10 Things You May Not Know About (My) Life In Virginia

1) My mom instilled in me a love for actual physical mail.  Snail mail is what we call it now.  This card awaited me in the mailbox on Saturday morning.  SO well-timed and fitting to several situations milling about in my life right about now.  In this vein, I set a goal to send 3 pieces of personal mail a week to my people.  This past week, one of my mailings caused water to leak from someone's eyes.  (This was her husband's expression; she flat out stated on Facebook that I made her cry.)  Fist pump for me!

2)  I unearthed a bargain frame in mint condition for my free 16x20 enlargement from Shutterfly of the above photo.  When my eldest daughter's June wedding comes to mind, I can't help but smile at how utterly fantastic a shindig it was . . . even if I do say so myself.  My friends and my big sis and her husband rescued me from an endeavor which threatened to engulf me in it's final scope and execution.  And the sheer happiness of the bride and groom was reward enough to make even my 2nd degree burn worth the pain and grossness.  My three children, those delightful and challenging fruit of my womb, all came together under one celebratory and lit-up roof: my girls so thrilled to share space in the same city after two years, my son deeply happy to appreciate TWO brothers-in-law.  WHAT. A. DAY.  I miss my girls.  This pic hangs above the television in the bedroom my hubby and I share at our friend's beautiful home.  Whenever I look at it, I feel like the gang's all here.

3)  Because my son was injured on the job in Tennessee, his Navy plans were put on hold AND he was forced to make the trip to Virginia with his mama (he loves to yell out for me with a bit of a Southern lilt in his voice, "Ma-MA!) and dad.  With no friends and no job, collecting a bit of unemployment at an awfully young age, waiting for his knee and hip to heal enough to allow for the physical activity and freedom most young men crave and need, his main source of company -- outside of Hankie Mutt and Gracie Helen and the television -- is moi.  Not really the dream scenario for a boy fresh outta high school, on the cusp of young adulthood and all of the discovery therein!  But somewhere in all of that, we've managed to discover fun and repair a portion of the distance between us that wriggled it's way in last year.  I'm so-o-o good with that!  (Though he doesn't like the goofy black and white pic I included, it's here because I think he rather strongly resembles me in the shot.  Do you see it?)

4)  The phrase 'partners-in-crime' has taken on new meaning for me.  And, 'like father, like son.'  I could probably name a few others if I searched my brain, but why?  Methinks those two express it all.  Have you ever been teased in stereo?  I can't win!  There's no extra girl to tip the balance in my favor these days . . . and OH! are these men reveling in their power.  And the boy has taken his dad out for golf and dinner and a movie over the past couple of weeks.  Though the mom in me would prefer to see him save his meager bucks, there are worse ways to fritter away one's earnings.  In some ways, his injury was the best thing to happen to us.  ALL of us.  We're building memories.  When his inevitable departure from the nest becomes a reality, our brief but glorious days here will sustain us.  

  

5)  Until I'm able to facilitate an actual visit to the island country of New Zealand, where mountains, coasts, plains and rain forest all manage to coexist in incredibly gorgeous harmony, I've enjoyed testing the fruit of its fertile soil on an almost nightly basis.  To be fair to California, Oregon, Washington, South America and Italy, I've also sampled their vineyard offerings.  Unlike Tennessee, where grocery stores are still pushing the idea, food stores here sell quite decent -- sometimes impressive -- selections of reds, whites and sparklers.  Coffee for the morning; vino for the evenings; and herbal teas in between.  My beverage routine.  Water intake is implied.  

 

6)  Searching for a new-to-us home after 10 years of deeply rooted living on good ol' Marilyn Court in Murfreesboro has me compulsively flipping between the HGTV and DIY networks.  Any programming covering subjects as varied as buying and selling to renovation has me practically entranced. Two shows feature folks who apply their talents and passion to rundown houses in their hometowns in an effort to bring life, beauty and function back to neighborhoods, one address and new owner at a time.  They're my faves.  Especially the husband and wife team of Joanna "Jo-Jo" and Chip Gaines.  Besides their obvious knack for knowing how to transform a house into an incredible home, the chemistry and cuteness between them is infectious: I simply can't get enough!  When the homeowners make a decision and then, in the final minutes of the show, reap the rewards of their choices, I often cry with joy for them. And contemplate the joy I'll experience when we are once again settled and spreading our roots into the land and community where we will be planted.  Never have I felt such a deep yearning for a home.  And with MY history, that's saying something!

 7)  I'm in love.  With a house.  And I'm trying desperately NOT to be.  But it seems that I can't help myself.  Circa 1991.  Great bones.  Fantastic open floor plan.  Fabulous outdoor living spaces.  2 acres of well-appointed flora and fauna.  A pool!  Oh, and did I happen to mention that it's a fixer upper?!  THAT wasn't in our plans.  And there's yet our home of a decade which needs to draw the next right owner to its door, much the way it did us. (Maybe my brother-in-law needs to call someone or send them an e-mail?  That's how we found our corner of suburban heaven in Murfreesboro.)  Even my husband and son say that every time we walk into that airy great room with it's stone wall and solid wood mantle over the double fireplace they feel the familiarity of the place.  It puts a smile on their faces.  All I can do is hope we are the buyers meant to snatch it up at a bargain bank repo price . . . In the meantime, I visit every week.  And there's a Pinterest file filled with ideas and plans for an evolving 2-year renovation plan to return this gem-in-the-rough on Three Bridges Road to it's former glory.  What's wrong with dreaming?

 

8)  While I continue to enjoy my cold brew coffee each and every day (except when I forget to start a new batch before my previous batch empties), I can't say that there's a truly nifty coffee shop here in our neck of the woods in the surrounding area of Richmond.  Though there's a strong possibility of discovery within Richmond -- Zachary and I have yet to venture there -- I doubt the chances of finding a primo java joint will improve when we move into our country place.  'Just Love Coffee' really fit my whole bean needs and creative beverage cravings in the 'Boro.  And 'JoZoara's' offered a tasty cold brew soy latte that satisfied!  On my list of "things I'll miss about my Tennessee life," it appears the perfect cuppa joe ranks right up there.  Anyone need a Christmas List suggestion?  (hint, hint)

9)  The family mutts seem to have suffered absolutely no ill effects from their out-of-state move.  Perhaps their early experiences with homelessness and transplanting (Hankie Mutt) and long-distance travel as a tender pup (Gracie Helen) primed the dynamic canine duo for their adventure.  Whatever the reason, they play hard, eat heartily and sleep better than any of the humans in the house!

 

10)  There are those days when I so painfully miss my Tennessee life, especially my homies, my beloved folks, both friends and family, that I focus sharply on the small things.  The taken-for-granted things.  The everyday things.  The thrift shop refurbish buys.  The daily workings of the human digestive system.  The seasonal changes of the unknown flowers in this yard here.  And I remember the promises and plans of my Holy Father, which never return void.