Let Me Eat Cake

I have had a slight obsession with Europe since I can remember.

As a kid I cut my meat into morsels with my knife in the right hand and my fork in the left, and then I’d continue to feed myself left-handed. My dad would get on me for not switching my fork to the right hand and then he’d tell me that I ate like Aunt Lynne. Aunt Lynne was my First Class Flight Attendant aunt that lived in Europe multiple times a week. She was chic and different and smelled divine and I knew her eyes had seen things worth seeing. I tucked the knowledge that I instinctively ate like a European into my childhood heart and set Europe on my horizon that very moment.

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Mosaic

I am out of towels. I have thrown them all in. It’s been that kind of a week.

This crummy week has reminded me that marriage is work, kids are work, and that I am a huge piece of work. When life is this much work who could want to play? The silver lining is that at least I don’t have to worry about being perfect anymore.

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Pecan

On the plains of Texas and Oklahoma, where trees are sometimes rare and precious things, there is a tradition that recognizes the responsibility of one generation for the next.

Rural homesteaders, once the house was built, the well dug and the first few crops harvested, would plant their "grandchildren grove." Laboriously, the farmer would read a score or more of seed catalogues and finally select a particular type of pecan tree. It had to be hardy and strong, able to withstand the deep winters and torrid summers of those dry plains. He would make his selection and send off carefully hoarded money.

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Lights Out

Dear Matt,

Before I start with my roundabout apology I'd like to thank you for being born on my 4th birthday, you birthday stealer.

Remember the summer of '98? (Not to be confused with the Summer of '69...neither of us owned a 6-string because we were spirits in heaven that year.) You had just graduated from Rock Bridge and I had just celebrated my first wedding anniversary. I had a super bad haircut. Now do you remember?

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Token

A month ago I thought I deserved a clear, finite, Julian-calendar-specific answer from the Lord about when exactly I would be getting my miracle baby. After all, I'd become the poster child for Failure. I'd had a sparkling attitude towards my mega-adversity. If my calculations were correct, it was time for visions to start rolling in.

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