embrace the camera: march 31st

Now I know what you're thinking:

CHEATER.

Embrace the camera is supposed to be a picture that includes yourself, the author of the blog.

But I'm there.  See me?  The one on the left sporting the UNCW tee.

It might not be my best shot but an important one nonetheless.

Besides the fact that we're eating at the coffee table and our etiquette is out the window,

we're in the midst of our Croatian mealtime prayer.

It's one of my favorite moments of the day every day.

It's a time when I can say the most consecutive Croatian words in a row that I know that make sense.

It's a time when the television is off and all I can hear is my husband and I praying to God.

It's a time when I can smell the fresh meal we just cooked and I know I'm about to dig in.

It's a time to be thankful.

It's a time when I can sit really close to Joe and rub my thigh against his and wink at him ever so slyly.

For more thigh-rubbing and eye-winking, head over to The Anderson Crew.

Risotto Queen

I didn't know if any of y'all knew but ... my alias is actually Melody.

Because my real God-intended name is Risotto Queen.

At least that's what I call myself as I'm stirring this arborio rice treat.

It takes skills, believe me.  And time.  And biceps.

It's constantly stirring ladles of warmed chicken broth into a pan of the rice mixture for up to an hour.

There's no 'just add 4 cups of water to 1 cup of rice' easy stuff.

It's much more labor-intensive than that.  And I have mastered it.

The best feeling in the world is to say, 'I'm making risotto tonight.'

And to have my family (Joe) release a big, 'YES!'

It's nice knowing that one of my dishes is one of his favorites. 

Nothing

And today's Croatian Word of the Day:  ništa 

(nEE-shta)

Which perfectly describes our weekend last.

After realizing that last weekend was our FIRST weekend this year where we had no agenda we realized exactly what our agenda would be.  A little something called ništa, otherwise known as nothing.

We did nothing and yet everything.

We laid on the couch.

We ate sherbert on the couch.

We ate breakfast on the couch.

We napped on the couch.

We read on the couch.

We surfed the web on the couch.

We ate lunch on the couch.

We watched movies on the couch.

We ate lunch while we watched movies on the couch.

We did get up Sunday morning to go to church.

Then it was right back home to resume our schedule.

It was bliss.

Heaven.

Whoever said nothing is impossible?

Nothing is DEFINITELY possible.  Joe & I proved that this weekend.

Cherry Blossoms

Growing up two hours from Washington D.C. was always a treat for me.  The number of field trips I've been on to go explore our nation's capital were endless.  I hit up every monument at least a dozen times going through elementary school.  Then once I got to high school the trips were a little more intensive and focused.  There was the Holocaust Memorial Museum with the German Club.  And the Smithsonian for Chemistry.  The Washington D.C. Zoo for Biology.   And the White House for History.  The list goes on and on. 

Along for those dozens of D.C. trips was my mother.  She was a steadfast.  At the end of my thirteen years of pre-college education I think she could draw a tourist map of the area with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back.  She was older and more mature than me and never took one museum or monument for granted.  She was always busy trying to get me to appreciate this aspect of my childhood.  I was busy thumbing through my notebook for a blank piece of paper to write my boyfriend (who didn't get to come on the trip) a letter of how much I had missed him that day and how these field trips to D.C. get SO OLD.

Even though I was usually busy crushing on some boy or making jokes with my friends, every trip was unique and exciting for me in its own way.  However, there was always one that stood out more than the rest.  It didn't involve an entrance fee or getting your hand stamped though.  It was something more.

My mother's birthday falls at the end of March which coincidentally is when the cherry blossoms start to bloom on the National Mall where the Washington Monument lays down its shadow.  One year while we still lived up north my mother decided that the only thing she wanted to do to celebrate was take the train into D.C. and lunch picnic-style beneath the cherry blossoms.  

As a teenager I thought, "EASY ENOUGH FOR ME."

Little did I know it would be one of the most memorable trips to Washington I would ever make.  The Mall was jam-packed with people as usual that day.  Dogs bombarded us wanting to get a free pet on the back.  Frisbees zoomed by barely missing us.  There was kiteflying galore.  You could hear the hot dog carts ringing their bells and the nonstop car traffic that is a city.  There was noise everywhere.  But even with all of the commotion going on around me I still remember it as one of the most peaceful moments of my life.  It was just my mom and I enjoying each others company for hours.  We were chatting and laughing, probably talking prom dresses or what my first car should be.  There was no anxiety.  All was right with the world it seemed.  I can remember being in the moment and never wanting it to end.  It's still a moment I wish I could relive over a thousand times more. 

I may not remember how many bones the T-REX at the Smithsonian has or the exact quote the plague that sits below Lincoln says but I will never forget the smell of those cherry blossom trees that day and the sight of my mother resting beneath them.

embrace the camera: march 24th

As Emily says, too often us bloggers are behind the lens ... rather than in front of it.  

We're always trying to capture life's moments through our cameras and keep them safe in our blogs.

Embracing the camera is about putting ourselves first for a day.

And showing our own pearly whites in a picture for a change.

Here I am embracing the camera with my sweetie AND embracing my computer.

Do I get double points for that?!

See what else Emily is saying and doing over at The Anderson Crew.

Get Your Sunglasses Out

The summer weather is upon us down South.  It's time for the beach and all that comes with it.

Meeting Dana, Robin, and Miss Ella for lunch yesterday, Ella hopped out of the car exclaiming,

"AUNT MEL.  I got NEW SUNGLASSES!"

And sure enough she did.  New pink Jackie-O sunglasses adorned her face along with a priceless smile full of confidence and glee.  Turns out spring fever effects everyone, even toddlers.

We picked a table outside (of course) to take in the beautiful 70 degree weather of the day.  Robin started to explain that her and Ella had just been bathing suit shopping.  They had picked out a stunning pink get-up to match Ella's new pink sunglasses.  Ella was vigorously shaking her head yes in agreement with Robin.  Her big blues so full of joy.

After lunch, back at work and working diligently (of course) I caught a glimpse of my Lifestream feeder.  Robin had uploaded a new photo, worthy of being published in the next GAP Kids catalog, of Ella decked out in her new summer wear.

Three words: Ella. Is. Ready.

get it, girl.

Joseph

Joseph.

Or as I like to call him, Josip. (in Croatian, pronounced Yo-sIp)

It was St. Joseph's Day on Saturday.  Meaning it was Joseph's Name Day in the Catholic World.

I've always thought that Joe's name fit him perfectly and his saint fit him even more perfectly.  

Here's why:

St. Joseph was the earthly father of Jesus so he must've been an awesome dad for God to pick him. 

Joe is awesome with kids.

St. Joseph was one of the best known carpenters of all time and history and a very hard worker.

Have you seen my blog posts on Joe's handy work?!

All of the pictures of St. Joseph have him with a wicked good beard.

Joe loves his facial hair, too.

Did you ...?  I think I heard ...?  What's that ...?  Yes ... it's the beginning of a photo montage ...

Easter Eggs

When Joe & I go away for a few days I tend to 'hide' our valuables amongst the house.  A nice necklace goes underneath a random couch cushion.  Our video camera gets stashed behind the third red book on the second shelf down from the top of our bookshelf. (Obviously these are fake items and fake places I've invented to get my point across.  I would NEVER divulge my true hiding places.  I'm not stupid.)  We don't live in a bad neighborhood or anything.  I've never been robbed in my life.  It must come from some sort of internal survival instinct.

Either way before we leave the house Joe, making fun of me, always says, 'Did you get your Easter Eggs hidden?'

With a proud smile on my face, 'YEP!'

Sometimes I think it must be the fact that I was an only child most of my life.  It was tough for me to share and I was always of the mindset, MINE NOT YOURS.  If someone even eyed my things (favorite toy or not) savage mode instantly kicked in and I was a force to be reckoned with.  I would actually hate to see if I walked into my house in the midst of a burglary.  Picture the Incredible Hulk ripping his shirt off, fists poised, and a snarl across his face. That would definitely be me.

Last Friday when the tsunami dampened Japan, we were packing up for Bald  Head Island.  As I was hiding my Easter Eggs before we left the house I started to think about all of the objects in my hands and what worth they brought to me.  Everything was of a financial worth.  They were expensive.  They were materialistic.

Why was I putting so much thought and purpose behind saving these 'worthy' things?  Is that the worth that really counts though?  Is the worth of my THINGS comparable to the worth of me? 

I think not.  Unfortunately too often I'm guilty of becoming consumed with all of these shiny objects I possess and I forget about what really matters.    Our worth is not based on the money we make or the things we own.  Our worth lies in the decisions we make.  It is a direct result of the way we react to circumstances we're faced with.

As always is the case it usually takes the witnessing of a tragedy to refocus our priorities.  The crisis in Japan should lay heavy on our hearts.  These are our fellow man.  We should pray, we should think, and we should do.  We should love and spread compassion at the very least.

Our worth is not in the things we own ... it's what's in here (pointing to my heart).

embrace the camera: march 17

It's the luck o' the Irish that I ended up with this Croatian stud.

I think?!!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone.

Hope yours is as exciting as ours!

(YAWN.)

For more exciting, less yawn-filled posts hook up with The Anderson Crew.

Rearview Mirror

Driving along today with the sunroof open, windows down,  and Avett Brothers blasting I was feeling good.  I started thinking about my blog and the latest comment my dear friend Shauna had posted with the slight hint suggesting Joe & I get to gettin' in the baby-making department.  

Even without Shauna's nudge-nudge-wink-wink having a baby is on my mind more often than not these days.  And thanks to one of my coworkers being pregnant I actually get to talk baby talk pretty often too.  

Then I looked up into my rearview mirror and sort of pretended for a split second that I was looking for my baby in his car seat in the backseat.  Cute blonde hair and big blue eyes like his mother.  Perfectly bronzed skin like his father.  The wind from the open windows was whipping through his hair and he was smiling at me through the mirror.

Then I got a little embarrassed.  I was totally just looking for my make-believe baby. 

Is that WEIRD?!

A Lovely Weekend

It was another lovely weekend on Bald Head Island.

I've written many times about BHI, a remote destination that is uber peaceful and relaxing.  One of my favorite perks of the island is that no cars are allowed; only golf carts.  There are miles of empty beach.  They have the cutest food market and quaint coffee shop.  There's a lighthouse and a turtle conservatory and nature walks and ... ummm ... that's about it.  No pressure to go do this and that; no pressure to catch this movie or make that restaurant reservation.  Just peace and quiet.

As always we spent the weekend with the Wheless' out on the island.  We would have it no other way.  I was too busy doing nothing and totally missed taking any pictures.  Luckily Aunt Caroline is more on top of her game than I.  Here are some of my fave moments from this weekend.

 

embrace the camera: march 10th

I've been following Emily's blog, The Anderson Crew, for several months now.  You can find her blog button on my right-hand nav.  She's fun.  She's witty.  She writes well.  Oh, and she has super cool style.

Emily promotes embracing the camera every Thursday and encourages everyone to post a snapshot as well.  This is my first go 'round and hopefully not my last.    

Since today is my BFF's birthday it was only appropriate to post a picture of her and I at our finest.  I'm pretty sure this is the most recent picture taken of us.  Besides a little run-in at the Charlotte airport last December, we haven't seen each other since this fun-filled weekend in Charleston, SC in September 2010.  Faye lives west coast and I'm an east coast-er so snapshots together are few and far between.  But I think that makes them more unique and more special.  Here's wishing FAYE a very happy birthday!!   

Ash Wednesday

To continue on from yesterday with our Catholic studies, today marks the beginning of Lent otherwise known as Ash Wednesday.  Lent is a Catholic tradition dedicated to remembering Jesus' sacrifice for us wherein we honor Him by making our own sacrifice for 40 days (now through Easter).  The 40 days represents the time Jesus spent in the desert before the beginning of his public ministry where he was tempted by Satan which should reflect the temptation we will face through our sacrifice during Lent.

(I'm totally being a Catholic show-off.)

Loads of people (even non-Catholics) make a little game out of Lent.  Trying to give up something habitual for over a month can be pretty difficult.  And it's always fun to keep track of the caffeine addict in the office who gave up coffee for Lent by clearing your throat every time you see their eyes wonder to the Starbucks across the street.  It's like Survivor but with no immunity idol.

I have been thinking about my sacrifice for WEEKS.  What should I give up for Lent?  I thought of giving up television.  I thought of giving up eating out at restaurants for lunch and/or dinner.  I thought of doing without coffee, soda, etc. but nothing seemed extreme enough.  I couldn't think of a single thing that was worthy of Lent.  I became pretty frustrated with the idea and started asking around for suggestions.  I still came up empty-handed.

Eventually time ran up and I had to pick something.  Last weekend at the mountains I happened to drink like 5 sodas (way more than I would  normally drink in a weekend) and decided that would be my sacrifice.  It was a weak call but I had nothing else.

I went into today a little half-hearted.  It was the beginning of Lent and I was giving up soda?  Stupid.  So as I was doing my usual blog browsing this morning I came across this:

And that's when it hit me.  My sacrifice should be to give up WORRYING.  Put the joking, happy-go-lucky part of me to the side and I am a TOTAL worry wart.  In fact that's what my grandmother used to call me.  She even gave me this shiny, blue pebble that I was supposed to hold in the palm of my hand whenever I worried and it was supposed to stop the anxiety.  It never really worked but it was worth a shot.  I can remember from a young age getting constant butterflies in my stomach because I was worried about a test that day or the game that night.  Nowadays the subjects of stress are a little more serious like mortgage payments and starting a family.  It's the same butterflies though.

When I saw this little note a light bulb went off in my head.  And when that happens I get super excited because it's like striking gold.  I'm a big believer in doing what feels right.  So I decided to give up soda AND worrying this Lent.  But then I got to thinking ...

How does one give up worrying?

It's just an inanimate object.  Giving up worrying is so NOT black and white.  It's all in between the lines.  How do you give up an emotion?  It's not like giving up coffee.  That's easy ... don't drink it.  Can I give up worrying?  Can I make myself not worry?  Can I keep up with that?  

Then I realized I was totally worrying about not being able to give up worrying.  

Hilarious.  Maybe I should give up irony for Lent?

Fat Tuesday

Today is Fat Tuesday, the last HURRAH before Lent begins tomorrow.  And because I'm a newly confirmed Catholic and constantly trying to sharpen my Catholic SkillZ, I wanted to celebrate in style.

And by style I mean jambalaya, an amazing concoction of chicken, shrimp, and sausages melded together with hot sauce, red pepper, cumin, and loads of other spices to give you that extra KICK into Ash Wednesday.  I totally went New Orleans-style for dinner minus the loud music, beads, and parades.

Side note, please note the white cloud of sticky rice heaven piled high in the middle of the dish.  This is my new obsession.  It's sushi rice and is super plump and sticky and delicious.  I discovered it last week when I decided to have Asian Supper Week at home.  Believe it or not, I actually have Chinese relatives who introduced me to many Asian dishes when I was growing up.  Last week I decided to tap back into those childhood memories and explore Asian cuisine again and that's when I discovered sushi rice in all it's stickiness glory.  Please try it.  It's amazing.

So yeah, now that my sporadic thoughts have covered Catholic traditions, sticky rice, and my married-into Asian heritage I think I'll quit while I'm ahead.  At least I like to think I'm ahead.  Tune in tomorrow when my train of thought carries us through the joys of carpet cleaning and leads to how I feel about buying brown eggs versus white eggs.  (That was a joke.)

She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain

This weekend Joe &I found ourselves driving west to the mountains of North Carolina.  Well ... technically ... it was Virginia ... but who's keeping score?

I have a friend who dates this guy whose family has a vacation home high in the hills where we stayed for the weekend.  (Who do I send the thank-you note to?)  It is definitely what you would call 'in the sticks.'  Once off the main highway you drive through a quaint little town until you reach the Jottem-Down Store on the left.  I have no idea what 'Jottem-Down' means.  All I know is what I read on the sign.  Once you make that left there's many hills and turns.  Over the river and through the woods ... make a right at the 'BIG COW' onto Marion Road which I wouldn't really clarify as a road.  It's more of a two mile dirt path that leads right to the gate that leads to the yard of our mountain getaway where I only had one bar of cell phone service which I loved.  No pressure, no problems.

Saturday we woke up at 10am.  Not my typical routine but hours of S'mores and wine the night before led to a late start the next day.  Even though there was a light drizzle we geared up to do a little hiking.  We roamed the land taking in the sights, sounds, and smells that the forest had to offer.  We wandered down to this creek and endlessly threw a stick into the water for Sampson, the dog.  That boy loves to retrieve.

Then ... HARK!  What do I spy?  An amazing 2 story log cabin built right into the side of the mountain overlooking the creek.  In the middle of nowhere.  And what do we have here ... the cutest old man out on the porch chopping wood with a saw.  After further investigation and a very hospitable invite inside, we learned that this entire house had been built by this old man with the help of his even cuter wife.  The entire foundation of the house was built on river rock from the very creek Sampson was just frolicking in.  They had gone into this river and picked each stone out one by one and laid them side by side.  There were HUNDREDS.

All of the wooden shingles on the outside of the house were hand constructed by the old man.  Everything inside too.  The cabinets, the walls, THE BEDS ... all made out of wood and by his own hands.  It was so amazing.  So impressive.  The quilt they slept with at night was sewn by the wife.  Their clay pot mixing bowls ... spun by the wife on her pottery wheel.  It was something out of a storybook.  I wanted to knock on the door and ask for some porridge until I remembered how that story ends.  Anyway ... they had put so much time into this home.   Years.  So much labor.  So much sweat.  So much HEART.

Looking around I was speechless yet couldn't stop blubbering like a fool to this old couple.  I knew they had a secret to life that I had to find out about.  For a girl that can barely find the breath, energy, or time to make my own bed in the morning let alone build my own house, this place was nothing short of a miracle.  I felt like I was in a dream and needed some sort of evidence to prove to myself that I had really been there and seen it and touched it.  All I could think was, 'I want to take a picture.'  And I probably would have taken a picture if I hadn't forgotten my camera.  But truthfully I almost enjoyed leaving this piece of heaven how I had found it.  No interruption by the outside world.  I wanted to leave it a secret.  Except now I'm totally blabbing about it on here ... whoops.  But I couldn't explain to you how to get there anyway.  Unless you're familiar with the whereabouts of the Jottem-Down Store and the BIG COW.

Pendant Lights

My friend, Dana and I have this joke.  It goes like this.

'Look at these great new pillows I just got. (pause) Oh my goodness, now the rug doesn't match.'

($100 later)

'Look at this great new rug I got to match the pillows. (pause) You know what would go great in here, a new ceiling fan to accent the brown colors in the new pillows and rug.'

($250 later)

'Look at this gorgeous fan I got for a steal at Home Depot.  It really brings out the brown in the new pillows and rug I got. (pause) Wait, wouldn't tearing down this wall bring in so much more light to really accent the brown in the pillows and the rug and the fan?!!'

You get the idea.  One thing leads to another which leads to another which leads to another.  Long story short, a domesticated housewife's decorating responsibilities never let up.  We must keep on keepin' on.  It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it ... and somebody else has to pay the Pier One bill. (wink)

So at our house we have this amazingly big counter top in our kitchen.  It's great for rolling out pies, making fresh pasta, and just about anything else you want to do that requires a lot of space.  (Sometimes I pretend I'm on Top Chef Finals and only have 35 minutes to make the best meal of my life in hopes of winning that free trip to Croatia and $30,000.)  You get the idea, it's a nice space.  For some time I had been wanting to get bar stools for the area.  Why only limit the counter to cooking?  Let's expand our horizons and eat at the counter, use our laptop at the counter, use the counter as a landing pad for our remote control helicopter (don't ask ... that's a whole 'nother post).  Anyway, that's when I found these cheap white saddle stools that fit perfectly in our little space.

(This is where Dana & I's joke comes in.)

Looking at our great additions I thought to myself, 'These new stools look great. (pause) You know what else would go great in here ... PENDANT LIGHTS!'

And that brings us to Valentine's Day 2011.  Knowing my domesticated housewife decorating wheels were in fifth gear, Joe stepped up and took the reigns on installation and gave me pendant lights as a Valentine's gift.  All I had to do was pick out the light shades and get him a very nice North Face jacket in return.  Everyone wins.

Look at how well the new stools and pendant lights really add to the space. (pause)  You know what else would look good in there ... ?! 

Cars

I've had 4 cars in my life.

First there was NEON DEON.  She was a red 1996 Doge Neon with grey bumpers, good for knocking those pesky roadkill out of the way on the old country roads I grew up on.  She was lightning fast compared to the 1982 Monte Carlo I got hauled around in before I turned 16.  She was my first love.

Then came Jetta Cheese.  A 2001 mean green Volkswagen Jetta machine that moved me and all my belongings from PA to NC, one of the biggest moves in my life.  She was steadfast carrying me and my 15 friends to and from the beach every day.  She was sold right before my move to England.

Next was Rhonda the Honda.  I was a few weeks from coming home from abroad and I told my dad to pick something out for me.  My only two requests: 4-door and NO SPOILER.  So my dad gets a white 2-door 1999 Honda Accord with a super-sporty spoiler.  Go figure.

Rhonda lasted several years before she left me stranded in a very busy intersection in Wilmington one morning on the way to work.  I vowed never to drive her again.  She had let me down.

Enter BIM.  She's my new ride as of a year ago.  She's a black 2003 BMW X5 and I love her style, class, and energy.  She's energetic like me.  She's hip like me.  And she's far from humble ... just like me.  We fit well together.  

Thinking about the 4 loves of my car world today I realized that Bim is by far the HARDEST one to keep clean.  Her black on black butter exterior shows every bit of dust, pollen, dirt, etc.  I'll clean her to pretty and bright and within a day or two she's a complete eyesore.  And if you know me, I like things clean.

(Hang in there.  I have a point to all of this, I swear.) 

So thinking about dirt and cars today on my way back to work from lunch I got to thinking about Pappy Dearest.  He's the sweetest man that loves himself a clean car.  

Growing up, every Sunday after church he would BLAST gospel tunes on the garage radio and clean all the cars.  Nanny's car. His work truck.  The van.  My car.  He took such pride in his work.  It must be where I got it from.  And still to this day when I make my 8 hour trek home to visit PA, the first morning I wake up in my old bed and look over at my old alarm clock I always know that the second I take back those lace curtains and peer out to the backyard there will be my Pappy cleaning my car.  And he'll look up and smile.  And I'll turn, looking for my sandals, and make my way outside to be with him.