10 Things Thankful, and a bit of self-forgiveness

Hayden snapped this photo at Bennett’s Real Smoke Barbecue Pit in Gatlinburg. We celebrated a season with a rack of ribs and a pint of homebrew. (This class mysteriously disappeared from our table, however.)

The toughest person to forgive is often ourselves.

I’ve two Go Ask Daddy posts unpublished. Crazy, huh? If I can’t finish on my self-imposed deadline, I won’t publish. I’ll save them. I’m holding my blog hostage. I force myself to finish freelance work (veggies) before I get to blogging (snickerdoodle cookies.)

Heard of the Pomodoro timer?

I’m using that too. I’m rewarding myself for hours of distraction-free work with writing for fun. It keeps me hungry (not for snickerdoodles, although …) to put in the work to get to what feeds my soul most.

Advertisements

Go Ask Daddy about thrills, bling and perils to the family jewels

You know how some things go really well together?

Like, my mouth and enchiladas, for instance. (Why must it always be about food?) Every Friday, I write the Go Ask Daddy post. It’s five questions, picked at random, from a list of nearly 300 that my girls ask through the course of a day.

Lots of my blog friends write their gratitude posts on Fridays.

I’m grateful, too. Just because I spend the day answering questions about Jimmy Hendrix, finances and firefighters, it doesn’t mean I’m not eternally grateful for lots of stuff. In fact, I’ve started a gratitude journal, and it’s got stuff in it.

Guest post: Josie, of Family Afloat, on their sailing adventures

I love to travel.

And by travel, I mean drive several times a week to Mooresville, N.C. Occasionally exotic locales, too, such as Fredericksburg, Va. The extent of my travel reaches the bounds of club soccer. And I’m okay with that.

If I get a dose of wanderlust, well, that’s what Instagram and Hawaii 5-0 reruns are for.

Or, I can visit the blog Family Afloat. That’s where Josie chronicles the adventures of a family living at sea. Great story, right? Well, only it’s nonfiction. These people really are sailing around the world.

7 days, 7 photos – Day 4

“Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day.”

Thanks, Sandra, for the challenge 🙂.

Today, I’d like to nominate Charissa, of Joy in the Moments.

The other entries:

7 days, 7 photos – Day 1

7 days, 7 photos – Day 2

7 days, 7 photos – Day 3

# # #

 

# # #

7 days, 7 photos – Day 3

“Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day.”

Thanks, Sandra, for the challenge 🙂.

Today, I’d like to nominate April, of Airing My Laundry, One Post at a Time.

The other entries:

7 days, 7 photos – Day 1

7 days, 7 photos – Day 2

# # #

7 days, 7 photos – Day 2

“Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day.”

Thanks, Sandra, for the challenge 🙂.

Today, I’d like to nominate Michelle of The Complete Savorist.

# # #

 

 

7 days, 7 photos – Day 1

“Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people. No explanation. Challenge someone new each day.”

Thanks, Sandra, for the challenge 🙂.

Today, I’d like to nominate Court, from Baking in My Bathing Suit.

 

Go Ask Daddy about Floridian Rides, Martian Colonization and science stuff that has to do with eardrums

It’s time this girl got a name.

Here, finally, is a photo of my new Hyundai. It’s strange, but Gabi still inhabits our street, an empty vessel full of fond memories and great escapes. The item put Pontiac on Craigslist has burned a hole in my to-do list.

My preliminary pick for the new car’s name: Yuliana.

(I know no Yulianas. Gabi got her name from my friend, Stacey. Gabi’s touch-and-go status in the auto shop necessitated a few prayers and vexes. Stacey felt if a car had a name, maybe she’d be more apt to capture the well wishes.)

Go ask daddy about driving rules, alcohol in the kitchen and illegal football moves

Inspecting the elephants at our Airbnb haunts in Fredericksburg.

I couldn’t wait to get my permit.

I was just a dumb kid in Colorado with the delusion that acquiring my permit would automatically result in:

1) Getting a brand-new Pontiac Fiero;

2) Driving my butt from Greeley, Colo., to Seattle

3) Actually making it back home.

How could I forget? I was also going to pick up my cousin, Raquel, in San Francisco. All this, before I’d even learned to parallel park. But I was ready. Kids these days? They’re not so ready. Why be ready to drive, when you parental Uber toting you around?

I’m okay with this.

I pray it won’t take me this long to pray again

Just outside the Fredericksburg Cemetery.

Hayden and I talked fantasy football while I fixed her scrambled eggs Sunday morning.

I know, you’re not supposed to talk fantasy football. Maybe it’s okay with the people you play with? Anyway, Marcus Mariota, you see. He’s projected for mad points this week, but is questionable for the game Monday. Should I stick with him?

I prayed about it last night I told Hayden.

I actually hadn’t. On two other occasions, I’ve prayed for trivial things (that didn’t feel trivial in the moment) only to see them granted. I tried to remember the last time I did actually pray. It might have been in acid-washed jeans.