Neighboring

Today in church our pastor discussed the art of neighboring. Many of the churches in our community are preaching on this subject in an effort to re-capture some of the neighboring instinct of the earlier 1900s. As he was describing what being a good neighbor entailed, I couldn't help but be entranced by the thought of bringing a little Leave It To Beaver to my own 'ville. The last home we lived in (a defunct rectory a few blocks from where we live now) I tried to introduce myself to our neighbors, but they were antisocial and they didn't want to get to know us. In fact, the neighbors who lived across the street even gave me the creeps! (When it came time to put out Halloween decorations, I'll never forget them hanging up bloody rotting zombie bodies on their porch and leering at me in my front lawn. Creeper town!!)

It's a little more challenging for me to "neighbor" the way the initiative implies now that Olls and I live on "the compound." What's the compound you ask? Well that's what my grandmother calls our end of town, since my family takes up an entire block. (She chose to call it that after the Kennedy compound, but we're really more like Everybody Loves Raymond.) I'm related to almost all of my neighbors and those select few who aren't actually on the family tree are old old family friends. Not only do I know all my neighbor's names, most of them have great nick-names like "Grandma" or "Mom" or "Uncle Phil." I guess people who aren't from rural Ohio might find this particular brand of family togetherness kind of odd, but it's actually very common out here. The closest homes to us across the field and down the road a "fur piece" are also a string of properties owned by members of one family.

This is our neighbor (not related) taking my little brother on a donkey
cart ride. The challenge was: if Steve could get Jack the donkey to
come to him then the neighbor would hook up the car and they would
take a ride together. Steve held out his cute 6 or 7 year old hand and said
"Come here Jack" and Jack came right over. My brother catches donkeys like a boss.
It's hard to imagine this photo was taken 10 years ago... Believe it or not, this same donkey still wakes me up many mornings.

After the church service let out I ran into a lady who lives a few country blocks away from us. She was attended by this younger gal who has been beyond sweet and nice in the few times I've had the chance to speak to her. I said something to the older lady about not needing to go very far to "neighbor" with each other, since we live so close. The young lady immediately said "Oh my gosh, we should have a cookout!" I've never been particularly good at making girl friends since I got married, but she's so nice and genuine that I found myself enthusiastic about this neighboring project. Cookouts, waving when we drive by, driveway plowing, the occasionally hand-delivered garden flowers or fresh pie. These things are so simple and cheesy, but if they give someone else even a little of the lightened mood I experience when she so eagerly suggested a get together, then maybe those little extras are the things missing from my "neighboring" experience. Besides, if any community should be able to figure out good neighboring, it would be our tiny family and faith based farming community. So, with all this extra time and energy on my hands, one of my housewife goals is to go out of my way to neighbor. If you have any suggestions of things I could do, or any great stories about great neighbors and their gestures from your own community, please share them!

Rubix Cube, Abe Lincoln, and Desk Tsunami

I always thought that if I started staying home full time, I might get bored. Turns out staying home is kind of rad. I'm busier than ever and the type of projects I'm finding to do are interesting. I miss my old co-workers, but I'm not lonely enough to pine for the days when my desk phone was ringing off the hook and the only relief was my lunch hour.

Here's what I've been up to:

• Have I mentioned that Ollie is training to do "speed cubing"? This week he ordered a special rubix cube that has less friction in the mechanism, making each turn smoother and faster. When he first unboxed it, the cube slid too easily and would spin if he didn't handle it carefully. So after nerding out with his new cube for a bit, he pulls out the tool chest and starts taking the sucker apart to adjust the insides. I thought that was pretty cute, so I made him let me take his picture:

• Last Friday I helped to serve a luncheon for a national group of Lincoln impersonators. You heard me, Abraham Lincoln impersonators. There were 75 of them all together and they had flown in from around the country to tour the local Sherman house/museum and some of our historical homes in the area. They stopped by our church for lunch and to hear a local General Sherman impersonator give a speech while dressed in his costume. It was surreal but it was also super fun.

Some of the Lincolns took themselves more seriously than others. I caught flack a number of times because I referred to the plastic eating utensils as "silverware." Inevitably, they would say "What manner of tomfoolery is this? Why this fork is made of a clear substance, not silver at all!" Gah! Take your food rake Abe and let's all save ourselves the melodrama. 

All in all, it was probably my favorite luncheon ever served. Very cool to see them seated all together with their Mary Todd Lincolns.

• I'm trying to get a handle on my private desk at home. Each time I join a committee it seems like my desk explodes in paperwork. I'm also in the process of integrating the items I had in or on my work desk. Add in the normal coupons, bills, and various mail correspondence and it's like a tsunami of papers washed over the surface and left me with.......well, this:

Can you spot a cat too?

• I've just set up a meeting with the head of our local Child Advocacy center to talk about joining their ranks. She's excited that I want to volunteer as they've been looking for someone with my degree but were unable to created a paid position. I'm nervous about it. Partly I'm afraid I won't live up to their expectations, and partly I'm afraid that what I'm going to be in line to see here will change me in ways I can't anticipate. 

Once Upon a Time...

I've seen quite a few posts recently about how bloggers met their significant others and I thought it might be fun to share how my husband, Ollie, and I met.

During my high school years, I spent a week each summer on a mission trip in Honduras. While on my last Honduran journey I got lucky enough to travel with the cutest guy I'd ever seen! He looked like the love child of Prince William and JFK, his name was "Ollie" which was so vintage and posh, and my 17 year old self was dying to meet him. He was very quiet; I didn't get many opportunities to naturally start a conversation and confess my undying love. It wasn't until one very very hot Honduran day when a group of us missionaries were walking to the soccer field that I had my golden opportunity. Fate found Ollie and I walking along a little behind the group, and Ollie used his long lanky God-given arms to accidentally brush the back of my pants. I stopped right there and grabbed his wrist to say in my best accusatory voice, "Did you just touch my butt?" (I figured, this was it. If he doesn't laugh it's a no go.) He looked me directly in the eye completely straight faced and said "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

That's about as close to love at first sight as it gets.

(unfortunately, these represent all the photos I have from that trip)

When we landed back in Ohio I ran to my grandparents in the terminal and I said "I met this boy...." (which they now credit as the moment they knew I had met the man who would be my husband). Of course, it was difficult for us to be inseparable, seeing as how we lived an hour apart and neither of us drove. But through the help of AIM, rudimentary texting, and long distance phone calls, our relationship continued to grow. 

Each Sunday Ollie would come for early church services with his mother, and then we'd walk to a nearby park and talk for hours or have a picnic next to the water. He was so smart, and interesting, and (maybe most importantly) he made me laugh. 

We had lives planned after graduation that were set into motion before we met. I was early accepted into a fairly competitive small liberal arts college, Ollie was training for The Coast Guard Academy. It wasn't long before he started applying to Ohio colleges and spending less time researching the east coast. For Christmas, he took me to Connecticut to meet his brother and sister-in-law and their son. Because I had already financially invested in Marietta, I went away to school there for a year but was miserable. When it came time to schedule for classes the following Fall, I transferred to the local branch of the same college Ollie was attending. Luckily for us, our parents really supported our relationship and our church friends were constantly keeping us in their prayers, both of which buoyed us up when the distance made our relationship challenging.

2 years after we first met, Ollie took me back to that special park and proposed on the same bench we used when we were whiling away all those Sunday hours. We were 19 and too poor to afford an engagement ring, so my great-grandmother gave Ollie her engagement ring from the 1930's. Believe it or not, my great-grandfather and my husband have the same first name, not to mention my Mamaw thought Ollie was the bee's knees. 

We got married in December of 2009.

Now we've been married for 5 and a half years, and each anniversary we celebrate is better than the one before. 

Hillbillie Housewife

It's been exactly 2 weeks since I pushed the big red panic button on the master control panel of my life. On that day, I very calmly I walked into my bosses office and handed him my two weeks notice. I tried to act like a pretty cool cucumber; I think I might have even sounded like someone who knew what in the world they were doing. Ha!

So, I decided (and by "decided" I mean that crazy fit of bravery you get right before you parachute out of a plane and then spend the free-fall thinking "whatamidoing, whatamidoing, whatamidoing!") to take a little time off of the rat race and figure out what comes next. I'll volunteer my services around town and see what happens; maybe I'll find my niche or I'll rule out some job genres. I'm going to heal my ulcer before I have to quit eating Mexican/pizza and thus basically starve to death. I'm going to try chicken and waffles, because I've been dying to find out what all the hype is about. I'm going to wear shorts for the first time in more than 10 years (the weight I lost with Advocare was okay, but I'm guessing the next 10 pounds are going to be more challenging). It's time to reinvent -- until further notice I'm a person under construction.