Fall Time Fun

There are many things I love about living in a place with four distinctive seasons.

But one of my favorite activities of the fall-time is to take my kids trick-or-treating.

Growing up my Dad would take us out on Halloween and my Mom would stay at home and pass out candy. She still enjoys being prepared for the passing out of candy.

Since I grew up in the desert, there were only a handful of times that I had to worry about being cold.

I'll never forget that year back in the late 80's when my youngest brother was a California Raisen for Halloween. His costume was a brownish-black garbage bag, some white gloves, and a pair of dark sunglasses. It was awesome!

My Dad, being an artist and quite creative, could whip up awesome costumes with things we had on hand in the house.

All that to say, The Raisin looked great, but by the end of the night he was so warm under all that plastic he was glad to take it off.

I was reminded of this two years ago when we were stationed in Almost Mexico (a phrase stolen from Stephanie J!). I took the kids out to trick-or-treat while wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

You can imagine the contrast when I experienced my first Halloween here in North Carolina. I walked in a neighborhood with real leaves crunching under my feet, the chill air blowing gently on my face. The kids were in costumes on top of many layers of clothing. But what surprised me most of all was the smell of fall in the air.

I was shocked that the air actually smelled of fall-time. I love that....

Seriously, its like the books I read when I was young...only I get to walk within the pages. Amazing.

What is you favorite part of the fall season. If fall is not your thing: what was your favorite costume as a kid?

Happy Friday!

Headed East

By the time this posts, we should be headed toward New Mexico.

I had so much in my head as to what I would write about this last day as a resident of this warm, desert town. I held in the floodgates that I won't be opened until I have the luxury of time on my own. Most likely that time will come on that first five minutes on the road, when the morning is still dark and the stars can be my cover.

I don't often like to cry in front of others when the grief is my own.

And yet, I know this isn't a goodbye forever. This truly is a "see you soon", since plans for a summer trip are already in the works.

I also look forward with great anticipation to our North Carolina home. It's smells, it's seasons, it's beautiful, soothing accent. I look forward to the greenery, and of course, above all things, seeing the friends we haven't seen face to face in 18 months.

We have much to look forward to. Much to be happy about!

I may be taking a blogging break while we are on the road. But then again, maybe not. We'll see...

I did want to tell you this funny story...

Upon packing our traveling bags I gave the kids list of what to pack, with strict instructions to pack one pair of tennis shoes and one pair of flip-flops. They weren't to pack anything extra, just what was on the list.

Last night as I was rechecking bags (we were at my mom's house for the night) and getting things ready to load in the car, I noticed that The Girl not only managed to pack flip-flops and tennis shoes, but stuffed in the bottom of the bag, were also a pair of brown sandals, sparkly pink slip on sandals and a sparkly handbag. She just couldn't be limited to two pairs of shoes, and she "always uses the sparkly handbag when she uses the sparkly shoes".

You know, that girl is a lot like her mother. I couldn't stick to my own list either...

All right, time to sign off on my last blog post west of the Mississippi...

To my Arizonian peeps: I miss you already!

"Say good things about me, Cuz I've gone to Carolina..."-James Taylor


La Vida Dulce

Guitar Playing Packing Man

When Willie came in on Tuesday he asked if we had anything listed on our High Value Inventory. I told him that the only thing that I had was my china and crystal stemware and my classical guitar. He asked to see where these items were while he off handed said, " I play a little classical guitar."

I walked him into the bedroom where I keep my guitar in it's case. The poor thing was badly out of tune since I haven't really picked it up in several months. 

I pulled the guitar out and handed it to him. He admired it by looking inside it, commented about it's make and then cradled it up into his right hand to play a chord with his left.

And suddenly it was very obvious that this man was an artist.

I play a little classical guitar: meaning I know a few chords and can get by.

Willie plays a little classical guitar: meaning he plays all different types of guitar. Very well, I might add. 

He only played a few chords on Tuesday before he put it down. So I blurted out "I'll buy you a sandwich this afternoon if you play a little more." Because I am not above bribery.

The truth is we always feed our packers and make sure they have plenty of water and Gatorade to drink. Of course, Willie didn't now this. ;)

So I spent the whole day wanting to ask him if he really would play something for me, but he left and there really wasn't a good part of he day to ask.

But yesterday, I subtly made it known that I did not want that guitar packed until he played, and finally I was rewarded; everything was packed and he played my guitar before packing her up. 

He played for less than ten minutes. From show tunes to a lovely Latin Samba. Even a little bit of the blues. 

But he started with the video below. I don't know how he knew that this was one of my favorite songs growing up, but it was the perfect piece to play.

The back ground noise is the other packers taping up boxes. And the quality of the speakers on my camera make this sound so much less than what it was.

La Vida Dulce!

Burning Rubber

Actually, I am not burning rubber, but the packers who are packing up all nearly finished, and it's just now past 10am. By far, the quickest pack job we've had by far.

Of course when we moved here we got rid of half of what we owned because our house was 500 sq ft. smaller. Why we did that, I'm not sure, especially since we ended up with two completely empty rooms.

I must have been having one of my "cleaning fits".

Anyway, I am not actually at my house right now, but am waiting for the fine people at Discount Tires to replace my two front tires.

Uh, hello? 316 dollars didn't feel so discount, but what's a girl to do? And they aren't burning rubber. And I hate the smell of tires. But I'll stop complaining now.

I am hoping that they will hurry because I have to get home to say goodbye to Willie, our head packer. I hope to blog about him tomorrow because he is a neat guy in his fifties, with amazing talent.

So, that's today's news at the La Vida Household!

I hope you are having a fine Wednesday!

(Can you believe it's September? I went to the Starbucks this morning and they had their Pumpkin Latte posters all over the place! Let the fall begin!)

Coffee and Conversation

Last night Stephanie J and I met to have a coffee and tea together. 

I met Stephanie through ladies bible study at the church we attended.  

One of the things about living in a military town is that I have had the opportunity to meet other military wives. Steph is one of them, and her family moved here around the same time we did.

We met at the local coffee shop where, unbeknownst to us, a man was scheduled to talk about how he had travelled around the world twice and wrote a book about it.  As we began to settle into our table to chat, this man stood up and started talking to the crowd that gathered in the shop.  I tried to talk quietly over what he was saying, but in the end we picked up our stuff and found chairs outside.

We talked of everything from family to finances, and many things in between. I was sad to hear the lock turn on the coffee shop, a warning that our evening was coming to an end.

Living a nomadic military life is one that is sometimes difficult. When you move from place to place it's hard; hard on the family who is moving, and hard for those who get left behind. 

But saying goodbye to Stephanie was different, because she has done this before. As an often moving, husband supporting, military wife, she has walked in my shoes. When we said goodbye, I hugged her twice, because I know she was thinking the same things as myself: Saying goodbye is the hardest part of military life.  

As I drove home I was thinking about that man who had written a book because he had travelled the world (twice). He was telling a room full of people how he had "discussed life with Masai tribesman, drank tea with Beijing rickshaw drivers, learned Buddhism from a monk in the Indian Himilayas."  How great it is that he was able to talk with people around the world, and come home to write a book. But how much better is it that God saw to it to remove me from my own comfort zone 13 years ago and send me around the country to discuss life with real women, to drink coffee with sweet gals, and learn from each one through laughter and tears; and then, at the end of the day I get to go home knowing that these women are my friends.

There is not enough paper in the world to write a book...His life may have been exciting, but it couldn't possibly be as rich as mine.

This morning I am going to visit two gals whom I love just as much as the friends I write about on this blog (both this week and in the past!): my hair stylist, Melissa, and my anesthetist (she gives me facials), Elizabeth. 

Today I get my last beauty treatment in the desert and I am REALLY looking forward to it.

I could use some prayer though...last night while talking to Stephanie I could feel my body starting to ache like I was trying to catch something. This morning I don't feel any better. This is not a good time for me to be getting sick!  If you are of the praying type, please send one up for me!

La Vida Dulce!

PS: If you haven't clicked over yet, Stephanie also has a blog! Would you go over and tell her hello!

Surprise!

These are the Gym Rats.  

For the last 18 months I have worked out three mornings a week with (starting from your left) K, Kn, and P.  

They are a really fun group of gals and just happen to live in my neighborhood. The Gym isn't really close to us, so I was shocked to find out that we all live within a quarter mile of each other.

K is really someone who brings people together. As a matter of fact I remember the day she came up to me in the gym and gave me a compliment about my legs.  Then she invited me to lunch and the rest is history. 

I'm sort of like a cat: stroke my ego and feed me some lunch, and, for all intents and purposes, your stuck with me.

K and her family are planning to visit NC in the spring and she asked if we might get the to families together so that our husbands could actually meet. What I didn't know is that she had planned a surprise Good Bye party/bbq Sunday evening. It was so fun!

The picture below best describes how things look when we are at the gym: Laughing! These gals have made working out F.U.N!  

The Ladies Who Lunch...uh, Dinner?

This weekend was really fun. I have had the opportunity to spend time with people I care about; with whom I have enjoyed friendship.  

This week, I will be posting about these gals. 

Today we start with Darcie.

We went to dinner together on Friday night and checked out a new restaurant in our little neighborhood. The food was good, but the best part of evening was when we both got carded! After dinner, we weren't quite ready to go home yet, so we drove over a coffee shop that had live music playing in the parking lot. We were both quite full from our dinner, and hadn't any desire for dessert or hot beverages at eight in the evening so we rolled down the windows of her car and talked in the parking lot, while listening to the music in the background. It was a very happy evening.

I have not known Darcie very long, and yet I feel very comfortable with her. Maybe it's because we are like minded in many ways. Maybe it's because we share a birthday (although she's a spring chick!). Or maybe it's because when it comes to "girls night," we aren't high maintenance; whatever it is, I am so glad that this crazy little blog was able to bring friendship in real and tangible way!

La Vida Dulce!

Sunset Picnic

I had really wanted to drive out to a National Monument in the desert and get some sunset pictures. 

The Mister tried to get home as quickly as he could so we wouldn't miss the sunset, and I tried to have our standard picnic dinner (fresh french bread, cheese, strawberries, and grapes) packed and ready.

Unfortunately, we missed the sunset before we could get high enough in the desert to get any good shots. 

We did, however, get to see something I have NEVER seen in the wild before. Actually, I am grateful I haven't seen this in the wild. But last night in the safety of our mini-van I was thrilled to see him:

This was a 2.5 ft long Diamondback Rattlesnake that was relaxing on the side of the road. This road is a loop that only goes in one direction so we were able to drive around him without disturbing him, and yet get within a foot him so I could lean out the passenger window and get these close-ups! (thank in part to the zoom lense)

It reminded me of when I was kid and my mom would pile my brothers and I into her 87 Toyota Celica convertible after a monsoon rain to go "tarantula hunting." Male tarantulas go out after a rain to find love, so we would go out to see what we could see. Of course the male arachnids are really huge, and some nights we would see many, many spiders as we drove through the desert.

Last night we also saw a ton of lizards (they were too fast for pictures) and we also saw a deer. 

Although we missed the best of the sunset, we saw a really good show!

La Vida Dulce!

 

It Happened Last Night...

...the event all desert dwellers wait for.

A strange phenomena happens here when the temperatures never gets below 100, and land is especially parched.

Desert dwellers begin to dream of rain and moisture. Relief. We talk about it. Dream about it. Live for it.

It happened last night. After the sun had set, and the evening darker than usual.

The big clouds came that billow and tease. Often it's so dry that you can see rain falling but it evaporates before it hits the ground, teasing us with the delicious smell that comes from moisture in the desert. Not last night.

We watched the lightening as a little squall rolled in from south. It's a show I have never seen else where. Lightening that doesn't just strike from sky to ground, but plays in the clouds like children on sugar.

The wind started to kick up with a cool, comforting, feel.

We piled in the car and got some ice cream. Then we went to our local park, where the kids ran around as if they had never been outside.

The Boy, who is a country boy at heart, ran around with his hands in the air, catching large droplets of water on his face and saying, "I'm actually COLD! I'm actually COLD!"

The Girl got back into the car. Lightening, even when it still far away can be scary when you're eight.  I know, I remember.

On the other side of the park stand the baseball fields, lit up by giant flood lights. The rain, began to fall heavily on that side of the park. We could see the rain drops shining under the lights. We remained dry.

The Mister said, "Here it comes."

And two minutes later, it was raining on us. 

And then...

...then we just sat there in the car and watch the wonder of monsoon. 

The beauty of water in the desert.

Y'all, it made me happy. Which is saying something, cuz I'm already a pretty happy girl.

What makes you happy today?

Because I provided water in the desert, 

   rivers through the sun-baked earth,

Isaiah 43:20 (MSG)

Pride: The Root of Many At Home Accidents

Last week I posted about the morning the kids and I washed the cars.

What I didn't post about was how I backed the mini-van into the garage and accidentally hit the side of the house with the passenger rear view mirror, and took out a chunk of stucco.

Here's what happened...

I had backed the car out of the garage, and we began to wash. We washed the drivers side, but the hose in the front yard is kinda short, so I had to pull the car out of the drive, turn it around, and back into the driveway to wash and rinse the passenger side. 

While washing the back end of the van, The Boy noticed the chipped paint and cracked passenger taillight.  He said, "Mom! What did you do?"

To which I replied, "I did not do that, your Dad did." 

"Really?" he says. As if it seemed impossible that his Dad could do such a thing.

"Yes." I say. "Don't you remember taking that camping trip to Tyler State Park when we lived in TX? When your Dad backed up in to the campground and took out a small tree?"

Our mini-van was brand new at the time, and I was VERY grateful that I hadn't been the one to put the first "ding" in it. 

Of course he didn't remember, he was only 5 years old.

"So, for the record," I say, "Your Dad did that. Not me."

That's when we finished washing the van and The Girl suggests washing The Misters car as well.

"Great Idea!" I say, and instruct the kids to stay out of my way while I back the van into the garage so to make room for The Misters car on the driveway.

I was concerned about the kids moving from the spot I had told them to stay, so I was keeping my eye on them, instead of the fact that I was about to plow through the wall of the garage.

Until i heard a huge CCCRRRUUNNNCHHHHH!!!!! sound. I looked to my right and the mirror was all bent backwards and folded over on one edge. 

I do believe that it was at this point when a bad word came out of mouth. 

But I won't repeat it here. 

I put the car in drive and hoped against hope that it wouldn't be as bad as it sounded.

The mirror, with a bit of pink stucco scratches, was none the worse for the wear. 

The house? Well, let's just say that The Mister, who had just crossed the last Household Maintenance Chore off his list, has something new and exciting to learn: Stucco Patching.

When I got out of the car The Boy says, "What did you hit?"

"The house." I say with a resigned and quiet tone.

"Wow! That's much worse than a tree, isn't it?"

Yeah, well, it just might be.

First pride, then the crash— 

   the bigger the ego, the harder the fall.

Proverbs 16:18 (The Message)

The Desert Life: An Introduction

"I am making a way in the desert,

And streams in the wasteland"
-Isaiah 34:19b

Often when we think of the desert we are put off by it's barrenness, it's heat. Some are frightened by it's reptilian creatures, it's sharp foliage and general unfriendly, demeanor. We've all seen the movies where people lost in the desert lose their mind because of the harsh climate: seeing mirages of water when dying of thirst.

The Bible often talks about the desert. Recently I have been reading a lot about the Israelites as they wandered through the desert. I also have been doing a lot of word study on the desert in scripture and found that often, the desert represents physical, emotional, and spiritual fatigue. We see throughout God's Word that hard times often came in the desert. We read about doubt, fear, loneliness, testing, rejection, disobedience, hunger, thirst.

Matthew 4:1 tells us that Christ himself was not immune to the desert experience. It was there that he was tempted by the enemy. He knows, by experience, what the "deserts in life" can bring.

But the desert in scripture (and today) isn't all just arid, wild, barren (deadly!) land. We also read about provision, care, and refuge. The desert is where people went to hide, to pray, to learn, to seek out God.

Interwoven in that harsh exterior is unbelievable beauty. Breathtaking artistry, amazing charm. Refreshing goodness that one can experience: Rain in the desert. Spectacular sunsets. The coolness of the air when the sun finally goes to sleep. The sounds, the smells, the sights. Yes, even the solitude.

The detail in which our Creator so lovingly made the desert is amazing to me.

My Sister-in-law, (we'll call her Mrs.MooFish), had a young (newly married) couple from the east coast visiting all last week. The groom had never been to the desert before. Mrs.MooFish mentioned that she had a new appreciation for the desert while she viewed it through one who had never seen it. We talked about about a few of the amazing birds: The roadrunner and quail. We talked about the unique plant life, in particular the detail on a specific cactus: The Cholla.

The Cholla is unique for couple of reasons: First because it grows in tubercles (little round sections), so if something rubs against it it doesn't stick with one lonely needle, the whole tubercle comes off, along with it's many needles.

Secondly, the Cholla is the only cactus that has a papery sheath that covers each individual needle. There is an Old Cactus Trick, done by young desert dwelling whipper-snappers, who to try to remove this sheath while escaping the perils that come with playing with cacti. That is, without getting painfully stuck. For the record, it's very difficult to do.

Mrs. MooFish's husband, Mr. MooFish, tried his hand at this Old Cactus Trick, for the purposes of education and entertainment for his out-of-town guests. Unfortunately, his knuckles got into a fight with a cactus tubercle. The cactus won.

Therein lies the juxtaposition with the desert. In the desert we are given the opportunity to experience all the wonder it brings, and sometimes, we get stuck. Or warm. Or dehydrated. Becoming so thirsty we will believe what we see instead of what we know.

The desert holds many metaphors for life. It speaks volumes for the greatness of God.

I've always loved the desert. Maybe it's because I grew up here. But maybe, more importantly, it's because when I look at the desert and all it's beauty I see the hand of God. The God of Truth. The God of Mercy. The sovereign God who has a purpose, even among all those crazy plants that bite. Living in the Sonoran Desert reminds me that in the Deserts of Life I can trust Him. Always.

I can trust Him when I am comfortably gazing at a sunset, cool drink in hand, or when I feel lost and thirsty, and begin to eat the sand I've confused as water. I can trust Him (and learn) when I play with cacti and lose.

The desert points me to God, the creator of all things, and reminds me that He has a provided a way. It may not always look like I want it to, but it's there.

And that is my purpose as I start writing about The Desert Life in the months to come.

Be alert, be present. I'm about to do something brand-new.
It's bursting out! Don't you see it? There it is! I'm making a road through the desert,
rivers in the badlands. Wild animals will say 'Thank you!'
—the coyotes and the buzzards— Because I provided water in the desert,
rivers through the sun-baked earth, Drinking water for the people I chose,
the people I made especially for myself,
a people custom-made to praise me.
(Isaiah 43:19)
The Message