Tuesday, December 29, 2009
saying no to worrying so much about what other people think of me, fear that keeps me paralyzed and unproductive, worrying about those things I can't do anything about, the excuse "I'll do it tomorrow"
saying yes to my dreams, life, getting outside every day, laying the groundwork for the life I long for, cooking more and savoring every meal, breathing whenever I feel stress coming on, myself
giddy about starting a business I care about and am passionate about, submitting my trilogy to agents, a clean slate, the knowledge I've accrued this year that will steer me into my business and writing goals for the next
deeply inspired by nature, music, fresh air, the amazing blogs I read, Victoria magazine and British Country Living, the wonders of the ancient past and its stories
obsessed with drinking tea, really good cheese, blogging, reading, writing, creating beautiful things, story
in love with my husband Jon, life
scared of never seeing my dreams come true, spiders, being stuck in the city we're in now forever, working in an office for the rest of my life
haunted by poor decisions
saved by grace
Happy Tuesday to all! It's good to be back.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
PS: Welcome to my newest followers. I apologize for being unable to visit your blogs as my computers (both at home and at work) are having issues. As soon as I'm able, I shall be by to thank you!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I love snow. I'm a Georgia girl. We love snow. We have romanticized ideas of snow, from Dicken's England to the Colorado Rockies. A few flakes and the coats, hats, gloves, pizza pans come out. (Pizza pans? If you have to ask, you're not from the south .Why, a good, old fashioned, metal, round pizza pan makes and excellent sled. It's not like we southerners have THOSE lying about in the garage!).
My ideas of snow, my memories of snow are clouded and mixed with fantasy. Instead of waxing long and poetic, I thought I'd let Archibald Lampman do so for me:
White are the far-off plains, and white
The fading forests grow;
The wind dies out along the height,
And denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree,
Falls down scarce audibly.
The road before me smooths and fills
Apace, and all about
The fences dwindle, and the hills
Are blotted slowly out;
The naked trees loom spectrally
Into the dim white sky.
The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snow-fall hoods me round;
In wood and water, earth and air,
A silence everywhere.
Save when at lonely intervals
Some farmer's sleigh, urged on,
With rustling runners and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
Or from the empty waste I hear
A sound remote and clear;
The barking of a dog, or call
To cattle, sharply pealed,
Borne echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far a-field;
Then all is silent, and the snow
Falls, settling soft and slow.
The evening deepens, and the gray
Folds closer earth and sky;
The world seems shrouded far away;
Its noises sleep, and I,
As secret as yon buried stream,
Plod dumbly on, and dream.
This is one of my favorite poems and I was introduced to it by the ethereal music of Loreena McKennit. Go HERE to hear this beautiful version accompanied by some beautiful images. I tried to embed the video, but apparently my computer doth protest too much!
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Here's a couple of boxes we hung on the wall. They're both from my mom. She always finds the most beautiful Christmas wrappings.
Ever since we got a table and chairs in the upstairs (or the Tower as I'm fond of calling it), Master Colby thinks it belongs to him. Here he is peaking at me, bleary eyed from one of the chairs. He likes to sit up there with me while work.
I'll be cooking spaghetti tonight for a dear friend. She recently moved and I don't get to see her as much as I'd like. I hope you all have a wonderful week. Any of you making Christmas gifts this year? I'd love to hear about them! I'm making other things besides the truffles and caramels and paper. Stay tuned for more pictures!
Monday, December 7, 2009
"The First Noel is unknown in origin but is generally thought to be English dating back to the sixteenth century. There is a misconception that the First Noel was French and it is believed that this is because of the French spelling of Noel as opposed to the olde English Anglo-Saxon spelling of the word as in Nowell. After England was captured by the Normans numerous words were adopted from the Norman French language and Noel was re-spelt as Nowell, early printed versions of this carol use the Nowell spelling. The First Noel was first published in 1833 when it appeared in "Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern," a collection of seasonal carols gathered by William B. Sandys." ~http://www.carols.org.uk/the_first_noel.htm
The First Noel, the Angels did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep
On a cold winter's night that was so deep.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the East beyond them far
And to the earth it gave great light
And so it continued both day and night.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
And by the light of that same star
Three Wise men came from country far
To seek for a King was their intent
And to follow the star wherever it went.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
This star drew nigh to the northwest
O'er Bethlehem it took its rest
And there it did both Pause and stay
Right o'er the place where Jesus lay.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
Then entered in those Wise men three
Full reverently upon their knee
And offered there in His presence
Their gold and myrrh and frankincense.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made Heaven and earth of nought
And with his blood mankind has bought.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel!
I love Christmas music. In fact, I've been known to watch "White Christmas" in July and hum Silent Night as early as August (don't hate me!).
Friday, December 4, 2009
Friday morning dawned and I was giddy as a little girl. "Christmas tree day!" I sang as we cooked our normal weekend breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast.
Christmas tree farms are magical places. All those potential Christmas trees, waiting, drinking in earth and water. Watching as each person strolls by, puffing out their branches, straightening their trunks, wafting their intoxicating scent. "Pick me!" They cry in unison. "I'll look the best in that corner!" "I'll shine best with your lights." "I'm the tallest!" "I'm the fattest!" On and on they call, on and on we walked...
It was Awesome Photographer Husband who pointed to him. Yes, him. All Christmas trees are male. I do not know how I know this, I just do. I always have. He stood there, proud and tall. His top leaned to the left, there was a bare patch on his right. I looked up, smiled. "He's perfect!"
We had to saw off half of his bottom branches, but finally he was fitted into his tree stand, cool water filled to the rim. Twinkling stars on green cord went round him, round and round from bottom to top. Then the ornaments, bits and baubles we've collected for five years, a few from when I was a bachelorette, fewer still from when I was a child. Candy canes and owls, snowmen and clear, glass bubbles. A gingerbread man who looks as if he's about to fly away; a Santa that looks less than jolly.
The extra branches were placed here and there. In a stocking with some ornaments...
...around a dish, a make-shift wreath, all glimmering blue and silver and sparkling candle light.
Even the tables were decorated, glass balls in vintage bottles, the Christmas magazines pulled from the shelves...
We decked the walls and the old record player, vintage bottles standing sentinels amongst the greenery...
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
I do apologize for missing my usual Tuesday post, but I had a bit of an adventure on my way to tea. I do hope you will drop by and read about what happened yesterday. All I wanted was to find my lost fur (the one Bogart gave me) and I ended up in an enchanted wardrobe. The first part of the adventure can be read here, the conclusion can be found here. It was quite an exciting few hours, but I made it safe and sound to Mr. Toast's tea.
I trust your Thanksgiving's were wonderful (for those of you who celebrated) and your weekends were grand :)
PS: what is it about a simple tea party that can cause so many adventures? curious...
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I found some pictures of the Manor (it's a loft but I have high aspirations and a very fertile imagination) and thought it appropriate to post a little thanksgiving tour. A harvest Open House if you will.
I got a little crafty this Halloween and created the banner
which only, sadly, this picture gives a tiny peek
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
We human animals have long forgotten what it means to rest and nourish the body and soul. Modern life has taken from us the rhythms of the seasons, of sunup and sundown. Instead of resting during the dark months, we trudge on, up the ladder, through the walls, in spite of our bodies begging us to slow down, pause, to stop.
While most of us can't make our own schedules, we can make changes that will help us take back, bit by bit, the natural way of things. The way our bodies, on a primitive level, need, long for, and desire.
Over the past few years, I've been researching slower cultures. There is no perfect place on this planet, this is a fact. But I believe that older (and wiser) cultures, which have the benefit of thousands of years of trial and error, have a lot to teach our young and perilously impressionable nation. As an amateur (and hopefully, one day, professional) cultural anthropologist, I am fascinated by every culture, moved by some ritual or some tradition that seems to project a slower, gentler time. They can all teach us something valuable about live, about ourselves. But the one culture that has resonated with me is that of Europe, especially of the United Kingdom, France and Italy. I love the rural countrysides, the old-world cities, the accents and whirlwind of the old colliding with the new. But what really has captured my attention is their culture that revolves around food.
I've been wanting to do a series centered around food and culture for quite some time now. What better time to begin the slow resurrection of the senses than autumn? Especially with Thanksgiving two weeks away and Christmas around the bend. I have grown weary of fast food, thirty minute lunch breaks and haste in every aspect of our day to day lives. I know there are things that must be done, I understand that we can't all determine our own hours. But what we can do is take the time to prioritize and make an effort to better fuel our bodies while also fueling our souls. I hope you'll join me as I ramble through the woods and fields, the farms and villas of an old world that has captured my imagination and my heart. I hope to do them justice. I hope to learn from them and integrate traditions and menus into my own, harried life. And I hope to have some friends along for the ride :)
Do you have any "slow down" traditions of your own? Have you, too, felt a tugging in your soul to slow down and rest, to follow the rhythms of the natural world? What have you done to rejuvenate your own weary body and mind? I'd love to hear from you on this!
*Click on photo for original location and photographer credit*
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
When I was little, I heard that when the rain hits the pavement, it births a rain fairy. That's the spatter you see. Wings unfurl and for a split second, they are visible to the human eye.
I can see them now, out my window. They're dancing. The leaves have bowed and offered their stems. A waltz cued up and they are swirling and twirling together on an asphalt dance floor under the roof of heaven.
I'm glad it's raining. Traffic means I get a chance to watch the life around me. I can pause and catch the fairies as they wink at me, dissipating into the atmosphere to go and tango with the clouds.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Thanksgiving. Giving Thanks. What do we have to be thankful for, anyway? True, most of us don't have to bring the crops in before the first frost. Most of us don't have to can and preserve our winter rations. Most of us didn't toil all spring and summer to build a home, a life. Or did we? Spring gives us renewal, rebirth. Summer is time to play. Autumn brings with it a harvest of abundance. We sow our seeds, be they peony's or resumes. We run through sprinklers and catch some sun by the pool. We save our pennies for that latte on Friday.
Our cupboards are full of boxes and cans, our fridges with plastic and Styrofoam. We have heat and air and clean running water. Our children are fed, our pillows are soft, and, if we're really lucky, we have a few moments at the end of the day to breathe deep, put our feet up, sip a hot cider, and dream.
Thanksgiving. It should not be overlooked. Pause. Reflect. After the sugar high and let's pretend of Halloween are through, before the rush of in laws, outlaws, and good old Saint Nick. Take a moment and gather, with those you hold most dear. Hold hands around the table, the sofa, the bonfire on a brisk November night and take a moment to give thanks.
(PS: For one last hurrah of Halloween fun, tromp on over to my Woolgatherings blog and see what fun I had reading tea leaves on All Hallow's Eve ;)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
It was three years ago, the year before my Dad died. Jon and I went to the beach for a couple of days with my family. We were only able to stay a weekend to their 10 days, but it was a nice get away.
I tend to get all my ideas when I'm near water. Oceans, rivers, streams, lakes, mud puddles, rain storms, tubs, showers. It came as no shock, as I was journaling one night after a stroll on the beach, that I was inundated with quips about life (my life, to be more specific!). Now if only it was as easy to keep these at home as it is on a three day sabbatical to the seaside.
Wake up early with an anticipation for the day
Take the time to stretch as soon as your feet hit the floor
Linger over hot chocolate or tea while reading the Bible or just watching the early morning clouds scuttle by.
Granola bars will keep you for about an hour.
Go for a leisurely walk or bike ride every morning. Don't count miles, calories or fat burned. Explore! And don't turn around until you get hungry.
Cook breakfast - eggs, bacon, scones with pear butter, fresh fruit and juice. It will keep you going for hours (much longer than the granola!)
Find time to do what you love.
Drive just to see what you may discover. Make impetuous stops along the way.
Wear what you like. It's amazing how one outfit can make you feel uncomfortable and awkward and another can make your comfortable in your own skin.
Casual is the way to go.
Take care of yourself but don't fuss. As long as you are alright with you it matters not what others think.
Sit down to eat.
Take as many pictures as you want.
Spend time with friends.
Give random gifts.
Keep things neat and clean but perfection is unnecessary.
Take long walks with your significant other.
Kiss when you feel like it.
Don't be afraid to ask (or answer) the hard questions and be prepared for the reply.
Be open to wisdom in all its forms and listen for it in the most unlikely of places.
See the extraordinary in the ordinary (and vice a verse).
Do what you do, not to impress but to fulfill your life's call. It's in your heart, let it out!
Everyone has a story to share and wisdom to impart.
Look for treasure.
Take showers during the day. It is refreshing to be clean.
Pause for a long, hot bath.
See the world through the lens of a camera.
Eat dinner together and share recipes.
Things don't matter, time does.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
From the west comes the sound of a thousand souls
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Under a blanket I lie in wait for the first pitter-pat of feet. They come every year, the same time, without fail. Ever since I moved in I've been graced with their presence. On All Hallows Eve, when the clock strikes twelve, a gaggle of ghouls tromps up my front steps. I hear them, voices coming from the dark, whispering and giggling and adjusting masks and sheets. I wait. They shuffle up the steps, making soft sounds, like the wings of tiny birds, very unlike the children from my old neighborhood who would race up to the door and pound.
A tapping on the glass, a soft voice utters, "trick or treat". I smile and make my way to the basket in the foyer. Filled with apples and bread, crackers and cheeses, this is no usual Halloween fare. There's a chocolate or three for each one, but I know what they seek. I open the door, they look up eager, the only house around that welcomes them. No words are exchanged, just the treats. They look into their worn out bags, look up at me and smile through broken masks and tattered sheets. As they turn to go, one little girl rushes back and hugs me, clings to my leg sending a chill up my spine. I pat her head gently, feeling the wisps of her hair, like ice on my cocoa warmed fingers.
"Thank you," she breathes.
"I'll see you next year," I sigh.
I watch them go and the moon comes out, shining full on the little band. As the moon beams cross them, I wrap my blanket about me closer. You think I'd get used to it, the group of spectral children who come from the woods. But every year, as the moon light flows, I can see the trees of the dark forest through them. They turn, they wave, then, in a puff of mist, they are gone.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Summer wraps her in his arms
Winter whispers dreams
But there is a soul to Fall
Spring steps in gently
The kiss of birth and life anew
Summer rushes by
A tumult of wild abandon
Winter floats lazily
On frost covered wings
But there is a soul to Fall
A soul of mystery, of magic, of mischief
The sun can sink behind a thousand clouds of grey
Or pierce the earth with shafts of light intense
Leaves turn out their festive garb
Coming dressed to kill in hues of unbridled passion
Fall is spontaneity
Beauty in the mountains
Apprehension by the sea
A biting, gentle wind
Which whips imagination into being
Clouds dislodge themselves
Creating spectres along the road
The sky a screaming blue
It rains, it snows
Fall is everything, and nothing
An ending, a beginning
Black cats and pumpkins
Time of giving and giving thanks
In Fall there is a time to reflect
A time to be everything you dream
Musty books and mugs of tea
Honey gold and deep, red wine
Fall will kiss you with her frosty lips
And transport you to a land of vision
The land of enchantment
In which we grew up
And of which, too soon, out grew
The is a soul to Fall
If we can capture her
Placing her upon the mantle of our souls
Keeping her spirit kindled despite her outward passion
Maybe we will believe again
Hope in all there is to hope
To accomplish the implausible, improbably, impossible
Welcome her, this biting,
Ripping, gentle, wailing
Chilling soul of Fall
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
*ahem* That would be all of YOU!!
DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom sent me a most fabulous Dragon's Loyalty Award. Wander on over to her blog when you have a moment. Her posts always put a smile on my face and make me day! Thanks DG!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
My Thursday posts (um...Friday?!) are intended to be just that. Little vignettes (snippets if you will) of seasonal delights for your enjoyment.
Autumn Ingredients for Fall Recipes ~ From the Farm Stand
One of the first things I enjoy doing when the weather starts to get a wee bit cooler is to stop by a local produce stand. The deep colors of pumpkins and squash, the aroma of cider and boiled peanuts wafting to your nostrils as soon as you step out of your car...there's no way you can't help but smile! Potted mums sit atop hay bales, scarecrows with humorous grins slouch in rocking chairs, stuffed ravens clinging to their shoulders. I ooh and ahh at the gourds, deliberate between types of apples, and always (ALWAYS) find a way to carry home a bag of boiled peanuts (a sacred and necessary vegetable here in the South). Indian corn stands in rows of maroon, black, yellow and white and I'm in the mood for fall! Once I'm home, my arms laden with brown paper bags, the fun begins in figuring out just what on earth to do with all this bounty. Here's a few ideas I've gathered ~
Apples ~ baked, fried, sauced with cinnamon, heated in a cider, as a side dish with pork and, of course, in a pie
Squash ~ stuffed into ravioli, baked with butter and brown sugar
Root Veggies ~ parsnips with herb butter, herb roasted chicken with a variety of root veg (carrots, potatoes)
Hearty Greens ~ broccoli, chard, bruschetta topped with spinach or collards
Potatoes ~ baked, fried, champ, bubble and squeak, au gratin, potato salad, pan roasted with rosemary and sea salt, french fries, hash browns, basting in the juice of a succulent roast
Pears ~ baked with cinnamon and brown sugar, poached, stuffed with a bitter cheese such as Gorgonzola, caramelized, raw with a selection of cheeses, along side crisp apples, part of an impromptu smorgasbord of fruits, cheese and wine
Speaking of cider, here's an interesting idea. Have a go at making Lambswool. I promise, no carding, spinning or knitting is required. Lambswool is a special type of wassail (a spiced punch usually made with liquor) which combines roasted apples, raw sugar, grated nutmeg, and shaved ginger with warm, strong ale and served with tiny sweet-cakes floating on its surface. I'm a sucker for cider but I have yet to try this one. It's an old recipe but sounds like just the thing to warm your spirits on a chilly autumn night. I for one would forgo the floating cakes; I hate soggy bread!
Lambswool was usually drunk on 01 November in celebration of the fruits and seeds of the harvest and the spirits which, the ancients believed, watched over them. Sounds like a good libation for a Halloween party, no? This day, known by other names such as All Saints Day and Samhain, was known as "la mas ubal" (pronounced "lamasool" and later "lambswool") which means "The Day of the Apple".
I know we're a month away from "la mas ubal" but there's no harm in brewing up a good old cauldron of Lambswool for all your autumn celebrations. Give it a try this fall, but remember: drink responsibly and you can always do an unleaded version by leaving out the ale. I for one would like to try it both ways. Let me know if you make some! I'm curious :) The closest I've come to having Lambswool was a Hot Toddy in Ireland. Talk about cider with a kick! If that doesn't cure what ails you, I don't know what will.
Have a wonderful weekend, Jen
PS: I just posted the first of a series of posts on Halloween over at my other blog, The Gypsy Scribe. Stop by and take a peak :)
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Have a safe, blessed, and happy two weeks!!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Now this got me to thinking: maybe I'm not able to go away for a week, but why not a weekend? Or, dare I mention it, a day? So I pulled on my boots, logged on to Google, and decided to do a little travel hunting for my area. I honestly didn't expect to find much. I mean, sure, North Georgia has the mountains and South Georgia has Savannah, but what about we poor souls stuck in the middle? Well, lookey what I found:
First off, who knew there were this many fall festivals in Georgia?
It's nothing spectacular, but my new home town of Hampton has the Bear Creek Festival every September.
I grew up going to Callaway Gardens but I've only recently discovered how much fun the rest of Pine Mountain can be!
And of course, what's a trip to Georgia without a trip to Stone Mountain? For the past five years, my husband and I have been going to the Indian Festival and Pow Wow that's held every November in the park. Not that you'd know it by looking at us, but Jon and I both have Native American blood and it's so wonderful to see first hand how these beautiful people are keeping their traditions alive. They are also huge supporters of veterans and since my father was a Vietnam Vet, part Native American, and lost his life thanks to exposure to Agent Orange, this festival is especially dear to my heart.
Up the interstate we go, to the North Georgia mountains! They ain't the Rockies, and I used to bemoan that fact, until I learned that the Smokey and the Appalachian Mountains are much, much older than the West's lofty peaks. Huh...who knew?
This place is gorgeous! Even without a lot of rain fall to get it going, Amicalola Falls is a spectacular site! The hike to the top is strenuous (especially in the snow!) but it's completely worth the sore knees :)
Dahlonega is just another one of those places I grew up going to without truly appreciating the history of small town life.
In the mood for a little wine tasting?
Tiger Mountain Vineyards : "Tiger Mountain Vineyards is nestled on a hillside high up in Rabun County, on the rocky, sunny slopes of the North Georgia mountains. Our vineyard is small, the vines individually tended and the grapes hand-picked for quality. Our red wines are barrel-aged 18 to 24 months. Visit the vineyards and enjoy barrel-room tastings!"
Frogtown Cellars : "Frogtown is a 57 acre wine estate located at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains equal distance between Dahlonega and Cleveland Georgia. Frogtown encompasses 40 acres of vineyards and a tri-level gravity flow winery specifically designed to produce the unique wines made from Frogtown grapes.In 1998, native Atlantans Craig and Cydney Kritzer founded Frogtown in a location carefully selected for quality wine grape production and outstanding mountain views, the Frogtown District of Lumpkin County, Georgia. After researching Frogtowns soil, diverse climates and terrain, Craig divided the land up into separate vineyards. He planted different wine grape varieties based on the characteristics of each vineyard site. Frogtown is now home to 40 acres of vineyards planted to 17 different wine grapes varieties, both red and white."
Three Sisters Vineyards and Winery :"Three Sisters Vineyards & Winery is a small family farm situated on a hundred and eighty acres in the heart of the Frogtown District in historic Lumpkin County, Georgia. Located eight miles northeast of the site of the first major US gold rush, Dahlonega, the farm's name was inspired by the property's spectacular view of Lumpkin County's Three Sisters Mountain. While no one knows the origin of the name of Three Sisters Mountain, local residents refer to its three distinctive peaks as Wild Cat, McBrayer, and Rattlesnake. Established in 1996 and bonded in 2000, Three Sisters Vineyards is Lumpkin County's first vineyard since prohibition and holds the distinction of being 'Dahlonega's First Family Farm Winery'."
Of course, I can't leave out Chateau Elan, North Georgia's Spa, Vineyard and Golf Course getaway. One of these days, I'm going to have to treat myself :)
Once upon a time, Sautee was a dot on the road map and an accidental find on the way to the bustling Alpine town of Helen. It's grown up, just a bit, but the charm I remember from my childhood days rambling the hills with my parents and sister is still there, in overflowing quantities. Just don't drive too fast, or you'll miss it!
Two of my favorite places in the whole world are The Homestead House and Hearts and Flowers. To a less discerning eye, they don't look like much, just old log cabins sitting on the side of the road. But for me, they hold more memories than I can stand of a childhood filled with pumpkin spice candles, running wild in rivers and streams, and painting my face red with lipstick so my sister and I would be real, bonafide Indians! Not to mention my mother frequents them at least once a season and, being the good daughter I am, I certainly can't let her go without a chaperon ;) It's practically impossible to go in either of these shops and leave without at least a spice scented candle in your grasp! Or a stuffed raven. Or a sachet filled with Sweet Annie. Or...
That should be enough to get me started. There's so much more out there than you imagine. Too many times, on the quest for new and exciting, we overlook our own home towns and the surrounding areas. What gems have you discovered on the back roads and byways of your home state?
Monday, September 14, 2009
~ T.E. Lawrence
Here's to being dangerous!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Boxes abound as we begin to slowly move stuff in. We started a week and a half ago on a Friday, but didn't get the U-Haul until that following Sunday.