Happy Friday everyone! I'm headed back to the land that I love, the land of my youth, the land where everyone knows my name! Well, maybe not that last one, at least I hope not, that would mean I'm in trouble.
I'm headed back North to Virginia for the weekend. It's going to be a fun time of get together, and actually lots of photography as well! My friend The Twin and Preacher are in need of some photography skills, and I am happy to oblige them. Lots more to post when I get back of the photo sessions. Have a great, safe, weekend everyone!
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Immediate Family
It's back to school time. A time when children will strap themselves to bed, so summer can last at least one more day. A time when Mother's will try to hold back the tears and protecting arms. A time of new shoes, bouquets of sharpened pencils, and haircuts.
I use to get super excited about going back to school, cause, well I'm a dork. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE summer, very very much. But especially when I was little, and the summers seemed long, I would get excited about seeing friends again and learning. But most of all, I would get excited about back to school shopping. As some of you know, I inherited my Grandmother's love of shopping and finding a good deal. So back to school was just an excuse to go shopping! Hooray!
Inevitably however, the morning of the big day, I would find myself new outfit on, haircut, new kicks tied, backpack full of school supplies, bus note pinned to my chest, and absolutely feeling like I was going to puke my guts out.
Suddenly I would lose all care about friends, and realize that I was going to be in a crowd of people I didn't know, in a place that I would get lost in, and without my Mommy. This feeling has never gone away. I was a wreck the first day my parents left me at college, and every first day at a new job ever since.
I know that everyone is nervous about change, and that change is always scary. I know that doing things in spite of change, and in the face of nervousness is actually brave. For a long time I thought of bravery as something reserved for hero's, for wars, and people who saved babies from burning buildings. The truth is, that is beyond brave...that is unfathomable. That is divine help. But when I look around me in my life, I see people who are brave daily, and that is a hard kind of bravery. Mother's and Father's who do it all on their own, friends who tell you the truth when they know you'll be mad, spouses who work at jobs they hate because it's best for their families, people who swallow their pride and take unemployment or lesser jobs than they are qualified for, people who help strangers, people who embrace family struggles or a family that may not embrace them back, people who keep trying no matter what it's about.
Bravery can be a lot of things, and most of all it's about being vulnerable to change because you know it's right: whether it's letting a child go and grow up, or getting on a big yellow school bus while holding your brothers hands.
While on Vacation at Pipestem State Park, my brother Jack and his wife Pockets (also called Scientist Lady, because she's super smart like that) gave me the privilege of taking some portraits of them. It was their anniversary present to themselves after celebrating 4 years of marriage.
I'm really excited how the portraits turned out. We took some more conservative ones, then we frolicked, lounged around, played with leaves, and tried some new things. Some of them worked out, and some were okay. But we had a marvelous time and it was really fun getting to do that for my brother and one of my new sisters. Unfortunately it took me most of the day today editing them because I was having such a good time trying some different effects. Sorry for the late post folks but here is the end result, enjoy!
I feel pretty. That's right, I, goofy, awkward, uncoordinated Runawayalice, feel pretty. Yesterday I went and got my haircut by AJ at California Concept, here in Knoxville. I love her! She does such a great job and is really fun and easy to talk to. Anywho, she had some extra time so she curled my hair for me. I don't do hair very well. We're talking my glam look is maybe I will put it up in a ponytail. But the curls were different and made me feel very pretty. So I did a little research on why women should feel pretty, the results were interesting.So by research I mean I put that exact question into google, just to see what would come up. I got hits on everything from "I don't feel pretty please help me," to "successful middle aged women," to "I don't feel pretty without make-up." It was a little scary. I felt like starting a support group. "Now repeat after me. My name is Runawayalice and I feel pretty. It's okay for me to feel pretty."
The truth is it's taken me awhile to become okay with feeling pretty and with my "girlishness." Ever since I was little I've been a Tom-boy and trying to keep up with my brothers. I fell down stairs trying to keep up with them because my legs weren't long enough yet. After my brothers, I always had guy friends, and I wanted to keep up with them. I mean, I had to run just as fast, or faster. I had to be able to be tough, to not cry, to hike mountains, skydive, bungee jump, not scream when something was scary. All those things. And I love every one of them. I think that's what took me so long to figure out, I don't have to be one or the other. I can love shooting guns and having my hair curled too.
I spent most of my teens and college, being one of the guys, and trying to be a tough chic, and I succeeded. That's part of who I am and I have a great group of guy friends. But now as I'm getting into my mid twenties, I feel like I'm coming into my womanhood a bit. That sounds dumb but it's true. Really over the last year I realized how many amazing women I have in my life. They've taught me that I can embrace both sides of me. So here it is, what makes me feel pretty and why I feel pretty.
Hi, my name is Runawayalice. I feel pretty. I feel pretty when...
1. I'm wearing my chacos
2. My hair is curly for no reason at all.
3. I'm camping in the middle of nowhere.
4. I help people.
5. My husband whispers he loves me.
6. I see my mother.
7. I shoot a gun.
8. I'm in a bathing suit.
9. I'm at the beach.
10. My Dad hugs me.
11. I'm with my girlfriends.
12. I laugh.
13. I take photographs.
14. I hold a baby.
15. I'm hanging out with the boys.
16. I'm skydiving.
17. I'm alone.
18. I wear cowboy boots.
19. I make art.
20. There's no reason at all to feel pretty.
Why do I feel pretty? (This is the hard one to say because we've been taught not to say it.) Because I am pretty. Because I enjoy my life. Because there's so many reasons to feel pretty inside.
Feeling pretty comes from confidence, from finally getting to know who you are, and taking joy in life. It really has nothing to do with mascara, hair, clothes or anything else. It's feel pretty Friday. Feel pretty, because you are. Happy Friday.
Yesterday, I was frantically mowing before it started raining again, and came across this little guy. He was hiding in one of our bird houses which I thought was both clever and asking for it. What if a bird flew by and thought, "Oh awesome, food AND a house!" I mean that's what I would probably think if I was a bird...I'm very food driven if you haven't noticed. But this little guy did get me thinking...which is always a dangerous thing.
This little guy (or lady, I guess it could have been a lady frog) was so smiley, it actually made me giggle. He just looked so content and happy. I thought I would share his smile with everyone. What he got me thinking about was that I feel like we all need to smile a little more, to enjoy the little things a little more, and to share that a little more.
With so much going on lately, the ever changing economy, things being tight, trying to work on my photography as well as find another job, I've been in a very "What about me? What am I going to do about me?" mood. I feel a lot like Smee in the movie Hook, "Smee, Smee. What About Smee? Smee! Smee! Smee. Smee. What about Smee? Smee's me. What about me?" Lately, I have been reading some inspirational writings by Sue Monk Kidd. It's a book of compiled short stories that she shares, they're great to read when you just have a short moment. In the past two chapters she's been sharing stories about open availability and compassion. By open availability she means, making yourself just open to someone you wouldn't normally be open to. Listening to someone who is upset, even if they're not your friend, not yelling at someone who is angry at you but listening to their story, or offering just a hand of comfort to someone who needs it. All these things are also linked with compassion. But in her short stories Sue Monk Kidd talks about how although she has the ability to give compassion, she often doesn't take the opportunity when it reveals itself.
In the story I read last night she describes how she came out of a shopping center on a bitterly cold day, and saw a homeless man sitting on a bench out front. He had taken pieces of cardboard and put them down the back of his collar to try and keep out the cold wind. As she describes how she merely stared and felt pity for the man, a little girl with a red wool scarf walked by, turned around and wrapped the scarf around the mans neck.
I think it's fair to say that we've all tightened our purse strings as of late. But that's fine, I'm not saying that we have to give money to be compassionate. There is plenty more we all have that we can give: time, food, hard work, a smile, and just being willing to be open to see what the other person needs. We must also keep in mind that it's not just homeless people that need compassion and open availability, it can be a coworker, a friend, a child, a stranger crying on a bus, a loved one, a neighbor, or just someone you run into. I think we have all had an experience where an opportunity for compassion has come up and we have let it pass by, whether it was because of fear, awkwardness, not being sure how to help, or it just being out of our comfort zone. I am ashamed to admit that last summer when I was eating lunch outside with a friend from work, we were approached by a homeless man, and she gave him a dollar, and I told her that probably wasn't wise considering I'd seen him in the area several times and he was probably just "working" the area. But now, I'm ashamed of myself. A couple dollars couldn't hurt, and we were in a very popular area, if I was homeless I would go to popular areas as well, to try and get some help.
So what I guess I'm saying, is that this little guy inspired me to be happy and grateful that I have a warm (or cool in the summer) dry place to stay. And challenged me not only to be happy with what I have in hard times but to share happiness and compassion with others, and to try and make myself available to those around me. It's always something to strive for, and I am going to challenge myself this week (as a start) to be more compassionate. I challenge you to try to do the same. And until then, smile and count your blessings, I'm sure that's what this little guy is doing.
I miss the beach. This is a fact that I cannot ignore. For over a year now I have been living in a landlocked state, for the first time in my life. I grew up near or on the water, and I miss the smell of salt in the air, the heat that is so close it's like a hug, and the soft powdery feel of sand beneath my toes.
Unfortunately with the way the summer is looking, I don't think Speed Racer and I will be able to make a beach trip this year. We have always gone to the beach at least once in the summer, it's a ritual, it's a need, it's a raw animal desire...see? I start to get a little dramatic when I don't get some beach time.
The day the above picture was taken of me, was a day that my parents will never forget. At that time we only lived about 30 min away from the beach, and on the weekends in the summer, it was a fairly common ritual to hit the sand. This day in particular the beach was packed. When I was that age, I never really went farther than the water front without my parents, and after some lounging in the tidal pools I decided it was sand castle makin' time. One of my favorite parts of sand castle makin' time was collecting beach items to decorate my sand castle with. My Mom started getting the buckets together and asked me to collect a few shells to put on the castle.
I started collecting and I guess got a little farther away than planned. But what really did me in was that I lost our blanket in the sea of blankets and passed it on my way back. I have no idea how long I walked. But it was long enough that eventually I started to get scared, very scared. Finally in frustration I just sat where I was and started to cry. Luckily I was right in front of a lifeguard station. The lifeguard came down and asked me if I was lost. Being told so many times to not talk to strangers, it took me a while to warm up to him. But he showed me all his official uniform items, and his radio, and said that he was a good stranger and that he was going to help me. He took me up on the lifeguard stand, gave me some crackers and some water, and radioed down the beach for my parents.
I can't explain the relief I felt when I saw my parents (or now that I'm older, the relief I'm sure they felt when they saw me!). They took me back to our blanket, where my two brothers explained they thought I had drowned...and may have been a tad happy about it (no annoying little sister, yay!). All kidding aside, they hugged me and explained how worried they were and how hard they had searched the beach. It was a great reunion, and that's where that picture was taken.
With such a traumatic experience you would think I would be afraid of the beach or the water, but no. If anything it strengthened my love for the beach. For me it is a place to be alone, a place to get lost in the roar of the waves, and a place where the ever changing scenery is all I need. It is a love that Speed Racer and I have always shared.
Here are some of my favorite beaches and watering holes. Some of the pictures are not mine but hopefully the people who took them won't mind sharing. They are all family and friends. Hopefully this will give you a taste of the beach, even if like me, you can't get there this year.
Last Tuesday before I got the Plague, I was invited to take pictures of my Aunt and Uncle's Anniversary Party. It was a great time and we had several opportunities to take some much needed family pictures.
It was one of those classic summer parties, there was seafood, laughter, kids, kisses, hugs, big kids eating baby food (do not try that at home), lightening bugs, prayers, Eskimo kisses, and lots of Red Light Green Light. But most importantly we were able to celebrate what a wonderful couple my Aunt and Uncle are, and the great example they have set for all of us.
Thank you both for letting me take photos of you (thanks to your sneaky daughter) and more importantly thank you for being a wonderful Aunt and Uncle to me. Aunt Carol thank you for encouraging my love of art and photography, for being willing to make mud pies with me at the cabin, for nursing me when I inevitably would fall down your basement stairs, and for being my name's sake. Uncle Walt, thank you for teaching me how to fish and your patience when I caught fish and you didn't, thank you for teaching me your love of nature and letting me quietly enjoy it with you, and thank you for always sharing your stories with me and being willing to listen to mine in return. I love you both and I hope you enjoy the photos!
It was 7:00 AM. Why was I awake? I looked around the guest bedroom at my brother's house for some sort of explanation. I love sleep, I don't usually wake up on my own unless there is a reason. But everything appeared as normal as can be. I started to roll over and go back to sleep when it came again, a pain in my gut so violent it could have been a contraction. I instantly went into the fetal position and tried not to cry out. Eventually I eased out of bed and went downstairs to where my brother Warnie was reading, he looked up quizzically as I entered.
"I think I might be sick," I whined.
"Oh no. Well let's get you something easy on your stomach to eat. Maybe eating a little something will help," he said.
He is such a good brother. After bringing me a plain bagel, peppermint tea and some pepto he sat and ate with me while we watched some Daily Show. The stomach cramps finally started to ease and we started talking again. Today was the day I was suppose to be leaving to head back to Knoxville.
"Thanks for the food, I really do feel better," I said smiling. Food always makes me feel better.
"No problem, I'm glad you're feeling better."
I smiled and walked towards the kitchen to put my plate up. Suddenly, I put my plate down and dashed to the hall bathroom. I puked my guts out.
When I came back Warnie looked concerned, "I thought you said you felt better!"
"I did feel better!" I said, equally frustrated.
A look of horror crossed his face, and I could see something dawning there that he was not excited about. "Maybe your pregnant..." he said.
"I'm not pregnant." I said, matter-o-factly. There was no way.
"We could get you a pregnancy test if you wanted..." You could tell he was saying this to ease my mind, he didn't really want to. No big brother wants to get their little sister a pregnancy test, no matter how old they are, or if they're married. Really I think it's probably still pretty weird for older brothers when their little sisters get pregnant period. But he loves me, so he was willing to do that for me.
"That's ok, seriously, I think I'm just sick."
As the morning progressed, there was lots more puking. I couldn't keep water down. I got a fever. I got a splitting headache. And all hopes of moving, eating, or working subsided. I gave in to my caretakers and just laid on the couch and watched "The Blind Side," which I loved. I have an incredible soft spot for feel good football movies, they make me cry.
Between listening to wonderful quotes from Sandra Bullock's character like, "If you so much as set foot downtown, you will be sorry. I'm in a prayer group with the D.A., I'm a member of the NRA and I'm always packing," and racing to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain gods, I decided it was undeniable. I had food poisoning.
If I have ever known you and known you had food poisoning, and took it lightly...I am sorry. Next time, I will come hold your hand and hold your hair. It's that bad. Luckily mine only lasted for 24 hours. Once I had purged my system I was a lot better. Wednesday night my 102 fever finally broke and the next morning I braved the 8 hour drive home. Luckily, I split it up over 2 days and stopped at my parents house half way there, still exhausted and weak.
I'm just now getting back to normal. The thought of some foods still make me queasy, and I'm still tired. But that is why, dear readers, I did not post all last week. I hope you'll forgive me, but I had the plague.
I spent a great 4th of July weekend with my family first at our cabin and then enjoying some in town festivities. I ran into some friends as well and just thoroughly enjoyed myself. It's always hard going home because there are so many people to see! Sadly I was absent Speed Racer, but he was busy with his own tale (more on that later). I am however, still out and about on my travels so this is going to be another quick post. But here are a few pictures of the 4th festivities to give you an idea of all the fun we had.
I don't know about you but today has been a long day for me. Lots of travel, lots of it being hot, and lots of not being at home. Thus my post is being done late at night and I'm really wore out. I'm not even sure if I'm making sense. BUT at the end of the day what do we all really want? Super cute baby pictures that's what! This is Speed Racer's super adorable baby cousin, and her mother was wonderful enough to let her be my muse.
