thoughts | home...

Oh, that word.

Home.

When our house sold last summer and our new house as just shy of breaking ground.  We scrambled.  Trying to find a place for 11 people and their things.  Nothing was out of question.  Hotels, the cabin, another state, an RV, tents, a yurt.  We looked at dozens of options for the time that faced us as we built our new home.  In the end, it was a vacation rental that we ended up living in long term.  10 months to be exact.  About 5 minutes from the office and the grocery store, within the range of the pizza delivery man and most importantly, able to house the whole lot of us.  Of course I complained, but you couldn't beat it for convenience!

With our move now behind us and the one year mark a few week past, I've been reflecting.  It seems like the longest year of my life and yet the shortest.  It was a good, yet hard year.  Not good in the traditional sense, maybe more good for me.  For a while my entire world was flipped upside down.  And I struggled every day with this out of place, lost feeling.  And then I struggled because I was frustrated at myself for feeling that.  "Abbe, there are real people in the real world dealing with things that hundreds of times harder than this.  It's all fancy problems."  Darn those fancy problems, they'll just wear you down if you let them.

But God works in all of our lives in ways that are specific to us.  Because He is a personal God.  He is God with us.  When He calls us to something, He also walks with us through it.  For me, it was a stripping away.  Of dreams, of the familiar, of some of the stability that my family fights so fiercely to maintain, of our things.  The first few months were miserable.  Then the holidays came and were especially hard since we're used to having huge celebrations.  It was the first time, in a few years that we weren't able to host a ton of friends for Thanksgiving.  We were on top of each other (the turtles were suffocating, as I was sharing a room with Miss Grace and her collection of 97,000 turtles) and stress was high.  I wasn't sure we were going to make it.  And with most trials, you're in the thick of it, you start to accept it as the new normal, and you realize that you're at the end.  It's over.  You wouldn't want to go through it again, but you're grateful you did.

One of the most profound things I learned is, my comfort is overrated.  That, even in a good life, there will always be an element of uncertainty and it's okay.  Man, that's hard for me, I hate it so much.  I love my security, I love to be comfortable, I like to know whats coming next and to be prepared for it.  I've always been a "look before I leap" kinda girl.  Worse than that actually, if I don't see a sign, I'm 100% the one to call the park board and double check to make sure I'm not missing something.  My family kept saying to each other "when we move into our house" or "when this is over" and had to catch ourselves from thinking that everything was going to be perfect once we had a permanent home again.  It's a lie you tell yourself.  It's a part of coping, I think.  The thing about hard seasons is that, they prepare you for harder seasons.  You realize that you're stronger than you think, that God is really all you need.  And while I'm probably coming across as a little dramatic, what I'm trying to say is that, I'm just barely scraping the surface of what it means to trust God through times that feel out of our control.

I'm not really sure where all of that came from. I've been trying to write this post for a few weeks and I can't get the words perfect but I think I may put it up anyway.  But I've been pondering "home" and it's come to mean so much to me.  I get a little choked up every time.  I can't help it.  My brother got married in our backyard on Saturday, adding the first layer of precious memories.

It's good to be home.

thoughts | a few things running wild in my head...

There are a lot of thinks that happen under this blonde of mine.  As @Brookealline likes to remind me often "stop thinking so much, your brain is going to blow up".

Y'all, that is a very real possibility.

A selection of 5 of the not-so-deep things:

1.  Lilly for Target.

I was going to devote an entire post to this.  But I won't.  Just a few-paragraph rant.

I'm simply too disgusted over the entire matter.  I'm a Lilly girl, I've been huge fan for about 10 years, I'm probably more familiar with the brand than her board of directors.  I collect & wear vintage pieces, I know how to tell a real from a fake & have a deep appreciation for the ALL THE PINK & GREEN!  When they first announced a collab with Target I was excited, then realized that while it would bring more awareness it would also cheapen the brand.  Lilly Pulitzer clothing is beautifully made, with great details inside & out of the clothing.  Lace trim inside the hem, palm tree buttons up the back, gorgeous prints in quality cotton, I wasn't sure a $38 shift dress could stand up to the $200 price of her regular line.  It seemed like a far stretch to me.  I was aware of the online buzz, bloggers posting their plans for securing online & in-store items, & one especially unflattering article on the HuffPo showing you how to wear Lilly for Target if you're not a Palm Beach kind of girl.  Excuse me???  You're not being held against your will, just walk on past.  Thank you.

They released on Sunday.  I figured our Target would be fully stocked for a while & could wait for me until after church and my Sunday nap.  Priorities.  About 5pm, I asked my two littlest sisters if they wanted to go check out the Lilly, they were in.  But, then again, they never turn down a trip to Target.  We walked in, were greeted by huge posters & EMPTY SHELVES.  That sent us on a scavenger hunt of the entire store which turned out one hammock stand (just the stand, no hammock), two candle holders & a string of lights.  We were shocked.  The Target staff just walked around with a glazed look in their eye.  I overheard one of them saying she didn't even know who this Lilly person was.  They said the doors unlocked at 8am & it was a mad rush of women.  Reminds me of the time I also underestimated Midwestern women & their apparent love of Missoni.  By the next morning, they had already taken the signs down at our local store.  Like it never even happened.

Over the past two weeks, as I've made my #targetrun, a few returns have come back to the store.  And a sweet lady who works there recognized me & told me where a few things were hiding. We were able to snag a pair of the palazzo pants, a nail polish in "Capri" (Lilly x Target x Essie, triple collab?) and two nail files.  The quality is terrible on the pants by the way.  I decided that I would keep on wearing my "Lilly for Lilly" and let everyone go crazy on the Internet (I'll keep my thoughts to myself about those who are reselling with a 500% markup).

2.  Woman in Gold

Did you see this movie?  Brooke & I went a few weeks ago & loved it!  Beautifully filmed with great acting & a fascinating story.  I was impressed & loved the historical aspect.  Since we're traveling to Austria next week, I was interested in that part of the story as well.

3.  Fleek

I'm not sure where to begin with this one.  There is something about this word that drives me batty.  Pop culture tends to make my eye twitch anyway, but how do we take a two-second video & turn a made up word into something that otherwise elegant individuals now use in everyday conversation.  My siblings were trying to explain this to me.  Just when I thought I had caught onto "the fleek", they told me to stop.  That is was not "the fleek" just "fleek".  And I'm still banned from the twitter & apparently the chatsnap too.  You won't catch me using this word.  Even on days when my eyebrows look extraordinarily good.

4.  Unbroken

I'm the last person on the planet to read this book (I've not seen the movie yet, I'm not sure that I want to), I'm about 3/4 of the way through it & I hate it.  It's terrible.  Heartbreaking.  The three chapters that Laura Hillenbrand spent detailing every move of those sharks had me crawling up the wall.  The other night I was sitting in bed contemplating googling photos of 30ft great white sharks.  I was so tempted, mainly because it seems unlikely that they would be that long.  But I resisted, because if there is anything in this world that is guaranteed to give a person nightmares, it's rows of shark teeth.  I'll let you know if I end up liking the book any more at the end.

5. Forever 21 Classic Knit Scarf

I bought this over the weekend in the Blush pink & it's perfect!  The color is not very pink at all, just a very light cream color.  The weight is nice & about the size of a blanket.  I wore it the other day wrapped around my neck twice & then tied in a bow in front.  It looked pretty cute.  It's $8.90 & comes in several other colors.  I'll be sporting this on the plane next week, along with my black Gap knit pants & sleeping mask.  I texted my travel companions about my plan to change into sweats on the plane, they weren't too amused, but with the timing of the flight, I need to sleep, so I'll just pull my mask down further (I have sleeping mask problems due to the fact that I have a pug nose, they never quite block out ALL of the light) & ignore their glares.  Haha!  In all reality, we travel great together & we're all excited about our trip, sweatpants or no.

I should get back to my packing list.  Or my book.  Let me think about that...

thoughts | it's spring, emma

So I've grabbed a few minutes.  Office work is done for the day.  I had some student spreadsheet work for this summer's Lamplighter Guild that I've been procrastinating on for, oh, I don't know, a while...  The weather has changed and its lovely here.  High 60's otherwise known as "steamy hot" if you're from Wisconsin.  It rained last week and everything just burst into color, green grass, the ice finally melted off the lake and its a lovely blue color (sometimes greenish and sometimes grey, I love living near the water.)  I decided that spreadsheets just go better with fresh air and iced coffee, so I grabbed my things and walked the approximate one block to my Starbucks.

I was right.  That coffee made me breeze through the latest batch of updates.

Yay!

They renovated our Starbucks last week.  We now have outdoor couches.  I'm currently enjoying them.  But not the music selection, per usual.  I'm not the person you want to have around when hip music is playing (music is so distracting for me, I'll pick up the words and make comments such as "did you just hear that? what is she trying to say?").  It's a problem.

Life just seems a little brighter in April.  It reminds me of that part in At Home in Mitford when Father Tim walks through the door and Emma peppers him with questions about why he looks different, he sighs and says "It's spring, Emma".  I feel that.  The relief to have made it through another winter and the joy of looking ahead to summer.  Even if it's still a few months away, there is a light at the tunnel kind of feeling.  I think everyone's just a little happier to be alive.

I've begun the search for the perfect white jeans.

Let's let that sink in for a few moments.  The white jean hunt is virtually the same as going out to look for a unicorn.  Possible, but highly unlikely.  If you know of any that are heavy denim, wide leg and come in a long length, be sure to send them my way!

On second thought, white jeans don't do so well when you spill coffee on them.  I spill a lot of coffee.  Most of my wardrobe is coffee colored.  It's practical to my life.

One more thing before I go, has anyone else been dealing with the nasty spring cold?  I've been down for 10 days, and just when I thought it was done, I woke up with a sore throat.  I've been trying to keep up my Crossfit workouts, but golly, you try doing burpees when your lungs don't want to cooperate.  Last night was a struggle.  The thought crossed my mind to just lay down on the rubber mat and take a nap.  You'll be happy to know I pushed through.  Inside I was crying.

My coffee is down to it's last sip, the playlist has switched again and I've got some cactus in the fridge that's calling my name (a post for another day).

Cheers!  And if it's sunny where you are, be sure to step outside for a minute or two!

thoughts | marble cake a.k.a. universal unhappiness

a lovely photo from the internets of a marble cake that actually looks delicious.

photo and recipe here.

I'm waiting on a detail at the car wash.  Styrofoam cup of fake hazelnut coffee in hand and feeling the guilt of an neglected blog weighing on my shoulders.

Or maybe that's just the after-effects of last night's WOD of overhead squats.

I'm not feeling particularly inspired at the moment (fake hazelnut kills creativity. You can quote me on that...), but, per usual, I have thoughts to share.

Have you ever pondered the disaster that is "Marble Cake"?

Marble cake, you know, that two-toned cake that started out as vanilla until somebody had the horrible idea to swirl chocolate batter into it before baking (or is it chocolate with vanilla?).  The proverbial "Switzerland" of pastries.  As a lover of all things wedding, a sometimes coordinator, and regular attendee.  I take cake, wedding, birthday or otherwise, very seriously and I am mystified as to why this flavor even exists.  And it certainly shouldn't be used as a wedding cake flavor.  

Think about it; for a vanilla person, the cake is tainted by chocolate.  For a chocolate lover, the cake is ruined by a stripe of white batter.  

It's a lose/lose situation y'all.

Marble cake makes approximately zeros of people happy.

Growing up in tight-knit baptist churches, I've had my fair share of the marble bakery cakes.  Baptisms, luncheons, baby dedications, bridal showers, baby showers, etc, were always a reason for cake.  And the church ladies in charge seemed to hold as tightly to the gospel of "marble makes everyone happy" as to any other bible doctrine.  Y'all.  It is a lie from the pit.  I'm here to shine some light.  Don't do it. Go with a straight up vanilla or a plain old chocolate.  Trust me on this one.

Because I love a good cake, I've noticed over the past few years (having attended and planned more than a few weddings) that cake is not as popular as it used to be.  I get it, cake is expensive, and stuffy and traditional.  The cool kids serve ice cream, doughnuts, pies, cupcakes, and more donuts.  And quite a few people have told me that they don't like cake.  I'm sorry, do you even have a heart?

I miss cake.  And most of all, buttercream.

The marble topic came up again with my sisters in the car on Friday.  It was a spirited conversation, to say the least.  We're passionate about our carbs.  And a host of other things of equal unimportance.  Feel free to ask us how we feel about, well, anything.  We'll tell you.  

The Powers girls are an opinionated bunch. 

So, here's what I think: vanilla cake, dense texture, with real vanilla and gobs of sturdy white buttercream.  Heaven.

What do you say?  Team Chocolate or Team Vanilla?  How do you feel about the Great Marble Cake Debate?

thoughts | when I wore sweatpants

A few weeks ago, some friends were in town and we decided on a impromptu rock climbing party.  A Target run was required for certain members of our group who didn't own sweatpants (we're fancy people).  In between climbing runs the comment was made several times "These are so comfortable, I can see why people wear these to the airport, but don't worry!  I won't do that!".

Right.

It was a few days later that I found myself needing some sweatpants, because its winter, and not exactly warm at the Crossfit box (well, I mean, it is after about 5 minutes, because you're already sweating).  I found a great pair at T.J Maxx, nice wide waistband, ankle-length, almost like a super-comfy version of the J. Crew ankle pant.  Almost.  And I wore them to the box and was pretty pleased with life.

Then I woke up with this crick in my neck.

Are the cool kids calling it that anymore?  I'm not sure, all I know is that I had shooting pain through my shoulder and up my neck.  Crick sounds about right.

I wisely decided that working out that evening would be a bad idea and tried my best to stretch my neck out throughout the day.  I figured that maybe I slept on it wrong, had some unresolved tension that settled there or perhaps my pillow was two sizes two small.  It'll be fine tomorrow was my mantra.

Or not.

By the next morning it was worse, I couldn't get out of bed and mom called my "chiropractor-since-birth", Dr. W. (although that is misleading, I've been to his clinic approximately 2 times in the last 24 years, but still, he did used to adjust me when I was a baby.  Funny rabbit trail: last time I was there I was convinced that I had something seriously wrong with my rock-solid lymph nodes located behind my ear, I massaged them until I was bruised.  Dr. W took one look at them, walked out of the room, walked back in with a medical textbook and said "Abigail, that would be bone, do you see this chart of your skull and how it extends, that is your bone and if you press hard enough it will break."  Then he forbid me from touching my neck anymore.  He's great!).

Anyway, in spite of our last meeting, he was concerned and asked me to come it right away.  Which lead me to a quandary...  What should I wear?  I was in pain.  I was already wearing my wonderfully, soft, warm sweatpants.  But I couldn't do it.  All I could think of was the confessional text I had received from my friend Chris the day before (aka, friend with shiny new sweatpants), it was a photo of him in sweats and dress shoes at the office justifying the fact that he didn't have client meetings that day.  The struggle, it was there.  But it was so cold outside.  It was COLD outside.  That was it, me and the sweats were headed to the chiropractor and fast.

Do you know how hard it is to put together a decent outfit with sweatpants and the limited use of your shoulder?

Difficulty level: between uncomfortable and dressing a 2 year old.

Off I went.  My sweet mother drove me and even stopped for coffee.  I stayed in the car, no need for all of Peets to see me in this condition.  Then I snapped this photo the above photo and sent it over to Chris for laughs.  Dr. W then examined and adjusted and grilled me on all of my workouts for the last few weeks.

The diagnoses was that it was NOT a CF related injury (yes!), that I needed to apply heat (constant warmth for the next week? you've got it!) and to continue with the mentholated muscle balm (more fuel to the fire for my siblings calling me "grandma". I don't care, I love the smell!).  After about two hours in the office, I got really smart and realized that I could wrap the heating pad around my shoulder, and if I zipped up my down vest, it would stay right on my shoulder.  Simply plug and unplug if I needed to move more than 3 feet from my desk.  Thankfully I didn't have any client meetings that day.

Then I bought some KT Tape and Brooke watched some videos and got me all taped up like a pro athlete and I was able to keep up my workouts and feel ridiculously awesome ("oh, this? it just a little thing with my shoulder, no problem...").

And by now, you've realized that there is no point to this story, except for the fact that the girl who cannot wrap her brain around pj/sweatpants wearing individuals found herself doing that very thing.  Wearing them out in public.  As my sister said "I don't even know you anymore."

thoughts | november

Dear family, friends, acquaintances & other,

Hi!

It's starting to delight the socks off of me (wait! I never wear socks.  anyways...), as I find out how many readers I have.  For the longest time it was just me typing out some words about some stuff and my 10 year old sister would read it and laugh a little.  Now I'm quite confident that I'm up to at least 9 readers.

According to my blog analytics, which are hilarious by the way, I can see what people are googling to find my blog (my favorite is "is Topo Chico better than Perrier", haha! I did write that, perhaps Topo Chico would like to sponsor me and send me on a tropical vacation?), I digress.  But it is fun to be able to see the clicks that come in everyday and I do love it when friends mention that they've read my blog.

I began journaling when I was about 17 and didn't miss a day for years (my future grandchildren will read this and die of boredom), it was a lot of nothing, but I did start to develop a voice and found that I loved to write.  I'm a thinker, my brain is always going 100 miles a minute and writing slows me down and brings some clarity.  My sister @BrookeAlline keeps telling me that I should stop thinking so many thoughts, my brain might blow up.  If she only knew.

So I blog.  To keep the brain from exploding.  Or something like that.  It's a public record of what I want people to know about my life.  Honest, but not too personal, sometimes funny, mostly boring. Most importantly, it keeps me writing.

November has been quite eventful, but I feel like its the calm before the storm leading up to December.  I took a break from social media, deleting my apps (I discovered that if I'm bored, muscle memory takes over and I'm tapping without even realizing it.  Deleting the app = problem solved).  Deactivated my Facebook, and haven't missed it once.  Pinterest on the other hand, well... Next time I'll include that in my list of things to avoid.  But I'm planning a bunch of things right now and its my favorite party planning helper.  -ish...

We hosted Thanksgiving on Thursday (of course), with a slightly smaller crowd than last year.  Slightly.  It was a good one.  I settled on the thing that I'm most grateful for this year.  That through many "dangers, toils & snare, I have already come, 'tis Grace that brought me safe this far and Grace will lead me home".  I've tried to make a conscious effort to thank God for the hard things in life and realized that He has brought me through many trials and will continue to.  As Christians we are not called to a life without suffering and hardship, but we are able to endure because God is with us.

And there you have it.

Speaking of parties, our first Christmas party is tonight.  Mom swapped the house out for Christmas decor yesterday and we trimmed the tree last night.  I'm curled up in the parlor looking at it now.  We went for a classy mix of metallic as well as red and green.  And just a touch of tinsel.  Haha!

It's our 4th annual Ugly Sweater party.  I'd just like to say that we were on the early cusp of this trend.  Our first year, sweaters were everywhere and like $1.  This year, certain members of my family, who shall remain nameless, spent $20.  On ONE sweater.  At the GOODWILL.  Its highway robbery I tell you.  Brooke and I were not about to let the corporates over at Goodwill dictate our Christmas traditions, we went to the grungiest thrift stores around and picked up some tremendous little duds.  Mine cost $1.99 plus the $4.99 for the vintage plaid wool skirt that I'm wearing with it.  Instant Christmas cheer!

We've got about 30 friends coming, the largest party we've hosted yet in our little rental.  It should be fun though.  All the major party planning books tell you to over-invite anyway, it makes for a snappy time.  That, and all the food.  Good food makes for the snappiest of parties.

I've got to get back to my lists for the party.  Food to make, things to set up, games still left to figure out, prizes & scoring system, food to make, frosting!, shovel the front yard, er, sidewalk, more food... You get it.

Be back in December!

thoughts | the last weekend of autumn

This weekend...

In my corner of the world, the middle of October signals the end of autumn and as the last leaf falls there falls with it our only hope of warmer temperatures and we brace ourselves for the return of the polar bears.  Or winter.  

We had an exceptionally stunning autumn this year.  Our town managed to make a "Top 10 Fall Color" list and brought with it, hoards of people.  The usual "summering" crowd made another appearance and our streets were once again crowded with tourists in white socks and hiking boots. And Land Rovers (one simply can't enjoy adventuring without a proper luxury SUV!).  But that was early October.  Once we passed the peak, everyone went home and our little town was quiet again.  We were just about to settle in for a long winters nap and then then the weather changed.  This past weekend was a complete bonus.  Gorgeous temperatures in the 70s, sunshine, and just enough color left on the trees to make the everything glow!

I woke up early-ish and was about to grab some coffee when I heard a knock at the door.  Hang on, let me back up...  I first got out of bed because Cal was convinced that he heard a strange noise in the garage and I quote "Probably a mouse banging on the door with a hammer".  Probably not.  Anyway, looked around for a sparkly princess shoe to use as a weapon and when I couldn't find one, I bravely opened the door.  It was nothing.  No mouse, no hammer, no anything.

Imaginative little children.

So anyway, the real knock at the door was our sweet friend (Hi Anna!) who was supposed to meet my sister Mim for a morning of trail riding.  Mim had disappeared into thin air and I was like "Hey! I'm sure she'll be right back, do you want some coffee?"  Heeheehee!  Anything to distract from the fact that I had just answered the door in my pajamas.

After all of that excitement, I was totally awake, and it was Saturday.  And I get cabin fever very easily and once I opened the front door and felt that wonderful breeze, I decided that staying in was not an option.  And also, an early morning meander through downtown sounded quite lovely, sort of like a modern day Audrey Hepburn, only with a gluten free bagel instead of a croissant and jeans instead of a black evening gown.  I also decided that putting my makeup on was a good idea.  At this phase in my life, I can't be too prepared to bump into a handsome stranger. 

Driving down the hill into downtown was breathtaking.  The lake was dark blue and sparkling.  Almost all of the piers have been taken out by now and stacked on the shore, but the few boat owners who were late to pull their boats out of the water were smugly zipping around the bays.  Our little library, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright's protege, was beautifully framed by a few bright trees.  I walked over to the bagel shop and ordered a gluten free bagel (extra crispy) with blueberry cream cheese, because I'm fancy like that, and then remembered that the latest Southern Living mag was out and due to our recent move and the fact that I've had the mail forwarded so many times that it throws everything off for a few days or more, it might maybe be in my mailbox!  I meandered over to the post office, overcome with joy because I love living in town (so much!).

No date with destiny at the post office, but my magazine was in my little box, one tall in a grande cup americano with cream later, I was sitting on the patio at Starbucks reading my magazine and trying to figure out how to make all of this last.  The coffee, the smell of the leaves, the EVERYTHING.  I was feeling very nostalgic about life until I was brought back down to earth with plans to meet my friend Sophia for a little leisurely shopping action.  

I don't want to brag, but we're pretty much professional thrift store shoppers (Brooke can be included in this club as well, she just wasn't feeling it this weekend).  Give us a few hours and we'll locate every designer brand in the place, along with vintage clothing and Anthropologie-worthy housewares.  I tried on the most fabulous 1980's party dress, I'm not sure why, but some 80's clothing suits me a little too well.  Maybe it's the jewel tones or the slightly over sized scale.  Maybe its because I'm 92 at heart...  Anyway, I put it back on the rack.  Just couldn't see it fitting into the dress code for any upcoming parties or weddings (black velvet sweetheart necklines top, emerald green satin full skirt and orchid purple sash.  WITH BOW!).  Not feeling it?  That's okay, neither was anyone else.

Friends of ours hosted dinner for the church ladies later that night.  I had every intention of leaving in time to get some packing done before bed, but then we got talking and laughing about important girly topics and the next thing I knew it was 11pm.  Which is the equivalent of 3am for this morning person.  Hey!  I'm not one to break up some good fellowship!

Well that was long enough.  Sometimes I have a lot of words to say, which is why it's taken me approximately 9 paragraphs to tell you what I did on an uneventful Saturday in October.

How was your weekend?  Any plans for this upcoming weekend?

thoughts | twenty six

My birthday is the one of my least favorite days of the year.

I know how ungrateful this sounds.  God chooses to give me life and breath for another 365 days, filling my life and lungs with purpose, giving me grace upon grace and this is how I choose to react.  My parents and siblings put up with my shenanigans and grumpy moods all while loving and taking care of me and feeding me the occasional donut.  It's really quite pathetic.  I'm quite pathetic.  But hear me out.  This struggle is real in my life.

Every year, as September 23 draws closer, the same thought is on repeat in my brain...

"I thought I'd be farther along by now."

That's the hardest part.  Surely by 24, I'd be married to some dreamboat, probably have a cute little monogrammed baby with a hair bow the size of Texas, surely I'd have written that book, lost those 50 pounds, conquered public speaking, skydived and worn out 2 passports.  Surely.  Go ahead and laugh, I know that I'm crazy.  

A younger Abby (yes, I used to spell it with a "y"), would never have guessed that at 26, she'd still be a single girl, living at home, having opened and then closed a business, still trying to figure out if she is a round peg or a square peg and what hole she needs to fit into, and how, for Pete's sake, does one properly launder a wool sweater?.  The same crazy questions that I had at 12 are alive and well at 26.  You'd think I'd be farther along by now...

25 was good to me.  Scratch that.  GOD WAS GOOD TO ME.  25 held so much life.  So many beautiful moments when I thought I would burst from happiness, and hard moments when I thought my heart would break from it's burdens.  The loud laughter and the silent tears.  And God is always good.  

Coming to grips with the fact that I am that 20-something single girl that I always looked at with pity has been hard.  I mean, the day to day isn't so hard, but being "that girl" is a blow to my pride.  I've never really wanted to turn this into a single girl blog, but as you get older people ask more questions about your love life and it's my thorn in the flesh, so here goes.  I grew up wanting to be a wife and a mom, spent several years as a feminist disgusted with it and then had an encounter with God that changed my mind again.  I could see that family was a big deal.  That the only way we change culture is by getting married, having babies and doing government (thank you Candace Waters!).  And of course God would want to make all of my wishes come true.  Of course!  And year after year it seems that I'm in this same place.  Unmarried, wondering where I went wrong.  Both of my grandmothers married in their late teens, my own mother married at 22 and I seemed have completely missed out on that "charming and irresistible" gene, my being an awkward duck is another post for another day.  I've run the whole gamut of emotion and have come to rest upon the rock that is God's Will.  He will use whatever He needs to in our lives to make us more like His Son.  He knows how to design and use our struggles so that in the end its all for His Glory.  

These past few years have been of momentous growth in my life.  I've been in this valley of waiting for what seems like forever.  And God has used it to teach me things that I probably wouldn't have learned through marriage.  Some of us are really hard to get through to, which is why I'm still single.  God is trying to show me that He is enough and that a gorgeous husband isn't the end all in life (what what?!?).  He is Enough.  That is all.

It's hard for me to look forward to another year, when I feel so inadequate.  So immature, so "not-26" (whatever that means!).  When all I want to do is go back and make sure that I got "25" down perfect before moving on.  Sigh.  Wouldn't that be nice.  And it all makes me think of one of my favorite quotes from Elisabeth Elliot (that woman has become one of my dearest friends over the past year...). "Maybe this year will be the year of desire radically transformed".  Oh, how I pray this is what 26 looks like for me.

Well, today is my birthday!  I have no idea what I'll be doing with the rest of the day, but I can tell you that chocolate croissants will be involved.  Now that I've gotten all of my grumbling out of the way, I'm planning to thoroughly enjoy today.  To approach it with gratitude and lots of coffee.

Sorry for all of the words.  I've been feeling lots of feelings and thinking lots of thoughts recently.  Now back to our regularly rescheduled programming!

thoughts | goodbye august... wait! september is half over?

Oh August.  I wasn't ready for you to leave.

I dream of summer all year long.  And then it comes, and before I have a chance to really, truly, actually, thaw out, it's gone.  And like some unspoken, "North of Chicago" rule, the calendar page flips to Sept. 1 and it's all over.  We go from 80 degrees and neon green grass covered golf courses to orange topped trees and a choppy wave covered grayish blue lake.  The leaves seem to instantly wither and jump off the trees before you have a chance to even get used to writing "September" in your checkbook (are the cool kids still writing checks these days?).

It was 40 degrees when I woke up this morning.

I realized that it's nearly the middle of the month and I never updated my summer bucket list (five for August).  I could sit here and type out some pretty fabulous justifications on why I didn't do half of the things I intended.  But I won't.  I would like to cash in my "get out of jail free" card.  No excuses.

And someone should probably stop me the next time I start coming up with a list of things to get done in the next 30 days.  Yeah, its probably not going to happen.

We moved.  

The above sentence seems very innocent.  I should add, we moved 11 people, 3 cats, 1 horse and a huge house into boxes, freight trucks, storage units, and a rental house.  Oh, and a barn.  The horse is staying in a barn (not a freight truck, I haven't researched it, but I'm quite sure that would be illegal).  We also were gifted a donkey two days ago, but this is another story for another day.  You would think that moving less than 10 miles from one house to another would be an breeze, but I am convinced that cross-country is the easier task.  I think my little Jeep was loaded and unloaded approximately 1 million times.  Today was the first time I realized that the backseat was empty.  Completely empty.  Okay, fine, so my giant L.L. Bean tote was still in there, but it gets to stay because it holds important things (like extra cardigan sweaters, newspapers and stuff like that).  Yes ma'am, we are just winning at the game of life over here.

The past month has felt overwhelming.  And I hate to even say that because I know that there are real people out there dealing with truly difficult situations, and I feel like a wimp.  My version of "overwhelming" just happens to be a pile-up of fancy problems.  When my parents first started talking about moving early this year, I figured it would take some time, that our house would never sell and that everything would be fine (glass half full) and I went on with life.  Then the next thing I know, our house sells, Mom and Dad find a new and very historic home that they want to add onto, start meeting with architects and builders and I'm googling best "portable storage containers".  We found a rental house to stay in for the next year.  Then U-Line started delivering pallets of cardboard boxes to our door and we had kids playing with sharpies and rolls of tape.  It got a little dicey there for a while when we realized that Cal was missing and the last time anyone had seen him was three days ago when we packed up the sleeping bags.  Totally kidding.  No children, or animals were harmed in the moving of this house!

It all moved so quickly and seemed very surreal that we would be leaving our house.  Life was really good for us.  We had plenty of space to spread out and we were constantly entertaining guests, and sometimes our house felt like a bed and breakfast due to the amount of friends staying overnight.  But we loved it.  I had my own little room that was more like a nest than anything.  Neat, tidy, all to myself and life was really good.  EVERYTHING. WAS. TOO. GOOD.

A wise man once told me "Sometimes we get too comfortable, and then God needs to move us".

Let me tell you, that was a WORD.  True in my life and applicable to the right now.  I needed to hear that.  I feel like God had given us a sweet season of life and (though not without pain, and I should also add, that this new season is not without its sweetness.  The Christian life is a mingling of the two.  And God is always good.)  But because He loves us and because its easy to get soft and to stop depending on Him for our strength, He chooses to move us.  We leave the familiar for the unfamiliar and we are once again forced to rely on God for our only solace.  We see beautiful story after beautiful story in the bible of how God takes His children from one place to another, because those in-between places teach us some of the most important lessons we'll ever learn.  More about ourselves and our weaknesses, and more of God's grace and faithfulness.  Moving requires faith.  But God provides everything we need because He is the Faithful One.

I've tried to keep all of this in perspective as we've made the transition.  As people and friends ask how things are, I'm quick to remind them that everything is fine.  Really it is.  Sure, our kitchen may be half the size, but hey! it takes half the time to clean!  I'm sharing a room with two messy girls who shall remain nameless, but hey! I now get to enjoy the "late, late show with Gracie" every night (oh golly, she is animated!).  I'm also five minutes away from the office and more importantly, Starbucks.  Oh, and pizza delivery.  It has been ten long years since we've lived in range of the pizza delivery man.  You should have seen my face when I realized that I can order a gluten free pizza from my couch and have it delivered in twenty minutes.  Welcome to the big city Abbe!

I know that a year flies by like nothing and I want to be able to look at this time in our little rental house and say "it was hard, but it was good".  To dwell on the sweetness.  I know that I will fail miserably at being gracious and that I will miss nine out of ten lessons that God is "clearly" trying to teach me.  But my heart's desire in this season, is that God would use it (ALL. OF. IT.) in my life for His own glory.  And He will.  He already has.  

thoughts | personality types

There's something you should know about me...

I get on these kicks where I'll find something new and fascinating and devote the next several weeks of my life to research.  Some might call it an obsession, I prefer to think of myself as a well-rounded individual.  Like that one time I read about honeybees for three months straight and mapped out a branding plan for my approximate, 3 annual jars of honey.  Or once, when I found out about this fabulous grocery store in the UK (Daylesford Organics).  How about anytime I plan an event?  Or read an article in the paper?  See also, Frank Lloyd Wright, Gone with the Wind and a random smattering of creative directors for clothing companies that most normal people have never heard of.

Anyway.

Several months ago I was doing some work-related research about Myers Briggs personality types.  About 20 minutes into my project I was just dying to know WHAT IS MY TYPE?!?!  Is there anyone who doesn't love these things?  There are quizzes for everything, personality type, love language, what is your temperament, what style of shoe best describes you, what flavor of frozen yogurt are you, etc.  In cases like this I would likely be a "quality time-kitten heel-cake batter-sour gummy worm" kinda girl.

It's a little narcissistic and yet fascinating at the same time.

On a deeper note, I believe that it might just be a desire that we all have to not feel so alone in this world.  To find another person who is "just like us".   To find our box and the people that belong in it.  To see that "our" weird isn't so weird after all.

And...

Since this is my blog, and I've already done the research AND I can write about whatever I want.  So here's the down low on personality types.

Take the test here...

It all bases off of four main factors: how you focus on the outer world (Extroverted or Introverted), how you take in information (Intuitive or Sensing), how you make decisions (Thinking or Feeling) and how you structure the outside world (Judging or Perceiving).  These four factors can be combined to make sixteen different personality types.

I'm a INFJ (Introverted Intuitive Feeling Judging).  My results were absolutely dead on.  I printed out all of the info that came with my type and started to highlight everything that was "me". Basically the whole page.  Mine is the rarest personality type, with less than 1% of the population being an INFJ.

Which leads me to speculate that my weird, might actually, in fact, be, quite, "weird".

My parents are to thank for this confusing twist.  And it's funny to me, because, I've always felt that I was the "girl version" of my dad (introverted) with just enough of my mother's (extroverted) personality to keep people guessing.  Something that is very common to the INFJ, as most people are surprised to find that they are not extroverted.  And I've actually had arguments (calm down, sister) with people over the fact that I'm an introvert.

In an instant I learned so much about myself.  The way that I process things and learn and interact with others.  I basically forced Brooke and Dan to take the test and their results were highly accurate as well.  We've also spent a good bit of time talking about how much impact growing up in a large family has on your personality.  In case your wondering, the answer is A LOT.

Then I started googling, researching, famous INFJs.  Who knew that Elizabeth Bennett from Pride & Prejudice was one?  And suddenly it all makes sense.

Leave me a comment and let me know what your type is!

thoughts | sub-zero temps & visiting the grandparents

I’ve never talked about the weather so much in my life as this past week.  And rightly so, with the entire mid-west stuck in an arctic chill-zone, or what ever that technical term is that meteorologists use, it’s been too cold to speak about anything other than how cold it is.

Talk of weather is one of my biggest pet peeves, usually reserved for the most uncomfortable of situations, I tend to avoid it.  There is no avoiding talk of temperatures that dip below negative 25 degrees.  I’d heard that the local weather report ran out of colors to use for temperature zones, so they had us labeled as “orange”, usually reserved for “balmy, 70 degree” days, it apparently now means “be sure to bring your penguin indoors tonight”.

I happened to spend part of last week several hours north of home doing some training at my dad’s factory.  And by part, I mean, the coldest part.  Negative 25 was the temperature, not including windchill, in the middle of the day, with full sunshine.  With rumors of an Arctic Owl sighting.  Is there no balm?

My grandparents live 5 minutes from the factory & I was able to stay with them for a few days.  I absolutely love spending time with them.  Not only are the some of the funniest people you will ever meet, but they are the kindest, most generous & most loving ones too.  I’ve especially loved the past few years of life with them, as I’ve grown up, they've begun to truly treat me as an adult and a friend.  Our conversations have been very real, and they're are lots of valuable lessons in all they have to say.  There are so many stories, the hilarious ones, the family lore, some stories end in tears, and some stories are still unwritten.  

There are few things in life as sweet as hearing your grandparents telling you their life story.

Combined with the fact that my Mimi and Boppa (pet grandparent names are the best!) have been Christians for decades, they have the amazing ability to tie things back to the goodness of God.  And a good amount of laugh til you cry "church stories" (I love those ones!).  I can honestly say that my grandparents are two of the biggest blessings in my life.

Mimi, me & Mom | December 2013

thoughts | happy christmastime

I'm typing on my beautiful new macbook.  How's that for a happy Christmas?!?

Christmas day is such a surreal and special day for my family.  I was actually awake before the kiddos, which is no small feat when you have 3 little ones under the age of 10.  I was groggy and laying in bed waiting to hear the sound of their elephant tiny feet two stories up.  I heard Cal first and my heart kinda squeezed.  Do you know that THAT is one of the happiest sounds in the world. I got out of bed to brush my teeth, and, I'm not ashamed to admit it, put some mascara on my pathetic eyelashes.  That was the first gift I gave to my family.
Family tradition states that we must get our stockings from the mantle and pile into Mom and Dad's room.  Then we tear through them, the stockings that is, not our parents.  After that, its back downstairs for coffee (hallelujah, amen!) and dad reading Luke's gospel account of Jesus's birth (Hallelujah, Amen!).

And then presents.

My favorite gift that I gave this year was actually found last minute on Christmas Eve at an antique store.  It was an old storage crate with "microscopes" stamped onto the side and wooden dividers inside.  It went to my brother Daniel.  It was so eclectic, and he's eclectic, I figured it'd work.  It did!

Christmas dinner was much lower in intensity than thanksgiving dinner.  We has approximately 20 less people at our table.  My grandparents woke up to 9 inches of snow and couldn't make the drive to see us.  Welcome to the north.  Dinner was still delicious, even if the turkey didn't get as toasty as usual.  I suggested using my creme brûlée torch to finish it off.
It brings a whole new meaning to the song "Bring a torch Jeannette Isabella".  Maybe their turkey wasn't crisping up properly either?  I took to calling my sister Jeanette Isabella for the rest of the afternoon.  Let me tell you, she loved that.

I made the Southern Living Christmas cover cake.  Red Velvet Cheesecake Layer Cake with White Chocolate Frosting and Stuff!!!  I was so proud.  The recipe came together well, I definitely recommend taking two days to make this cake, it's easy to bake, just time consuming.  The frosting gave me the hardest time, the white chocolate got too hard before I cold get it onto the layers.  I had to keep running my knife under hot water and re-melting the chocolate.  The final product was amazing!

Oh, and the surprise that we pulled off on Christmas Eve...

Dreams do come true.

thoughts | wonderful christmas

Christmas is tomorrow.

Just let that sink in for a moment.  The happiest day of the year and it's right here, in front of us.  I love anticipation.  Knowing what's coming, the surreal feeling that some thing's coming and the waiting.  As long as I don't have to wait too long!  

We're Christmas nuts over here.  My family tends to overdo the entire month of December.  With no apologies.  We just love Christmas!  My baby sister Gracie is keeping the official count ("How many more days?").  I told Calvin I bought him underwear, Gracie added "Yeah, Plain. White. Underwear!" just to be mean.  Kids can be so cruel.  He was excited anyway, the little guy just loves a present!

I've been to three Christmas parties in the last week, the fourth one I wasn't able to make due to the weather.  I've almost finished my shopping.  Why are men so hard to buy for?  The girls were so easy, but brothers are an extreme level of difficult.  And I feel that gift cards are the easy way out for sibling gifts.  I mean, these are the people that have to put up with me and my shenanigans for the other 364 days of the year, they deserve more than a plastic card with a reindeer printed on it. 

I'm helping my parents pull off a huge surprise tonight for the kiddos (and also the "adultos").  Sorry, I can't speak freely here, as my only two readers on this blog are my 9 year old sister Lydia and my best friend (also, sister) Brooke.  That would ruin Christmas for everyone and Mom and Dad would probably return all of my gifts.

We made more Christmas cookies Sunday night.  Because we've been out for several days and I was starting to feel a sugar deficiency.  Imagine our huge happy family gathered around the table delicately frosting mounds of sugar cookies, the smell of sweet frosting and vanilla wafting through the air, as we artistically handcraft silver snowflake designs with toothpicks and tweezers and the sounds of Ella singing Christmas tunes surrounds us.  Nice thoughts right?  Heehee!  We had a blast, but it was louder than that with a hefty amount of bickering going around, mostly, because I had made one batch of gluten free cookie dough and one batch of regular and thought the best (most classy) option for keeping the batches separate would be to use specific cookie cutters (yes, it was quite brilliant).  Worked great until Daniel went to town on the regular dough and filled another tray full of penguins.  Arghhhh.....  

Penguins were supposed to be gluten free.

It's probably not too late to return his gift, only I haven't gotten his gift yet.  Problem solved, I guess.  After the "penguin debacle of 2013" we sat down to frost those babies.  Using some very interesting colors of icing, because apparently the only box of food coloring we have in the cabinet is a neon combo pack.  Which is mostly fine, but your eyeballs start to burn after about three cookies due to the intensity of the hue of pink.

But no worries folks, we pushed through and our cookie jars are full once again.

Dad preached yesterday on Galations 4, not your typical Christmas sermon, but so beautiful with the tie in to "heirs and sons" and the Son of God.  He spoke of the incredible miracle of the virgin birth and how we often forget to treasure these gifts.  There are so many parts of the story of Christ's birth that send shivers up my spine.  But the most amazing is the prophecies that were fulfilled.  Dad has begun to preach through Genesis and came to the creation of the stars several weeks ago, he mentioned the "Star" that told of Messiah's birth.  This is amazing.  New stars don't appear, they are created by the very Hand of God.  Amazing!  Every year, I see something new in the story of the birth of our Savior, the faithfulness of Simeon and Anna, the purity of Mary, the kindness of Joseph and so many other tiny details that are easily missed.

It's early morning here.  With a busy day ahead.  Uncle Bob is in from DC, we have to think of someway to get mom out of the house for a few hours while her gift is delivered, I'm sure I will need a cup of coffee at some point (we are mere mortals over here and run on strong coffee) and the aforementioned "surprise" tonight.  Can't wait!   I'm making the cover cake recipe from Southern Living's December issue, I'll probably regret that one, but it's so beautiful.  And also, red velvet.  I will never not love red velvet.

Wishing you the Merriest Christmas, may your joys be many on this happy day.

thoughts | eleanor parker

The Sound of Music is my favorite film & I was saddened to hear of Eleanor Parker's passing last week.  While Julie Andrews as Maria steals the show every time (as she should!), the role of the Baroness is often overlooked.

Ms. Parker played the role of the Baroness with such perfection, the way she walked across the room, the style of her clothing, her hair (I will always love that pouf!) & that low, gravely voice in which she spoke, made her character flawless.  You'd actually believe that she was royalty & from Vienna.  My friend Anna reminded me that Mr. Parker played in lots of other films, but let's be real, shall we?  I'm all about the Sound of Music.

Recently, I read an interview in the Wall Street Journal from a reporter on traveling, the best part was when she mentioned that she watches the Sound Of Music every time she flies.  It's her favorite movie & she claimed that the opening scene calms her.  I was imagining curling up in my seat with a hot Starbucks & watching my favorite film for 2.5 hours.  What could be better?  I downloaded it immediately onto my iPad & in the past 3 months have watched it more than 6 times.  I've yet to get tired of it.  The film is just beautiful & the storyline so rich that I catch new details every time I watch.

Thank you Ms. Parker for lending your beauty & talent to one of the most timeless films ever created.  You are a favorite & we will remember you with fondness.

Auf wiedersehen.

thoughts | normandy

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2002/06/D-Day/allen-text

I was in Normandy, France on D-Day two years ago. 

It was one of the most amazing experiences I've had in my life to date.  My family was on a European history tour with a group of our closest friends and we stopped in Normandy for several days.  I'll never forget the scent of that place.  We drove through the French countryside for hours that first day and when everyone was exhausted, our buses finally pulled into the tiny hamlet on Juno Beach.  The air was so thick, it was cold and windy and the rain started to fall.  It smelled like salty seaweed.  Our group unloaded into the small waterfront hotel/restaurant and sat down to a warm meal.  It was dusky outside and I watched the beach during dinner.  It literally looked like the famous D-Day beach photos, vast, and grey with long shallow waves. 

Our tour had been going strong for a good week and by now we were all completely worn out from the travel, having lost track of cities, towns and even countries.  After dinner, dad picked up the keys to our beach house, since the hotel was at capacity, and we started off down the street.  It felt like a ghost town, just a few street lights and not a person around, the wheels on our suitcases squeaked as they rolled along the sandy sidewalk. The beach house was nothing special, just a two story, undecorated rental, but the view was incredible. There was a jasmine bush next to the front door that produced the most wonderful, sweet floral scent, I took to taking deep breaths every time I went past. 

The next few days were a flurry of activity, with day trips to other tiny French towns, all of them celebrating freedom.  We were shocked at the kindness shown to us Americans and had a grand time meeting all kinds of people.  My brothers were a part of a reenactment for 101 Airborne and my sisters and I even got into the costumes thing as well.  A group of American veterans met up with our group. They told us story after story of the times they'd had and the things they'd seen, often stopping mid-sentence because the words wouldn't come out.  They were so brave.  Some of the men cried openly, remembering the friends they had lost and the ones who never came home.  They often told us that they weren't the real heroes "the men who died were the heroes, I was just lucky" they'd say  "We just did what we had to do."

The evening of June 6, 2011 our group hosted an old fashioned party to honor the vets and thank them as best we could.  It was held in this ancient french chateau and there was live USO Show style music and several special speeches throughout.  It was like traveling back in time. 

I sat in my chair and watched as my brothers stood on stage with the other men and veterans and I suddenly realized that it must have felt like just yesterday that these dear old men were young and strong, standing in uniform.  They once had sweethearts and family back at home and were full of hope (and a little bit of youthful stubbornness).  Not unlike my brothers at all. They had no idea what they were in for, nor, what they were capable of then.  And now, here they were, 60-something years later, looking back over a lifetime and remembering.  That changed me forever, I saw them in a completely different light.  So very human and mortal.

I was given a whole new appreciation for my Great Grandfather who was in Normandy at D-Day +10.  He was a wonderful man who was very close with my mother, but died when I was in my mid-teens.  He did some incredible things during his time in WWII, but rarely shared any of it.  We could only imagine what he had seen ten days after the invasion.  His war experiences were too traumatic to even speak of.  He was a real hero, but he would stick with the other vets and tell you everyday of the week that it wasn't him, it was the other guys who didn't come home who were the real heroes.  I'm so thankful for the brave men and women who have served our country.  And to God for letting me grow up in a country surrounded by freedom.

God bless America!