Sunday.....the snow edition...

By Sunday morning I was really loosing patience with the snow.  One day stranded at home is one thing, but 2 days is asking a bit much...and interupting church really irks me out!
By the afternoon it had melted down enough for me to drive into Chesnee to pick up a couple of prescriptions and get some food beyond bologna and cheese sandwiches.
I navigated out without much incident.  There was one hill with a good deal of ice still in tact, so it was more like car sledding than actually driving, but it was actually pretty fun :)
After getting me goods at the CVS, I walked over the El Limon (the Lemon) to get me some chicken, cheese, and nachos.  This dish is usually enjoyed at Monterrey's with Nikki and Donna, but that blasted snow...
There were only a couple of people who had actually ventured out to the lemon, so I sat down at the booth and casually said hi to the gentleman sitting at the booth adjacent to mine.  He was eating already, and I ordered my food and busied myself looking over my planner for this week.  I noticed at one point he had left and I was the only person sitting in the non-smoking section but thought nothing of it, except how rare it is to be alone in a restaurant on a  Sunday afternoon.  The waitress then approached and in broken Spanglish asked if I knew the man who had been sitting there.  I told her I had never seen him before.  She then laughed and told me he had paid for my meal when he left.
After a pouty weekend where I complained to God constantly about snow messing with my plans, he sent an angel to buy my lunch and gave me no opportunity to say thank you.  I'll be spending my week repenting my foolishness and looking for a way to pay it forward.

In Memorium

I had a really snazzy post about laundry I was planning to be my next post, but in light of current events, plans change.
Obituaries are, in my opinion the most impersonal words in a daily newspaper.  They are short, give basic details on times and places and survivors but tell very little about the person who's death they are announcing.  That does not do my friend Shirley McKinney any justice.  So before the brilliant minds at the Herald Journal have their say, I want to do my best to pay tribute to one one of the greatest women I have ever known.
Shirley McKinney was an amazing wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother.  To me however, she was actually none of those things.  She was in effect simply a friend.  The difference was that Shirley was not simply a friend to anyone.  She was ever so much more and to have been loved by her was to truly know God's love embodied in a human being.
Her porch was home to many, and as a young teenager there was no more safe and wonderful place in the world.  I spent many Sunday afternoons and evenings sitting in the swing with a blanket wrapped arund my shoulders and her arms around me.  Her heart was always open, her ears always listening and even when scolding was fully warranted it came in the most gentle and loving of forms.
In the past few years I have not stayed in contact with her like I should have.  Time seems to weave us in different directions throughout the years.  One thing has never changed, I could always drive up in that drive way and know that I would be met with more love and understanding that I deserved.  Many times in my adult life when I have been confused or scared I have taken the trip in my mind back to that front porch and felt her arms around me, praying for me, comforting me.
Tonight Shirley is on a very different front porch, rejoicing with the Savior that she taught so many about.  She loved to sing, and everyone who heard her loved to hear it.  Tonight she is singing in a new choir and one of these days we can all go and join her.  Until then, we can grieve her passing but give praise for she is waiting for us with the same loving arms she met us with here on earth.

More than a dream

Have you ever looked at life and thought "Whoa! How did I get here?"
I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Looking back at all the dreams and expectations I had for my life, and comparing and contrasting to the reality that I have become. Some of you reading this have known me since I was making those dreams and expectations and I suppose you might be surprised at where I am now, or you always assumed I would be exactly where I am. Whatever the case, I am surprised.
I never set out to be a bank teller. In the 7th grade Mrs. Price made us take a career assessment and she insisted that I put down banker as one of my possibilities. I informed her she was crazy and that there would be no way in very hot places that I would ever become a banker. I always dreamed of being a singer or an actress or if I must be normal I was going to teach. Out of sheer nicety no one ever informed me that I had no business singing out of church, I didn't have the face for acting and I suppose no one knew that I would grow up to only like small children in smaller doses. Even in more recent history, I thought I would live in Asheville until they stuck me in the ground. Of course here I sit in my hometown in South Carolina, the one place I was convinced I would never go. It is shocking to me I am here, I am the woman I am and yet I am content beyond measure. Sometimes the job makes me crazy, I want to strangle some of my lifelong friends, and I am enveloped in the insanity called family, but I am thrilled to be living this life. This life I didn't have the good sense to dream for or expect and yet God said "Here, my stupid little lamb, I brought you here in spite of yourself." God is good all the time and yes, all the time God is good. Here's to life being more than you can ever dream. Simplicity is everything, and the small moments make the big life.

Goodbye Blanche

We all new it would happen one day but the old Subaru has finally taken it's last drive and is now cruising the highway in the sky with the rest of those first cars we all had. Saying goodbye was like saying goodbye to a best friend and sidekick. I grew up with that car, and she grew old with me. I will never forget driving her in circles in the cul de sac on Sevier St. learning to drive or the day Buddy put her plate on the back for me. That car was the greatest gift of love and freedom from my big brother Jon. It meant everything to me in the beginning, and in the end she was there to witness alot in my life. She was there when my mom was sick to drive me up and down the mountain and there to take me home on auto pilot the morning she died. She was there for the first road trip to see Mary and although I was alone in the car, I wasn't alone. That car, my Blanche, had such presence and personality that I never felt alone. She kept me safe, kept me healthy in many ways, and kept me moving forward. I have moved on and there will be pictures of the new wheels soon, but the old girl needed to be remembered for all she was.

A little run-in

Sunday morning I was running ridiculously late and didn't really take the time to defrost my car. I could see out of the windshield and the rest of the windows remained covered in a veil of ice. In my hurry I pulled out of my road ignoring the fact that I couldn't see any on coming traffic. It's a normally very quiet road with very little traffic and I just took the gamble and of course lost. It wasn't a hard hit and it took a moment to register what had happened. Once it did I turned into a puddle of tears and got out of the car to see what had happened and if the other driver was ok. Out of a huge SUV comes a large african american man dressed up in his best black suit and red tie and all I could think was "Please don't kill me." It was one of those moments when you know you screwed up and will gladly admit it and just don't want to be cussed out int he mean time even if you deserve it.
This man promptly folded me into his arms and told me he was fine and was more worried about whether I was ok or not. My stupidity run amuk and he was worried about a complete stranger. He checked my car and both of our vehicles were perfectly fine and we were fine and then he commented on our matching Christmas church attire to make me laugh. At this point I was amazed at the kindness I had literrally ran into. Then I was more amazed as the man took my hands and suggested we say a prayer of thanks together and then go on our own ways to God's house. I stood shivering in the cold, crying and praying with a total stranger who was showing me an amazing amount of grace.
I may never meet this guy again and that is really ok with me. I had a stranger show me a little Christmas grace and for that I am eternally grateful.