Recently Amy of Using Our Words blogged about the travails of grocery shopping with children. The corporate groan arose from parents.
She invited us to share our stories in the comments. I got a little carried away (hard to believe, I know), and wrote nearly a post about my best-worst grocery store excursion with my son. It’s one of my favorite early motherhood memories.
Why pass up the opportunity to post a perfectly good story? That would be like throwing away a perfectly good cereal box when my son can make a turtle house out of it. In the spirit of reduce, reuse, recycle, I’ll share it again here with you.
shell game
The story takes place in the Mexican food aisle of our local grocery store where I looking for a certain brand of taco shells or something, which of course I couldn’t find. My son was still very little. I’m not even sure he could walk yet, but boy, could he move.
He didn’t want to sit in the cart. He didn’t want me to hold him like a normal baby. He wanted to climb up as high as he could on Mt. Momma and cliff jump off my head.
Where are those cotton-picking taco shells?! Must get out of this store…
My son’s gymnastics were commonplace to me. Without thinking, I hoisted him up over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I held him firmly by his leg as he dangled down my back cooing with glee.
Finally I could study the shelves of processed Tex-Mex in peace. Ah, there were the shells I needed.
Then I felt it. The pressure of the heavy gaze of judgment.
I turned to see two older women frozen stiff, staring at me in horror. How could I hold my dear, sweet child in such peril?
My blood pressure spiked like a jalapeño’s heat. Without skipping a beat, I pulled my little one back from the brink of imaginary disaster and thrust him out toward the gawkers.
“Would you like to hold him?” I said. “Didn’t think so.” We grabbed our shells and away we went.
Adiós, señoras. Things aren’t always as they appear.
chip on my shoulder
The LORD doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7 NLT
On February 12th, 2011, in the midst of trepidation, tears, handwringing and prayer, I published my first postwith these words: It was inevitable. At some point I would blog.
That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
So what do you get a blog for its first birthday? A Twitter account of course.
That’s right. Blogger girl’s taken to running with the Twitterati.
Okay. It’s more like I’m crawling through molasses to catch up with these cats. Let’s just say I have a lot to learn.
Did you know Twitter is free?
See? I learned something new already. Join in and follow @everydayepistle.
Thank you for taking the time to read, relate and share. Blogs are a dime a dozen. What sets them apart are their readers.
Happy Birthday, little blog. Full steam ahead.
EW's balloon wreath
Let all that I am praise the LORD;
with my whole heart, I will praise His holy name.
Let all that I am praise the LORD;
may I never forget the good things He does for me.
He forgives all my sins
and heals all my diseases.
He redeems me from death
and crowns me with love and tender mercies.
He fills my life with good things.
My youth is renewed like the eagle’s! Psalm 103:1-5 NLT
During the last two weeks of December, everyday epistle will feature favorite posts from 2011 as chosen by a handful of faithful readers, several of whom you’ll get to meet here.
When I started blogging, I didn’t know what I was doing. Still don’t in many ways.
barking dog as seen at Williams-Sonoma
Everyday Q&A was an attempt to let you in on what I was learning so you could learn too. We’re all in this together.
Time for Q&A II. A sequel about comments and sharing.
Q: Should I comment?
A: Yes, but only if you want to. Comments are always appreciated and always optional.
Q: What should I write?
A: Whatever you like within the bounds of good taste and discretion.
Q: What if I make a mistake or change my mind after it’s posted?
A: Contact me at everyday epistle at att dot net if you need me to change or remove your comment. I will be happy to oblige. A word of caution: once it’s out there, it’s out there.
Q: Huh?
A: As best I can understand, web browsers like Google periodically store content in caches.
If Google caches a post before a comment’s removed or changed, that comment may show up in a search even after it’s removed or changed, at least until Google crawls around again to cache the revised version.
A: Use whatever name you want. One friend uses an anagram and another uses an alias. Seriously.
Q: Why would they do that?
A: Remember, once it’s out there, it’s out there. If you use your full name and someone like an employer, your significant other, or your mom searches, they very well may find you and your comment here.
stealing my identity bumper sticker
Q: Why do I have to give my email address?
A: Security. Your email address is not published on the blog. Only WordPress and I can see it.
A: Security again. Trying to keep the spammers at bay.
Q: How can I get my picture to show up beside my comment?
A: For WordPress, go to Gravatar and upload a photo there.
Q: Do you even read the comments?
A: Yes. I read them all. And I try to respond to them all. Dew drop inn to dialog.
Q: Should I share a post I like?
A: Yes, please. Word of mouth is the way this community grows.
Q: How do I share a post?
A: Go to the end of the post you want to share and click on the button for how you want to share it (Facebook, Twitter, email, print, WordPress reblog, Pinterest). WordPress may ask you some security questions to complete the share.
angel flag
Q: What happens when I share a post?
A: It will be shared by you in the outlet you chose. Your people will read what you liked and maybe like it too. And every time you share a post, an angel gets his wings. It’s a wonderful life!
And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God. Hebrews 13:16 NLT
Hate is such strong word. Let’s just say I was above it.
My college poetry professor stressed the importance of editing. Said we should rewrite several times before presenting a piece.
Not I, said the cat! But not aloud of course. Kept my sentiments to myself.
Edit? Rewrite? Destroy the raw emotion, the fire fueling the original choice of words, rhythm, and meaning? The less editing the better. Keeps it pure.
Oh, the drama of it all.
image with permission from http://mycameramyfriend.wordpress.com/
“How long does it take you to, you know, come up with one of those stories?” said my friend the would-be stand up comedian last time I saw her.
“Depends,” I said. Nice, safe answer. But it’s true. Some posts come quickly. Others not so much.
If WordPress took note of the number of edits I make to a post before it goes live, they’d think I’m daffy.
Scratch that. It’s arguable whether I’m daffy no matter how many revisions.
I’m not sure what WordPress would think. Or what my professor would think. Or what you would think if you saw the unending stream of corrections and rewrites.
I can guess what you’re thinking now: All that, and she still manages to miss at least one typo per post!
If this were an old-school movie edit, I could adorn myself with the ringlets of film on the cutting room floor. Fashion them into a translucent wig. A Gaga dress.
fallen leaf
I could sweep them up into a pile. Invite children to jump in them like autumn leaves, only better. No crumbling bits breaking off and sticking in socks. No hidden night crawlers or pungent cedar mulch in the mix of sterile, celluloid ribbons.
What’s left is a reduced, boiled down idea. The essence of the original, but stronger. That’s the hope anyway.
How I wish I could exercise the same discipline with the words I speak. They bolt out. They are gone and cannot be recaptured.
They wriggle and squirm. They resist careful pruning. Resist being held.
These spoken ones may combust or fizzle. They may scale heights or burrow deep in the hearts of their receivers. But they do not go willingly to the cutting room floor. If I could tame them, I could tame the world.
People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. James 3:7-8 NLT
“It’s not what you think. I mean, it’s not a devotional per se.”
“What’s it about?”
That question strikes me dead in my tracks. What’s it about? What’s it about?
At a marriage conference once, I heard a speaker talk about a woman’s talent to “spiderweb” in conversations. How it can drive a man into circuit overload.
Spiderweb used as a verb. Very appropriate. Goes something like this:
I don’t like ice. Except when I take my child ice skating. We wear bike helmets to protect his sweet little noggin.
She shoots a gossamer thread.
He insists we both wear helmets to ride our bikes in the neighborhood. I like my bike. And I love my neighborhood.
Vanilla Ice is cool too, pun intended. He may be more down-to-earth now that he’s rehabbing houses on DIY. Yeah, Vanilla Ice is all right even though, as I said before, I don’t like ice.
You’re caught.
“So what’s your blog about?”
“It’s about a lot of things. You should probably just read it for yourself.”
Good idea.
She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. Proverbs 31:25 NIV
Spider-Man and I would like to wish you a fun and happy Halloween!
Friday’s post was our 100th. The shameless self-promotion continues. Hey, we only reach 100 once.
If you haven’t read Lyrical Interlude and the comments—and logged your own story of “lyricosis,” now’s your chance. It’s good for a smile to start the week.
Speaking of smiles, here’s what Ella had to say about the 100th post:
Enough said. And enough with the fanfare.
newshound, as seen at Nordstrom
Time to craft a story or play fetch, which is in a lot of ways the same thing.
I hate cancer. You do too? Funny how things come together in social media.
Inspired by And Cuisine for All, our masthead went pink this month to support Breast Cancer Awareness. Then I noticed the Versatile Blogger button on Life is a Bowl of Kibble and discovered Jeffrey Miskell who designed it. Decided I needed a button too. Asked around my blogging friends, tapped into picnik.com and voila! Created my first button-badge-image widget.
Introducing Pink October. A small, defiant fist raised in the face of cancer.
I invite you to use this button in your social media this month. Copy and paste it on your blog or website to honor survivors, those battling cancer, and those who’ve lost loved ones in the fight. Pray for an end to all cancers.
I’m serious. It’s free for the taking. Grab it here, use at will, and pass it on.
In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. Romans 8:37 NIV
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
Gracious gifts. We all receive them. Much more than we deserve.
One of the best gifts I’ve ever received was and still is my dog Ella. Nearly 10 years ago, she was a birthday gift.
She was too young to live with us until after my actual birthday. So on my actual birthday in December 2001, I received two little stainless steel bowls. One for her food and one for her water. Sheer giddiness.
Mary, my dear friend of more than 20 years, believes Ella appears in my blog more than my son.
Jealousy may motivate Mary’s thinking. I’ve never mentioned her by name in a post until this one.
Just teasing about the jealousy part. You know I love you, Mary. Tried and true friendship is another one of those gracious gifts. Now back to Ella.
Today Ella the best birthday gift becomes Ella the first guest blogger here on everyday epistle. She weighs in with this short reflection about chewies.
Hello. I’m Ella the cairn terrier. I live with my best friend Aimee who writes this blog. I can read and type.
Chewies are my favorite thing to chew. If one is good, better are two. Rawhide, rawhide, rawhide three. Four, five, six, seven, eight chewies for me.
Proof that too much of a good thing is simply more.
Until next time, chew on this…
me & mary
From His abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another. John 1:16 NLT
My friend at Life is a Bowl of Kibble nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award this week. I’m honored and I’m game.
As a newly crowned VB, I have four primary responsibilities to fulfill.
I. Thank the person who nominated you:
Thank you, Life is a Bowl of Kibble. LiaBoK and her Litter Mates leave me cackling with posts like A Sticky Situation. Check it out or I’ll sick my terrier on you. All 16.4 pounds of her.
II. Share seven random facts about yourself:
Part of my skull is missing due to an injury sustained in a car accident when I was 15. I literally have a hole in my head.
My word for pizza crusts is shells, effectively grouping them with pasta. It’s a family thing.
I quickly memorize song lyrics, a characteristic my son also exhibits. Makes my husband’s head spin. His revenge is that he can actually sing.
When as a child I got a bike instead of a horse, I named it Cindy. Of course you already knew that.
I don’t drink coffee, but I like the way it smells.
The Collapse Free app is my obsession. Ridiculous, I know. Currently, I occupy five of the 10 spots on the high scores list.
I take my grits with a touch of sugar, she admits as all the good Southerners groan.
at the Ryman
III. Pass this award on to five (or six) new blogging friends:
The operative word here is new. I chose to interpret this as folks I didn’t about know before blogging, haven’t linked to previously, and haven’t yet added to my blogroll (aka the social network, see right sidebar). No hurt feelings, I hope. New or old, one is silver, the other gold.
Nothing to Read Here is a writer’s blog about writing. The author, taureanw, endeared me with posts questioning what it’s like to write, what he fears, and what success is.
Southern Belle View is a composite blog written by four belles who also happen to be published authors. I found it when Corey of I Like My Bike fame introduced me via Facebook to one of the belles, Beth Webb Hart. SBV feels like home and is a pleasure to read.
And Cuisine for All is a cooking blog. The finest ingredient is the author Chef Nusy. Following the bloodless revolution, she immigrated from Hungary and now proudly lives, cooks, dreams, and blogs in America.
Stuff Christians Like by Jon Acuff is a must-read if you are of the Christian persuasion. From sitting in the pew beside people with nice singing voices to composing posts in his head during the sermon to imagining worship eagles that gently pluck crying children out of the service, JA tells it like it is.
A Peaceful Heart is a photography blog I discovered when it was Freshly Pressed. Miki the photographer is from the U.K. and her pictures are simply to die for. Elegant, crisp, exquisite, visual joy.
My Parents Are Crazier Than Yours is my guilty pleasure. Myra and I are the same age. That would appear to be all we have in common on the outside. But oh, how I find myself relating to her. She taps humor and emotion and writes it well. Very well.
IV. Contact and congratulate the awarded bloggers: Check.
Hope you get some kicks from these new clicks and enjoy them as much as I do.
It wouldn’t be an everyday epistle ending without a verse and a song. Didn’t think I’d forget, did you?
As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend. Proverbs 27:17 NLT
Bonus random fact: I missed my calling to be in a band. If I were in a band, I would very much like my band’s name to be as cool as Dragonette, here with Martin Solveig singing Hello (not the Lionel Richie version).
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