's amazing how the discovery of few abnormal cells in an otherwise healthy body, or a loved one's career change, can cause your defiant stance on your own mortality to dissolve.
I'm still not afraid of death, but I sure do dread the "what if's."
Some glad morning when this life is over, I'll fly away
to a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away
Oh, I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away
when I die, Hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away
I'm still not afraid of death, but I sure do dread the "what if's."
Some glad morning when this life is over, I'll fly away
to a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away
Oh, I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away
when I die, Hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away
Monday, October 26, 2009
Fall reflections...
Fall is hands-down my favorite season.
Crisp, cool air.
Vibrant blue skies.
Crunchy, fallen leaves.
Leaf color explosions.
Sweaters, scarves, wool coats, boots, layering, endless accessorizing.
Apple orchards.
North Carolina mountains.
Warm beds, cold floors.
Blankets.
Chili, soup, stews.
Hot chocolate, coffee, wassail.
Thanksgiving.
Pumpkin pie.
Pecan pie.
Deviled eggs, sweet n' sour pickles.
Mom, Dad, and Eric - YAY!
Cousins, aunts, grandparents.
Conversations around the table, coffee-in-hand.
Road trips.
New traditions -- happy smiles!!
Crisp, cool air.
Vibrant blue skies.
Crunchy, fallen leaves.
Leaf color explosions.
Sweaters, scarves, wool coats, boots, layering, endless accessorizing.
Apple orchards.
North Carolina mountains.
Warm beds, cold floors.
Blankets.
Chili, soup, stews.
Hot chocolate, coffee, wassail.
Thanksgiving.
Pumpkin pie.
Pecan pie.
Deviled eggs, sweet n' sour pickles.
Mom, Dad, and Eric - YAY!
Cousins, aunts, grandparents.
Conversations around the table, coffee-in-hand.
Road trips.
New traditions -- happy smiles!!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Stranger danger!
Most people can trace their fear of clowns back to scary movies like Stephen King's "It;" not me. I hate clowns because of a single, reoccurring event: the Ayden Collard Festival Parade.
If you're not from Ayden, you should know that it is the self-proclaimed "Collard Capital of the World," and each year holds a festival to honor the leafy green. The festival usually begins on a Thursday, and features the typical small-town draws: rickety rides, fair food, local music and line dancing, a collard eating contests, and of course, the parade.
On the whole, being a spectator at the parade is pretty entertaining. You get to see who won that year's title of Collard Queen - In my opinion, one criterion for winning should be the consumption of copious amounts of collards, but to my knowledge, that has not been put into effect. The car enthusiasts vie for the top spot of "my car's hydraulics are better than your car's!" as they roll down 3rd Street. Local high school marching bands endure the multiple-mile hike, all while playing decently well. The old men of the Pitt County Shriner's Association putter around in their mini-Shriner vehicles -- envision a tiny clown car driven by one very large man -- doing figure 8 tricks with their fellow Shriner clown car buddies. Not bad, right? WRONG.
My family attended the parades annually, but the first one that I remember was when I was 4.
As I watched these benign acts parade by me from my spot on the curb, I allowed myself to be lulled into a falsely secure state, and then I saw them. The CLOWNS. And their "Clown Jail."
Oh, they were decorated in festive face paint, and were wearing clothing of joyful, vibrant colors, and were even handing out candy to children in the crowd! Their Jail puttered along behind them, looking more like a UPS truck than a vehicle of doom. What an awesome sight, especially to little 4-year-old me! I eagerly waited for them to reach my section of the street, hoping to be blessed with a piece of their clown candy. When they reached me, lo! and behold! I hit the jackpot! The clowns threw handfuls of candy in my direction! As I left my safe curbside eutopia to reach for the treasures on the street, I heard a piercing whistle. Mid-candy grab, I looked up to find a clown looking down on me, whistle in hand. "You have to go to jail, little girl," he said, albeit cheerfully, while pointing at the devil mobile behind him.
"Excuse me? Me? Jail? You mean, your jail, there on the road? Away from my mom and dad? The one where kids go in and they don't come out? Um, HELL NO."
The specific details of the succeeding events are blurry; I'm pretty sure I panicked and held tight to my parents like a leech on a fish, but I know one thing for sure:
I didn't board that damn jail, and I haven't gone near a clown since.
To see the sunny side of the Collard Festival, hit this :)
If you're not from Ayden, you should know that it is the self-proclaimed "Collard Capital of the World," and each year holds a festival to honor the leafy green. The festival usually begins on a Thursday, and features the typical small-town draws: rickety rides, fair food, local music and line dancing, a collard eating contests, and of course, the parade.
On the whole, being a spectator at the parade is pretty entertaining. You get to see who won that year's title of Collard Queen - In my opinion, one criterion for winning should be the consumption of copious amounts of collards, but to my knowledge, that has not been put into effect. The car enthusiasts vie for the top spot of "my car's hydraulics are better than your car's!" as they roll down 3rd Street. Local high school marching bands endure the multiple-mile hike, all while playing decently well. The old men of the Pitt County Shriner's Association putter around in their mini-Shriner vehicles -- envision a tiny clown car driven by one very large man -- doing figure 8 tricks with their fellow Shriner clown car buddies. Not bad, right? WRONG.
My family attended the parades annually, but the first one that I remember was when I was 4.
As I watched these benign acts parade by me from my spot on the curb, I allowed myself to be lulled into a falsely secure state, and then I saw them. The CLOWNS. And their "Clown Jail."
Oh, they were decorated in festive face paint, and were wearing clothing of joyful, vibrant colors, and were even handing out candy to children in the crowd! Their Jail puttered along behind them, looking more like a UPS truck than a vehicle of doom. What an awesome sight, especially to little 4-year-old me! I eagerly waited for them to reach my section of the street, hoping to be blessed with a piece of their clown candy. When they reached me, lo! and behold! I hit the jackpot! The clowns threw handfuls of candy in my direction! As I left my safe curbside eutopia to reach for the treasures on the street, I heard a piercing whistle. Mid-candy grab, I looked up to find a clown looking down on me, whistle in hand. "You have to go to jail, little girl," he said, albeit cheerfully, while pointing at the devil mobile behind him.
"Excuse me? Me? Jail? You mean, your jail, there on the road? Away from my mom and dad? The one where kids go in and they don't come out? Um, HELL NO."
The specific details of the succeeding events are blurry; I'm pretty sure I panicked and held tight to my parents like a leech on a fish, but I know one thing for sure:
I didn't board that damn jail, and I haven't gone near a clown since.
To see the sunny side of the Collard Festival, hit this :)
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Lead in my lipstick...?
image created by Satveer Kaur
What's in your products?
For many months, I have been phasing out "harsher" cleaning products, laundry detergents, and personal care items in favor of products claiming to be "natural," "organic," environmentally friendly," and "green." While this transition makes me feel eco-chic, it still leaves residual questions.
It's hip to be green these days, but what does that really mean?
Through the Seventh Generation Consumer web page, I discovered a link to the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics site, where you can "... look up safety rankings of the products you use" with their database.
Luckily, none of the hair care products, nor make up I use scored higher than a 6 out of 10 on the health hazard scale.
According to their website, in October 2007, the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics tested 33 popular brands of lipsticks at an independent lab for lead content. Their research found that 61 percent of lipsticks contained lead, with levels ranging up to 0.65 parts per million.
Lead paint was banned for residential use in the United States in 1978, but the USDA still allows cosmetics companies to put lead in lipstick that is in direct contact with skin from the time of application, until the time of removal -- and runs the risk of being ingested?!
We don't have to buy a Prius to be green; simply checking the contents of our lipstick can lead to more informed consumer choices. And that, ladies, IS eco-chic.
Check out the following links to find truly "green" products:
Burt's Bees
Seventh Generation
Giovanni Cosmetics & Hair Care
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Productive Procrastination, and the Art of Apartment Evolution
So many things that I should be doing right now, but I seem to have left my motivation in bed today. Filling out job applications, organizing all of my junk that currently clutters the spare bedroom, repotting plants, finally creating an Ireland scrapbook, taking a walk on a *finally* sunny day, and the list goes on, and on...
Priorities, Heather!
I also want to start a compilation of my favorite recipes, and find a cute recipe box/binder to store them in. Something with owls, or vintage leaves.
In my productive procrastination mode, I created an Etsy profile: http://www.etsy.com/profile.php?user_id=8117677
While I don't plan on selling any items, there are so many creative individuals out there, marketing their products! Check them out - I am in love with Elizabeth Scott's Botanical Jewelry. Once I'm gainfully employed, I may reward myself with a necklace similar to this:
The designer takes leaves, petals, and other natural elements, and uses them to create molds/castings for her jewelry. A flower petal was used to make the pendant above. Too cool!
In other news, Chip and I have concluded that while we are simple folks with simple needs, the following items are essential to living a simple life:
- a kitchen with ample counter top surface area. I have taken to putting Rubbermaid containers full of dirty dishes on top of the dryer in our kitchen, for lack of counter space to set them. This chaotic disorder just drives the two of us Type-A'ers crazy!
- 2-sided deep kitchen sink. Can't begin to tell you how many pairs of jeans I've soaked by misjudging the depth of the sink, and having water splash back at me. Sigh.
- a dishwasher. Ok, being the eco-chic girl that I am, I do not deem a dishwasher as an essential item, BUT when living with a sweetheart of a guy who is too tired to do dishes after I cook dinner, it would certainly be nice to throw those damn things in a dishwasher, turn the knob, and hang out on the couch with him instead of slaving over 2 sinks' worth of dirty dishes.
- storage space! oh my. While I love our apartment, it was not designed with storage in mind. I have no where to put my 3' Christmas tree, out of season clothes, or even clean towels and sheets, or grocery items. Yes, that's correct: no linen closet OR pantry in sight. We have become King Chip and Queen Heather of Basket/Crate Land. Lord help us when we move...
Don't misinterpret the above as discontent; we LOVE our apartment, even with all of its oddities. Like all evolving couples, we're just keeping a running list of must-haves for our next place.
Oh, and a second bathroom would be nice, too ;)
Priorities, Heather!
I also want to start a compilation of my favorite recipes, and find a cute recipe box/binder to store them in. Something with owls, or vintage leaves.
In my productive procrastination mode, I created an Etsy profile: http://www.etsy.com/profile.php?user_id=8117677
While I don't plan on selling any items, there are so many creative individuals out there, marketing their products! Check them out - I am in love with Elizabeth Scott's Botanical Jewelry. Once I'm gainfully employed, I may reward myself with a necklace similar to this:
The designer takes leaves, petals, and other natural elements, and uses them to create molds/castings for her jewelry. A flower petal was used to make the pendant above. Too cool!
In other news, Chip and I have concluded that while we are simple folks with simple needs, the following items are essential to living a simple life:
- a kitchen with ample counter top surface area. I have taken to putting Rubbermaid containers full of dirty dishes on top of the dryer in our kitchen, for lack of counter space to set them. This chaotic disorder just drives the two of us Type-A'ers crazy!
- 2-sided deep kitchen sink. Can't begin to tell you how many pairs of jeans I've soaked by misjudging the depth of the sink, and having water splash back at me. Sigh.
- a dishwasher. Ok, being the eco-chic girl that I am, I do not deem a dishwasher as an essential item, BUT when living with a sweetheart of a guy who is too tired to do dishes after I cook dinner, it would certainly be nice to throw those damn things in a dishwasher, turn the knob, and hang out on the couch with him instead of slaving over 2 sinks' worth of dirty dishes.
- storage space! oh my. While I love our apartment, it was not designed with storage in mind. I have no where to put my 3' Christmas tree, out of season clothes, or even clean towels and sheets, or grocery items. Yes, that's correct: no linen closet OR pantry in sight. We have become King Chip and Queen Heather of Basket/Crate Land. Lord help us when we move...
Don't misinterpret the above as discontent; we LOVE our apartment, even with all of its oddities. Like all evolving couples, we're just keeping a running list of must-haves for our next place.
Oh, and a second bathroom would be nice, too ;)
Thursday, September 17, 2009
In full-blown homemaker stauts...like? dislike? hah!
I've been swapping recipes with one of my hometown friends, Katherine (who is an actual chef, and whose culinary skills make me feel like I'm cooking with an Easy Bake Oven!). She graciously gave me her recipe for corn casserole, and I sent her my version of upside-down peach cobbler. Last night, I cooked both of our recipes. Each dish was delicious, as evidenced by how quickly Chip inhaled both, and the 20 times he informed me, "baby, this is awesome!" Success!
On a less successful note, no word from the coffee shop. Slightly agitated, as I was told I would receive a call "by Wednesday." It's now Thursday. Get on it, folks! I feel guilty for not working, but even more guilty for enjoying the lack of working. Can't get lazy. Plus, mama wants some new clothes ;)
**Update! Called the coffee shop, only to find out that the manager had not even submitted my resume to her supervisor, even though she declared that she would do so last Thursday. Sigh. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. Except for in this case, I can't do it myself. Oh well, maybe this is a sign that I'm not meant to be in control of anything except for menial personal decisions (ha!).
(photo courtesy of Katherine Landreth)
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