Slow down, people

Why pumpkin when we have yet to apple? It seems we are forgetting all about the apple! This is the time to buy a quart of freshly pressed apple cider. A chance to pick apples off the tree and make homemade applesauce. Isn’t it true an apple a day keeps the doctor away? Or how ‘bout you are the apple of my eye? Have you ever sliced an apple across its waist and seen the star inside? Or eaten a fresh apple slice dipped in local honey for good luck? Or made an apple pie from scratch? Look what we would be missing!!!

Regardless of the reason, I will admit to kind of loving that the world seems to have embraced celebrating the seasons and holidays. It’s just the skipping of holidays that upsets me.

Maybe it’s the kindergarten teacher in my heart and that “Calendar Time” was crucial to our day. But, each and every month has something wonderful to be celebrated. Either holidays, birthdays, scents or foods that should not be missed. It just makes me so sad that somehow our All-American holiday Thanksgiving seems to have taken a backseat to Christmas. Retailers seem to be taking more calendar time and shelf space to sell December holiday merchandise. I understand their retail dilemma, and sometimes I do appreciate being able to get a jumpstart on my monthly crafting projects. But how does a store in the USA go straight from Halloween without pausing to give thanks with a clear conscience? It seems to me that more and more stores are displaying holiday merchandise WAY TOO SOON! I mean really, it is barely Labor Day and two entire rows are dedicated to Christmas???? For heaven’s sake, my daughter told me she saw a Christmas commercial this past weekend on TV! REALLY, three months early????

It may seem odd that I have a need to honor each month, but I just cannot help myself. I pull out my buckets of holiday and seasonal tchotchkes  ( choch-kas ) the first of each month, and not a day early! It is the Allison unwritten rule in our home … never shall decorations be displayed prior to the first of its month. It is a hard rule I hold myself to but I manage, except for the December melee of course! Once Thanksgiving has passed and I awaken from my food coma, I do indeed begin the changing of the guard because I just cannot help myself.

This past Labor Day weekend my daughter came home from college for the night and I broke my very own rule. She requested fall time food for her dorm and I obliged. After all, it was not going to be in my home, right? And I cannot lie, I REALLY enjoyed the house smelling like Fall, but composed myself when I wanted to switch my room scenters to my favorite fall scent! She took back to school two of our favorite Fall-time foods: Butternut Squash Soup and Pumpkin Bread.

Now--I am going to share my Butternut Squash Soup recipe with you, but I highly suggest you wait until October to make! If you cannot wait, then add apple instead of pear and then THE rule has really not been broken!

Moral:  The apple taught me that there is a star within each of us! Excerpt from Reach for the Sky.

your monthly celebrating friend,

A little question for y'all: What is your favorite fall treat?

The Big Apple

This week I am writing my blog while parked in my car in New York City. Our dog, Cornell, and I are waiting for my sister to get home from work to do a bedroom makeover. Since we could not find a park bench, which seems so wrong in Manhattan, we are sitting in our car with the windows down. He is people/dog watching and I am blogging.

As I watch him watch others I giggle to myself because sometimes I really do believe I can read his mind. Other dogs owners no doubt understand. Unless a treat is involved-- I believe Cornell speaks with a Scottish accent that is slow and deliberate. It has an Eeyore-esque quality about it.

We actually share a lot of the same traits. He’s more kind than intelligent, never met a stranger he didn’t like, does just about anything for a treat and enjoys the stuffing out of a good nap. We both love schedule, can’t miss a meal and like a few ice cubes in our water. We feel it is our responsibility to comfort someone when they are sad. Cornell and I both strut when we get a good grooming and hide when we don’t. We both love, love, love our friends, family and cherish our walks.

Yes we do. Each morning before Cornell can inhale his breakfast I pour myself a cup of coffee. We head out on our morning walk to meet up with our neighborhood friends. Not long ago these “friends” used to be strangers to the both of us, but now we can’t think of a better way to start our day! The dogs share treats, tall grass, sticks and sniffs while the humans chat about EVERYTHING else.

Actually, the friends, family and walks are all true but not sure about all that other stuff. No, this isn’t Allison. It’s me, Cornell. Yeah, that’s right—thought you would like to hear my side of the story. My Mom is good but gets so easily sidetracked while writing. First, why do you call this the Big Apple when I haven’t seen a single apple anywhere. And I actually think my Aunt concocted this redo idea just to help my mom stay busy while she deals with this empty nest thing people keep asking her about. Honestly, maybe she just needs a swift kick in the bahookie (that’s Scottish for tush). First they pushed the bed I was lying on and everything else into the middle of room, which looked hideous. Next those two spent an hour or so sticking bright blue tape all over the room in a very uncreative fashion. Finally they stood precariously upon very tall ladders painting the walls from sage green to a lavender white. Here is a picture of me very hard at work—supervising which led me to coorie doon (that’s Scottish for nestling down to sleep)!

I can tell you this, New York City walks are very different from our quiet country walks. They are filled with dogs for miles, horns beeping, bustling crosswalks, so many speeding and dangerous yellow cars and bits of food on the sidewalk. It seems New Yorkers are more resistant to my charm due to the lack of attention I received—oh well, their loss! There is very little soft grass which baffled me, until I saw a fellow canine use the concrete—ah maybe that is why they call this place the concrete jungle?

Early one morning my mom and I ventured to Central Park and boy was that a treat. Smells, trees and grass galore. Tunnels to meander through, bridges to prance across and countless bikers and joggers to avoid! I could have stayed for hours but noooo, we had to get back to move all the furniture pretty much right back to where it was when we arrived. At least they removed all that blue tape I told them looked grannda (Scottish for ugly)! Honestly we could have just snuggled instead of all this fuss!

Well, we (Yes, we!!) finished in three days flat. For our drive home they bought iced coffees for themselves and a water for me. As we navigated through the Lincoln Tunnel (never saw Abraham either), I was hoping my brother and sister would be waiting for me when I got there. I ran inside and the house was empty and very, very silent. Guess this empty nest thing is a bigger deal than I had first thought.

Moral: If you help another while keeping yourself busy, it really is a win-win!

With love,

Cornell and Allison

Star Light, Star Bright

All my life, any chance I get, I make a wish. Pennies in wishing wells, candles in churches, four-leaf clovers and wish-balls. My first recollection of wishing happened upon a star. I can still remember as a little girl eagerly awaiting that first twinkle so I could close my eyes and make my precious wish. I recall wishing my parents would let me paint my bedroom magenta. Wishing with all my might that I would get my “period” like all my other friends. I used up a ton of wishes on hoping to be “asked out” or for the phone to ring. Oh, and all the wishes spent on passing all those exams.

As I have gotten older (and possibly wiser) my wishes have changed. Now I wish for things like cures for cancer, healing friends who have broken hearts, slowing down time, keeping my children safe at college while ridding the world of senseless violence. Oh, and an end to my $%#*& hot flashes!

I treasure each annual wishing tradition as well. Everyone knows about the birthday cake wish, but in our home we also get a cutting the cake wish too! The magical Leprechaun wish only happens on St. Patrick’s Day, when you find a trace of his gold dust! Oh and the Angel wish when we place her atop our Christmas tree.

My theory is you can never have too many wishes … ever! Which might explain why some of these wishing opportunities might seem odd to you. Yes, I may be guilty of possibly dreaming a few of them up, like the Train Wish. When we lived in Michigan it was a common aggravation to be driving along and then see those red train crossing lights flash and we'd have to come to a complete stop and wait. So, if we happened to be that first “lucky” car that had to stop, everyone in the car got to make a wish! Problem solved!

As a football coach's wife/mom, there are not enough stars in the sky for all the wishes I have. Either hoping to sell our home or find the perfect new home. For the kids to make new friends on that first day of school or to find someone who can properly cut and more importantly color my hair. To find a trustworthy babysitter and, of course, let’s not get fired and please can we WIN!

Call me crazy, but desperate times sometimes call for desperate measures. My husband was working in Florida as we were living apart, struggling for months to sell our home in a plummeting Michigan real estate market. I’d done it all; left warm homemade treats for every showing, placed St. Christopher in our front yard, Feng Shuied the heck out of our home-- but nothing. So when a dear friend suggested we enlist the help of magical fairies we did just that! My kids and I bought a white bird cage and decorated it with dollhouse furniture. We then wrote them a note about helping us find the perfect family to buy and care for our home so we could move and be a family again. We closed their door and then placed the home high above the cabinet in our laundry room so others might not well … think we were crazy. The very next day we had a nice family make a reasonable offer. When I went to say “thank you” to the fairies their door was wide open. And no, there is no way the kids could have possibly climbed up there. And yes the fairies move with us—every single time!

Credit goes out to my daughter for turning her precious Polly Pockets into fairies, many, many years ago!

Moral: Keeping your mind open presents all kinds of different options.

your wishing friend,

A little thing I wish I had done: I wish I had kept a Wish Journal for my children. It would have been so simple. Each night either I would write their wish down or they would if they could. What a wonderful way to capture their journey from child to adulthood.

Bathroom Redo Update: I have decided to cover the wall behind our toilet with my favorite wood of all time--pallet wood! So if you can’t find me, I’m just driving around town hunting for free pallets.

Finding Inspiration

When I travel to schools and share stories of my life as a children's author I get asked a whole bunch of questions. That part of my visit is sometimes my favorite because as you know, kids say the darndest things, right? But one question I always get asked is, “Do you ever run out of things to write about?”  

My response is always the same. I have been writing since second grade and have not run out of topics yet! Some may wonder how that is possible. It’s quite simple for me since I consider myself an emotional writer--my writing is best when I simply write what I feel. That means I am inspired to write just about all the time: when I am sad, baffled, anxious, disgusted, happy, incensed or hurt.

I am so fortunate to have recognized at just seven years of age just how therapeutic writing was for me. Never having been one to talk about my feelings, putting my thoughts and feelings down on paper worked perfectly. I now possess a box full of filled up journals that I move with me from house to house! And since I am now a weekly blogger it is for sure a win-win; you get a blog and I almost always feel better!

In addition to writing when I am in flux, I also “busy" myself. Many times you will find me busy in my kitchen under a cloud of flour dust. But I have found that the bigger the “issue”--the bigger the project I need to throw myself into. As a regular blog reading friend you know I am in need of a pretty big project right about now. So it seems the perfect time for that half-bath renovation I have been putting off, right?

Now, don’t go thinking I am just redoing the bathroom for sanity sake. This bathroom has structural challenges as well as plumbing issues. You haven’t forgotten about them now, have you? For example, when the toilet overflows we discovered that it drips through a hole in the floor which then drips ever so slowly directly above my daughter’s bed! Inside those boards seems now to be the perfect place for little tiny black flies (sort of cute) to breed and call home. Then there is the issue of size. We often have rather large (okay, very large) football players over to our home and they hardly fit inside our guest bath--which poses an entirely different sort of problem.

So, as a person who moves depending on the win and loss column, every redo must increase the resale value of our home. Along with that I must also be inspired. Usually that inspiration starts with a random piece. There is usually absolutely no rhyme or reason, except that the “piece” speaks to my heart. I thought I would sort of bring you along on this therapy redo as my bathroom and I progress. I am not sure how the blogging and redo will partner just yet, but I do know I will have plenty of time to figure it all out.

Here are my inspiration pieces, in no particular order.

The collection of "pieces" that speak to my heart!

1. I found this doorknob four seasons ago (FYI: Football people count years in seasons, not years) at an Antique Store near Birmingham, Alabama for about $8. My friend and I attached it to a cut of old pallet wood I had lying around my garage.

2. I snatched up these old hinges for $4 each at The Golden Nugget Flea Market in New Jersey about three seasons ago.

3. I fell head over heels for this old fashioned letter slot thingy for $15. No idea yet what “business” it has in a bathroom, but I will keep you posted!

Moral: Finding what helps you personally to handle, deal, live and move through a personal struggle is time worth spending.

your emotional writer friend,

A little thing for you to know: With summer winding down and my emotions winding up I am officially back to my weekly Tuesday blogging. As a public service of sorts, please share with me any subjects, questions, recipes or topics you’d like to see me tackle. I still strive for my blog to fill a need within each one of us-- either beneficial, informative, humorous, eye-opening or heartwarming! Take your pick!

It's Just Around the Bend My Friends...

I can feel it in the air. If my life had a Weather app it would read something like this: Storm Warning. These next few weeks will be unpredictable. Conditions are perfect for drastic highs and lows. Take time to prepare; gather tissues, hugs and memories. Hunker down, stock your home with favorite foods and activities to last these next few weeks. It should clear out soon.

This Life Advisory should not be a surprise to me. In fact, I’ve been preparing for it for some 20-something years. Actually 45 years if you count the years I dreamt of being a mom. Readying for the day the children I have poured my heart and soul into both leave home for college.

It seems so cruel we spend their lifetime preparing them to be independent enough to leave us. No more holding hands when crossing the street. No more cutting their food into non-chokable pieces. No more crazy schedules of after-school activities. No more making school lunches.

My daughter's daily salad for school lunch... done!

There are, of course positives. There always are. I will not have to memorize multiplication tables ever again. I will not “help” with any more ridiculous Science Fair projects. I have attended my last Open House alone. No more hopeless requests to clean bedrooms. The endless laundry will come to a screeching halt. Dinners will be for two now, actually for one since I am a football coach's wife … just for one.

I am a little ashamed to admit it, but there were days when I wished for this day. Like the days I never got out of my pajamas because I was just so exhausted from listening to my baby cry while I practiced that Sleep Dr’s technique! There were times I hid in the bathroom for a sliver of privacy. I recall desperately craving a shower that lasted long enough to actually be able to shave my legs. For goodness sake, I attended any and all home parties just for some adult conversation.

I heard, but apparently did not heed all those comments from people who saw me with my little ones,  “Cherish these times--they’ll be grown up before you know it!” I remember thinking to myself then, “HA! They have no idea!” Now, I understand that you were just trying to warn me. You were then where I find myself now.

I have many friends who are ahead of me in the Life curve. I watch them carefully to see how they fare. I ask careful questions and take copious notes. They say I will be fine after the first few weeks. And I have had some practice as my son has been away at school for two years now. A few say I will just love it, “It will be a time for you.” There are others who think parenting just gets harder because our children are not within our grasp. And then there are those who urge me to be patient because this is the necessary step for me to receive grandchildren-- which are apparently the greatest gift in all the land!

I will really be fine, since there really is no other choice. I am truly happy that all my hard work and our life experiences have made this moment possible. My children are ready. They are eager to live independently. See the world. Meet new people. Get an education. Have a crazy good time. All I ask is they be safe. Look both ways before crossing. Choose the best kind of people to keep company with. Listen to your gut. Attend classes and take notes. While walking through campus, LOOK up--not down at your phone. Focus on eating healthy, but eat. Wash your hands often. Please call home. Oh and one last thing--have the time of your life.

Waiting on clearer skies,

Moral: Cherish these times--they’ll be grown up before you know it!

A little thing you should understand about me: I chose to write my blog in first person mostly because it’s always me sharing my feelings, thoughts, and issues. Of course, I do not believe in any way that I alone have raised, lost sleep, struggled or will be sad when both of our children leave for college! It’s for sure a “we”--but I write in “me!”

It Takes a Village to Change a Village

I was introduced to an amazing man while visiting Barcelona this summer. He is not your typical European gentleman. He was not dressed in fine linens. His hair was not coiffed, nor his nails neatly manicured. Rather than strut like most in this city, he shuffled. Some even called him a gruff old man, but that gruff old man confirmed for me a few very important things I believe deep down inside of my soul.

The first is to never judge others. To watch this man pass by, one might think he were homeless and might even struggle with a bit of a mental disability--when in reality he was a genius architect. Those eyes saw the world like no others. I like to think I would have sat on a park bench with this man, who despite the endless loud critics, created buildings, neighborhoods and a park the likes the world had never seen before. We would meet at a cafe and talk about the 40 years he spent crafting La Sagrada Familia, the most beautiful basilica in quite possibly the entire world. He would tell me about the team of talented folks and friends who helped bring his “crazy” vision into a reality. Which supports my second belief; all things are possible with the help and support of others. While so many criticized him, there were enough who believed in his vision and chose to get on board!

While I was standing within the walls of his creation I was simply overwhelmed by his unique interpretation of the world. Call me crazy, but being a kindergarten teacher I couldn't help but notice that his work reminded me a tiny bit of Dr. Seuss, Roald Dahl sprinkled with a touch of Mr. Walt Disney himself. I wondered if they too had been so moved by this very same man? This really got me wonderin—which then got me reading.

Just a small portion of the La Sagrada Familia Ceiling.

I started with his childhood and it turned out his mother homeschooled him in his younger years because he was a very sickly boy. Their classrooms were the gardens and parks in the neighborhood. She spent hours sharing her knowledge and love of nature with her son. My heart burst with this information since I too spent endless hours sharing my amazement of flowers and appreciation of nature with my children back in the day. This fascination of nature led to his desire to study architecture. It seemed that in all of his creations there is a nod to nature, as well as to his mother and teachers. Hence, the columns that hold up the La Sagrada Familia ceiling resemble tree trunks that grow towards the sky with branches and leaves. Window panes and iron gates resemble honeycomb. Stairwells are fashioned to look just like a snail shell. There are even sprigs of lavender constructed as though they grow from the rooftop high above the very schools he received his secondary education in!  

The snail shell I happily walked down.

This confirms my third belief; that people are not just responsible for creating human beings, but for developing their heart, mind and soul. Parents are the first artists to mold children followed closely by teachers, neighbors, doctors, friends, coaches, family and often even strangers—each with the common goal of helping to develop a person who betters our world.

This amazing man's name is Antoni Gaudi. He is long gone, but his legacy is visited by more than 2.8 million people every year. He died tragically in 1926 before La Sagrada Familia was completed. Since that time it has been the mission of humans he never met to complete his dream--being funded solely by people just like me. People who flock from near and far and buy a ticket to witness with their very own eyes what a unique man was able to accomplish with the love of a mother, an education and the support of a few good humans.

Antoni’s new friend,

Moral: We each have a responsibility to do our part so that when we leave this world it is a better place!

A little song I love: Kristin Chenoweth sings the song, I Was Here that perfectly and beautifully explains my fourth belief. Please take a moment to grab a tissue and take a listen! The world certainly knows my new “old” friend Antoni was here. http://bit.ly/1KgogXR

Unplugged

Life can be funny. Sometimes I crack up out loud and other times I giggle to myself. My last giggle was a few days into our precious Summer vacation, after publicly promising to enjoy the small moments, we had a power failure. The storm itself seemed to turn on a dime. Within moments our home made a huge popping sound and went dark. Storms tend to make our family a bit on edge since we have experienced a few really bad and memorable ones (having lived in Alabama, yes, we’ve endured tornados). We are prepared though. The fIrst sign of bending trees and we locate our lanterns and battery operated radio. If you have ever moved you can totally appreciate the feeling of joy to actually find them and—even better—with working batteries inside! Should have popped the champagne right then and there! As the storm passed, we could hear sirens all around us. We went out and perused our neighborhood that is chock full of trees that reach the sky. For as far as our eyes could see, we were all spared of any tree and home damage.

As night progressed we opened up all the windows, doors and were so grateful for the breeze the storm blew in. Later that night we hooked up our portable generator and plugged in our refrigerator, one lamp and every single charger we had. We were not roughing it, but it was sparse living for us. The next morning, we made a big pot of coffee for neighbors and offered our “charging station!” For sure the power would go back on today! No worries, we spent the day together cleaning up our yard of branches and such. Later that night we ate take out dinner by candlelight while talking amongst ourselves. We did more looking up than looking down!

Long story short, we got power back in the middle of that second night and it was such an assault to the senses. As I stumbled around from room to room I was slightly sickened with all we had plugged in. Endless lights, not excluding my fascination for twinkle lights—geeze! Two TV’s in two separate rooms, music, a/c running alongside fans to keep the air moving! Too much, just too much. Pretty sure Mr. Edison never imagined this abuse of his invention.

With a new day at hand, I began to do the indoor clean-up. Finally I could run the dishwasher, do endless loads of laundry, heat my cold coffee in the microwave and open up the refrigerator without fear of losing precious cold air. Oh, and of course a/c went on and all windows and doors were sealed up tight. I was working hard which is why I thought it was hot. I thought I was so busy I forgot to turn on the overloaded dishwasher. As I bet you already figured out, that popping we heard when our power went out was lightning striking our air conditioner unit. That apparently helped destroy all appliances in our kitchen. So we called our insurance agent friend to begin the claim process. As it turns out, this was actually a “cat” storm and our damage was minute compared to others in our neighborhood, so we must be grateful.

So after bagging up over 7 bags worth of rotten, melted and pretty stinky food to the curb we are now on our way to go appliance shopping! Thank goodness we are on summer vacation so we can appreciate these little moments together.

Moral: Sometimes in life what you are looking for may arrive in a totally different looking package—I think it’s worth unwrapping!

your unplugged friend,

A little thing I got: One of our powerless nights we ordered delicious take-out food and look what I found wrapped inside my fortune cookie!

Au revoir my friends. Until I return-- be happy, be healthy and be safe!

La vie est faite de petites bonhers

Summer has officially begun for my family. My son is home from college. My daughter has graduated from high school and my husband finally has much deserved (and desperately needed) time off from his job as a football coach. If you know nothing else about the football coaching profession you should learn this--time off is rare and should be treasured. It is treasured at our home, but also upsets my proverbial apple cart. I am most comfortable and productive with order and normalcy, so this time off can be a bit unsettling for me. I refer to this time of year in our home as “Re-entry!”

Re-entry is that special time of year when I am relieved of my job as “Head of Household” by my husband. No disrespect intended to coaches everywhere, but let’s face it: As a football coach's wife, I am responsible for almost everything. I pay all the bills, attend all school meetings, manage all home responsibilities, schedule all doctor and vet appointments, attend all extra-curricula Activities- ALONE. Before you misunderstand, by alone I am referring to physically. Physically my husband is rarely home, always at the football office. He is either coaching, in meetings, studying film of opponents, recruiting players or scheming for future games. These endless responsibilities are how he manages to be our Soul (financial) Provider, just like Michael Bolton croons!

If I am being honest, I am not always alone- just during football season. Non-football people may think that ain’t so bad, since a football season is made up of just so many games per year. This leads me to the second thing you should learn about the football coaching profession: The season does not just entail the games, but months of preparation beforehand and months of reviewing and recruiting afterwards. In other words, he works all year long except for this short and therefore precious summer vacation!

This football life we live makes us a team of sorts, I run the offense and he takes care of the defense. We both do our jobs with the common goal of keeping our family as safe, united, healthy and as happy as we can. Of course we have hopes of going undefeated, but life has a way of happening. Sometimes we have to call an audible. Sometimes we go into overtime. Then there are the other times we have to toss the game plan, throw caution to the wind, throw out order and normalcy and run with it!

Which leads me to this last point. After much contemplation I have decided that this summer my blog will be more like bi-monthly. I plan to sit under the stars at our firepit and eat too many s’mores! I hope we watch movies late into the night and sleep in late in the mornings. I hope to eat through a bumper crop of tomatoes and peppers*. I hope the family trip we have spent months planning to celebrate our daughter’s high school graduation will be our best one yet. I am going to enjoy this family time- the last summer before I am officially an Empty Nester. The positive twist here is that I am certain this new life hurtling my way will offer me endless blog topics when this precious summer comes to an end.

Moral: La vie est faite de petites bonhers...life is made of the little moments

Enjoy YOUR summer moments my friends,

A little thing we did: Since we all love tomatoes we dug up some sad bushes just outside our kitchen window and planted our first Philadelphia garden. We started out small with four tomato and two pepper plants. I am happy to report that these plants are growing like weeds! Tonight we pick our first little cherry tomato- life is all about the little moments!

21-Blog Salute

TWENTY-ONE! This is my 21st blog. Clearly this does not warrant a 21-gun salute, but could this mean I am legally a blogger? Can I legally write my blog in all 50 states? I’m not a math girl but I know this translates into more than five months! That is just shy of half a calendar year. So many times “things” that I start don’t always last long. If you are a weekly blog reader then you know my success with drinking the 8 glasses of water a day and the avoiding carbs “thing.” So this I shall celebrate.

Celebrating for me usually involves some type of reminiscing. My very first blogs were written in the wintertime-sitting in front of the fireplace listening to the crackle of firewood. Today I am sitting on my back porch under the fan listening to the birds chirp. I decided it would be wise at this point to take a trip down memory lane and re-read in order each blog I have written.

What struck me was what this whole blog thing has become. What started out as a one way street for me to share my honest random thoughts, crafting ideas and successful recipes is now a two-way street. A street, if you will, where people can visit for a bit and listen to a friend who just might understand and share a laugh or two. A place where I can reach people with my words. This shouldn’t be such a surprise to me. I was born with words in my heart.

Words have always been my go to when things get tough. I love the power of words. I surround myself with them because they comfort me. They cover all walls, countertops and windowsills in my home. Words have the power to heal me when I am broken. The right words seem to automatically inspire me. Other words help to keep me focused on a goal (well, most times that is!) In other words, I am words!

This may explain why I am enjoying this blogging experience so much. I admit to sometimes being stumped as to what to write about and as you know I’ve also struggled with the concept of ghost readers. With my tendency for procrastination and “mousing” I have burned the midnight oil far too many times as well. But, overall sharing my words with you has been such a nice addition to my life. The best part might be all your comments, both on social media as well as in person. I continue to be stunned at the reach this blog has had in her short lifetime.

Along with those kind-hearted comments are so very many questions. So I thought this might be a good time to tie up a few loose ends. For those of you that are new to this blog, you may want to pour a cup of coffee or glass of wine and take a moment to catch up… the comments you are about to read will be far more enjoyable if you do. www.inchbyinchbooks.com/blog

My Top Ten Loose End List

l. Since a few of you thought I was joking about my friendship with Willi, my Recycling Guy friend, here is a pic of us my husband took a few weeks back!

2. I am still shipping out pairs of BGP to readers who sweetly sent me a personal message requesting them!

3. Thank you for your kind messages about the death of my friend, Dr. Derek Shepherd. I am almost fully healed.

4. Posting up a truth each Tuesday (TT) on social media continues to challenge, but a few of us have been giving it a go! A+ for effort!

5. I have have absolutely no idea what my 2015 New Years Resolution was… maybe to find my ABS that are still missing?

6. I am still in hot pursuit of my happiness!

7. I am deeply touched by the many beautiful pictures you have sent me of hearts you find in your world. I told you that you would start seeing them everywhere, right?

Jillian, a blog reader, was looking out her office window at One World Trade Center and spotted a heart of ice floating in the Hudson River! 

8. Despite our continuous, yes continuous, plumbing woes; I still love this home we are living in now!

9. Picked up a broken-down door just the other day... ugh and yippee all in one breath!

10. I have no idea what we are having for dinner tonight. Got any ideas?

Moral: We are all a work in progress... baby steps my friends!

Your baby-stepping friend,

A little thing a friend told me just this morning: “I love your blogs Allison and really look forward to Tuesday mornings now.  But, it’s like reading a great book and I am really sad when they’re over!”

Pomp and a whole lot of circumstance

This week I am writing the first draft of my blog while saving seats in the auditorium as our daughter gets ready to graduate from high school. This ain’t my first rodeo people. I knew what was coming and came prepared, hence throwing my trusty iPad into my pocketbook along with the graduation tickets and, most importantly, tissues!

Before you worry that I am not living in the moment, I have to say this really isn’t a moment I want to live in right now. You see, we just moved here two years ago and as I look around the crowd I begin to cry. Why? Because most of the people I am searching for are not here. I look for those dedicated hockey moms and dads I traveled with for YEARS. I search for those silly fifth-grade boys who dressed up as Napoleon Dynamite for Halloween so many years ago. If I found my fellow 1-D moms we would secretly giggle! I’d scream “You Go Girl!” to the gals I walked beside for 26.2 miles to raise money for Breast Cancer Research. Instead I quietly watch as this place quickly fills to maximum capacity, wait for my little family to arrive and blog!

They say graduations are for looking ahead, but I clearly seem to be a looking back type of gal. I hope that does not translate to a glass half full mentality, but that’s where my head and heart are right now. So, I sit here amongst friends who have attended kindergarten together, families who have helped raise each others children, yet I sit alone. I see people tightly hugging each other and notice others purposefully pretending not to see each other. I can’t play either of those games because my people are not here. If this is how I feel, I think of how my children feel. My Aunt once said “Allison, you can only be as happy as your unhappiest child.”  Such a powerful and truthful statement. Please understand, this is not a plea for sympathy at all. I am just sharing with you honestly, as was always my promise.

While you may have history, endless family and friends in your town, our friends and family are typically scattered across the USA. These are the circumstances of a football coach’s family. As mom of this family one of the most challenging aspect for me has always been uprooting our children. Let’s start with a few of the challenges, shall we? Saying goodbye to best friends, wonderful schools and tight-knit neighborhoods. Learning new school drop-off rules and traffic patterns-especially in South Florida. Dropping our kids off the first day of school with not a single friend except each other. The amount of bravery it takes for them to step out of our car the first day of school is something I’d have to dig so deep for. I can empathize since every single Open House it’s the same thing for me: Everyone chit-chats, laughs about past field trips while I pretend to be strong enough to not care, feel alone or both.

Our children assure us they would not change a thing about living in so many different places. They are emphatic in the belief that all our moving around has helped to make them stronger, more resilient and determined. They can comfortably walk into a room of strangers and strike up conversations with just about anybody. They are adaptable, independent and confident too. They have the strongest sense of empathy and fully grasp the importance of a true friend. Our children share these traits with the countless other coaches children across this country. Those children will also not be found here today.

So, while I may indeed be sad only knowing a few of the wonderful people in this jam packed auditorium, I am reminded that I am actually quite lucky tonight. Lucky enough to be missing all the wonderful people we have met at each one of our “stops.” Grateful for strangers who became dear, dear friends. Indebted to all the teachers, counselors and principals who took that extra step to make us feel at “home” when we first arrived. If you were all here I would hug you long, share a tear or two and thank you from the VERY bottom of my heart.  

Moral: Though saying goodbye is most painful, worse would be leaving and having no one to say goodbye to.

your emotional friend,

A little thing someone once did for us: As we were saying our gut-wrenching goodbyes a sweet family handed us a tin of homemade “Happy Trails Mix” for our 15-hour car ride. Such a simple gesture, yet had such a forever and profound effect on our family. It really is all about the little things my friends!

Big Girl Panties

Just to clarify, these panties I reference are not the actual size panty I wear, but a mindset I sometimes have. We’ve all heard the saying, “Put your big girl panties on and deal with it!” Yes? Yet, how many of us actually own a pair? Well, I do! I even remember the day I got them.

We were coaching at Michigan State, and let’s just say it was not a stellar year. A player made a poor choice and the public clamored for our head coach to step down. What most people who are not in the coaching world do not realize is that with the firing or releasing of a head coach comes the loss of job security for the entire staff. Since this “step down” occurred before season’s end, they named an interim head coach and our husbands were obligated both contractually and morally to coach the last few games. That also meant the families of those coaches had a tough decision to make. Should they attend the game or stay at home?  

As you might imagine, for most football families, not attending the game isn’t really an option. If our husbands/fathers are at that game, then so are we. We need to be in those stands supporting our team. How could we possibly miss our “football sons” last home game? Yet I worried about our own children. Sitting amongst what can sometimes be a vocal bunch of  “fans,” and I use that term loosely, is not easy to do even in a winning environment. Add to that a cocktail or two and a losing season and it can get ugly real fast. You want your heart broken, just watch a coach’s kids face when his/her Dad loses a game while people are screaming “FIRE HIM!” This all brings me back to the Big Girl Panties- how in the world will I be able to attend the game AND keep my mouth shut?   

Then it hit me, I can speak without actually speaking. A friend and fellow coach's wife and I purchased a slew of big girl panties (BGP) for the coaches wives on our staff. Each pair had that famous quote handwritten right across the backside.  A few of us wore those very panties over our jeans that cold and sad day. I remember that day well, because I was able to bravely walk into that stadium with pep in my step and confidence.

From that day on, I have kept my BGP close by. I have donned them while packing up our family’s home. I’ve worn them while driving two kids, two dogs in a Jeep full of miscellaneous items across the country alone. If you’re “lucky” you might catch me wearing them around the house when I am feeling defeated. I’ve even mailed my BGP to a dear friend when I thought she needed them more than me. I’m glad to report that my BGP are back home now and I must say I am sure glad to see them. With my youngest child graduating high school the end of this week, it looks like I will be needing them sooner than later.

So, if feeling empowered comes from a 1.19 pair of underpants from Walmart then so be it. It’s not as if I am alone. I have a team of support “behind” me- pun absolutely intended. There are times when wearing those BGP make me feel a bit like a Super Heroine actually. I face my challenges head on. I can juggle dinner, a job and kid’s homework while being sick. I can drive across country with just one pee stop. I smile when I sometimes feel like crying.

Regardless of whether you are a longtime friend or new blog reader, if you need help or support, send me a private message (astoutland@aol.com) and I will personally whip you up your very own pair of BGP and place them in the mail to you. No one should ever feel that they are alone in this world… no one!

My very own pair of BGP!

Moral: Don’t judge it until you have tried it!

your empowered friend,

A little thing I have done: Yes, on my really bad days I have worn my BGP under my outfit out in public. So, if you see me and it looks like my pants are a bit tight… you’ll understand why!

Me and my Facebook

Am I really to believe that all 685 of my Facebook friends are living happily ever after? That they really are all married to their soul mate? Or are dating the most perfect person? Could it be that their children are all beautiful inside and out, helpful at home, successful in school, and find the time to bring them breakfast in bed on their birthday? Is it true that their life is perfect? Well, it sure looks that way to me or else there just might be a national epidemic of what I call fbibbing going around!!!

Fbib
/fah-bib/
verb
gerund or present participle: fbibbing
n The need to share only positive information on social media; Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, etc.
n lie, untruth, falsehood, made-up story, invention, fabrication, deception
n “You are fbibbing on Facebook”

I am not here to judge—since I too am guilty of only posting my happiest moments and most flattering pics. I admit that I will even untag myself in a pic when I don’t look my best. I’m actually a huge fan of Facebook for the most part. This social tool keeps me feeling close to the many friends we have moved away from. I love seeing their children grow up. It warms my heart to see friends morph into doting grandparents. I am entertained by all the family pet pictures and videos posted. I love a good montage of a family vacation. I am kept abreast of all graduations, births and sadly, deaths too. And yes, Facebook also provides me the perfect* platform on which to share this weekly blog.

I vaguely remember about ten years ago thinking I didn’t need Facebook. If I wanted to share a picture with friends I would either attach it in an email or mail it in a card! My Facebook fever started out slow, say 30+ friends and the occasional post. Then without so much as a warning, it became part of my daily routine. I am ashamed to admit that now I start MY day by looking at the Facebook posts of others. I check for birthdays even though the ones that really matter are on my trusty wall calendar in my kitchen. I’m really ashamed to say that I find that I now check into Facebook way more than a few times a day.

I think the magic of Facebook for me is that it allows me a place to appear as I wish to be seen. It is a social medium that affords me the time and tools to only share what I want to be shared. This sharing is vast; photos, thoughts, causes and opinions. This sharing is fast; it takes less than 10 seconds to share with your social world, but leaves little time to think things through. This new social world is a slippery slope, one that I myself am struggling to stay on top of.

We all strive to have a happy life, right? So there really isn’t anything wrong with fbibbing—except for how others fbibbing makes me feel. On my good days I am happy for all my friends who seem to be living the life. On my bad days I question my very own happiness.

This makes me wonder and worry how social media affects younger people. I am supposedly a grown-up, mature individual and can be deeply affected by the posts of others. What are kids doing with all this fbibbing? How is this going to affect their lives, self-esteem, goals and plans?

I clearly have some work to do. I plan to limit MY Facebook time. I shall remind myself that if I can appear to the outside world to always be happy, then so can others. Here’s an idea: in addition to TBT (Throwback Thursday) everyone should add a TT (Truthful Tuesday.) Everyone posts a truth, even if it makes us look less than perfect! I shall start today with my Truthful Tuesday post and hope you might join me.

Moral: Let’s embrace our imperfections, since they should not define us but help us to become who we are meant to be.

A few little things you may have noticed:

1. I posted this blog with an incredibly unflattering, yet real pic!

2. * Not so perfect afterall. There was no blog posted last week due to a computer glitch. I apologize for missing the week!

If you give a mouse a cookie ...

… he will probably want a glass of milk. 

Most of you may recognize this as the beginning of one of the best children’s books of all time, written by Laura Numeroff. For those who need a quick summation: as the book progresses this mouse gets totally sidetracked with all the events that occur once he is given a cookie! It’s an adorable book to read to a little one, but not so adorable when you are a full-fledged adult and getting sidetracked is a daily occurrence.

My days always start out with a plan and a list. The list is not very exciting most days, just a very helpful and necessary part of my life. I write my list on a ceramic tile with an EXPO Dry Erase marker. It sits nestled between my coffee pot and kitchen sink since I spend quite a bit of my day there, so there’s no missing it!  

As I said, this list is not fancy at all!

Like many people, I feel a sense of accomplishment when I cross things off my list. That’s easy enough to do, until “mousing” creeps in. Mousing is the term my friend and I jokingly refer to as our inability to stay focused while accomplishing a single task. Still a bit confused? The following narrative of my day should help clarify things.

Just got back from the gym so I cross that off the list! Next, I choose to tackle laundry. I go into the closet to get the dirty clothes and notice that my shoes are in my laundry basket; so I take a moment to place them back into their designated cubby. I realize I no longer have enough cubbies for my shoes; so I decide to donate the shoes that no longer “fit” in my life. I take them all out of my closet and run downstairs for a bag. I cannot locate the bags because “someone” just threw our beach towels in there. So, I reroll the beach towels and place them in the beach bag only to find about seven bottles of sunscreen, some of which are clearly empty. I check each one, while I’m at it I check expiration dates and try to place the bag back into closet. Except it doesn’t fit, so I pull everything out since summertime is almost here and I don’t really want to be doing this task again! While organizing the closet I see that there are about 30 coats, from every school we have ever coached at, that we NEVER WEAR! Really, since I am already going to the Donation Center, I should go through the coats too! So I pull them all out and sort them in the living room so each family member can go through their piles when they get home. Ahh, now the beach bag fits in the hall closet, so I go for a cup of rewarding coffee. While sipping I reach for my EXPO marker to cross something off on my list since it’s been about 2 hours and realize NOT ONE THING has been completed!

Things such as this happen every single day. I’m busy all day long getting things done, just NOT what's on my list! I crawl into bed tired and deflated already knowing what will be on my tomorrow list!

Moral: Try using your list as a guideline instead of a timeline. You’ll feel better about yourself and might even sleep better too.

your list loving friend,

A little thing I do: If by the end of the day I have not crossed off a single item from my list, I have been known to add what I did do and then cross them off- one at a time!

Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness

It continues to amaze me how words can strike me. How they can reach deep in my heart.  A friend once commented, “You really love words- everywhere I look in your home there are words!” It’s true. I have an affinity for anything printed. I’m obsessed with quotes, fonts and will write words on just about anything. Yesterday I heard words I have heard a hundred of times before. They were written a lifetime ago as a crucial part of our Declaration of Independence. Simple words that changed the world in which we live today. But yesterday, I was apparently ready to comprehend their full meaning as it pertains to ME and my heart!

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

I love the word happy. I love to be happy.  I love even more to make others happy.  I even created a new tense of happy for a book I wrote-happied!  I named my car Happy for goodness sake. Look up the word happy and you might even see my picture!  So when I heard those words written by a group of men some 200+ years ago about the pursuit of happiness I felt as though they were speaking directly to me!

I hope you're not too disappointed with me but this week I did just that … I took the liberty of living my life while pursuing my happiness. Instead of preparing a well thought-out blog, I prepared for my son to return home for the summer from his sophomore year at the University of Alabama. Instead of looking at a blank computer screen I looked at him while we planned our day trip into Philadelphia. Instead of fretting over my lack of blogging responsibility, we downloaded an app and located planets in an amazing nighttime sky!  All in the name of pursuing happiness!

This was a day to remember to treasure, and I will do just that. We paid homage to the Liberty Bell. We toured the hallowed rooms of Independence Hall.

Independence Hall in Philadelphia, PA

We ate and sniffed our way through Reading Terminal Market.

Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia, PA

We watched dancers at LOVE Park. We ran the Rocky Steps too! We took a break under a cherry blossom tree in the courtyard of City Hall. We topped the day off with a visit to a local beer garden to toast Ben Franklin!

So this week you get a blog that is posted late, unedited and shorter than normal. On the other hand it is heartfelt as promised and I think includes some pretty cool pictures.

with gratitude to Ben from a very happy,

Moral: Live your life in the pursuit of YOUR happiness- you’ll be oh so glad you did.

I have OSFC...do you?

I am apologizing to you upfront for this blog. I lost a friend this week and have just not felt much like writing.  It has pretty much consumed my thoughts. I have replayed our eleven year friendship over and over. I remember when we first met. It was March 2005 and we were coaching at Michigan State. I knew we would be fast friends from the moment I saw that smile. We are the kind of friends that can sometimes go months without seeing each other and yet pick up right where we left off. Other times we cannot go a week without seeing each other. As friendship goes, there were times that I thought the decisions made were all wrong, but we remained friends through it all. Some might call our friendship one-sided since we speak mostly about his life. Yet, somehow our friendship was enough that it withstood eleven years. We reconnected a few months back after too many years gone by. It was nice to see that he and his wife had another child. His health was good and he was finally in a good place.  

Call it foreshadowing if you will, but I had a feeling something bad was about to happen. Rarely was he happy or content - there was always quite a bit of drama in his life. Last week he was on his way to work when the car he was driving was T-boned by a tractor trailer. I thought he would survive since he had survived so many other tragedies. He just had to survive, especially since his life was in such a great place. But in the end my friend- Derek Shepherd died. So it’s been a tough week here.

Before you feel as though I am making light of losing a real friend, I sadly and fully get that deep sadness. I empathize. I have lost a true and real dear friend I loved and know that heartache. I am not comparing the two, but trying to understand just how this is possible. How is it that I can feel such sadness for a person who really was not my friend at all. How can the death of a character on a weekly drama series leaving me feeling so lonely? Is it that these feelings are somehow a safe way to feel sadness and experience grief? I don’t have this answer, but I can tell by all the tweets, news reports, facebook posts and water-cooler talk that I am not alone. There is even a nationwide petition now to bring Derek back to Grey's Anatomy!

In my “professional” opinion, we have OSFC- Over Sensitivity to Fictitious Characters. These symptoms include a deep attachment to someone or something that is not “real”. The propensity to develop a one-sided emotional bond with characters that DO NOT EXIST. An emotional investment made into the life and well-being of a person or thing that you have never and will never meet. You may experience a deep burning in your throat, a sort of "heart"-burn if you will. The behavior to cry or worry about this fictitious character can sometimes be all consuming.

My first recollection of OSFC was as a little girl. When Bambi’s mom died in that fire it was more than I could handle. Every single Thanksgiving when the Wizard of Oz aired on NBC  I cried when the Wicked Witch of the West stole Toto from Dorothy. I had to leave school early because we watched the movie Sounder and it made me actually throw up. Friends, teachers  and family would say to me, “It’s not real Allison!”  But in my heart and mind it most certainly was!

The Wicked Witch of the West riding off with Toto... still fills me with sadness. 

I can see that this is not something I will outgrow, so I’ve learned to manage my life with OSFC. I avoid sad movies as much as humanly possible. I carefully monitor the television shows I get involved with. Even still a few sneak in. A few years back I was enjoying the show “V” on ABC. I recall it seemed like a really cool show about aliens and how they wanted to be our friends. It wasn’t long before I realized I had been tricked, and I was upset for weeks by it. It has also become blatantly apparent that Shonda Rhimes enjoys manipulating with my emotions as well. Thursday nights used to be a relaxing and full of surprise night for me. Now I find that I am either just downright depressed, upset, scared to death or stressed out. It may be time to start watching reruns of Seinfeld.

Moral: Acknowledge it, respect it, handle it and move on from it.

living with OSFC,

A little thing that would validate me: Have any struggles with OSFC you'd like to share? Or perhaps a sweet story about your fictitious friendships?

Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines...

What is it about that first day of Spring that makes me want to go topless around the neighborhood? Oh no, not that top, the top of my car people!!! There is something energizing about driving with the Spring wind in my hair and some long-awaited warmth on my face! I can drive for hours just looking at all the trees, bushes and flowers busting out from a long winter’s hibernation! I’ve been doing this for years.

However, my all-time favorite Springtime drives were with my sweet friend, Happy! She was my girl. We would go on long drives together through windy country roads and over bridges taking pictures along the way. Sometimes we blasted the music and other times we just drove in silence because we were “those” kind of friends. I could talk for hours and she would just listen. We were so happy together that people would stop and stare as we drove by. Many adults waved but most kids would punch each other. Why? Happy was my car, my punch buggy, my Volkswagen convertible Beetle and yes… my friend. I even purchased a personalized license plate for us, which only deepened our bond. The weeks leading up to Happy’s lease ending day were horrible. I could not discuss it or even eat for that matter. When I brought her into the dealership that dreaded day I wore my big black sunglasses to hide my swollen and bloodshot eyeballs, but those sunglasses did nothing to silence my hysterical crying. It was so bad that the guys at the dealership asked if they could call a family member for me.  

The picture says it all, right?

Some of you may say I got too attached to my car but I saw her as part of our family. Ever since my first car, some 30+ years ago I have experienced some level of automobile attachment. I recall crying when our navy blue Pinto was towed away because apparently a few of her brothers and sisters exploded when they were hit from behind. I felt similarly sad when we had to say goodbye to both of our Jeeps. Not only did they bring our children home from the hospital but helped raise them too. The Jeeps loaded themselves up with all our belongings and moved us to numerous new homes. They helped teach our children how to drive. Our Jeep survived the commute in Miami traffic for four very long and hot years! Every Fall our menagerie of cars entertained many of our friends and family at tailgates. Our automobile team brought our family Christmas trees home for over 20 years. So many of our memories include these family cars, hence the bond and the separation anxiety.

Allison, Happy and Cornell bringing home the Christmas Tree!

My car has also always been a personal getaway of sorts. I just can’t believe that I am the only one who leaves a situation strong only to get into my car and break down crying.

Who doesn’t remember that feeling when you first got your license and you would offer to do any and all errands just to feel that rush of independence? I still recall that pit in my stomach when I first drove off to college alone. Or that time my sister and I jumped into my car to visit a dear friend in need! Feels just like yesterday when Happy safely took me to and from the hospital to visit my husband every single day for weeks! Oh and who can forget those summer trips to the beach!

So-if we are being honest here-if you don’t treat your car like one of the family then maybe it is something you should actually start thinking about. Start out slow...go for a spin on a beautiful day!  Get your car a mani/pedi aka wash and wax!  But beware, saying goodbye is going to hurt!

Moral: There is no shame in caring and appreciating the important things in our lives, including our car!

your car lovin’ friend,

A little thing I wish for: My car and I often allow others to merge into our lane of traffic. We don’t do this for the thank you, but when someone merges without even the slightest gesture of thanks we are stunned. That is why I secretly wish I had a car mounted washable paint gun so I would write across the back of their car, “Your mother would be so disappointed in your lack of roadside manners!” 

Does your automobile have a name?

What’s for dinner?

I must be feeling mighty comfortable with you since I’m going to share one of my most common thoughts when I wake up each morning. No, it’s not about being kind.  It has nothing to do with making the world a happier place. It’s more like a panic actually, one that gives me daily angst...what will we have for dinner? Yeah, it seriously is one of my top personal daily challenges! You’re asking yourself “Why?” Me too!

I wish I knew that answer, since I figure I have been unable to hit the snooze button approximately 36,500 times because of this very thing! The questions begin immediately. What day of the week is it?  What do I have in the refrigerator? I replay the dinner video in my head from the night before. Then there’s the validation process. The no comment is never a good thing. The best reaction is the first bite smile-which I refer to as a “Julia Child” moment! In case you were wondering, the latter is the rare occurrence.

Back in our dating days my husband and I decided that if we could make a go of it, I would forgo my teaching career and stay at home with our children. Therefore, I always felt that ALONG WITH EVERYTHING ELSE it was my “job” to make dinner each night. I mean, how difficult could it be to make dinner for a family of four each night? Lord knows those television cooking shows make it seem easy enough to whip up a delicious meal from a bunch of nothing.

The logical side of me knows that many, many people are behind the scenes of those shows. Still, they make me feel inferior. Their happy demeanor at the end of the 30-minute segment holding a full course meal most times is enough to make me sick.  Occasionally, I “drink the punch” and make their recipe. Cauliflower pizza crust was one of those moments! I believe my picture below says it all! I have way more confidence in recipes from my friends, since I know they would never lead me astray.  I am also planting a vegetable garden this summer right outside my kitchen door because if all else fails we can always eat salad, right?

Just in case you do not recognize this... it was my second attempt at cauliflower pizza crust.

Moral: All we can do is our best, and if that isn’t good enough try, try again!

your struggling chef friend,

A little thing that works for me: Sometimes I roast a chicken for dinner.  It’s so easy, flavorful and semi-healthy. I cut a bulb of garlic in half and stuff it inside the dry chicken. Then I drizzle the chicken with olive oil and shake Montreal Seasoning on top. Bake at 325 until that little white timer thing pops up. After I slice and platter the chicken up I place the remaining chicken carcass in a plastic bag and freeze it so I can make homemade chicken soup another night.  One meal, two dinners: do I hear someone say SNOOZE BUTTON?

Introducing my “A” Team …

That A stands for Allison. The A Team refers to the people responsible for keeping me so awesome! Yes, that part about awesome was sarcasm.  In keeping it real though, I am not referring to a staff of cosmetologists, personal assistants or public relation people. I am speaking of that team that helps me get through my day, year, life. The people who help it run as smooth as it possibly can.  

My team includes the obvious and much appreciated cast of characters; husband, mother, sister, children, extended family and friends. But they are just the nucleus of my team. Along with them are the doctors, dentists, tax accountants, financial wizards, my home and health insurance agents, the gals at our credit unions and my Blog Editor! I cannot comprehend or do ANY of those jobs, hence my immense appreciation for their patience and professionalism.

So far we are all the same I suspect, right? But apparently here is where I may be different. My dear friend was visiting me many years ago and was surprised to find I knew that name of the woman behind the deli counter. After that, she was not at all surprised then when I invited my mail carrier to a brunch at my home. 

My philosophy is really quite simple… if you help me in any way at all, then I am grateful and will respond with kindness and almost feel obligated to address you by your name. So, yes I know my recycling guys name is Willie. Every two weeks he empties our bins and then lugs them back to my house. A neighbor asked me how come the recycling guy brings our empty bins up our driveway for us. I responded, “Willie doesn’t do that for you?” Kindness matters.

When our children were young we moved to Michigan. If you have ever moved, you know how important figuring out when garbage day is, right? So every Tuesday my children and I would lug garbage, empty boxes and ugly window treatments to the end of our driveway. It was summer and super hot - so one day my kids ran out and gave our garbage man a cup of lemonade. The next week they offered him a granola bar. By the end of that first month they were making him pictures on the driveway with chalk, and he would write messages back to them!!! It was not long before all our errands were scheduled around Tuesday so that we could see our friend. I wrote a letter to his company explaining how he represented the company with class, professionalism and kindness. He was promoted soon thereafter and we were disappointed that we would not see him anymore. Guess who came dressed in business casual to our home for lunch every so often? You betcha! Kindness matters.

My friend Mr. Charles is on the right. We took this selfie when I went back to Tuscaloosa for a visit!  If you see him, please tell him how much I still miss him!!!

I also know my post person’s name and visit him when I am back in town! I was kind when I brought my jewelry in to be fixed; came out with a job and lifetime friends! I’d be a fool not to befriend the girls who fix my Cruella De Vil hairdo every single month! I’ve attended Barre Class enough to be able to call a few of them my friends too. Knowing the people who are on your team makes the daily grind feel more like visiting with friends!

One of my husbands favorite quotes that he shares with every single offensive line he coaches, college or pro, is, “No man is an island, he must draw his strength from others.”  He got that right, except that this island is a gal!  

Moral: Kindness takes little effort and often costs nothing, but can make the biggest difference to everyone involved. Spread kindness!

with kindness,

A little thing I do: Whenever I speak to someone helpful on the phone I always ask to speak to their supervisor. It may take five minutes of my time, but the joy I receive from sharing my positive experience is utterly worth every second!

What kind little thing do you do?

One person's trash...

To the rest of the world Wednesday may be Hump Day, but to me, it is Recycling Day!  I love this day. I have been an avid reduce, reuse, repurpose and recycler for more than half my lifetime.  This means I was recycling long before it was either cool or convenient. Some might say I’m a girl ahead of my time.

I am incredibly proud of this part of me. I shared this affinity and belief when I taught kindergarten. We tackled topics like recycling, water conservation, air pollution and the increasing numbers of landfills.  These young people knew to turn off water while brushing their teeth.  They knew it was unconscionable to throw cigarette butts out of car windows.  These five-year-olds toted rinsed out empty cans to school everyday to be recycled. In short, they “got it.”

To this day still, I strive to collect more recycling than trash. I’ve heard people say that they don’t like to recycle because neighbors will get a glimpse into their lives.  Trust me, we don’t pass judgement on all the wine bottles you’ve got, nor for all those flattened boxes of mac and cheese. And my feelings are not hurt one little bit that you clearly had a party and did not invite me!!!

Since my recycling seems to always overflow, I needed to ponder this challenge during our recent kitchen renovation. I thought out loud how cool it would be if I could just make a hole in the kitchen wall and drop our recycling into the bin that is just on the other side in the garage. With the genius help of my contractor, who also just happens to be my brother in law, Voila! This might be the coolest feature in our home because it is functional, unique and encourages EVERYONE to recycle!  

There is a aluminum chute in the hole that guides all recycling into the bin.

Not only do I recycle, but I repurpose.  I can repurpose the heck out of just about anything. I truthfully cannot drive by an old window pane, door or broken down chair without pulling over and rescuing it from impending doom.  Some people like stray cats.  I like stray inanimate objects. In my head I am saving it from filling a garbage dump, but really I am brimming with the excitement of what this newfound treasure might become. That is exactly the moment when the fine line blurs between saving the Earth and hoarding. I often wonder if I might be just one rescued window away from appearing on a reality television show!

This paper towel holder used to be an ice picker upper back in its day!

Moral: It is so rewarding to know that you are doing your part.

with hope,

A little thing I do: I combined my obsession for rescued window panes with my love of chalkboards! At gatherings I ask friends to sign the board! Others are for me to change depending on the season, reason or just because! Just buy whiteboard at your local hardware store to fit within your frame.  If you smile and be kind you’ll even find that they might cut it to size for you! Paint the brown side of the whiteboard with three coats of chalkboard paint - it’s that simple!

Rescued this treasure covered in dirt with broken glass panes-look at her now!

I’m all ‘bout that bass, ‘bout that bass, but I have no treble

I cannot carry a tune.  I struggle to hear the beat.  I cannot read music, therefore I cannot play an instrument. Oh and dancing does not come naturally either.

That said, like with many people a single musical note and I CAN TIME TRAVEL in an instant. With one note I am lying on my shag green carpet listening to Elton John’s Your Song 45 rpm I purchased with my very own chore money. Hearing The Partridge Family’s I Think I Love You reminds me I am still waiting for David Cassidy to ask me to marry him! Catching a note of Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver and I am reminded of how sad I was when my dad went on a trip overseas, something that was actually a glimpse of what was to come.

With little to no musicality, my life still relies heavily upon music.  I did a whole lot of driving when the kids were young.  To pass the time they earned a quarter for every artist they recognized. How proud I was when they knew the difference between Elton John and Billy Joel at the ripe old age of 4.  Now of course, the tables have turned. It’s not so easy for me to decipher between Kid Kudi and Kid Rock, but I give it a go!  Music inspires me as well.  I wonder if Alicia Keys knows that when she sings Superwoman it makes me feel as if I can do just about anything. Music fills voids for me too. I can turn on a favorite song and even if I am alone all of a sudden I am surrounded.

Since I am a football person, it would be difficult not mention the importance of music in stadiums across our country. The emotion exuded from fans can take your breath away. Watching fans sing the National Anthem in heartfelt unison moments before “battle” is always a goose-bump moment for me.  Sweet Home Alabama and I’m back in crimson and houndstooth, shaking my pompom cheering on my Tide.  Thunderstruck plays and I am in Spartan Stadium watching Sparty (the Michigan State mascot) in a horse-drawn chariot charge onto the field. Hearing Callin’ Baton Rouge just before a night game in LSU Stadium is an experience of a lifetime, even if you’re in enemy territory..  

Music keeps so many moments in my lifetime part of who I am. Return to Pooh Corner and I am rocking my son to sleep.  American Pie are my daughter and I driving to Disney under a starry sky.  Unchained Melody puts me on a first date with my husband. Forever Young and I am watching a part of our football family buried far too young. Frank Sinatra and we’re all in the kitchen cooking. James Taylor songs go hand-in-hand with my sister. Boys of Fall and I shudder how important a song about a game I had no idea about can now reduce me to tears. God Bless the U.S.A. by Lee Greenwood and I still choke up in disbelief at the mind blowing, numbing and forever altering events of 9-11.

So as you can see, music has always had a direct line to my heart.  Even as I sit here writing I am listening to music that will hopefully one day remind me of this day! It’s just part of my ever-growing musical memories cd. Lucky me!

Everyone has songs that resonate with them.  I’d really love for you to share your song and memories with me, if for no other reason than to maybe stir up another memory inside me!

Moral: Memories, good and bad, that have been stored away can sometimes be brought alive in an instant, meaning they weren’t really stored away at all, but simply waiting for the right time to come out of hiding!

love...love...love, (nod to the Beatles)