Fall Celebration

Since confession my undying disdain for October, I have remembered so many reasons to enjoy it (in spite of the cold rain). Autumn is by far our family’s favorite season.  We have celebrated our mutual love for all things Fall, the harvest, and God’s provision for the past 7 years.  One year involved me swiping sugar beets off the side of the road and later trying them with our Fall Feast. We’ve always enjoyed the pumpkin patch, fall colors, apples, and a family picture.  All in all, it has really been about enjoying our children and enjoying being a family. This year we made caramel apples,

had our Fall Feast (harvest pot roast with carrots, potatoes, acorn squash, collard greens, bread, and apple upside down cake.

New this year: pumpkin carving.  My kids have never carved a pumpkin (at our house anyway). I’ve never felt okay with carving a pumpkin because I haven’t quite fully known what to think about Halloween (from a Christian perspective).  Now, I’m trying so hard to be normal and have a normal family, and now I’m confident that God knows my family is not trying to attract dead spirits to our house

Nathan was the carver, and the kids helped clean it out. Noah has never been fond of getting his hands all gooey and gross. But since the first time she ever touched a pumpkin at the age of two, Moriah has loved getting her hands gooey.

The pumpkin came with various templates, the kids chose the monkey.  Once Nathan started cutting, I think it reminded him of woodwork.  He was pretty cute, holding it up and looking at it with pride.

I was surprised at how proud Nathan was of his pumpkin.  Just like anything he makes with his hands.  The kids were very protective of the pumpkin. Nathan wanted it outside so everyone could see, but the kids wanted it inside so no one would wreck it and so they could enjoy it all day. I think the pumpkin and the cake were the big hits with everyone.  We truly had a good time,and we’re definitely carving a pumpkin again next year.

leaving a legacy: part 2 of 3

I started a series a little while ago. I kind of got distracted.  So, here’s the question:  How will people remember you?  How do you want to be remembered?  What are you imparting to others? I really started thinking about this at my grandmother’s funeral a few years ago.  She was truly an amazing woman. So amazing that the life she lived still impacts people even though she is no longer a presence in our lives.  I don’t want to live a life based on what people will think of me if, but I do want to live a life that impacts people for good and for the glory of God.

baking with The Boy

Whenever I cook, I know The Boy is right by my side waiting for an opportunity to help.  He’s just like I was as a kid.  I was always in the kitchen with my mom or grandmother.  My mom was the cook, and my Granny was the baker.  She has passed on her sweet tooth to her children, her children’s children, and so on.  I am doing my part to carry on her legacy.  Noah has quite the palate, quite the sweet tooth, and quite the desire to cook.  This past weekend, we bonded in the kitchen making apple pie–which is my favorite fruit pie.

from the crust

to the apples

together, we made a pie. And it was so sweet.

Snow

Something about snow is very comforting.  It makes things quiet and it’s soothing.  I like the snow and I love Autumn.  It’s a special treat to have them both.

the salon saga comes to a close

I have finally found a salon that meets and exceeds all of my expectations.  It was a wonderful spa-like experience, excellent service and quality technique that didn’t leave me worried about the condition of my hair.  Yay!

the salon saga continues

Since being up north and going back to relaxed hair, I have had the most difficult time finding a qualified professional to relax my hair with quality products.  I’ve tried doing it myself, but my hair started breaking off. And though, hair is only hair. It’s my hair.  I have yet to meet a person who truly did not care about their hair. Hair is important.  According to my friend Ryan, you can have on the best outfit, but messy hair is going to overshadow that outfit.  Even though I laugh about that statement more than I take it seriously, I agree.  She’s also the one that reminded me of a time that I said in my most liberated black woman voice (cause apparently I used to have a liberated black woman voice), “I am not my hair!”

Later this morning I’m going to get my hair done.  It happens every 8 weeks.  This is the second salon I’m trying since moving to the Cities.  Even though there is a considerable population that would benefit from a salon that specializes in a variety of hair textures (more specifically, “black hair”), there is not a market for upscale black hair salons.  So this results in plenty of ghetto, creamy crack houses. I’m sure there are lots of qualified cosmetologists in these salons.  I am not going to risk my life or my hair giving them a trial run unless I am specifically referred to them. In fact, I don’t care if it’s upscale, I’d just prefer that people weren’t on their cell phones or eating Cheetos while they apply chemicals to my hair. It’s a bonus if they offer me a bottle/glass of water. Or, shoot, ask my name.

Today, Ebony is going to do my hair. She is the only person in this particular multicultural, upscale salon that does relaxers.  This salon has gotten local recognition for being positioned to cater to all hair types and their prices are the same has the crack house I went to two months ago. They called yesterday to confirm my appointment, which is a plus in their favor, cause it’s just a little extra step in customer service and I respect the business side of confirming appointments. I hope today is the end of my quest. I’ll let you know.

dancing

When Nathan and I took our ballroom dancing course two years ago, the instructor gave the women in the class one thing to work on: “Let your partner lead. If you  leave this class knowing how to do that, you’ve learned ballroom”  It was a bold statement, but I soon learned that if I did not follow my partner, we would not be able to learn the dances accurately or at all.

Throughout the course I expressed frustration regarding not knowing what was coming next or which direction we were going.  She came to us and said, “Nathan, you lead her.  If you lead her strongly she can’t help but go the direction she needs to go.  Andrea, trust him.” Along the way I also learned that we have to give each other resistance.  We had to push against each other.  It was the only way I would feel him and be able to follow his lead and it was the only way he could guide me. I’ve been revisiting this lesson since this past Sunday when I learned the answer to why my relationship with the Lord has been different–not the way it once was.

I could parallel the change to any relationship. As people grow and change, the relationship changes.  That’s one reason why marriage should never get old and boring cause if both of you are constantly growing and changing, marriage is always a new adventure, a pleasure to be along for the ride. It’s as if you’re getting to know each other all over again.  So, I figured that my relationship with the Lord was simply different cause I was different–growing, and the Lord and I were simply relating on a different level, like a parent relates to their adult child.

I’ve been thinking about dancing a lot lately. How you are an extension of your partner, how you have to dance in sync.  You have to be in step with your partner or you end up lost.  That’s what was shared on Sunday.  A word of encouragement/direction/warning was given aloud for someone in the congregation.  I’m sure I’m not the only one who benefited. Nonetheless, the speaker pointed out that someone was out of step with the Lord and that as they come back into step with him, they’ll feel closer…Honestly, I don’t remember everything he said. I just remember thinking about the moment I stopped dancing, and it hit me.

The reason I’ve been so surprised when changes in our life occur, or so clueless as to what the Lord is doing in me is that I have not been dancing with the Lord–figuratively or literally. I have stopped standing on the tops of his feet like a little girl does with her daddy.  I’ve just  been fluttering about, flapping along behind him instead of being in step with him. I stopped dancing and I lost track of where we were going.Not dancing with the Lord is the reason I’ve felt so distant even though we talk.  What once seemed to me like a uniquely, intimate connection became a surface relationship.  But now, I’m refocused and I’m dancing again. A lady once said to me that God will always love me and he will always know everything about me and he will always be close to me, but drawing close to him helps me feel better.  Being in step with the Lord is not for him. It is for me.

On the feet of my Father and in his firm embrace,

Dancer

this weekend was awesome

This weekend was awesome because I had help tackling this

We all worked together on the house.  Honestly, before we moved to Minneapolis I enjoyed doing it all on my own. At least I thought I did.  No need to be a domestic martyr.  We were all so much happier doing it together.

This weekend was awesome because when I walked into the above kitchen I said, “Lord, I’d really like to go out to eat tonight.”  Nathan came home after being awarded a bonus for hard work and said, “let’s go out to eat.”

We beat the weekend/homecoming rush. This restaurant is just three blocks away and has at least 25 malt flavors made with fresh ingredients and Kemp’s ice cream. The Malt Shop has a unique menu: items you wouldn’t expect to find in a malt shop, such as ratatouille + all the malt shop favorites.

I thought for sure the guitar player’s long hair would get caught in the strings.  He was good, and so were the malts (I heard). The restaurant was kid friendly. As for the “Old Fashioned Chocolate Soda;” yuck.

Having weekends as rich as this one makes the days of not seeing much of Nat a lot easier to handle.  Rich weekends also make countless days of this

less dreary.

Here’s to taking the week head-on in anticipation for the weekend.  I hope you enjoyed your Monday!

–Andrea

Merger

I’m looking for a little feedback.  After all the work I put in to start two blogs and have a common homepage for those, I’m considering just merging them.  On my craft blog, I have had trouble finding my voice.  It’s weird that something as simple as a topic effects how I think I should write.  I already have a voice here, it is one that is many years old. If I choose to share a crafty/artsy project I’ll be in a better position to write about it here. Theoretically.

I haven’t been creating much lately, but I think the reason I have trouble writing on here consistently is that I’ve painted myself into a corner.  A “this is a blog about my family corner.”  I used to think that I would do better with blog boxes–family blog, blog about me, blog about creativity.  It isn’t going so well.  I feel trapped. And the knowledge that I have two blogs takes up two spaces in my brain that I think should only be one space.

Since I am all of those things and my life is all of those things: family, creativity, me; I am considering just having this space be a hodgepodge of me and my life and my thoughts.  I still hope to maintain the element of not exposing too much yet being open and honest.

I think it will work for me because sometimes I don’t have anything to say about my family, but maybe I have something to say about fabric, or decorating, or pets, or whatever. So I hope this will result in more writing and more variety.

I also need to remember to take more pictures.  Our new camera is awesome! I need to use it more. Just one more thing to try and remember.

–A note about Welcome Home Friday.  I get bored, I forget and I’ve already shown you most everything that is really close to our house–that we enjoy.  I also get shy about taking pictures of stuff in public.  I need to get over that.

Anyway, what are your thoughts on the merger?

October

Historically, October has been my least favorite month of the year.  Today, I would say it is on pace to continue in that same vein.  In the eloquently poised words of a blogging/Facebook friend

“I spit on this weather.”