Berry Happy

Early morning sun twinkled through my Holly Hobby curtains. Its warmth snickered me out of my bed and onto better things. With nightgown and barefeet, I would tenderly and ever-cautiously deal with the creek-whining of the backporch screen door maneuvering its old age long enough to find my feet on the handcut patio stones. It was time.

Sneaky and anxious, nightgown hoisted just above my knees to avoid the morning dew, my barefeet barreled to the end of my house just outside the garden gate as well as my bedroom window.

It was time.

My nightgown as a simple maskeshift basket, I picked.
I ate.
As fast as those ripe red rubies could find my lips, I was blissfully consumed.
Tossing remaining leaf bundles this way and that, down the rows I would go.
Dirt smushing between my toes like cake batter to my moist feet, I troddled along determined to not leave one, not one, behind.

With belly full, enough in my basket for the makings of sweet milk in my cereal, and the most crimson smeared lips and cheeks of Estill Springs, I made my way back inside.

Muddy footprints. Grass blades sparkling. I was ready for my day to begin.

It is time.
I love strawberries to say the least. And May is prime time in Tennessee for strawberry pickin'.

Above is a Strawberry Pretzel Salad I made last week. The recipe is very simple and utterly divine. Kenny has now named this his most favorite dessert I make. The man eats it out of the pan with his fork in clear concise, clean rows.

Leaving Casey and myself to "plate up" if you will. How did I ever give birth to a son who DOES NOT like strawberries? I have no idea.

Eli's aversion to the berry of my heart...

Hmmm. I think I will blame this one on Aunt Kristi and Aunt Kim.

This week I made Strawberry Napoleon. Yummy. The phillo dough gave it a more whimsical puffy vibe.

And the rest of the strawberries were gobbled up by one sweet Casey face and his mama. That boy and I sat on the back porch with basket in hand and did what I loved to do best when I was a little girl.

Determined to leave not one, not one, behind.

And we didn't.

They didn't last more than 2 days each week we have had them.

Eli Garrett is off visiting Nana and Papaw for a few days.

Casey McGill and I have an adventure planned for tomorrow.

Bet you can guess what it is.

Muddy footprints. Grass blades sparkling. I am ready for my day to begin.

.mac :)

Cause I'm there.

Yeah.

I'm there.

My skin is a disaster.

When I say disaster, I mean straight up, "What the heck is going on, people?"

About 4 years ago, the "age freckles" began attacking my face. I even got one of those freckled mustaches. {I blamed this on the back-to-back pregnancies} The crows feet were a given. This was one of mom's signature facial features...and guess who inherited it?

And let's just be brief and say that yeah, I was the girl that after a night of dancing would COMPLETELY pile in my bed with FULL and I do mean FULL make-up in tact and wake up the next day looking like I just put my "face" on. I had a tee-tiny, small, itty-bitty addiction to Revlon Color Stay lip color.

So Cinnamon. My flavor baby.

Yeah, this mama didn't take care of her face AT ALL!!!!

So for my birthday last year, I made a commitment to get on a skin care regimen. Like seriously and consistently.

I have bounced between this and this. These aren't local, hence the shipping and the pre-planning to keep in stock.

I definitely liked the latter of the two, but find myself only wanting like 3 of the products offered in the great-deal-of-a-kit.

I have looked into purchasing just those products, and SHEESH...like $200 buckeroos.

Then there is the money of it all. I am struggling with that much going into MY FACE!! Especially when I know there are other things that this money could be spent on. Don't get me wrong, I feel all healthy and well kept when I use these products. Well kept. My face is well kept.

My face WAS well kept.

But, you know the money, girls. The stinkin' money to attempt to reverse what those evil crooks, Nature and Gravity have up their sleeves. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

Thus, the hiatus.

Ummmm. yeah.

Like 3 for the past 3 months.

Zippo.
Zilch.
Notta.

I am currently without even my most drastic of backups: the generic Oil of Olay moisturizer.

And my face, is the pits.

I have zits galore, remember ladies?
My "age freckles" are becoming a mask.
My skin is ULTRA dry.
Wrinkles are looking like permanent creases.
And my foundation...

Lawzy day in the mornin', sisters.

I am stee-rugglin' with this.

Kenny: "Honey, what is going on with your face?"

Me: {Thinking are you seriously asking a woman this question OUT LOUD}
"What do you mean?"

Kenny: "You have clumped up orangy looking spots like around your nose, your upper lip, and on one cheek."

Me: "Really? Great."

Kenny: "We have got to get you something that does not do this to your face. I mean, it looks really bad."

I mean it looks really bad.

That's a husband who knows his choice in words.

But he's totally right. It does.

So for foundation I use MAC Cosemtics {Yes, I began wearing this product simply because of the name.} Studio Fix foundation/powder.

This is what I had on when Kenny gave me the low-low on the orange yo.

For the past 3 days I have been wearing Max Factor pancake stick foundation.

Yes, you just read pancake stick foundation correctly.

Cause I'm there.

I need GOBS of coverage. I need no orangy spots.

I appreciate those of you STILL reading after such a rampage of sorts, but hey...THIS IS MY FACE PEOPLE!!!

My diagnosis:

MAC Studio Fix works great IF I am on a good skin care system exfoliating my ultra dry skin and getting wrinkles lubed nightly.

So, I need help.

Yes, I need some information from you.

I want to know what skin care regimen you follow.
Give me details.
Give me prices.
Give me results.

I am desperate here.

Do I just need to suck it up and be prepared to drop bones for preservation's sake?

Cause I sooooo don't wanna be here...
.mac :)

These guys...

...make my heart smile.

Enough said.

.mac :)

T-minus 1 hour 40 minutes

MAC will be in the house!!

Little Miss Mac that is!

Great Granddaughter to this special lady.
Granddaughter to this knock out.

Mollye Addison Casey is coming for a slumber party with her Aunt MAC, Uncle Kenny, and riff-raff cousins, Eli and Casey!

Can I just say I CAN HARDLY WAIT!

This slumber party has been planned for about 3 months. Mama Bear is a wee bit nervous as Miss Mollye has only slumbered one other time with her Papa and Nanny T.

All snuggled up with my boys and MAC for a night and a day...

Have I mentioned I am a kinda EXCITED?!

.mac :)

The Empty Jar

I recently purchased this Apothecary jar for a steal of a deal. It was originally $39.99 and after putting to use my best eagle-eye patience, I finally nabbed the thing for a clearance price of $10.00 with only one remaining.

Boo-yah!



It's found its home on my mantle in and amongst family photos.



For Easter, I had it filled with mutli-colored Easter eggs. The look was so festive and fun at just the perfect sockittome height in our high ceiling living room.



It was noticed and enjoyed.



Then Easter disappeared and left the Apothecary jar void of purpose; empty with inspiration; eager to be tended to.



Waiting. Willing. Wanting.

Empty.

I have struggled with what to fill it with.

I mean there is the obvious like things from here or here. I could even fill it with my vastly growing collection of vintage buttons.

But nothing seems to strike my fancy and hit me with a big, "That's it!"

My indecisiveness is a bit onmynerves to say the least. Everyday my eyes scan the living room only to fixiate on the whopping empty Apothecary jar sitting all high and mighty just waiting to be used.

Willing. Wanting.

Empty.

Waiting to be used.

God's hints and reminders are there for us all, remember?

And just like that He used an Apothecary jar.

An empty jar.

A symbol for so many things.

• the gifts and talents we keep inside
• the potential we're afraid to use
• the heartache we never relieved ourselves of
• the insecurities we all hide behind
• the space where love waits to live

I think there stands a good chance that there's an empty Apothecary jar in all of our hearts.

Willing. Wanting.
Empty.
Waiting to be used.

A space hollowed out by our own pride or fears. God didn't put it there. We did.

The echoes inside each of our jars are, in fact, void of purpose and empty with inspiration.

Our apothecary jars are meant to be filled. Filled with the love God graciously pours into all of us, our jars are eager to be tended to.

And I am thankful for this little space between that He has allowed me to wriggle into each day since those mutli-colored eggs were packed away. What started out as a day in-day out aggrevation over an empty jar with a need for filling, God has turned into an opportunity to notice one of His details I need not miss.

And I'm not going to miss this one.

I have asked that He work on my heart. For you see, my jar has much more room for love. My petty judging and lack of compassion for others leaves my apothecary empty with echoes of insecurities and self centeredness that continue to bounce against the clear glass transparent for all to see.

I thank Him that He makes our jars transparent. It is with this transparency we are held accountable by the ones who hold us dear.

God and His details. He's pretty darn good, isn't He?

I sure think so.

So it is with this transparency, I admit my emptiness with a resounding joy as I know God will meet me right where I am and I bet He's got some filling to help me do.

And I can hardly wait for my apothecary jar to be noticed and enjoyed.

Thanks again, Big Guy. You never cease to amaze me.

.mac :)

Neck Zits

Where do you come from?
WHY ARE YOU HERE?
Puberty was like 17 years ago,
Umm, get that...
That would be the CLUE phone ringing loud and clear!

All swollen and pouty,
You pepper my neck,
With your own heartbeats pounding,
I push on you, what the heck!

I mean you get on my nerves!
You're ugly; you're killin' me!
Your frequent unannounced visits are unwelcome.
Simply put, I'm 33. I should be zit free!

Birthing children does take its toll.

Boobs that sag,
Hair texture changes,
Saggy skin,
The clothes in your closet and all their size ranges.

So zits, you perplex me.
I can't figure it out.
Are you here for the after childbirth party?
Or are you just joining me pre-middle age...
You know, to show me what that bash is all about?


I DO NOT appreciate your hard to pop places.
Under the ear lobe just ain't cool.
Oooh, me trying to "gettoyou" with all my contorted mirror faces!


And you can't just barge in by yourself,
No, that just won't do.
Gotta bring at least 2 or 3 friends,
You and your crop of buddies, that's right, don't you?


Well, be it age or the joys of post baby births.
My concealer never matches that neck skin of mine.
So go on, get out of here, I want you NO MORE.
A clear sans orangy-brown spotted neck would suit me just fine!

[photo gladly withheld from this post for your personal benefit.]

Bring on the wrinkles. Anything but neck zits~

.mac :(

I know, I know!

It's obvious by this previous rambling that I have an obsession.

It is nothing short of bitter sweet.

Publix.

Ahhh, just the way that word rolls off my tongue brings me such joy.

This establishment is, without a doubt, the couture of grocery getting.

It's prices ARE higher.

To all you grocery gamers out there, I hear you loud and clear:

"You could shop here and save if you played our game!"

And I will, sweets.

Just as soon as I receive a hands-on tutorial session with one of my best gal pals.

You see, I am a visual learner.
I gotta see it and touch it and then do it.

Nope.

No, TAG (talented and gifted) classes for me in my younger years.

I was the mousy dishwater blond with the homemade hair bows sitting at her desk totally confused as to why Mrs. Schramm thought I needed to have a slant to my cursive writing when clearly my strokes were perfect.

She kept coming by and turning my paper the opposite way I naturally desired for it to go.

Did she not understand the woes of a left hander?

So I wrote cursive with NO slant and obviously a wee bit thick headed when it came to conceptual learning.

But Grocery Game or not, TAG or not, I GET that...

Publix rocks!

And their bakery is my favorite.


These yummies came home with me Friday afternoon. A half pound of sweet succulent salvation to my taste buds.

They're gone.

Poor guys.

Didn't even make it a full weekend.

Poor guys.

They didn't even get one.

Poor guy.

He only got one.

Me?

I ate the rest.


I miss you, my sweet crunchy, creamy friends all rolled up and dipped.

Until we meet again,
.mac :)