Slip 'n Slide and the Magic Carpet Rides

Just a few days ago, I realized I was insane.  It was the day before we were leaving to take the church youth group, and high school kids in our Christian school, to Okemo Mountain Resort, in Vermont, for a few days of Winter fun, fellowship, and nightly Bible time.  I'd been packing feverishly when I realized I still needed to grab the Hershey's cocoa so I could make my super amazingly delicious, somewhat famous, hot cocoa.  I became frustrated when I couldn't find it.  Ever since we moved to Jersey, and into what I call "The Wonder Condo," we seem to be short on space and things get lost in the makeshift pantry, which was intended to be a coat closet.  So now we just drape our coats over the furniture or on the dogs or something.  Soon I was taking everything out, and the floor was covered with canned goods and boxed pasta.  The missing cocoa was a baffling mystery... until I looked up, and saw it sitting in the very front of the 2nd shelf, where it had been the whole time.  Sure, I was happy to finally find it, but now I knew I was facing some serious mental slippage.  And I don't think that's the kind of thing that gets better with time. I took a moment to mourn the loss of my mind, and then I had some coffee.  My new coffee addiction was only a few days old.  30+ years of drinking coffee about twice a year had suddenly become 3 or 4 times a day.  Maybe that was the problem.


So the next day we all piled into a 15 passenger van and headed north.  Another couple from church, Dan and Sarah, drove a truck, and U-haul trailer full of skis and luggage. I'd always wanted to visit Vermont, but never imagined I actually would.  I was so excited!  As soon as we crossed the state line, I began to hum the opening music from that old show, "Newhart."  And then I started quoting, "Hi, I'm Larry, this is my brother Daryll, and that's my other brother, Daryll..." Here's a little clip I found:

The house we rented was the most freakish house I've ever visited.  It was perfect!  There were narrow, winding stairs hidden behind a door, and there were twisty, turny stairs built into the bricks above the fireplace.  I wondered if a trip up those stairs would be hot on the feet! The girls chose the basement level, the boys were given the top floor, and the adults had the middle floor, which we figured would create some kind of impassable barrier betwixt the two.  I'd brought enough food to feed an army!  And it's a good thing, because Ludlow, VT has only one grocery store, and it was closed for the week, for renovations.  Then I realized that Sarah and I had both brought our Keurigs and a massive supply of Green Mountain coffees.  Some of Sarah's hair is purple, and some of mine is still pink, so more and more I'm thinking we were separated at birth or something... except she's young and super thin, and I'm not either one of those things.

Here's the house.  It looks deceptively normal from the outside.

The next day, after the slopes closed for the day, at 4 pm, Steve and I headed down the mountain because I needed some garlic, which no one really seemed to think was a big deal, but what kind of spaghetti sauce has no garlic in it? This was the day we realized that all of Ludlow shuts down by mid-afternoon, even during peak ski season.  So with the town's only grocery store closed and no one else selling garlic, we were soon headed back, when I saw the Green Mountain Sugar House, which I'd been hoping to visit.  They were still open! I was all excited and Steve said we'd stop.  We went in, right at the edge of dark. 


So I was in the sugar house getting all worked up about maple syrup that's fresh from the tree, and learning about the different grades of syrup, and stressing over which grade was right for us.  The lady working there even let me taste some!  Now, I've never liked maple syrup in my life, which might make one wonder why on earth I was so stoked about visiting the sugar house.  Well, it's like this- if there was ever a time in my life, when I might like maple syrup, this was it.  This was the real deal.  And guess what?  I loved it. ♥ So we purchased a jug of syrup, cute maple leaf jars of syrup, and maple fudge. Then I started noticing lots of Green Mountain coffee in their gift shop.  And this was Green Mountain Sugar House.  And then I saw "Vermont Blend." And I was all "Wait... what??"  I didn't even know that Green Mountain coffee was made in the Green Mountains of Vermont.  It was like some strange, powerful coffee force had reached down to Jersey, hooked me with it's delicious caffeinated amazingness, and then pulled me to its frigid mountain home.  I thought it to be a rather bizarre coincidence.

When we came out of the sugar house, I noticed how slippery the steps were.  It had been rainy all day, but I still didn't realize we were now experiencing freezing rain. Then we climbed into the van and headed up the mountain.  Then we got stuck.  We just kept sliding up and down a hill.  Then we were sideways and I was sure we were gonna die.  Then we went back down and stopped at a gas station.  While we waited on our friend, Dan, to come get us, we decided to pick up some bottled waters.  And the whole ground was one solid sheet of ice, and I kept saying, "Steeeeeve!  I can't waaaalk on thiiiis," with a super whiny Southern drawl.  I watched as a brawny looking woman effortlessly walked right by me, carrying a large case of beer, which she hoisted into the back of her 4WD pickup truck. I don't know if her shoes had better traction, or if the locals are just better ice-walkers.  That's when I wished I'd asked for snow boots for Christmas.  I could feel everyone looking at me like I was a fish out of water.  At the register, the cashier informed us that their beer is cheaper than their water, but we said we'd just spring for the more expensive, water.


Soon we were headed back up the mountain, and got stuck again.  Dan attached the front of the van to the back of his Ford Ranger, with some kind of big rope thing, and pulled us up.  I can't believe a small truck can pull a 15 passenger van up an icy mountain, all by itself!  It was one of the scariest things I have ever experienced.  We were just swishing all over the road as we were towed.  And when he would stop, WE COULDN'T.  There was a lot of praying going on, and many stops along the way.  Dan got out one time, and he looked like he was on a moving sidewalk.  He never took a step, but slid from his door, all the way down to Steve's, without ever losing his footing.  I'm pretty sure that hour took years off my life.  I should have had my eyes closed the whole time, but terror forced them wide open.  I'm glad no kids were with us.  And I can't begin to tell you how many times in my life, I've been in a church van, and scared on an icy mountain!  We need a new plan!  But God was good to us, and we, and the vehicles made it back to the house safely.

 One night, we went ice skating, in an open rink, outside.  I felt so happy as I gracefully (ok, sort of) glided around the rink.  For me, skating around on that rough, ungroomed ice, with the wind in my face, felt so freeing. I was so elated, exept a few times when they played gross oldies music, which makes me die a little inside.  Then I skated over to Steve, who was leaning on the wall, on the outside, and he decided to kiss me. Then I said, "Hold on, Steve," and I snatched one glove off my hand, so I could wipe snot off my nose.  Then I said, "Ok, Steve..."  "Nice, Amy...," he replied.  He didn't have snot because he was just standing there.  If he'd been zipping around a rink in 20 degree weather, he would have had the snots too. 


Noah learned to ski.  I really never thought he'd like it.  On the first day, he laid in the snow and cried, then "walked down the mountain."  But on the second day, he got a lesson, and practiced using the "carpet."  The carpet is a lift that you stand on, and it takes you up a small hill, then you ski down.  It's pretty nifty-doodles, really. The kids were all calling it the "magic carpet ride thing." 

Noah

The nighttime shenanigans were no different from what we've seen in the past.  There was scaring, plastic wrap on toilet seats, creepy music sent down the stairs via a phone hidden inside a shoe, toilet paper strung in the wee morning hours, lipstick on mirrors, and spooky games of hide and seek in that creeptastic house.  And for those who know me... no, I seriously was not involved in any of it.  The kids complained about the tapping noises the house makes, which I'd noticed myself one morning, when I was all alone. It speeds up, then slows down, and finally stops. I dramatically suggested that the house was "semi-haunted," with the intention of planting fear in their hearts, but Steve reassured everyone that it was just a LEPRECHAUN running through the house in the night, and when the tapping slowed, it was just him slowing as he reached the last bedroom, and then staring closely at people while they slept...


On the last day, while everyone was finishing up their last hour or so of skiing, Steve and I snuck back into the town of Ludlow, to soak up some culture.  Upon arrival, we discovered a restaurant called "The Hatchery," with a singing baby chick on the sign, so naturally I had to go there.  Once inside, we had a view of the distant slopes, and a menu of yums to choose from.  The food was wonderful, but they didn't give free refills ($2.50 each!) "WHAT KIND OF PLACE DOES THAT?? WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??," I asked, probably a little too loudly, as we laughed hysterically.  Then we found out they only accept cash payments, so Steve had to walk next door to the bank while I finished up my toasted turkey and apple sandwich, with chunky cranberry mayo, and Vermont cheddar cheese.  We left, shortly before they closed... at 2pm.  Walking down the slush-covered sidewalks was enjoyable, and the views of the ski slopes, which provided a breathtaking backdrop for the quaint town, could be seen from almost anywhere you stood.  A nearby river barely flowed, as it was largely frozen.  Feet of snow covered everything.  Overall, beautiful Ludlow made me feel as though I'd stepped back in time- to a better time maybe.

Here's the restaurant.  It's a singing bird!  Notice the wreath on the door.  There were still Christmas decorations everywhere in Ludlow!

My only complaint about our visit to Vermont, is that I didn't get to see a single stinkin' moose.  What a disappointment! But we had an amazing time and I can't wait to go back.  I hope we can take the youth group again next year, so I can make hundreds of grilled cheeses again, because apparently my grilled cheeses rock.  Praise God there were no serious injuries- just a couple of fractured wrists, which we learned about from this phone call from Noah:  "Hey Dad.  Guess what?  I rode the big lift and skied down the BIG hill!  It was great! ... Oh, and Zack's in the First Aid.."

I thought I'd share my recipe for hot cocoa, to keep everyone warm on these cold Winter days.  I wrote this recipe, but every member of my family on my Mom's side, has their own version of this.  Some use regular milk instead of evaporated, but I like the flavor of the evaporated.  You can use whichever you like, or a combination of both.  This has been my most requested recipe over the years, and I've never really given it out, because I didn't know the measurements.  So for all the people who've wanted it, I finally measured stuff, and here it is.

Super Amazingly Delicious,
 Almost Famous, Hot Cocoa... or Whatever.

1/4 cup cocoa powder

1 cup sugar

3 cans evaporated milk, plus one can of water

1/2 teaspoon vanilla flavoring

Desired toppings

Mix the cocoa powder and sugar in a large saucepan.  Add one can of milk.  Heat until sugar and cocoa are disolved and it starts to boil up.  Quickly add the remaining cans of milk, plus 1 can of water.  Once hot, remove from heat and add vanilla.  If it's still too sweet for your taste, just add a little milk or water. Pour into cups and top with whipped cream or marshmallows, or if you can't decide which, add both, like my son does.  At Christmastime I serve this with a candy cane.  Sometimes I shave chocolate over it too. 

And for those who like to see people fall, I leave you with this.  Watch Kary terrorize both the bunny slope, and the "magic carpet."  Her first victim:  Noah.  Then:  Everyone else.  Funniest starts around 1:40.  Videoed by one of the teens, Amanda.

Now I Can Have Memories!

Most people just GIVE their kids their gifts on Christmas morning, and for the most part, that's what we did.  But before we could reveal the BIG surprise, we decided they had to be tortured a little.

We were visiting family in NC, and on Christmas morning we carefully placed envelopes on the tree, with notes inside instructing the kids to perform various embarrassing tasks, before they could move on to a much needed clue. Each performance was given a "pass" or "fail" and they couldn't move on until each thing was passed.  Yeah, we're horribly awesome like that.

 These aren't extremely creative because we didn't think of this until Christmas Eve, but here's what they had to do:

1.  Run outside to a manhole cover, sit for a moment, and then return, all while shouting, "I'm a princess."

2.  Sing "I'm a Little Teapot," complete with motions.  You'd never know she actually can sing...

3.  Dance to M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This."  Just Because.  I'm so glad we did this because we had NO IDEA Noah had these crazy-good dance moves...

4.  Act out any scene from "Monsters Inc."

5.  Walk like Jack Sparrow.

6.  Wrap one of themselves.

7.  Hug their Dad and say, "Oh Daddy, we love and cherish you so!  Won't you please give us the last clue?

Then they were given the envelope with the clue, which read:

 "Riddle me this, riddle me that,
 Your gift is near a picture, where Dad wasn't fat."

(I didn't write that clue.)  So they ran thru the house, screaming, and we heard comments like, "NO... DAD WAS FAT IN THAT ONE." Soon they came running in with the box.  It's become a Christmas morning tradition that Elizabeth addresses Noah as "you idiot" at some point during gift opening. We probably don't do enough to discourage it, but I've never been one to stand in the way of tradition.  Listen carefully and you will hear,"That's what those are, you idiot!" Steve says that is why this clip will never show up in a Disney commercial, but even so, it's priceless. 

The beautiful hats were made by 2 a T Tot Shoppe

 

After the hardest year in the world for our family, this is how we were gonna end it, and begin a new one.

So a few days later, we were in Epcot.  We had dinner reservations at this lovely restaurant, and tickets to the Candlelight Processional after dinner.

And all night, Steve could NOT stop singing, "We're 3 caballeros, 3 gay caballeros, they say we are birds of a feather!"♫ ...because of this boat ride attraction, also at the Mexico Pavillion.  I could sense the stares of others..

And then, we were blown away by the best choir and orchestra I've ever heard.  And the Christmas story was signed, from the Bible, by deaf celebrity Marlee Matlin.  A man interpreted.  It's hard to see her in the following pic, but she's the one wearing red. And I don't really give a flying fig about celebrities and all, but we found out that just 2 weeks earlier they had Trace Adkins in for this, so then I was all devastated that we could have heard his big, deep voice reading, "And it came to pass..."  I wonder if he sang too!





So the day was good, until the fireworks began and Noah had a nuclear meltdown and we had to run out of he park.  They really were the most intense fireworks I've ever seen, AND they set the lake on fire, which you can feel.  We ALL thought it was a little scary at times.  When we got back to the room, the kids and I had several surprises waiting for us, including this:

Chocolate dipped rice krispie treat mouse ears on sticks.  We would later buy more to take home.



AND THEN THE NEXT DAY WAS NEW YEAR'S EVE. 

Ok, Disney World should warn you when you make your reservation with them for New Year's.  Something like, "Just so you know, on New Year's Eve we morph from the 'Happiest Place on Earth' into 'The Unhappiest Nightmare you'll ever experience as long as you shall live."  The Magic Kingdom loses all of it's magic that day, and it's a big free-for-all and a fight to survive.  We had dinner inside the castle which was completely lovely, but then we came out and flowed into the masses.  It was pretty cool for awhile because Disney gave everyone free New Year's hats and noisemakers that I LOVED.  It was loud and exciting. And then Disney World thought it would be a good idea to continue with the usual Electric Lights parade and it took us an hour to find a spot on the street where we could stand without some Disney employee-Nazi person yelling at us for standing somewhere we weren't allowed to stand.  And then the parade was as beautiful as ever.

And minutes later, it was over and the pushing and shoving began.  And tragically, I lost my noise maker in all that commotion. We decided to leave.  And about an hour later, we finally had an opportunity to escape as the glob of people we were stuck in, migrated near an escape route.  Then we saw this cute lizard:

Soon we were back at the Contemporary resort, along with a lot of other smart people, and we watched the fireworks and rang in the New Year from an observation deck.  There were even speakers piping in the sound from the Magic Kingdom, which was good because it helped me to not miss my lost noisemaker so much. Disney has fireworks that explode into the shape of numbers during the countdown!  There's nothing Disney can't do... except close the parks before they are too full.  Anyway, all of the exploding numbers were backwards, so that's what happens when you chicken out, and watch from the resort.  The people who risked their lives in the park saw the numbers correctly.  Being seconds from our room was totally worth watching backwards fireworks though.  They said it was gonna take 3 hours to get everyone out of the park that night.

Here are a few more highlights:

This was a hard day for Elizabeth, partly because we had to take a boat to get there and she gets nervous because she's afraid of sharks that eat through boats to get people. The Whispering Canyon Cafe, located at the Wilderness Lodge, serves more than just this yummy skillet breakfast. They also dish out a little comedy and harrassment with your meal.  Both days we ate there, Elizabeth was the main target.  When she refused to join in the little kids' stick pony rides, she had to hide from the waiter by climbing under the table, where she ate her biscuit, alone.  I would've probably just ridden the stupid stick pony, but whatever. They also made her get up in front of the restaurant and help them lead, "If You're Happy and You Know It." Twice we asked for more syrup, and then they brought us a one gallon jug of it because we'd become so annoying.  They gave Elizabeth a 2 ounce coke. And the main thing you NEVER EVER want to do there, is ask for ketchup, so we just did without.  Look at those Mickey Mouse waffles.  Best. Waffles. Ever. 

Don't let this cute Tigger fool you.  He's evil.

The coolest thing at Disney- Jedi Training Academy.  Noah got to battle Darth Vader!

Wild bird I harrassed.  He was running by this point, so it's a little blurry but you can still see what a grumpy snob this fowl was.

Our favorite ride in all of Disney World!  We rode it 153 times!  Well, probably 8 times.  I love dinosaur violence!



Ohanas at the Polynesian Resort. There are no words for this place. They cook meats over that fire pit, on skewers. Then they bring you as much steak, chicken, pork, and shrimp as you can cram into your body.

Bread pudding topped with ice cream and a bananas foster sauce.  I was shocked to discover that it's the best dessert in the whole world.




For a moment, Elizabeth and I were sad that our family doesn't drink alcohol (ok, not really) because this drink GLOWED.  But I'm sure they could have lit up a Sprite or something...



Bad moods flared when I forced everyone to ride the teacups, because apparently they're really lame.  Not to mention, our family didn't really fit in one cup and there were disagreements about how much spinning should be allowed.  Noah and I are spinners.  Steve and Elizabeth are not.



This was a snail named "Jeff."  Elizabeth carried him around one day.  We really don't know if the shell was actually occupied, but still, he entertained us for hours.

"It's a Small World" is such a beatiful ride.  Steve slept during the whole thing.  Also, I'd forgotten about Elizabeth's fear of puppets when we did this, so she's been telling everyone how it's the scariest ride at Disney...

I can't figure out how she convinced him to join in on the hula lessons.  She only wanted to do it for the free leis.

She's once, twice, three times a lady.

So after years of Noah sadly telling us he had no Disney memories, he now has 5 fun-filled (and terror-filled) days of memories to last a lifetime.  And despite my being afraid on New Year's, and hit with a door, and an ice cart, by reckless Disney employees, it's hard to not be impressed by Disney World.  Do you know, not once was any restroom stall out of those toilet seat protector tissues?  Thousands of people were hitting those restrooms.  Isn't that amazing?

It's Like a Candy Cane, Except You Can't Eat It

Sometimes the urge to do something weird comes over me with little warning, and I'm overwhelmingly compelled to do it.  So yesterday when I decided that Christmas red highlights would be the perfect Winter look for me, I made a quick call to the JC Penney salon where I had a hair appointment scheduled for the next day.  I wanted to make sure they had some kind of flaming shade of red on hand, and I checked to see if they needed to add more time for me.  Everything was good, so I made sure I had a picture of exactly what I wanted, and then I just had to hope that Faye, the nice older Asian lady who'd only done my hair one time before, was up to speed on peek a boo highlights and such. 

My friend karen was concerned that I'd look like I had a head trauma, but my friend Burgundy thought it would be the best thing I'd ever done.  She suggested that I pair my hair with a wonderfully ugly Christmas sweater, of which she knows I have an impressive hideous collection.  Here's the facebook convo we had (You can skip this part if you'd like, but I think it's funny):

Burgundy: "And you won't be crying tmr!!! You'll be in the mirror admiring your festiveness! Or searching for an ugly christmas sweater to wear with your awesome hair!"

Amy:  ‎"................................. OMW.... I hadn't even thought of pairing this look with a Christmas sweater. I'm so excited I could burst!"

Burgundy:  "HAHAHAHA! It would be AMAZING!"

 Amy:  "Should I go fiber optic light-up or Santa frogs? Or kittens with ornaments??"

Burgundy:  "Oh gosh, could you imagine your hair with the fiber optic????? You'll be the talk of the town!"

 

Amy: "That's the direction I was leaning too. I'll have to make sure I'm good on batteries... You know, I'm supposed to sing at church on Sun night."

Burgundy "YES!!! That's the most perfect occasion I could ever think of for all of this!"

Amy: "And it doesn't just light up... IT FLASHES."

Burgundy:  "It really just keeps getting better and better....Jersey won't be the same. Pictures!!"

Amy:  "Jersey might be the one place where this could go unnoticed! I mean, it's just not gonna pack the same punch as doing this in a small, conservative SC town, but still... the awesomeness of this exists anywhere!"

Burgundy: "I'd have to disagree....I mean, yes, that is where "jersey shore' was born....but I really think a fiber optic light up sweater...THAT FLASHES...on a lady with red hair, singing about baby Jesus.....it's really going to be a head turner lol. You'll definitely have everyones attention though!"

Amy: "I almost wet my pants.."

Then I started thinking maybe my non-lit sweater with frogs in Santa hats might be better for that event.  And my excitement continued to grow.

The next day, I went waltzing into the salon a little early, or actually right on time, which doesn't usually happen with me because of my chronic lateness tendencies.  My husband thinks I can't tell time, but I've told him repeatedly that the inability to understand the passing of time is something you're born with, and there is no cure for it.  Anyway, moments later I'm in the hair chair and I'm showing Faye the picture of hair awesomeness and she said, "No, I can't do that."  My heart sank as I immediately considered how boring my plain golden locks were gonna be for Christmas.  She explained how they didn't have that exact same shade of red, and she'd never done those peek a boos.  And, apparently working with blonde hair is terrifying or something, when you wanna slather some permanent red color on just a few pieces.  I guess she could sense my sadness so she called all the other hair people over and shared the situation, and I was sure one of them would come to my rescue and say they'd do it, but they all said "No."  So I understood and I said to just do the usual.  Now my dreams of the hair and Christmas sweater were shattered.  But I had no idea my day would soon turn into pure HAPPINESS.

One of the hairstylists, Evelyn, kept looking at me, and asking questions like, "What if it were to fade soon?...  What if it stayed and you grew tired of it?"  I assured her that I had given this much thought (for a whole day) and that I understood fading, and how I was mainly doing it to be festive for Christmas, but if it didn't fade after that, I wouldn't die or anything.  Faye was more like, "If something goes wrong, it would be hard to strip that red out, which would really damage your hair...  And I've never done this before..."  So then they decided they'd do it, and I had NO FEAR.

So Faye did the usual stuff to my hair and had me under a dryer and I watched as Faye and Evelyn had a meeting about my hair.  The hand gestures and arm motions suggested they were acting it out.  These women were on it.  They seemed to work out most of the details and I couldn't wait to get out of that dryer,  not just because I was so stinkin' excited, but because I can't breathe in those upside down bowls of hot air.  Soon I'm back in the hair chair, and it felt just like I was about to undergo a medical procedure.  They explained what they were gonna do, there were latex gloves involved, and the lights kinda seemed like operating room lights, after having spent a few minutes in that dark dryer.  The tone was serious.  And in the bowl before me, was the hair goo, that looked like a melted fire engine.  They worked together as they carefully placed three foils on each side of my head.  It was intense.  It was as though they were dissecting a bomb.  They trembled a little, and every move was slow and cautious.  They talked it all through.  Meanwhile, I was giddy. At one point, they didn't realize a tiny little bit of red color had gotten on the comb, and one of them combed thru my hair, creating an instant crisis, but they sprung into action and were able to fix it...mostly.  Once the last foil was clipped, they breathed a sigh of relief.  I had no idea red peek a boos could cause anxiety!

So the timer was set, and everyone was just standing around and celebrating the successful placement of foil.  Suddenly we noticed that Evelyn was staring at the bowl of red goo, with great excitement in her eyes.  Then she grabbed the bowl and ran!  "I want to do mine too!" she proclaimed.  Faye pleaded with her, "No, don't do it!  You'll regret it!"  I excitedly yelled, "DO IT! DO IT!  IT'S CHRISTMASTIME!..."  (Because if I'm gonna look like an idiot, here's my opportunity to take someone down this path with me) So within a minute of my foils being completed, Faye was applying the red to Evelyn's short brown hair.  I quietly said to Evelyn, "We are going to be SO awesome." She seemed to agree.  I was laughing and beaming with pride, thinking I'd started some new exciting hair craze, right there in the JC Penney's hair salon.  I was hoping everyone would jump to their feet and shout, "I'LL HAVE THE FIRE ENGINE HAIR!!!"  And then we'd all high-five, or fist bump, or something. But then I realized that most of their clients at that moment were 80+ year old ladies who didn't seem to express any interest.  But I think that's too bad because I could just see a group of Grandmas, with fire engine red hair, going out on the town and stirring up some real trouble.  I would find it inspiring.  They could call themselves "Red Hots" or "Old Flames" or "The Red Headers" or "The 5 alarm Grannys."

Fifteen minutes later, the timer sounded, and I asked, "How are you going to rinse it?  What will happen when the red washes into the blonde?  They had not totally decided how that part was gonna be handled but I trusted them completely.  We went over to the sinks, and the idea was suggested that I go face-down in the hair sink.  So the next thing I knew, I was standing over a salon sink bowl, while Evelyn held all of my blonde hairs back, and I leaned in and let the foils of red hang down.  It was just like when someone cares enough to hold your hair back while you hang over a cold toilet bowl to vomit, except this was way more fun.  I was laughing so hard, I couldn't breathe.  We were all dying.  People were watching.  Then Faye was spraying cold water in my face, which I think may have blown some chemicals into my eyeball because it began to burn my retina out, but I didn't worry too much about that.  A towel and a few more accidental facial blasts of water seemed to resolve that little problem. Soon she got the red all rinsed and washed.  Then I sat in the chair like a normal person, which I was glad of because it's hard to hang upside down while you're laughing so much, because there's some real potential for drooling (which I managed to avoid), and then she finished washing and conditioning my hair.

Faye dried and styled my hair and it was perfect! Red peek a boo highlights "peek" out on each side of my face.  My hair is like a candy cane, except you can't eat it... and it's not minty.  Everyone loved it, especially me.  They said the color was perfect for my skin tone and everything.  The ladies asked, "Where are you going?  What made you want this hair?"  "Well...," I replied, "I AM going to church tonight.... They'll love it.... and I'm going to visit family for Christmas so it'll be nice to look weird for that..."  They asked where I was from and I said, "NC" so now they probably think Carolina Girls are a little crazy.

"I'm sorry I brought stress into your life today, Faye," I said, on the way out. "NO, you brought FUN!"  She even hugged me, and said, "Everyday- it's boring here.  People come in and everyone gets the same ol' thing.  Then YOU came in!" ... Still, I made sure I gave her a good tip.

A few minutes later my daughter saw my hair and just began screaming with excitement and jealousy!  "Don't worry, Elizabeth," I said. "I've already told Faye you'd want this too." But she will have to wait until Summer, since hair color isn't allowed at school. So for now this awesome hair is ALL MINE.  That's too bad though, because we could have been peppermint hair twins.  I can imagine us singing "Hard Candy Christmas," by the tree, on Christmas Eve.  We'd be as good as Dolly Parton... 


There was wind right before this pic!  Here you can at least see 1 or 2 of the 6 streaks. Some of them are hiding, hence the name, peek a boo. I think, where the 2 colors meet, it actually seems to create the narrow lines like you see on a candy cane.  Also, I learned that it's hard to take pictures of your own hair.


So at the end of the day, my daughter thought I had super cool hair, my hairstylist had learned some new techniques,  I had festive candy cane Christmas hair, and everybody's happy-- except for maybe a few haters who'll think I'm too old for this or will say it looks dumb, but inside THEY WISH their hair was so awesome.

Look at the Candy Cane
What do you see?
Stripes that are red
Like the blood shed for me

White is for my Savior
Who's sinless and pure!
"J" is for Jesus My Lord, that's for sure!

Turn it around
And a staff you will see
Jesus my shepherd
Was born for Me!

How Cherry Pie Came Into My Life

"Steve, you're gonna wreck Cherry Pie," I said, as we weaved in and out of traffic. "No I'm not," he replied. "I'm just trying to get us to where we're supposed to be." Cherry Pie is my car, and how I met her has everything to do with New Jersey.

Months earlier we were living in the upstate of SC. I could see my home state of NC from the back windows of my house, because that's where the mountains began. We'd watched the sun slowly dip behind them many times in the years we were there. Each day I'd watch birds soaring over the abondoned peach orchard behind our house, as clouds slowly drifted by. I often felt envious of the birds. I knew they could see the world, while I spent days stuck inside. In the summer, late afternoon storms would roll in sometimes, and blacken the sky behind those blue mountains, and I thought it was beautiful. At night I could see the moon.  We were like two old friends, the moon and me, keeping each other company while everyone else slept.  Our family lived in the country, and at every roadside stand, you could pick up all the freshly picked peaches you could ever want.  The smell of a peach cobbler, fresh from the oven, took me back to childhood at my Grandma's.  Life was great in SC.  I thought it was one of the most wonderful places on Earth.
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View from our family room.  This is where I did my bird and cloud watching...



And yet again, I mention birds in a blog post.  I'm starting to think this is abnormal...

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Took this one from inside the house.  We had snow last year!  I know 2 pictures of the same thing were not necessary, but since I couldn't decide, I just posted them both rather than struggling for days over which one.  It's my blog afterall, so I can.

But last year our life in SC ended as abruptly as a book being slammed shut in the middle of a good chapter.  If that moment could have made noise, it would have sounded like a record player's needle violently snatched from your favorite old vinyl record.  It was over.  And five minutes later, a job offer in NJ fell into Steve's lap, like rain from the sky.  I still remember saying, "I'm not going to NJ." But we were told that the people of the church where Steve's Dad is pastor, were praying that we'd want to come up here.  I got scared because when a church-full of people start praying, things start happening.  They wanted Steve to be their youth pastor/music leader/teacher/and whatever else...  At least if he wasn't a senior pastor anymore, the four of us wouldn't have to live as cats hanging upside down from the ceiling, as we had the last 3 years or so.  That sounded inviting.  We'd also be working with our own kids as well, and give up the constant struggle to protect them in the life we'd been in.  We could all breathe again.  Breathing is good.

So a few more weeks passed and we were packing up everything we owned-- NJ bound.  During all of this time we experienced great loss.  I won't go into what all it was, because I honestly don't even want to think about it, and certainly no one needs that kind of depressing information while reading a goofball blog such as this.  Put simply, there was death, loss of friends, betrayal, financial loss, lives turned upside down, rejection, sickness,  leaving SC and the life we'd had for 8 1/2 years, while Steve was a pastor.  There.  That's the gist. We experienced more drama than the daytime soaps I'd watched with Grandma when I was growing up, which she calls "the stories." But now real life was harder than the stories ever were. 

During all of this, I took the time to prepare a fun list of demands, which would have to be agreed upon, for me to move to this northern state with a questionable reputation.  This is where Cherry Pie comes in.  I won't go into all of the ridiculous things I listed, not that I've forgotten them.  I'm still waiting for him to say, "Get ready.  We've gotta catch the train to NYC to do that ice skating at Rockefeller Center."  (Which one of my friends happens to be doing today.  When are WE going, Steve?) But among the many things listed, was a new car for me.  Sounds reasonable, right?  It would actually be a necessity in our new life, but I wasn't sure how we would buy it because medical bills had left us as broke as dirt.  But as soon as we got up here, the money for the entire car also just fell into my lap, just as the job offer had fallen into Steve's. Now I know money is money, and money is the root of all evil and all, but this money was so special to me.  Explaining why that was, would be difficult, but I felt like a ray of sunshine was shining down on me from heaven.   So about a week after the move, we were car shopping.  I was walking by some cars, when suddenly I asked, "Wait... What are these little cutenesses?"  That's when I met Cherry Pie.  And soon, she would be mine.


Now the night we bought Cherry Pie was certainly bizarre.  We found ourselves sitting in the dealership at 10pm.  We were tired.  They were tired. We just needed to finish signing papers and get out of there. Life had really taken a toll on me lately. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other, for weeks. And like Randy Travis used to sing, I felt "like a stone" that had been "picked up and thrown"... to NJ.  But the sales manager, who knew NOTHING about us except that Steve is or was, or kinda still is, a pastor.  He had no idea what the last several months had been like.  Suddenly he says, "I need to tell you my story." .......  What?  I'm exhausted and semi-suicidal, and you're gonna tell us your life story?  So he begins talking, and I'm thinking, "Great, we're gonna be stuck here all night in a showroom, that smells strangely like paint thinner with a HALF-CRAZED, high pressure car-pusher."  The other salesman just kept having us sign papers, and I wondered if inside his head he was screaming, "SHUT UP!  SHUUUUUUT UUUUUUP!!!!"  So anyway, he tells us an extremely long story about how he'd had everything he'd ever wanted, and lost it all.  Everything.  His wife, his job, his home, all of his money, and more...  Then, in the end, after countless, outrageous twists and turns, he got it all back, right down to the same honkin' big house and furniture!  There were so many details which humanly seemed impossible!  Then he said, "I'm telling you this to let you know that God can give you back everything that you've lost."  ......  I almost fell out of the chair.  I was so hoping I wouldn't fall out of the chair because that would have been excessively awkward.  I didn't say a word about what had happened to us because I was unable to speak, but I left that night believing that God really sent that man to tell me that.  So Cherry Pie and I left the dealership and headed home, and I began to cope a little better.  I knew I'd never live in Campobello, SC again, and I knew my Daddy who'd recently passed, wasn't coming back, but it reminded me that God was in control of what we have and what we don't have, and there's always a reason for the haves and don't haves, and I really didn't need to worry about what I don't have.  There.

Months have passed now, and we're all very slowly retracting those claws from the ceiling.  Our SC house sold the very first day it was on the market, before we'd even reached NJ, so there'd be no running back home, no matter what we found when we got here.  The church is warm and friendly and the people LAUGH a lot!  That was the first thing that impressed us.  I've realized that NJ isn't near as bad as people say it is.  I'm not sure why some people dislike it.  I kinda enjoy it.  People are really LOUD and fun here. And here, my odd humor isn't usually met with blank stares, or concerned looks.  Maybe if NJ would change the traffic laws so you could make left turns people would enjoy it more.  I know I would.  I learned how to pull out into heavy traffic recently, and someone showed Cherry Pie and me their tall finger.  I've heard that happens very often here so I'm thinking that's the state hand symbol, kinda like state trees or state flowers or something.  I guess that's their way of saying NJ is #1?  I don't let it bother me though because I can expressively stick my tongue out, right back at them. Then I try to figure out where I'm going.   Cherry Pie and I get lost pretty often, but somehow we always find our way to where we're supposed to be... sometimes with the help of OnStar or frantic phone calls to the husband.
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So this is Cherry Pie.  I think she's cute. Her candy apple red paint has little sparklies in it.  She has a sun-roof and beige leather interior.  And did you know that I don't have to pump gas in NJ?  All gas stations have nice Arab men who do it for you, like I guess it's a law up here.  Awesome law.

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The inside of Cherry Pie.

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Ok, one last pic of SC beautifulness.  This is how those juicy, delicious peaches begin.  I miss 'em!!!