On Humility...

During these past few weeks I feel like I’ve been taking lessons from God on how to be humble.


Let me be blunt: I have not learned to like my job. I have tried, trust me. There are aspects of it that I really love – meeting people, working as a team, all the sweet tea one can consume – but for the most part, I just haven’t really enjoyed it. Since I work front of the house with the girls, I interact with them mostly. I felt for a while that I just wasn’t connecting with any of them. Sure, we chatted daily and shared laughs, but they were momentary and shallow. There really was no depth to our conversations, and I hated taking orders from someone younger and less qualified than me.

So, a few weeks ago I applied for another job. A job that I reeeeallly want; it’s in a field I’ve always dreamed of working in: Advertising. When I first applied I thought, this agency is so intimidating; I will never get this position; I have no experience. But then I would go to work at my current job and think, wow, I am so overqualified for this position. I have a degree and I am currently an overpaid (I wont complain about that) cashier slowly (like, molasses slowly) training my way to a management position. I already have management experience - at a restaurant just as successfull! But I understand that these things take time and that sometimes you have to crawl even after you have learned to walk rather well (heck, I’ve been running for years).

But, my pride kept nudging me to apply elsewhere, which I did, to the aforementioned agency. And I got an interview! Which went rather well I might add. I immediately wanted to put in my two-weeks at that other place of course. But I knew the smart thing to do was to wait.

One particular day, while waiting to hear back from the Agency, I thought to myself, You know, I should be thankful I even have a job. And it really isn’t THAT bad. I shouldn’t be so prideful, what if I don’t even get this other job?

So I said a little prayer before work. I asked God that he would please open the hearts of these girls, that we could connect on a level deeper than “Oh, yes, the tea isn’t sweet enough today.”

It wasn’t until literally a few moments after “Amen” that one of the girls came to me with a tip on how to properly store a used whisk. Normally, I would have proudly (and wrongly I’ll admit) rolled my eyes and complied. But I just smiled and nodded and said, “Thank you, I didn’t know that.”

Talk about a door-opener. That one comment about the whisk led to other conversations. Shortly after, a question of mine led to a very honest conversation about her beliefs in God and our different relationships with Christ. In fact, I almost cried when she told me she calls God her “daddy” because her own father passed away five years ago and Jesus has been the only positive male influence since then! This conversation started at the beginning of our shifts, and gave me a very positive attitude for the entire day. When the other girls arrived my heart had changed so much that we all chatted in our spare time about everything from Christmas to Ugg boots.

I left work that afternoon very satisfied, and wondering exactly why that had happened. I understand this was a lesson on humility – that our pride can only negatively affect us and that when we open our hearts we are rewarded so much more. But I couldn’t help but to think, what if this happened because this is where I belong? Maybe I don’t get this job at the ad agency and this is God’s way of making me happy here?

Or maybe it was just God’s way of saying, “Hey, I’m listening!” Of course, the ad agency would be much better for my career, and the place I would prefer to work. But, life has a way of choosing for you, I suppose. I had a second interview with the agency today and I feel like they really want me. However, they are pending a very large account (the account that would expand them to need more hires) and my job depends on this account. It feels SO much like Vegas all over again. For those who aren’t aware, there was an incredibly huge promotional opportunity for a pending account in Vegas at my old job. After weeks and weeks of waiting (and two fun-filled trips out West) the account was secured, people were hired and I was looking for a rental house. At the last minute, just when I was getting spoiled rotten, things fell apart.

And yet, here I am again. Waiting and waiting and waiting.

But I trust that I am here for a reason. That I should follow my heart and be optimistic no matter the situation. After all, things could always be much worse, and I’ve got a pretty cool guy on my side :)

Autumn Goodies

Even though the weather is still a bit warm here in Alabama, it is officially Fall! My favorite season. To celebrate, Craig and I put up the decorations we bought weeks ago (I’m a little overzealous I suppose), and started with the “charming” (if you remember my blog about the Big Decision) approach to Autumn.



I dont know why this picture is coming out sideways, but it's driving me crazy and is the only scarecrow picture I have :(

I love the scarecrow, but it still scares me EVERY time I walk past the front door. It’s not that it’s scary, in fact it looks more like a little woman than anything, it’s just startling to see someone on your front porch.

Since we love decorating so much, we decided to finish the spare bedroom last weekend, too. Craig and I both have a problem with shiftlessness – the weekends aren’t made for relaxing, they’re made for getting things done or going places!

Anyway, I’m very excited Fall is here, and my next project is creating a super-cool Halloween outfit….whatever it may be.

Oh, and I have fantastic news – Craig and I just booked pre-sale tickets (thank you Neil and American Express!) to see The Nutcracker at the New York City Ballet this winter! I cannot express how happy this makes me. I have been wanting to do this since I was sixteen years old, and Craig is making it happen for us :)  Did I mention we have first ring, first row tickets? Those are second best, following only the exclusive Orchestra sweet seats. I am so blessed!

Good Stuff

A friend shared this video on Facebook and I thought I'd share with you all since I love it so much. Especially the guy in the gray shirt and shades who belts out the chorus; he's fantastic.

If it werent for the disruptive laughter I'd try to download it to listen to during a good workout. It's just about as good as the original from Lady Gaga herself! Unfortunately I can't share the video, but I can share the link, included below:

Amazing


And here's the original, just for fun:

Day of Birth

On the anniversary of the day of my birth, aka my birthday, Craig took me after a long day of work to buy me a new camera. I am now the proud owner of a beautiful black Nikon d5000. I have fallen in love with its manual zoom and focus, and quick shutter speed. I think the boyfriend has gotten a little jealous that my eyes are always behind the lens, but he understands.

For the weekend, he thoroughly spoiled me.

We took the causeway over the Mobile Bay and to the Easter Shore. The cities of Fairhope, Daphne, Point Clear and Gulf Shores make up this gorgeous, tree-filled area. The houses are well-maintained, and the residents take a lot of pride in their property. It's like going back in time when we travel through the area (we go antiquing in Fairhope on some weekends).

Craig booked a private boat tour of the Bay for the two of us. The captain was a lady named Cindy, a native of Mobile and avid boater. Very educated on the area, she informed us all kinds of insider information, including what kinds of fish are best caught and where.

I could totally get used to this

We cruised down the Fish River, where the wide width of the water allowed for boaters to tug skiers or tubers.We journeyed into an area called Magnolia Springs, where oak trees dripped Spanish moss into emerald waters. The boathouses, rather than the actual houses, had mailboxes! A lucky mailman, don't you think?

The terrible news is that at this point, my brand new Nikon malfunctioned. The display screen turned white and all my pictures viewed as white screens. I tried not to be distraught but I was highly upset. I had to remind myself that pictures are not everything, and to enjoy the moment that Craig had planned so carefully.  I said a little prayer and after a few minutes on the boat, I was much better. Plus, we had brought the old Nikon just incase.

(since then I have had the camera replaced, and even got $55 out of it! Apparently it went on sale the day after Craig bought it.)

We docked at a riverside restaurant called Big Daddy's where we ate fried crawfish tails and Gulf crab claws. Yummy. Actually, it wasn't that great - there was little seasoning and the crawfish was bland. But the atmosphere was great!

We finally finished our trip after about 5 hours. Craig took me our last and final stop for the night - The Grand Hotel.

Talk about luxury.

The Grand, as the locals call it, is a Marriott resort. Brick columns and dark green wood make up the exterior of the buildings, which wrap around a lagoon on one side and back up to the bay on the other. Our room overlooked a small marina where sailboats were docked. The breeze blew and the waves lapped against the boats while the ropes on the masts clinked in turns. It sounded so wonderful we slept with the french doors open.

We enjoyed dinner at the Captain's Dining Room, a small, private restaurant with a piano player and delicious food. I had a banana-crusted Hawaiian bass over veggie spring rolls, and table-side bananas foster (which wasnt as good as it was in New Orleans - the waiter didnt cook all of the alcohol out). Craig enjoyed the Dover sole. Yummy.

After dinner we took a walk down to the docks and sat on a wooden swing to relax.



This reminded me so much of one of my favorite books, The Great Gatsby; that symbolic

red light on the other side of the bay

The next day we drank mint juleps and pedicures! It was Craig's first pedi and he thoroughly enjoyed it. I knew he would. What I didn't know was that he liked canary yellow nail polish.

But, he resisted.

It was a wonderful trip and birthday present, and I'm very thankful to be with someone that cares so much to plan it out just to my liking :)

Plus, now he wants a boat, which I am happy to have helped pursuade him with that decision.

New Orleans

I’ve been so busy lately and it has been evident in my lack of recent posts! I do apologize, but being busy is normally a good thing, and for me it has been.

Craig and I spent the Labor day weekend in the great city of New Orleans. I think one thing that makes New Orleans so special is the fact that it’s always so different on each trip. Not just in the changing galleries or boutiques or events, but also in the type of crowd, the different musicians and peddlers in the street, the experiences. The fire in the gas lanterns seem to flicker less, the wood on the doors crack deeper, the paint chip more freely. Not that the city is falling apart, we all know the Hell it's been through, but that it's aging with character, like the deep wrinkles around the eyes of a woman who has known many loves.

But you know what my second favorite thing to do in New Orleans is?


To get lost.
That’s after eating, of course.


We spent a day walking through the grid-lined streets of the French Quarter with absolutely no particular destination in mind. We admired the art in galleries and vintage furniture in antique shops. Craig pointed out a chandelier in the French Antique Shop Co. for $400,000!

I real beaut, but geez you’d need a mortgage for that. We dined in the famous Court of Two Sisters, where the table-side bananas foster was the best I’ve ever had, but the table-side cooking show wasn't that impressive.


 Preservation Hall was incredible!

What I love so much about the Hall is that it still has that feel of antiquity. The lights are a dim orange, the cork-board walls weathered with age and the brass instruments gleam on rickety wooden chairs. The jazz musicians tap their feet to the beats, and during the solo of one, the others nod in enchantment . I remember these things as if they happened in sepia, like the brown-washed picture in my mind of the singer standing to belt out a tune that was a little off-tune. He was fantastic.

If you’re ever in New Orleans for a couple of days you have to take a day to venture just a short drive west and visit the Oak Alley Plantation.

the breathtaking view from the veranda

The two-story Greek revival house rests among 600 acres of sugar cane. Twenty eight live oaks line the cobblestone driveway in perfect symmetry from the front door to the iron gate, separating the manicured grass from the slight hill that protects the land from the mighty Mississippi river. Take a house tour given by a Southern belle, historically dressed, and enjoy a mint julep on the second floor veranda, where the view of the driveway is absolutely stunning. The early morning or evening hours are the best times to go for photographs, as the light pours in at different angles and the sun paints the sky in magical hues. If you experience a surge of serenity and don’t feel the need to leave, you don’t necessarily have to –the house is also a Bed and Breakfast, and you might get lucky and snag a room!

Monday we ventured into the Louisiana bayou and took a swamp tour with Cajun Adventures. We had a choice of three boats – two covered and one uncovered – and chose the uncovered one for the better view. All three boats were full! The swamp business is booming this year!

We came across several alligators, ranging in age and length (they grow about a foot a year) from tiny babies to large seven-footers. Our Captain, Bishop, who had an intense (and sexy) Cajun accent, threw marshmallows out to the gators to bait them towards the boat (the effervescence attracts them) and then fed them hotdogs from a stick only about two feet long. The gators would stick their tails straight up, as if for leverage, and then lunge half of their body length out of the water for the small snack. It was thrilling to be so close to an alligator in feeding action. Craig was sitting against the side of the boat and could reach down and grab their tails!

"Jimmy" doing a trick

They were cute, with their individual personalities and seemingly playful nature. Of course, these gators are in protected waters and are used to being fed, but it was both educating and entertaining. Besides, any ride on a boat and I’m a happy girl!

That’s all for now!

Magic Grows Sweet Legumes - a tribute to Moultrie, Georgia

Everyone knows of Atlanta, perhaps even the smaller city of Macon, Georgia. And Athens, too, thanks to college football. But those skyscrapers and football fields have stripped the land of its southern enigma; to find the secrets of Georgia that have long been buried, but not forgotten, one must discover its small towns first. I began with the city of Moultrie.



The noon sun rested beside feathery white clouds as I made my way down the long sweep of US 319. A railroad track stretched alongside me, visible behind the roadside brush only by the X-shaped caution markers where the highway forked into small, disappearing roads. To my right lolled groves of hickory, where sunlight splotches painted green grass gold. To my left were staggered fields, farm lands empty but of sticks poking out of the ground as the spiny remains of cotton in the cool November dirt.

I took the exit to Moultrie and circled around to Main Street. I drove a short route through a residential area speckled with convenience stores and small casual dining restaurants and into downtown. The town square was just that – square. Four long, two-story strips of colorful, store-front facades faced each other as if at any moment music would start and a quadrille would ensue. In the center, like a treasured mantelpiece stood the mother of all town-square courthouses - the Moultrie Courthouse, a large magnolia tree hugging her hip.
From what I could tell, parked on the southern side of the square, was that the residents took care of their downtown area, preserving it like a blackberry jam in a foggy-glassed mason jar.

               (taken with a piece of history - my 1974 Pentax with the original 50mm lens. Sorry for the blurred or under-exposed images following)

And in that weekend in November, the town was festively dressed. A canopy of Christmas lights hovered over the streets, hanging from the courthouse to the tops of store-fronts on all four sides of the square. The lights weren’t to be lit until after Thanksgiving, when the Christmas celebrations were to slowly begin. Not knowing where to start exploring, I picked a strand of lights and followed it to a southbound corner. I ended up at a tall brick building, the only one downtown that was more than two stories. An old hotel, the lobby had been converted into a bakery called Three Crazy Bakers.

The large lobby contained no tables or chairs the same, the coffee was self-serve, calling to me with a rich aroma from a distressed white side table against the far wall. The kitchen was separated from the lobby by glass display cases, a register, and a temporary wall with a curtained kitchen entrance. The smell of coffee and something sweet – peaches, perhaps – immediately made me hungry. I sat at a green table and when the waitress, a girl of about sixteen approached, I ordered a chicken salad on a croissant. It comes to no surprised that I was impressed. The details really made the meal - grapes were firm, the almonds crunch and the poppy-seed sauce a tangy delicacy. I left full, and ready to work it off by walking around the downtown area.

I passed a bookstore with a fake Santa reclined in a rocking chair with a children’s book in the corner; a woman’s boutique where I stopped and bought a red purse made by a Moultrie local; an ice cream shop that smelled so much like candied pecans it made my stomach flip a little. Christmas wreaths hung on the doors, garland lined the doorways.

I reached the adjacent corner from the bakery and joined a crowd of gathered people buying fresh produce from the outdoor market. Mister Earl sold peanuts on a table covered with a checkered vinyl blanket. “Thems magic peas,”he confessed when I approached the table. “What makes them magic?” I asked, while I picked up a pre-measured bushel and blew off the ants. “Georgia makes ‘em magic,” he answered with a wink. “Got me a green thumb from my daddy, can grow pretty much anything, anytime.” I thanked him and handed him cash. Whether they produced miracles or immediate growth spurts I wasn’t sure, but they sure tasted magical as I munched them throughout my walk.

I passed an old theater converted into a Senior Center,

a historic building that had become a bank, and a opera house that now sold used books and magazines, as well as some crafts and hobby-items. I made my way around the square and had returned to the bakery where I crossed the street to a chic antique store. It was located in an old Gayfers building, the name still etched on the stucco side and faded. Inside, antiques sat on the floor, clung to the walls, hung from the ceilings, all tastefully displayed. I circled the store and reached a section dedicated to all things ‘wedding.’ A long rack of white and ivory gowns lined the back wall. I sifted through each of them, stroked the beads and ran my hand along the lace intricacies. The smell of champagne, vanilla icing, perfume, and honeysuckle vines over wooden arches still lingered on the dresses, or at least, my imagination put them there.

I bumped into an antique dresser and a necklace of pearls rolled, catching my eye with their gleam. I picked them up and checked the price. A lady came out of nowhere and in a thrilled voice said, “Oh you found Ms. Johnson’s beads! She’d be so happy to see a young baby take ‘em. Ya like ‘em?” Nothing like Tiffany’s, but they were still in good shape. “Her husband died the day after he gave ‘em to her, heart attack, you know. She never wore ‘em, couldn’t hardly look at ‘em, but she figured they’d make someone else happy. They’s been here since good Lord knows when.” Satisfied, I purchased them and made my way out.

The sun was low then, the buildings casted shadows on the west part of the square, while the colors on the other sides were bright and glowing. That day, I had supported a boutique, a man named Earl with his magic legumes, a local bakery, an antique store and a woman named Ms. Johnson. My day was complete.

That is, until I got lost making my back to the highway entrance, and found a sign leading to a large arts and crafts festival.

How could I resist? I found the large field – an old airport facility that housed the old-fashioned bi-winged crop-dusters still in use. I paid the entrance fee and walked through the airplane hangars. Arts and crafts were displayed and sold in sections, divided by lattice wood walls and, sometimes quilts. Everything from wine-bottle lanterns (I purchased a green one) to homemade marmalade (I was still full so I skipped it) was being held and scoped and examined by customers. The Calico Arts and Crafts festival, as I learned, was the biggest craft show in southern Georgia and comes only twice a year. I just happened to get lucky. Dancers paraded on stage, corn roasted over a fire pit and barbecue smoked to tender perfection behind a portable trailer with a big picture of a pink pig on front. A small stand sold ice cream and sweet tea, funnel cakes and French fries. Over the music, an endless chatter could be heard from the locals and travelers alike, a friendly symphony of laughter, gossip and the sweet crunch of magical Georgia legumes.

The ride home felt a little longer than the ride to town. The sun melted behind the flat horizon, the hickory groves grew dark in their shadows. The sprinklers in the cotton fields had retired, sleeping over large bales of the white crop that lined the land. Tarps covered the tall white stacks for protection from rain. In the distance, where the farmers had yet to drive the plow, was the unpicked cotton. A sea of white flowed along the brim, circling patches of oak trees and woodland. The swirling hues of the November sunset reflected off the white ocean, and from the road the heavens seemed in that moment to never cease over the Georgia land.

Design and Travel

What a Jewel…

Actually, it’s a plastic brooch – but it’s reportedly about 40 years old, and therefore it has become my jewel.

I bought the brooch at a local antique store for about $30. It was the only piece of jewelry for sale that really caught my eye without being too gaudy or plain. I’m not too big on brooches, so I converted it into a necklace.

Of course any rope or fabric can be used to do the job, but I chose two twill pieces that I got from the inside of one of Craig’s very many ties (which I also use as belts and hairties, and he still hasn’t caught on because he has about 350!) to keep the aged look.

The necklace can be tied many ways. The Victorian way is the choker look. Apparently it is also the "goth" look.

Not really my thing.

And then there’s the standard necklace, which hangs just off the neck and on the chest.

You can lower it to hang below the breasts, a look that is popular these days.

Since the “jewel” is also a brooch, you can turn your strapless dress into a strappy one! Just tie the necklace around your neck and then hook the fabric from your dress into the back pin. You can adjust the height of your dress, do an asymmetric look by pinning it up on one side, or bring it up in the middle for a more diamond shape.

It’s amazing what one little brooch can do! And you don’t have to pay $30, there are plenty available for much cheaper!

And you can add it to your extensive collection of bracelets and necklaces.

Rainy Days…

The sun came out for a few hours yesterday, long enough for Craig and I to take a walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the beautiful cool air and breeze the cold front brought. We sat on the porch for about a half an hour and enjoyed the beauty of midtown- the church bells rang, followed shortly after by the whistle of the evening train, and then the songs of the ice cream man making his way down the street! It was so lovely we even let Milo and Otis sit in our laps on the front porch steps and enjoy it.
Today, the rain continues. I actually got caught in it during my jog, but it felt so wonderful I didn’t complain.


Tomorrow I get my Alabama food-handlers card so I can officially start working. Eric, the general manager at the store, was so sweet and accommodating as to give me the weekend off to spend in New Orleans! So today I have been searching for hotels or a B&B to stay for a few days.

Updates

The 13th annual Beerfest (and my personal first) was a success! We started at a bar called Heroes where we purchased our mugs – mugs are required to get the free beer – and then made our way through the bars down Dauphin Street until we found ourselves at our favorite – the OK Bicycle Shop (pictured above). Buzzed and a tad hungry, we ate on the outdoor patio with hanging lanterns and a ton of people, saw some friends, and then came back home.

Just in time for Forrest Gump.

I still gush over Tom Hanks in this brilliant movie. A simple man with a big heart, and an everlasting love for his girl, Jenny.

I thought I learned everything I could in the 91 times I’ve seen this favorite movie of mine, but what I learned tonight was that the Bubba Gump Shrimp, Co. was founded in Bayou La Batre – right down the road from my own front door in Mobile, Alabama!

So, I’ve planned a trip there in three weeks. The busy shrimping town has slowed down since the oil spill, and most of the shrimp boats remain docked (which, fortunately for me, makes for good pictures!).

Out of respect for Mister Gump and the incredible movie (and soundtrack), here are a list of my favorite Forrest Gump quotes:

“I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.”

“Sometimes I guess there just aren’t enough rocks.”

“You know it's funny what a young man recollects? 'Cause I don't remember bein' born. I don't recall what I got for my first Christmas and I don't know when I went on my first outdoor picnic. But I do remember the first time I heard the sweetest voice in the wide world.” –a quote I used in a literature class, it relates to my obsession with memory
“And that’s all I have to say about that.”

“You died on a Saturday morning...”

“Jenny taught me how to climb; and I taught her how to dangle.”

And that’s all for my tribute to Forrest.


This old house...

We’re finally getting around to moving boxes into inconspicuous places around the house. Craig has collected over ONE MILLION baseball cards as a long-time hobby. They were easy to store in the 3600 sq. ft Tallahassee house, but here in our little house with its almost non-existent closet space, we didn’t know where to put them – besides the trash, as I suggested. But alas, we moved some furniture around and found some hiding places. It was a creative challenge, which I always enjoy. And now we have room in our formal dining room for some furniture! I’m excited about this because for one, we’ve promised a few people dinner already, and also because I can decorate it in the Moroccan theme I want.

Decorating = love.


I’ve been having more fun with Picnik, as you can see below.

I just realized I have not posted a picture of my beloved kittens on my blog. I think it is time I debuted them!

Mister Milo, as taken from outside the door looking in. He was welcoming me home:

And Mister Otis, whom Craig jokes is a "mama's boy". Okay, maybe he is, but Craig is only jealous.

They make me laugh on a daily basis.

The Chef (as Craig's friends call him) is cooking up something for my birthday and I have no idea what, but I'm sure I'll love it.

Alright, that's all for today!

Picnik!

Not like the one you bring fried chicken and pies to.

This is a website, picnik.com, where you can have a whole lot of fun without the pricey costs of software like Photoshop. Of course, you can't do quite as much with this program as you can with Adobe, but you are able to get creative and have some fun with even the most ordinary of pictures.

I upgraded to Premium this week since it has some photoshop features like airbrushing and touch-ups. If you dont want to get creative and you just want to make yourself look better in pictures, I suggest you upgrade - it is certainly worth the $5 a month.

Here are some examples of what this program can do:

If you're just looking to touch-up, like I did below, it's a very easy process. Here is a "before" picture:

and the "after":

Looks much the same, right?

All I did was smudge the blemishes, lighten the eyes and add some highlights to the hair.

I did much the same with the below picture:

Boosted the color, gave myself some sun and highlights, and added mascara.

But, you can also have fun with the program.

Horseback riding at Bryce (check out the details in trees in the background)

Walking across a lake in Monticello

And a snapshot of my most missed times: College!

So try it for yourself!

I’ve got a little story about something that happened this morning.

I went for a jog around 10am, before the heat was overbearing, and weaved in and out of the streets contained in the Dauphin historic district, staying on some of the nicer roads. I turned down Fearnway Street , one of prettiest roads I’ve seen yet in midtown. In the midst of my jog, a large golden retriever decided it wanted to join me. A beautiful dog, it didn’t look before crossing the streets, and when I told it to “stay” it listened just long enough for me to jog a few strides when it was back by my side. I checked the I.D. on his collar and it had his address –indeed, he belonged on this lovely street. I decided to take him to his home.

About this time, a nice lady in a large home across the street called out to me. She asked where the dog belonged and if he/she had a name. I told her he, Harley, belonged to a Mr. George. She called the dog and he ran to her, while she mumbled to him something about not being taken care of. Moments later, he was back by my side. I told her I’d go with her, since the handsome boy didn’t want to leave my side.
We chatted and she welcomed me to the community, explained that Mr. George was old and when he lets Harley out he often forgets about him. We arrived at Mr. George’s beautiful white house and Harley ran up to the door. We knocked and just a few moments later a little old man in overalls and a short-sleeved checkered shirt opened the main door, and then pushed open the screen. The woman (I never caught her name) explained that I found Harley and decided to bring him home after he wouldn’t stop following me. The man paused, took his time to blatantly look me up and down and then said, “Well my eyes ain’t so good anymore, but I can sure see why.”
I did all I could not to laugh, but it came out anyway. We said our goodbyes but Mr. George wasn’t finished. “Oh, now, wait a sec,” he said. “Let me see here…” he patted his pockets as if to hear jingling. I couldn’t accept money, and told him so. “Okay,” he said.”Well then, goodbye now.” And he closed the door behind him.
Most of the residents in this town are as sweet as their iced tea. Mr. George made my day.


Well, this Saturday will busy with Beerfest – one of the more favorable annual celebrations in Mobile. I think the name explains itself. For Labor day weekend Craig and I are trying to get down to New Orleans, if my job permits.

Oh, that’s right, I forgot to talk about my newest job (that’s because I just got it today).
Assistant Manager- Foosackly’s. Family owned and operated, and also the most popular restaurant in Mobile, it looked like a fun job and I randomly applied, and got it! Turns out the “Foosackly” owners are easy on the eyes, too. Always a plus ;) So, let’s hope they are generous enough to give us Labor Day off, and I can spend some time in one of my favorite cities.

I know it is early, but I cannot wait for Halloween! A test of creativity and decorating skills, I must decide whether I want the autumn-charm factor or the Spook factor. You can’t have both, it’s either make them “awe” or make them scream.

Let’s be real, I can’t scare little children. But Craig can! Here are some ideas I’ve looked at:

The charm factor:

Isn't it adorable!

Add a few hanging lanterns (which I'm obsessed with anyway) - and this will be perfect. I find it ironic that this porch looks a lot like mine, too.

Well, considering the fact that all the “scary Halloween ideas” I searched for came out like this:

Terrifying!

And this:

Seriously?

I’ve decided to go with the charming affect. Let’s be real again, if I put up a scary decoration on my front porch, I will never walk through the front door, and I will end up terrifying myself.

Alright, that's all for today! Thanks for browsing.

So. Much. Rain.

They say 'when it rains it pours'.What they don't tell you is that in Lower Alabama this happens more often than in most places.

Below is a picture from Sunday, when a cyclonic storm brought heavy rain and dumped it right on top of Midtown. This picture was taken after much of the water had drained. The line of dead leaves in the yard is where the water flooded up to. There was a car stuck on the side street and the driver had to climb out his driver side window to escape. Can you imagine what this place will look like if a hurricane comes? Just water and rooftops!



Of course that sort of rain doesn't happen every day. But it still comes almost daily, and when it does, it pours. Even right now as I'm typing sheets of water are falling across my front porch - ruining my potted flower garden :(

If anyone ever wonders why Alabama is so green, wonder no more.


On a different note, some things I am happy about:


I am THRILLED that ultra-high-waisted skirts and dresses are in. For those of us with love handles that could steer a bus, this is good news!


Also, I think this is my favorite song right now:


The Band Perry
Kimberly's voice is sultry, almost jazzy, but not quite as raspy as Amy Winehouse. But it's different than what we're hearing from most country artists these days, and this group writes their own music, which is always admirable. Plus, isn't her hair fantastic?

And lastly, I have to post about the amazing artwork of Allen and Patty Eckman. Their medium is paper, their subject most things Native American, and their craftmanship is unbelievable. I would love for their work to be displayed at the Mobile Museum of Art. See it for yourself!

Paper Sculpture by artists Allen and Patty Eckman

View more presentations from Nubia (i am a bit busy these days - sorry by advance if i cannot find material time to watch and comment your show).

That's all for today! Thanks again for browsing.

Hooray!

I am officially a Mobile Artist! At least, my name is on their directory list as an emerging local artist. This is exciting for me! See it for yourself here:

http://www.mobilearts.org/artists/artist_search.php?lt=a

What this basically means is that opportunity awaits for a gallery or showcase of my own work (which would be pretty much as exciting for me as my college graduation).

It also means that I can officially sell my art! I don't have an online gallery currently - besides my 40-something albums on facebook - but I can reproduce any of my photographs in any size and print them through a local printing company - Superior Printing of Mobile (thank you, Tina) and ship them to your house!

So for those of you who may not have a creative edge and want to support an emerging artist, ask me for samples. Also, below are a few images of the art in my own home, just for ideas. I have tons of pictures sitting on the floor waiting for a spotlight on the wall, but nailing into original 1930's plaster walls scares me a tad bit.

Anyway, enjoy.


Small 4X6, Ship, Charlestown Landing


Sea Shell decor (and two of my favorite photos - the details are outstanding)


Close-up, Shell Decor




Museum Loggia, St. Augustine, 16x20


How it looks in my modern kitchen


Moonshine Jugs, North Carolina, 4x6 ( a little overexposed but i love the photo)


Thanks for looking!