Faces of Bowling

We spent an afternoon in a bowling alley.

Sometimes we're coordinated for pictures. Sometimes we're not.

Sometimes Daniel wants to demonstrate his wingspan and pretend he's a giant bird.

Sometimes we're normal. And sometimes Katie just has that look on her face.

Sometimes Mindy throws a strike and is happy about it.

Sometimes Elsie isn't happy about her toss.

Sometimes it's just not a good night for bowling.

Sometimes it is.

Sometimes it's not.

Sometimes all you have to do is smile regardless of the gutter ball.

Sometimes the walk of shame is best done with your head down.

Sometimes with your hands in the air.

Sometimes some people don't want to bowl.

Sometimes you don't understand.

Sometimes you have to wear a poker face.

Sometimes you can't hide nothin'.

Sometimes the whole world has to know and sometimes you have to use your scary face.

Sometimes you're just happy.

Sometimes a good roll to the pins becomes a touchdown.

Sometimes you can't look.

Sometimes you surprise yourself.

Sometimes it's a wish and a prayer.

Today

Today I was struck with insurmountable pride in my family.

We are someone I want to be more like.

We trip and fall but we get back up.

We take care of each other and offer a hand or even a finger if that's all we can spare to the person next to us.

We dream big, we love like crazy, we fight hard and play harder.

We are each a small part of this bigger unit that sometimes feels like it's running off without our permission.

We are ...
...dedicated
...loyal
...compassionate
...strong
...courageous
...unstoppable
...fiery
...persistent

We are love.

Random sentence

What's the most random thing you've said all day?

You're stumped. I have an answer.

I texted my brother Daniel and asked him if he was having a good day. He said "ya, great! How about you?"

And here it is, folks.

"I'm good! I want to quit my job and travel the world. And I want to make wooden puzzles and sell them at Christmas bazaars."

He hasn't replied.

You know how when you're just becoming friends with someone or starting a relationship every word is measured carefully so you don't offend anyone. You scan the dictionary before you have a conversation so you can whip out a new word and impress them. I'm always careful to tone the southern accent down a little and not use "ya'll" and under no circumstances, "all ya'll." Or when a photographer out on assignment for me wakes me up, I rehearse "hello" about 10 times before I answer the phone. She still guesses it - "did I wake you up?"

But what a great point in a friendship when you can just be yourself.

How my day's going is exactly what I said.

I'm good.
I want to quit my job and travel the world.
I want to make wooden puzzles and sell them at Christmas bazaars.

He said, "Haha, really? That's awesome!"

Because that's what a great friend says.

Bonus

I made a contract with myself 39 days ago in a hotel basement in Austin, Texas.

It hangs around my neck. It's written on this blog. It's a statement on my bathroom mirror.

Seven words strung together, two of them key, which I hand-selected out of a plethora of options. I didn't know how these words would change my life.

Funny, isn't it, how we make contracts with other people but the notion of making one with yourself is ridiculous?

I'll be the first to admit that the journey I started 39 days ago is absurd. My Wilson ball is silly, the fact that I'm madly in love with 34 people who I just met 39 days ago is ludicrous. That just doesn't happen in the real world.

But what if it's supposed to?
What if it really is completely normal to put 35 random strangers in a hotel for a weekend and have them emerge 72 hours later different, glowing, laughing, healed?

It sounds like reality TV.

Only this time, there's a bonus. It is reality and it can be for everyone. I'm living proof.

I am a courageous and strong woman.

I am...

...someone my German Shepherd wants to snuggle with.

I have some catching up to do and I plan to do that by blogging every day this week. Because if I don't, who will, right?

So let's see ....

Life is good.

My dog got in a fight and while I hated the sound of them fighting and the whole scenario, my dog-mom heart was proud that my baby girl was on top. I finally was able to end the whole foray by pulling her off by her tail.

I was nearly killed by a miniature pony yesterday. I've never inhaled so loudly in my life.

Suddenly, instant Folgers coffee in a tea bag is good to me. And black, nonetheless. This diet has done weird things to my normal eating patterns.

Speaking of diet, 30 pounds have stayed off. I'm getting ready to start the process over again and hope to lose another 30 or at least 25. I'm able to wear clothes I haven't worn in 2 years and look forward to some major shopping when I'm down another 25-30 pounds.

I want to take a road trip. Really bad. To the point that every time I pull into a gas station, I want to be somewhere else ... traveling to a known or unknown destination. I don't think I will ever be satisfied staying in one place very long. Or at least staying in that one place without exploring to some degree.

I'm really glad fall is getting here so I can wear scarves that are actually the size of a small blanket.

I have a small squishie yellow ball with a big black smilely face on it that sits on my clunky keyboard. Its name is Wilson and Wilson represents something very special to me.

Until tomorrow ...
...cheers to innovation and new ideas.

This diet has changed the way I eat a hamburger and even what hamburger I eat.

This is an organic beef patty topped with a slight amount of mozzarella cheese and mustard with sides of onions, tomatos and avacados.

The cheese and avacados are a splurge on this maintenance phase of the diet.

And for someone who's never liked mustard, I love it now that I don't use ketchup ever.

My Faithful Suitor

Do you trust me? God asked.

I was offended. Hadn't my life been proof enough that I trusted him? I'd just quit my job, was getting ready to go back to Kentucky for an undisclosed period of time FOR HIM and would I really do that if I didn't trust him?

The first night he asked, I said yes.
The second night, I said no.
The third night, I said no.

I couldn't figure out why my honest answers were that ... honest. He'd never blatantly failed me. Sure, life was ugly sometimes and went in directions I'd have chosen not to go but I didn't blame him for it.

But still. Trust him explicitly?

Laying there that April in my mom's house on our ranch on the top of a mountain, I realized that somewhere along my journey, I'd slowly taken the reins of my life out of his hands and was trying to desperately hold them all together in my fragile ones.

Buried under the rhetoric of my soul was a fear that if I handed everything over to him, he was going to mess it up more than it already was. But if I maintained my rocky control, I could have some say over the outcome. And if the outcome was a disaster, at least it'd be my fault.

Almost two years later, on Monday I wrote in my journal, "I'm trusting and I trust you."
My pen paused in awe over the words and then I wrote, "Wow. I'm trusting."
Yesterday I wrote, "Is it possible that I'm trusting you more and more every day? That just a year-and-a-half-ago I didn't trust you?"

There's a pile of hay outside our barn right now that's a signpost to me. Yesterday and this morning, discouragement, stress and worry tried to overtake my soul and I looked outside to see this. I grabbed my camera and went out to spend time with this hay.

"You provided and we didn't ask for it. You saw the need and you fulfilled it. You are a great God."

"So if you can see the things we need and provide for them before we ask, how much more the things we're asking for? And how much more can we trust you even when the answer's no?"

Our neighbors down the road said, "Come get 30 bales of hay."
The next day, it was 100.

There are 100 bales of coastal hay sitting outside our barn right now and they're all a sign to me.

"You are trustworthy."