Thursday, April 2, 2015

Full House

I played matchmaker with my favorite mechanic and Alex's girlfriend, Emily and she is now the proud owner of a new (to her) car.  New cars are fun....especially when it's someone else's money.


 Church this week with the youngest of my houseful.  He still hasn't caught on that we're not cool and at the age of 16, is growing up way too fast.  The talk lately is of college because (gulp) by this time next year he will be (hopefully) opening his acceptance letters.

I'm not ready.  But I am.  It's fun to watch them fly.

The other night I made dinner for my family and then ran out the door for wine and cheese and then (score!) leftover Turkish food at my neighbors house.  Sometimes you just need to escape from boy land and hang out with girls because as much as I love my boys, they also can drive me a bit batty.


The oldest shrub and his girlfriend are here for the week.  I'm happy.  Very, very happy.  (But we miss you, Emily.)

My girlfriend Katharine's dad was a one of kind person.  He was bigger than life and has influenced us in so many ways...he called his wife his 'bride' until the end, believed in lunches out, convertibles, grand european travels with kids in tow on a teachers salary, cocktails, more cocktails, and just the living of life as an adventure.  He was a Pastor who mentored so many and was a huge part in the planting of the university where that guy that I like so much teaches...PLUS, he raised a really great daughter who is the female version of her dad.

Life is short.  



That guy that I like so much and I are both off today...there's errands to be run and a lunch out to be eaten and a garden to sit in.  There's also church tonight and a houseful of people in our little house on our little street.

We're packed to the gills and it's pretty lively.  I'm holding on to this because these times are changing and I'm not sure how many more holidays we'll all have together for the next few years.  

So I'm cooking.  Lots. And watching.  Lots.  And listening.  Lots.  

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