"I'm coming home/ made up my mind that's what I'm going to do/ Can't love nobody on the telephone/ I'm coming home to you"

Please don’t make me get in another vehicle for at least a month!!! I love to travel but I have to say that Ben and I are worn out. Christmas always brings lots of to and fro. But now that it’s January I’m ready for our cars and behinds to have a break. Just this past week I was in Huntsville three days in a row and then we went to my home town for the weekend, then Monday I was back in Huntsville!!! And to top it off I have a cold which is draining me of what little energy I had. God tells us to take a day of rest however; I’m tempted to take 10 in a row.

I say traveling to Huntsville three days in a row wore me out but honestly, when we first moved to Scottsboro, I thought I’d be there all the time. I assumed I’d still head to Publix for my groceries instead of facing my arch enemy Wal-Mart. Plus there is the wonderful world of Costco and my favorite nurseries: the Greenery and Bennett’s, all in Huntsville. How can I neglect the library? Though the Huntsville Library is not my favorite because of its dark 70s interior, it is stilled filled with a wealth of books. The first time I went to Scottsboro’s library I cried on the way home. It was so miniscule I really couldn’t believe it. Maybe this was a big deal to me because as a child the library was a favorite outing. Covington’s library was a world of magic, learning, and discovery with many books and sweet librarians always willing to help us. Ever since I have had a fondness for libraries which has only grown with time.

Yet I still don’t make it to Huntsville very often. I guess I’ve learned to conqueror monstrous Wal-Mart, though I still hate every minute of it. And I find the produce stands here in Scottsboro quite suffice. I’ve even enjoyed finding new little local shops. My favorite haunts include: Unique Treasures with its great selection of affordable antiques, Wimberley House for its wealth of cute décor, Unclaimed Baggage because, well…it’s Unclaimed Baggage, Goody Too Shoes with all their wonderful clothes, and a few others. And I can’t leave out Hammer’s. Some people might not believe me when I say I sometimes enjoy shopping in Scottsboro!

I can’t say I’m country and I worried that I wouldn’t fit-in in Scottsboro. But I’ve met the most fabulous people in our community. Our church is a big part of why we moved to Scottsboro in the first place. I can’t praise Riverside Community Church enough. Ben and I have found a home there and are thrilled to be a part of such a wonderful group of believers. I also love our street with so many friendly neighbors and families out in their yards together. I might not be the typical Scottsboro resident but who is “typical”? Our friends accept me as I am which makes me feel right at home.

I’ve learned that even though Scottsboro is small and rural it has some great things to offer. I still am longing for better restaurants, a nice grocery store, and a Chick-fil-A. I would also love to see a higher value placed on cultural items and the arts. But no town is perfect and I truly believe this is where Ben and I are supposed to be. I’m learning to feel at home here and really enjoy what North Alabama has to offer. However, I do still get misty eyed when I go to the library. I suppose that’s how it always is: the good with the bad. I worry that my children won’t have the same experiences I did, but I’m learning that’s ok, they’ll have their own…maybe Chattanooga has the magical library I’m longing for and it’s only a day trip away.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room!

Christmas was a wonderful time with family and friends. I really can’t believe it’s over and a new year will soon begin. And as always I wonder what this coming year will hold. 2009 was a bit crazy for Ben and me as I described in my last blog. It makes me think 2010 will hold even more nuttiness. And I, like millions of others, like to make resolutions. Now don’t make too much fun of them!!

New Year’s Resolutions 2010 (in no particular order)

· Walk at least four times a week!! I’m pretty bad about exercise but I’d like to change that.

· Continue to stay out of the sun/tanning beds. It has been a struggle ever since my mother sent out her Christmas card and I noticed that my face was so pale it resembled something out of the Twilight series. If anyone knows of a good self tanner please let me know!!

· Worry less, pray more. It’s always a resolution for me but I feel like this coming year I can look back and see how Amazingly God provided in 2009. His faithfulness to me in the midst of my struggles strengthens my resolve. And I have lately realized I just don’t pray enough. I want to go to God all the time, pray without ceasing. I need to rely on Him constantly because on my own I make a mess out of everything. My words and actions show that my heart is not relying on Christ. But I’m asking God to reveal more of Himself to me and mold me into something that will glorify Him and bless others. I’d love y’all to pray for me too!!!

· Be more kind, more loving, more submissive, and a better listener for my husband. God has provided me with “the one whom my soul longs” for, yet so many times he gets my frustration, shortness, and tiredness. Ben is a great, no wonderful, no fabulous, no incredible, no…you get the picture. I’d like to be the kind of wife that God lauds in the bible. The one who encourages, listens, and obeys her husband. I need A LOT more work. Ben can certainly attest to that. However, I hope that God will help me grow exponentially in 2010.

· Paint a room. I’ve never done that!! And paint a bedside table.

· Plant a tree in the back yard for shade. I’ve got it pick out, it’s digging the monster hole that overwhelms me.

· Clean more often. Ok, I’ll admit, I wait until the floors and shelves have layers of dust and grime on them before I pull out the dustier and mop. Then I crazy clean to make up for not doing it. I’m typically exhausted and moody by the end of the day. I’d like to start doing a little bit of cleaning more often. No promises….I’m just going to try.

· Stick to the budget better. I’m not going to go into details except the one telling y’all I’m horrible with budgets. Yeah for Doc and Jennifer’s class!!! I know Ben is longing for me to take lots of notes and put them to action.

· Laugh, I love to and it’s what I do best. It might be the one thing I’m actually good at!! So I need to laugh as much as possible.

· Make sure I tell people how great they are. I’m not exactly thoughtful but I’d like to be more so in 2010. I’m surrounded by so many amazing people at church, in my family, in my in-lawed family, etc. I want them to know how much they mean to me.

· Finish putting away Christmas decorations.

· Send out a Christmas card. I’ve made this resolution since Ben and I got married…maybe this is the year!

I’m sure more things will come to me in the weeks ahead but this list already seems a bit overwhelming so I’ll stop here. I hope all of you had a very merry Christmas filled with the joy of remembering Christ’s birth, the comfort of time spent with family, the merriment of opening gifts, and the love of our wonderful Savior.

So I quit writing in my blog but after months/years away and a little encouragement from others I thought I’d pick right back up. I’d like to start with a few quick updates. We are now in Scottsboro which I enjoy though I do reminisce about Publix and Target quite a bit. I’m currently staying at home tending the house while Ben works his tail end off at Tennessee River Steel.

Friends and family I’m in a bit of shock that it’s almost Christmas. WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS YEAR?!! It was a crazy year for both Ben and me with moving, work, and all the things that life throws our way. But, by the grace of God, we made it through. I was just discussing with my wonderful mother that when you are young it seems like you have a choice between a hard thing and an easy thing. Yet now it seems my choices are often between something hard and harder. Life never ceases to throw more at us each year. But God is sovereign and He is good. He knows I need those hard things thrown my way so that I will cling more fervently to Him. Sad to say but true. My mind often clings to things that will quickly pass but the cross bids me come and die.

That dying can be utterly painfully but I’m finding the joy of living in Christ to far exceed the momentary pain. Isn’t our God kind?! That in the midst of trials (most of which I bring on myself) He can provide peace and joy. I get work up about a plethora of things…most of which aren’t worth the effort. But God comes to my aid when I feel I can’t take one more thing. He might not take my trial away but the Holy Spirit leads me to look beyond, to Him. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a very self centered person. Anyone who knows me can attest to that. :) Many times I don’t want to go to God with my trails because I resent what He will ask of me. I kick and kick for days, weeks, months to avoid what I know is required. However, when my fighting has ceased and I finally run to our awesome God, He is there with love, rebuke and GRACE!! He doesn’t give up on me.


Totally off subject but I also wanted to tell y’all that I caved. Ben has been drooling over motorcycles for awhile now and I gave him the go ahead. Now I’m sure many of you think I’m utterly insane. My parents have known that for years. And you are going to think I’m really crazy when I say: I think it might be fun. Me on the back of a motorcycle seems pretty humorous but what the heck. Actually he has already taken me for a spin. It was around 9pm Tuesday. It was cold so I threw sweat pants (that have gaping holes in them) on over my pjs. I also donned my crocs over my fuzzy house socks. I told Ben we mustn’t run into anyone. I mean what were the odds?!! We only know half the people on our street!! We zipped along in the frigid air and ran into Scott Parr. Sweet Scott laughed his head off and TOOK A PICTURE OF ME. Sweet, sweet Scott, I shall get my revenge.

All that to say Ben and I are now the proud owners of a motorcycle. You probably wonder if I am in fear for his life. I do worry a bit but Ben is responsible, smart, and an insanely wonderful husband. A motorcycle might not be the safest hobby but in my book he could make a worse decision. I also have to say that it makes my heart leap seeing him so thrilled and excited about something. And biker babe just has a nice ring to it doesn’t it!!!

"Sometimes I feel like, I've never been nothin' but tired, And I'll be walkin', Till the day I expire"

" Sometimes I feel like/ I've never been nothing but tired/ And I'll be walking/Till the day I expire/ Sometimes I lay down/No more can I do/ But then I go on again/Because you ask me to"

It seems as if it has been a lifetime since I have blogged. Though, much has happened since my last post. I finally retired from the world of banking!!!! My last day was a little earlier than planned, Aug. 26. You would think that no longer working would lend me considerably more time to blog, but this hasn’t been the case. For one thing, I am not at a computer all day, and the one we have at home is pretty slow. And secondly, I stay much busier at home. I was telling my mom yesterday that being a full time house wife is not a glamorous job. You have to make sacrifices when there is only one income, you don’t get much praise or any promotions, and most of the tasks are menial and have to be repeated everyday. BUT, I still feel much more accomplished at the end of the day than I did at the bank. I also feel that my time has been spent doing something that matters, at least to our family. And I feel that communication with Ben is so much better because we are not both drained. It’s not glamorous in a worldly since but I am content and feel this is where God has called me to be. What could be more glamorous and altogether fulfilling than being where God wants me?!!

Although I hadn’t expected quitting on that date it worked out great because Ben and I were able to leave early on Friday to head to the first Auburn game. WAR EAGLE!!! It was a great weekend even though it was really hot and humid. We ate good food, watched tons of football, shopped down town, and cheered like crazy at the game. It was great but I still can’t believe another football season is here. Time seems to pass much more quickly now that I’m married. I don’t know where the summer went. Yet, I am excited about the fall; the cool weather, pumpkin carving, crisp apples, jeans and sweatshirts, and all the holidays.

The weekend after our venture to AU we headed to Birmingham for my cousin Mark’s wedding. He is the youngest cousin on my dad’s side of the family, and we are closest in age. His wedding was tons of fun because we were able to see both sides of the family. We stayed with my mom’s parents. Ben and I arrived pretty early on Friday because he had a meeting. It worked out great because I was able to chat with Granny and Granddaddy before everyone arrived. The ladies, which included my mom, Granny, Dana, Grammy, and I, all went to lunch while the boys played golf. After lunch my mom, Dana, and I all headed off to shop. We ended up at Talbot’s finding things to autumize my mom’s wardrobe. It was so much fun because Dana and I voted as my mom modeled. After the shopping we quickly changed and headed to the Rehearsal dinner. It was a ton of fun hearing all Mark and Kalia’s friends toast and mainly roast them. The next day our family hosted a brunch at my grandparent’s country club. We had some bum around time in the afternoon and then we headed off to the wedding. The flowers were amazing!! They were everywhere in beautiful, huge arrangements. And of course Kalia looked like a supermodel…she is very tall, very slim, very tan, and very sweet. The reception was also amazing with lovely flowers and a spectacular view of Birmingham. I think the best part was my Grandmother getting up on stage with the band and dancing away to a rap song. It was hilarious. The night ended and the next day after lunch with my mom’s family was over, Ben and I headed back home.

This past weekend was not quite so eventful. I was looking forward to a weekend at home because of all our travel. And because I have been waking up at 4am for the last several days. It is just now 5:20am as I type this. Needless to say, I was looking forward to rest. Friday Ben and I went and saw Tyler Perry’s The Family that Preys. We have become huge fans of his is the last few months. His movies talk about serious topics with lots of humor, honesty, no nudity, rarely much langue, and from a pretty Godly perspective as far as Hollywood is concerned. We both loved the movie. Saturday we just bummed around. I fixed a big breakfast and then went outside to read a bit. We made it to Pet Smart to get Lilly’s nails clipped. But as the day progressed I began to feel worse and worse: tired and achy. I assumed it was just from all my early mornings. That night before bed I took my temperature and had a fever of 102 but we thought the thermometer might be broken. The next morning Ben bought a new one and I still had a fever of 101. I didn’t have any flu like symptoms but I was just worn out all day. Monday I awoke with a temperature of 100.6 and it steadily went down all day. By around 3 o’clock I was fever free, and though I awoke at around 3:45am this morning, I am feeling much better. I hate being sick and am glad it was a quick bug.

Well, I guess that catches everyone up on the past few weeks of my life. Sorry, it was probably a frightfully boring read but I felt compelled to post and catch up on life’s little events. I will try to be more faithful though the months ahead will be insanely busy for Ben and me. Hope everyone has a wonderful Week!!!

Note: I actually typed this blog Tuesday morning but did not post till now J

"Our house is a very, very fine house, With two cats in the yard, Life use to be so hard, Now everything is easy cause of YOU"

The misery of selling a house. I can tell you that it is NO fun AT all. I’m a planner. I have an agenda and I always have lists everywhere. As a person my emotions are volatile and my art oriented brain tends to think a little wacky so I like order everywhere else in my life. I like steady. It’s one of the things that drew me to Ben; his steadiness in the midst of my craziness. Selling a house does not fit into the pattern I like. God is definitely trying to hammer some patience into my stubborn heart.

There are two reasons selling a house makes me crazy. The first is having to clean the house in a split second because some one wants to see it in an hour. Yesterday, during my lunch, I scrubbed tile in our shower and Windexed windows in my work clothes. I came back to work pitted out and smelling of Clorox wipes. It’s not that I hate cleaning so much; it’s just that I hate not having advance notice. My mom teases me because when I know people are coming over I have a set cleaning routine. I think part of this is due to the fact that when one is off at work all day it’s hard to fit all the cleaning in and it’s the last thing I want to do at 8pm at night. I would not say I am a total slob, I HAVE to have a clean kitchen and I’d say I keep some areas up to pare. But I’m a project person, so there is always random stuff lying about. And it seems that I can never get on top of clutter that creeps in everyday. Where the heck does that stuff come from?!! Another difference is that it’s not my mom coming over, it’s random people that I don’t know so I feel like toothbrushes and birthday cards must disappear. All the personal effects must be (literally) swept under the rug or in the nearest cabinet. Ben and I have so often rushed to hide things in random drawers that we can’t seem to find anything.

Yet God grant grace, even for the cleaning. Monday I had back home bread and fix shrimp and grits so the evening had been full. But I still had an itch to clean, partly due to the fact that my brother and sister-in-law will be coming in this Friday. I worked hard that night to scrub the kitchen and make sure the guest room was looking nice. I even made an attempt to get on top of that endless clutter. And when Tuesday morning came I actually neatly, made the bed and tidied up our toiletries before work. All this is to say, the house was in more order than usual. So when Ben called yesterday to say I needed to clean during lunch because people wanted to see the house, I was not thrilled but I had a doable amount of work. I even thought, as sweat trickled down my back while wiping our bathroom counter, that God might be helping me to learn to be more orderly.

However I am in need of God’s grace when it comes to timing. This is the second item which I despised about selling. You have worked your heart out to make your home shine to the buyer. It is houses which you love, have made so many memories in, but know it is time to leave. And they come and peak into your life, yet you have no idea of their judgment. You don’t know if they will call or not. And if they don’t, what was wrong with this home you love so much. The unknown. I hate it. I like things to flow from one situation to the next. When I make a decision I want the consequential action to be taken immediately. The timing of selling our house is driving me a bit coo-coo.

Once again, I must remember that God is both sovereign and good. He has a plan for me and it is good. He has also given me tools to use to handle the trial ahead. Soon I will be through with work (yippee for Sept 3) and be able to spend the bulk of my time on keeping up our house. I count this as a blessing from God. His way of giving me a break during the insanity. He has also given me a loving husband who works extremely hard to keep me happy. Ben has been a rock since day one of our marriage and continues to be even when I’m nuts. And greatest of all, God has given me Himself to lean on and rely on. All I must do is submit. I’m stubborn and do not come by submitting naturally but God is wooing me as He always does. His love and comfort are undeniable far greater than anything here on earth. I know that if I open my heart to Him He will teach me great things in the midst of my trials and refine me. I must not be scare of having to be refined but run to it.

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart; Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

"Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light."

Lately I have been absorbed in post about “mommy-hood” and the tasks of staying at home. I will soon be quitting work (yippee) to pursue this role. Though I am not a mother yet, I hope to be one in the not too distant future. And lately my mind has been on Homeschooling; if, when the time comes, I should pursue this option with my children. My heart says yes, “it would be wonderful”; but my mind says: “what are you thinking?!…are you nuts!!! You don’t have the abilities needed for that…things like patience and intelligence…you really shouldn’t.” Alas, I am hoping that when the time comes my heart and mind will be on the same page.

I wrote on my homeschooling experience a little while back and decided to post my views. Hopefully, the words will encourage those who choose to teach at home; and give insight to those who don’t. I know it is a huge decision and I want people to understand why I might choose this route some day. God give me the grace when the time is needed to choose the option that will produce children whose sole purpose is to glorify You!

Southern Bell
Dixie land, the Bible belt, this is where I grew up. My home town of Covington lies forty-five minutes south east of Atlanta, which gives some people the idea that I am from a the big city; however, this is far from the truth. The little square in Covington which contains Claudia’s Flowers, Ace Hardware, and the Court House, is the heart of the town. We do have a Kroger’s and a Wal-Mart, but there are not any malls or fancy restaurants. The town is growing fast because of its close proximity to Atlanta and I suppose one day it will just be part of the urban sprawl, but I will always remember it as the “one horse town” in which I spent my childhood. Nevertheless, my childhood was slightly different than some of my friends. Like many southern children I grew up playing in red Georgia clay and going to visit our grazing cows on sunny afternoons. However, my education did not start in a preschool with ten other children.

My Mother is from Alabama and my Father is from Dalton, Georgia. They met at school in Vanderbilt and eventually moved to Covington where my father started his medical practice. Going against the tide, my mother decided to home-school my two older brothers and I because she was unhappy with the public school systems in the town. Two of her close friends also decided that home-schooling was the best option for their children. Soon several families had started to home-school and agreed to start a group. They named the group Excel as a reminder of their goals for their children: to excel in school, and in the knowledge of God. Excel met weekly for group activities and frequent field trips. The rest of the week my brothers and I would eagerly get up at dawn with the aim of finishing our school work early.

History and literature were normally the first classes of the day. A Child’s History of the World told us who Zeus was, how pyramids were made, where Columbus landed, and why the North and South raged against one another in the Civil War. My mother strived to make events of the past interesting to us by incorporating skits, art projects, and anything else that would help us learn. Henry, my middle brother, and I ate pomegranate as we played kings and queens of long ago empires. A time line stretched across the kitchen counter where I was able to display my artistic talents by adding pictures to note historic events. I can remember drawing the pyramids of Egypt and Moses as he parted the Red Sea. My brothers and I also built miniature teepees while learning about the Native Americans. We often spun the globe and where it stopped was the next country to visit. Home-schooling allowed my brothers and I to learn through interaction instead of merely sitting in a class room and listening to a teacher drone on about history. I had an appreciation of the world and all its many wonders which stimulated my yearning to travel, and to taste the foods in their countries of origin.

Soon the aroma of foreign foods was a distant memory and I had to learn mathematics. My mother tried her best to make the subject interesting but my art-oriented brain rebelled. Flash cards and videos were only a part of my mother’s effort. It seemed we owned every “learn math in no time” book, game, or pamphlet. I have numerous memories of sitting at the “little table,” a miniature table that still holds its place of prominence in our kitchen, and trying to memorize eight times seven. My mother taught me all the tricks, such as using your fingers to multiply by nine and many other ploys. Eventually multiplication tables engraved themselves on my brain and long-hand division started to come naturally. Before long “Nock-out,” a math game, did not seem such a daunting task and became enjoyable. Math still is not a subject I enjoy but thanks to my mom’s persistence I can now add and subtract without too much trouble.

I preferred science to math because my father came home everyday at lunch to teach me the unexplained mysteries of the universe. Roy G Biv was the anachronism my father taught me for the colors of the rainbow. Sitting around our table Dad taught me how I was made up of little tiny things called atoms that worked together to form my fingers and toes. He showed me how I and all things were unique and had our own special traits. Learning the difference between vertebrates and invertebrates always seemed a struggle but my father frequently reminded me that it would take diligence and hard work to progress. On sunny days cumulus and sires clouds were prevalent as my father explained precipitation and condensation. Mount Saint Helen was recreated in the backyard as chemicals flowed out of our paper Mache volcano. My father was a hard teacher and expected much from me but he also loved science and his teaching glowed with his enthusiasm. He believed that God’s handiwork displayed itself throughout the wonders of science, and showed how His fingertips touch all of creation. A butterfly was the artistic expression of God.

God seemed to be prevalent in science but He was no where to be seen when it came to my ability to read. English was difficult because, try as I might, I could not learn to read. My mother was my source of encouragement because she believed that children learned at their own time, and she had no doubt that I would accomplish the task. Poster saying “Never Give Up!” and “Every Expert was Once a Beginner” littered our walls in my mother’s hope to encourage me. However, I thought I was truly stupid and could never learn. In a public school my ideas about myself would have been reinforce because they would have held me back or put me in special classes. But I was doing well in all my other courses and my mother knew that I would catch on. I learned through Phonics like many children; it merely took me longer to catch on. Finally, with time and much practice, my reading improved. Because of my mothers faith in me I was able to learn to read and enjoy it as well. I was captivated as a new world of adventure opened to me. Books now became an escape in which I could lose myself; traveling to distant lands, meeting Kings and Queens. I sat at the Round Table with Arthur’s men and heard tales of Arabia through my journey in books.

Our course material was made by Calvert, a school in Baltimore, Maryland. They had set reading assignments everyday, but I always read ahead and finished books early. Writing was never as much fun as reading but it was a large requirement in Calvert. I had a journal that I kept daily, which still makes me laugh when I read the entries. Short papers were also required, along with special outlines. Calvert had one outline that was called the spider because there was a bubble for the main idea and then multiple circles branching off. I learn to brain storm and write in a somewhat orderly fashion, but to my mother’s dismay I never liked outlines. I prefer to write as things came to me and hope the words were had some semblance of coherency.

I visited many places through books, but I was also able to go on trips with Excel. Soda sprayed out of the ceiling as our home-school group tasted all the different flavored soft drinks at the World of Coke. I discovered Norman Rockwell was my favorite painter at a trip to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta. Panda bears from Japan and a prowling tiger were just a few of the animals I was able to see on frequent trips to the zoo. While Native American mounds were intriguing at the Indian reservation; Six Flags was even more exciting and a group favorite because the lines were so short on home-school days. We tasted delicious cookie dough as batter swirled in industrial size mixtures on a Jacquelyn’s bakery outing. Although we did not go to Gettysburg, we watched as soldiers shot cannons and brothers fought each other in battle reenactments. Field trips with Excel are some of the best memories I have of home-schooling. The trips open a whole new world to me and exposed me to things and ideas that I probably would not have experienced had I been at a public school.

Leisure time was spent painting flowers in Ms. V’s art class or tumbling in gymnastics. My brothers and I also enjoyed going to the library as often as possible to hear story book readers or watch Curious George on an old slide projector. The Library was three stories with the bottom as the children’s area. The stairway down was painted with scenes from different children’s stories. Wilber, Corduroy, and Winnie the Pooh greeted us as we rushed down the steps to find our choice of ten books; a rule which my mom imposed to keep us from trying to carry forty books back to the house. My mother often took away our television when she thought we were watching it too much; hence, being a coach potato was never part of my day. Many Saturday mornings were spent in the back yard jumping into piles of leafs we had just racked, while our friends watched Saturday morning cartoons. We just recently acquired a satellite because my parents hold to the idea that television only hinders the imagination. When I got a little older our church started a girls group that met on Wednesday nights to try our hand at quilting. It seemed to take a life time to finish my log cabin quilt but I also had a wonderful time talking and laughing with friends as we poked ourselves with needles.

I have never regretted my years spent learning with my brother’s about arithmetic and writing. My mother exemplified everything a teacher should: she believed in hard work, strong discipline, and also the idea that learning could be fun. But most of all, she loved us and always had our welfare at heart. Home-schooling gave me the opportunity to be educated in an environment which allowed me to learn at my own pace and encouraged me to use my imagination. I also was able to develop a close relationship with my parents since they were such an integral part of my learning. But most importantly, it grounded me in my faith in Christ. Everyday the importance of Christ was reaffirmed and absolute truth was taught. I sometimes wonder at the person I would be had my younger, most impressionable years not been spent in the care of a mother, whose chief purpose was to raise children who loved the lord.

While home-schooling was a wonderful time in my life, I would soon decide to go off to school because I wanted to be in a class with children my own age. I would start a Piedmont academy my seventh grade year, which was very difficult for me but soon turned into a great experience. Yet, home-schooling would always be my fondest memories: my brother’s, my mother, and I all together learning about the world and all that God had endowed it with.

"Blue, Blue windows behind the stars, Yellow moon on the rise, Big birds flying across the sky, Throwing shadows on our eyes."

A continuation of Canada memories…

As you can see from the past post, Ahmic is quite routine and unchanged by time or events. I think it is that which has made me so completely in love with the Lake; the unchanging, in the midst of change and chaos. My time on the lake has always been defining. Possibly, because it is there that I reflect and think on the numerous events of life. It is there that I find solace in the past and traditions. I am a free person but I have always loved the routine of Ahmic; no surprises, because the bells will ring heck or high water. It reminds me of our relationship in Christ. His laws are not meant to bind us down but to free us of our sinful live. Ahmic is full of routines but it never feels binding.

I remember finding such comfort in all that Ahmic is the summer after my seventh grade year in high school. It was my first year off to school, because my mother had home schooled me till then. It was one of the toughest years of my life. I learned the reality that I did not look to the world like I looked to my mother. I learned that not everyone thought my laugh as cute as my Father. I learned that I did not really fit in. I wore home made bell bottoms in a school full of wranglers and loved to read while those around me loved country music. I made it through the year, but I was ready for summer. Summer that brought outings to the pool, watermelon, fresh tomatoes, and most importantly, a trip to Needle Point.

We drove the long 22hours, like we had done before, passing the time with books on tape. I always loved seeing the first few white birch trees standing out among the forest because I knew I was only hours away . Soon after the birches, we would reach the Mag (Magnetawan). The air seemes to change as Ahmic nears. It becomes more pure, permeated with the smell of earth and fir trees. I can recall Granddaddy waiting at the dock with Tug Boat Annie. Tog Boat Annie is famous on the lake for being one of the most beautiful wooden boats in the area. It is large boat with a small cabin and lovely wood work. It is like stepping into a time capsule. Granddaddy hugged us all and help load our luggage. We set off in the misty afternoon air towards Needle Point.

Every year, Granddaddy would put up flags with symbols which we would rush to decode. They flapped in the wind as we made our way to the dock. Here I was, a million miles a way from the kids who had teased me, the petty fights over best friends, and all my insecurities. I was with family, family that loved me despite my shortcomings. I was in Canada, where I could sing at the top of my lungs all the way to Edmund’s Thumb (a granite outcropping); or I could still pretend to be the Little Mermaid as I swam to the Island. It didn’t matter. On Ahmic things were the same as they had always been, so I was free to be whoever. It was a summer of bliss.

I imagine my Grandfather felt much like this the summer after the war. He was a pilot for the Marines in WWII. He had lost one of his best friends during the War, Cousin Howdy, who used to summer in Canada as well. There is an old, faded photograph of Cousin Howdy and Granddaddy, arms around each other’s shoulders, huge smiles on their faces, standing on a sail boat. I can only imagine the escape Ahmic felt like for Granddaddy. I think of him coming up, much the same way I did, in a car, and sighing as he got his first breath of Ahmic air. I imagine him unpacking at Indian Point, putting his clothes away, and setting his uniform aside. Howey was not there to fish and swim with, but I’d like to think that Ahmic was still a place of peace for Granddaddy; where he could remember Howdy as the happy and good humored friend he had been. I can see Granddaddy diving into the cold smooth waters as he still does today, laughing as a shiver ran through him. How far away the world’s troubles must have felt.

I can see my Grandmother too, dignified as always. She once told us that she had not liked Ahmic from the beginning. It amazed all of us for she loves it now. She came up, the new bride, and found she was in the middle of nowhere with tons of family and every woman wanting to be “mother Hen.” I can visualize her brushing her coiffed locks and wondering who she can play bridge with and how she will ever suffer through the summer. But Granny is not one to complain. She is one to do whatever needs doing, and being in her eighties has not slowed her down. I can see her putting to order what once was chaos; young and beautiful, helping wash dishes without a complaint. I imagine her and Granddaddy’s excitement as they built Needle Point, establishing their own camp. She would now run her own house, tend the garden, and make sure that the hummingbirds where all fed. Granny was and will forever in my mind be the Matriarch of Needle Point.

I think of my Grandparents lives and how they have been so defining to my own life. I think of how much they have done to make Needle Point the place that I remember: full of traditions, good food and laughter. My Grandparents have been an integral part of all my family’s summer trips. I did not realize their essential role on the lake until this summer. It was mentioned at lunch that this would most likely be their last trek to Ahmic. My heart lurched and tears formed in my eyes. My grandparents are now in their mid and late eighties. Although we all knew that one day the rigors of life on the rugged terrain of Canada would be too much, I had pushed it to the back of my mind.

My Grandfather has hurt his leg and is moving slower in general, and although my grandmother is still sharp as a tack, her body is starting to fail her. I want what is best for them but I cannot imagine Ahmic without Granddaddy telling funny jokes or Granny making strawberry preserves. I have always felt that it is a magical place but now, as I come to the realization that they will not be the faces that greet me, I feel they were the magic. It was Granddaddy whose happy smile made my day when I would bring him back sugar babies and black licorice from town. It was Granny who let me help with flower arranging even though I was awkward and clumsy. It was my grandparents who took me on canoe trips and taught me how to paddle. It was Granddaddy who made Henry and I cry from giggles as he snored loud enough to shake the room. It was Granny who taught us card games and helped us with puzzles on rainy afternoons. It was my grandparents who cultivate my love of this beautiful and majestic place. They were the reason that we all longed to be in Canada. It was their love that made it magical.

I hope that the fall will revive them and they will be able to spend yet another summer on the tranquil waters. I hope to one day bring my own children to Ahmic and let them feed Chippy, the pet chipmunk we train every summer. But I want to tell them about my Grandparents as well. I want them to know all that was done before them so that they could enjoy the beauty of Ahmic. I will tell them all of Granddaddy’s funny jokes and let them know that he is where I get my insatiable sweet tooth. I will show them Granny’s flower gardens and try to attempt her strawberry preserves. I will try and make Ahmic as enchanting as Granny and Granddaddy made it for me. It is a place of rest, of laughter, of feasting, of love, and a place where bells sound every day.

***the picture are from years past but I thought y'all might enjoying seeing them