Entrepreneur and dear friend Mike Greene found it “refreshing and honest.” Bull’s-eye.
Robin Prakken
And Robin Prakken, one of the kindest, most gracious people I know, loved this post from the get-go. Something about how it reminds her we must simply “take them off!”
Me too, Robin. Me too.
Mike and Robin both chose as their Reader’s Choice post:
Il Vicino was one of our favorite restaurants in St. Louis. But Il Vicino had a series of unfortunate incidents.
First, a wayward car plowed through the outdoor dining area and right into the restaurant. Not good.
A couple years later, Il Vicino had a fire and closed indefinitely. Not good at all.
I’ve eaten hundreds of meals at Il Vicino. When it was just my husband and me. When we were expecting our baby.
When we celebrated our baby’s first birthday with friends. When we were without a kitchen for six months during the big house remodel.
Have our order memorized. Two house salads with gorgonzola, a Da Vinci pizza, a children’s penne pasta with marinara on the side, a regular Coke not diet, an iced tea and a lemonade. For here or to go. Always the same.
As the months dragged on after the fire and the restaurant didn’t reopen, I knew I’d never eat at Il Vicino again. There were other locations, but not in St. Louis.
It was sad, but survivable. We moved on to other pizza places.
Dewey’s opened a location in University City. Pi opened in the Loop. And there was always good old Papa John’s or Domino’s.
St. Louis folks will notice Imo’s missing from our list. In our nearly 13 years here, we never did acquire a taste for St. Louis style pizza so many of you love.
Anyway, we moved on. Same way we did when we left Sir Pizza in High Point, North Carolina, and Giordano’s in Chicago.
il vicino wichita
Then we found out we’d be moving on literally. Our relocation to Wichita was imminent. We journeyed west for a visit.
You’ll never guess where we ate pizza in Wichita.
That’s right. Il Vicino. They have two locations there. The only two in the state of Kansas.
MapQuest revealed Il Vicino is less than five miles from our new house.
Memories flood me in these final days as a resident of St. Louis. I visit the places we’ve frequented and drive the roads we’ve traveled for more than a decade. They’ve become sacred in a way.
It’s the memories and the people that make them so. It’s the life that was lived there. Like our bodies, these places are dust but for the lives that were lived there. The living gives them meaning.
Translated, the Italian il vicino means the nearby.
leaving university city
Wichita, St. Louis, Chicago, North Carolina—they’re not so far apart. I hold them in the nearby. In my memory, my heart. I will add to them as long as I am alive.
Come near to God and he will come near to you. James 4:8 NIV
Holidays. Holidays. Holidays. Feeling stressed yet? Yeah, me too.
June 22, 2011, at the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden in Washington, D.C.
Good or bad, stress is stress no matter how you cut it. And December has stress to spare. So I’ve asked around for ideas to relieve stress and boost energy.
I’m familiar with the basics. Clear your schedule. Do what’s necessary and what you enjoy. Drop the extra busy-ness.
Pray. Spend time with people you like. Exercise and eat nutritious foods (okay, still working on those two). Play with your dog. Laugh.
Short of stealing away for a week at the spa, I was surprised to learn there’s more I can do. And it won’t cost me a dime:
1. Drink more water.
Both my massage therapist and my wellness coach friend Lisa Hautly recommend drinking more water. Helps flush out toxins and keep tissues hydrated.
2. Sleep.
Lisa says if you’re tired, go to bed. Epiphany, I know. Sleep is restorative. For most of us, it’s the only time our bodies and minds have to regenerate.
3. Remove your shoes.
A soccer mom friend who’s also a nurse said she’d read in a study you could reduce stress by simply taking off your shoes. Upon hearing this, our entire row of soccer moms flipped off our shoes on the sideline of the practice field. Ahhh.
fountain of youth
Water. Sleep. Bare feet. I can do that today. So can you.
Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 NIV
A Lifestyle and Weight Management Consultant and ACE Certified Personal Trainer, Lisa focuses on healthy living for busy souls in her wellness coaching and Ms. Moderation blog.
Proud to call her my friend, someday I hope to catch up with her on my bike.
Our past three houses have been old, old, old. Heated with radiators powered by boilers. The landlord for our current house asked us to schedule a boiler check.
Last Wednesday, grouchy service guy was supposed to arrive between 8 a.m. and noon. What time did he show up? Around 12:15 p.m.
It’s routine maintenance, I thought to myself. He’ll be gone in no time flat. Then I can get on with my life.
Three hours later, he’s still in the basement. Should have known I was in trouble when he told me he needed our garden hose.
“But I have all our stuff organized and stored down here for the movers,” I said. “Maybe you can come back and do this after we’re gone.”
“I’ll run the water down through the boiler and into the floor drain,” he said. “Your floor’s got a nice slope.”
the hose
A nice slope. Terrific.
I moved as much stuff as far away from ground zero as I could, retreated upstairs, and shut the door. The hours passed and it was approaching pickup time for my son at school.
“How’s it going down there?” I said from the landing.
“I’m done cleaning the boiler,” he said. Then he stepped into view. He was covered head to foot with grimy soot.
“Now I need to come upstairs and drain the radiators. Are they all clear where I can get to them?”
A mild panic ensued somewhere deep inside me. I think it was in my liver or maybe my spleen.
“Uh, give me a minute,” I said. “I’ll clear the way.”
He did not give me a minute, but came charging up the stairs.
roll with it baby
“Um, I need to get my son soon,” I said. “When will you be finishing up?”
“After I drain the radiators, all that’s left is cleaning up the mess downstairs,” he said. “Tell you what. Rather than me cleaning it, how about I give you a $50 credit and get out of your hair?”
“Okay,” I said cautiously. When he stepped out to his truck, I skedaddled to the basement.
A thin layer of black soot rested silently on every surface.
soot
“I don’t want the credit,” I said when he came back into the house. “Go ahead and clean it up. We’ll pay you the extra.”
That’s when grouchy service guy got sassy. All huffing and puffing, throwing attitude around, like the big bad wolf or a 16-year-old.
As he stomped down the stairs, I made a call. “I think you should come home,” I said to my husband.
Of course when my husband got home, sassy grouchy service guy sang a different song. The menfolk got on the phone with the landlord and worked out a deal. I didn’t care. My day was shot. I was done.
Come to find out, the soot now all over the basement had been a serious fire hazard as carbon inside the boiler. Perhaps we’d escaped flames via sassy grouchy service guy and a garden hose. God works in mysterious ways.
“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
“And My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so My ways are higher than your ways
and My thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9 NLT
I have a friend who’s just two weeks younger than I am. Much smarter though.
She argues 40 shouldn’t be different from any other year. Every year we ought to live with no holds barred.
Maybe I’m a late bloomer, but 40 was different for me. It all started around 38 when I began using the two-letter word NO.
No, I will not do what you want me to do if it’s not right for me. No, I will not let you walk all over me. No, I will not play silly, little reindeer games. No, you are not the queen of the universe.
At 38, NO squeaked out as an anxiety-filled whisper. By 39, I could say it out loud with less hesitation, but the timing was all wrong. Now at 40, I can say it plainly, thoughtfully, and without much hand wringing.
The timing is better too. I’ve said NO this year to several people and things that weren’t right for me before I tried to find a way to accommodate them.
more gifts from the Garden, love that place
A polite, well-placed NO is liberating and gets easier with practice. It frees up time for YES.
Yes, I would like to try a blog. Yes, I will make mistakes, but that’s okay because I’m learning. Yes, I will have fun doing it. Yes, I will write with no holds barred.
Several years back, there was this commercial. I’ve combed the web and cannot find the actual spot. You web crawler people, let me know if you find it so I can post a link.
In the ad, a stodgy professor tells a writing class that none of them will likely ever be published. Editors sift through thousands of manuscripts. The best they could expect was a writing career at the top of the slush pile rather than the bottom.
Then, from within the masses of the lecture hall, a student’s hand pops up. Much to his professor’s chagrin and his fellow students’ triumph, he announces he’s already been published. Online.
and one more
That far-fetched dream is coming to fruition in my lifetime and yours. Imagine the possibilities. David McRaney did.
So do I. My husband and I have developed quite an appetite for Vietnamese food during our tour in St. Louis. From Mai Lee to Little Saigon Cafe, I’m convinced there’s an addictive ingredient in the recipes. Crave.
Back to the story. I spy a space along the curb where I can duck my truck to let the other car pass. I’ve almost nosed into the space when I feel a soft thump.
I jump out to take a look. Oh, dear. The back end of my truck scraped the front bumper of a very nice SUV parked along the curb.
banking kisses
Those additional few feet or so of truck are my nemesis. My husband says I must love our bank because I keep “kissing” the guide poles at the drive-up ATM.
I don’t even feel it when it happens. I wouldn’t know it happens except for the tell-tale yellow scratch marks.
But there I was standing in front of the scrape on the very nice SUV knowing for sure who done it this time.
I docked the truck far away from all other vehicles and ran back to the scene of the crime. The owner, another parent, had returned and was pulling away from the curb. I waved for her to stop.
In the extras on Gone Baby Gone, director Ben Affleck makes a profound remark. I know you’re skeptical, but hang with me for a minute.
“The right thing is really difficult to do because it has consequences that are unpleasant oftentimes,” said Affleck. “Otherwise everyone would do it.”
The other parent hadn’t seen the scrape mark. If her husband had found it first, they would have assumed it was her fault. I could have bolted that day without admitting guilt. But people, this was a no-brainer.
no trucks
Not saying I always do the right thing. And please don’t congratulate me for doing it this once. No, no, nooo. I fail. I fail. I fail. As do we all.
There was no question I hit the SUV. Needed to make it right. Golden rule. Black and white. Not a shade of gray for miles.
A little more than $800 later (told you it was a very nice SUV), you can see why Affleck’s remark is profound.
Be the person who does the right thing. Do it though it costs you. Do it even if, especially if, you’re the only one.
For the whole law can be summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Galatians 5:14 NLT
Uncertainty is no place to call home. Relocation is no picnic either.
As many of you have guessed, we’re moving this show to Wichita.
The man and his wife. The boy and the dog. The MacBook Pro (God rest your soul, Steve Jobs) and the blog.
There’s relief in making a decision. There’s also apprehension, excitement, hope and loss.
Responses have rolled in from across the blogosphere.
Here’s the Diehl is wondering what’s the deal through tears. Mine and hers. With strains of Green Acres playing in the background.
The would-be stand up comedian asked if I know Kansas is not in North Carolina.
A lifelong friend assured me she always wants the best for me. How comforting, humbling and cool is that? Makes me want to break out in Count Your Blessings. Then cry some more.
Another lifelong friend wrote the most amazing sunset she’d ever seen was in Kansas. Suggested My Antonia by Willa Cather. Done.
arch base
Ms. Moderation dubbed me Carolina Cowgirl, a title I adore. If the blogging thing doesn’t work out, there’s always rodeo. Or clogging.
Pinke Post wasted no time doing what she does so well. Connecting me with her people on the ground in Wichita. The woman is a rock star.
And Cuisine For All sent sage advice. Don’t worry. Take time to absorb the changes. You’ll be fine, she wrote. She’s ventured far from her homeland. She should know.
Traveling With the Jones has logged enough miles to know too. Told me to embrace change. Enjoy the ride. And just think of all the new material for posts!
My faithful friend who shall remain anonymous assured me Cowtown is not in Kansas because it’s in Texas.
And a fellow Southerner in exile in the Midwest told me you can raise a southern gentleman in Kansas. “It’s about values,” she said. “The expectations we have for and of them, saying ma’am and sir and being able to shuck an oyster.”
There are many other words of treasured wisdom, prayer and encouragement. Read more on Tuesday’s post. Add your own if you like.
under the arch
One more here, in the gentle eloquence of Via Peregrini:
Our souls are quite particular in where they find their homes. Yet, sometimes, they find in the new, the unexpected, something for which they’ve longed and you’ll discover that you can’t imagine life without that place, for that time.
Our years in St. Louis have taught us the history of westward expansion. Thomas Jefferson’s Louisiana Purchase in 1803. Lewis and Clark pushing across North America in the spirit of discovery.
Those who followed their path west were filled with dreams. Pioneers, farmers, soldiers, cowboys, gold miners, gangsters, hippies, writers, artists, entertainers. None of them had the luxury—the blessing—of toting a virtual community along. None until this latest crop.
We’re headed west. I hope you’ll join us for the adventure.
Send me Your light and Your faithful care,
let them lead me;
let them bring me to Your holy mountain,
to the place where You dwell. Psalm 43:3 NIV
Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O’Hara, image from fanpop.com
“Where?” I said.
“Wichita,” said my husband. And so it began.
The small successful company where my husband works has been acquired by a big successful company headquartered in Wichita. And they’ve offered him a job he really wants to do. In Wichita.
All right. To my Midwestern friends, please excuse the sarcasm.
The Midwest is a mighty fine place and I understand why you like it, especially if you were raised here, went to school here, or got married here. That’s precisely why I like The South.
I’ve been very open about my desire to move back to The South and raise a Carolina boy who grows up to attend a fabulous University in an enchanted place called the Triangle. Wichita doesn’t fit into that plan.
Back in August when I posted Welcome to the Wild West, I boldly wrote: To the west, young woman, as far as this horse will take you.
That was figurative. I didn’t mean to actually go west.
Wichita doesn’t have a J Crew store. According to Wikipedia the city’s nickname is Cowtown, although my husband disagrees. He says Dodge City is Cowtown. Can you feel my pain?
However, we visited Wichita to discover the people are kind and welcoming. The schools and houses are great. And I’d have a chance to become a real cowgirl.
My husband is excited about the job. His mentors are positive. Lots of people move, they say. We shouldn’t worry about our son. He’ll adjust to it fine.
“Did you tell them it’s not your son you’re concerned about?” I said as my head fell to my keyboard. Crash!
We’ve relocated twice before. Vowed never again to follow companies around the country for jobs in states that don’t have ina at the end.
East coast, please. Thirteen original colonies, south by southeast. Lakefronts are beautiful, but they’re not beaches. I miss my family, my ocean, my people.
When my husband first mentioned Kansas, it took all my strength to pull my hair up into a ponytail and run to the mall. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: Where else does a Gen X girl go when in flight?
surprise lilies
As I brushed and gathered the locks, silver strands shined through winking at me like tinsel. I’m an adult. Have to act like one. Be thankful he has a job.
So does blogger girl put on the brave Midwestern face? Spit and shine her attitude? Think of this as a new adventure?
Or does she kindly, with the sweetest tea accent she can muster, decline the invitation to dance, hike up her hoop skirt, and get back to where she once belonged, bless her heart?
Gotta love a good cliff-hanger.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9 NIV
Wasn’t planning to post today. This is too good not to share.
Rode my bike to run errands this morning. Stopped by a favorite Chinese restaurant for lunch.
This week has been stressful. Changes are afoot. Biking and solitary dining on Chinese food were in order.
Must say I don’t believe in luck. There are no coincidences. Yes, I remember the episode with the four-leaf clover. But who put it there in the first place?
Nothing, no matter how good or bad, is outside God’s control and knowledge. God loves us and is always working around us to redeem us. He holds our very lives in His hands.
There are days I struggle with this. I don’t understand. It is beyond me. How could God be in control? What is He doing?
Then I catch a glimpse of His care. He reminds me of His goodness in simple ways I can understand. No big production. No thunderbolts. Just small, quiet moments to comprehend the incomprehensible.
At the end of my meal, the token fortune cookie appeared on the table with the bill. Look what was inside.
in the palm of my hand
Something wonderful is about to happen to you.
Many things already have.
Look around. Be open to see the good in your life. And remember who put it there.
The LORD gives strength to his people;
the LORD blesses his people with peace. Psalm 29:11 NIV
Aaron Shust sings My Hope is in You. Lord, may it be so for me too. Amen.
