Spicy Magnolia

An Odd Pumpkin Tale

There are five Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrappers sprawled out next to me on the couch. Evidence that the kids scored big time during their trick-or-treating last Wednesday and proof that I need to get the candy out of this house! I had such lofty plans of donating our leftover candy for homeless Christmas gifts or to send to troops. But since I haven’t had made time for that yet, I might just have to pull an emergency intervention and send the candy with Matt for the Dell break room.

May I introduce you to Spider Man and a beautiful flower that was hand-picked from our garden? It’s still in the mid-80s here in Texas, so it is conceivable to have such blooming beauties.

That pumpkin with no name has one snazzy smile. It is no longer with us after it succumbed to mold, bugs, and whatever other awful infestation occurs after being hollowed. But for the few days that it was with us, it made us smile that same crooked smile.

Our “no name” pumpkin likely originated in some large Texas field where it was privy to some of the strongest rays of sunlight to make it grow big and strong. Somewhere along the way, it managed to get a minor injury: it was flat-faced. But in the big scheme of pumpkin life, that ain’t too shabby. It was the cream of the crop for our little family when we picked it special out of the pumpkin patch.

In the third grade, I wrote a short story called “The Sad Pumpkin” that was about a pumpkin discarded in the junk yard after never being picked at a store and “almost killed by a dump truck”. It was left to rot in the garbage dump alone. (It had a happy ending, but that’s not relevant for the moment.)

Still impacted by the memory of that story, we brought a few smaller pumpkin friends home with the “no name” pumpkin so he wouldn’t get lonely. Of his own choosing, Brennan wanted to carve a cross out of the tiniest pumpkin. It looks more like a plus sign. But being that it was my first pumpkin to carve on my own, I think it turned out mighty fine.

“No name” pumpkin was spared his innards for another solid day. After that he yielded to the painful yet crowning glory of a pumpkin’s life: the ritual carving. Our “no name” pumpkin was carved by Matt with such precision and care, and had a number of excited kids surrounding it at the time of its demise that it knew it couldn’t get any better than that.

It became a neighborhood ceremony.

But only one little person remained faithful.

On the night of Halloween, we ventured to a retirement home where the kids scored full baskets of candy within ten minutes. I wasn’t prepared for tangible reminders of my Gaga, but what a joy it was to see those precious ones who quickly endeared themselves to my Spider Man and flower.

We bolted home to give out some candy and see our neighborhood buddies, and we had to light our pumpkins, too.

Here they are in all their pumpkin splendor.

Unlike the lonely, sad pumpkin in my third grade story, I hope deep down inside that somewhere in the garbage dump our “no name” pumpkin and our tiny light-bearing cross pumpkin are rotting away together.

We Have Ourselves A Walker

This video was taken a little over a week ago, a couple of days after Kensie Jane took her first steps (at 14.5 months). It's one of my all-time favorite videos. If you can overlook my loud laugh, a few of you who might enjoy it, too <grin>. Kensie still prefers to hold our hands while she walks, but this past weekend at my Momma's, she took off and is feeling much more confident!

 

Kensie walking to Brennan from Meg @ Spicy Magnolia on Vimeo.

Hope y'all have a great week!

Silliness

“Silly Mommy!”

“Silly Daddy!”

These are expressions repeatedly heard around our household, mouthed by an exuberant three-weeks-shy-of-being-three-years-old boy, with a big, sheepish grin on his face. The countenance of this child also shows the slightest hint of pride in his parents who make him laugh, because to a three year old man-child, goofiness is the character trait worth gold.

For better or worse, this silliness comes rather naturally to Matt <grin>, but sometimes it takes a bit of effort for this lady who tends to take life a little too seriously. Rest assured though, Matt is a good mentor, and taking one look at Brennan’s gleaming smiles when I let loose encourages my display of silliness.

Two weekends ago we ventured on a two-hour train ride each way to the small town of Burnet, TX to visit Main Street Bethlehem, an outstanding reenactment of the ancient holy city of Jesus’ birth. It was incredible for a number of reasons, including the fascination and anticipation that Brennan had feasting his eyes on Mary, Joseph, and “baby Jesus”. He wanted to get as close to them as he could and sat in front of their manger scene in wonder. The camel was also a highlight to him. And it goes without saying that the train ride was as well.

The adventure back to Austin commenced at 8 p.m., and with a two-hour train ride ahead of us after a long day, Matt and I favored catching some shut-eye and hoped Brennan would follow our example. Kensington was a given. She was snoozing by the time we were twenty minutes from the platform.

Holding Kensie, Matt stretched his lengthy frame out as much as possible and secured himself a comfortable enough position to rest. With Brennan on my lap scrolling through pictures from the day on my iPhone, I managed to power nap, something I consider a super power of mine.

Upon my eyes awakening and adjusting to the bright, overhead lights, a second wind overtook me and it was laden with silliness. And who but Brennan would be the perfect accompaniment to my scheme? Without disturbing Matt and Kensie too much, Brennan and I belly-laughed capturing the following photo-booth shots (that took me a few attempts to explain to Brennan what we were doing):

It took much coercion to get him to start making a “happy face” after he was enthralled with the “mean face”.

I was one of Brennan’s most favorite people on the planet after that escapade. Never mind I was only one of three with him that fine, brisk night. At the very least, it made the train ride speed on by. But you know as well as I do, that I could have been on that train for forever and a day without it ever pulling into a station. Freeze-framing time is a super power I desperately wish existed. Alas, I’ll have to settle for my power-napping capabilities and a newly discovered, ever-growing knack for silliness, assuredly a super power in the eyes of a child.

Simply trusting,

Lotsa Link Love

Y’all, I have so much to write about and pictures to share! For weeks I have kept a running list of things to blog about and/or links to share. For tonight, I’m gonna go with the random link love. There just might be a few nibbles of interest or encouragement here or there on which you can chew.

There are a number of items that fall under the category of “ordinary significance” that have deeply met my soul’s need for encouragement as it pertains to purpose, importance, and my fear of insignificance. It’s obviously a theme God wants to hone in on at the moment. First up is an excerpt from Lisa Broscious Beamer’s commencement address to Wheaton College, my alma mater. Lisa is most widely known for her book published after 9/11 called Let’s Roll! Ordinary People, Extraordinary Courage (I recommend it highly). Her husband, Todd, died heroically in the September 11 terrorist attacks.

In the latest of edition of Wheaton Magazine, an abridgement of Lisa’s speech was published. I loved the following:

We live in a world teeming with all sorts of opportunities, macro and micro, dramatic and subtle! He (God) asks that we wash the “least of these” in His love. That we proactively look in dark corners and behind closed doors for people who are wounded and abandoned. That we not be ignorant of His children who are poor and hungry. That we act as instruments to restore damaged relationships. That we be unusual in the value we place on each and every soul that He’s created. That we wake up the complacent as we radically care for neighbors and strangers alike. That we bring the Good News of peace and salvation to all layers of humanity.

So, as you wake up tomorrow, don’t be dismayed to find your life turn ordinary soon enough. When you realize that today is kind of similar to yesterday and a bit like tomorrow, ask yourself who is becoming whole again on your watch, what is being healed through your influence, how is God redeeming His creation by way of your life? Your good answers will surely be the mark of significance even in an ordinary life.

Good stuff, huh?

Also along the lines of “ordinary significance” is a post by Rod Dreher called “Steve Jobs or Coach Eric Taylor?” We all know who Steve Jobs is. But for those of you who don’t know who Coach Eric Taylor is, well, he has been a new-found love in my life, thanks to Mac and Julie who introduced me to Friday Night Lights, of which Coach Taylor is the lead character. It was a fabulous television series I devoured. Instilling courage and being an example of availability and trust to those in need, Coach Taylor’s character was a role-model for all of us ordinary folk, making him extraordinary. The post gives a great portrayal of how such lives can have a deep impact.

This post, “This is Your Daughter Speaking”, is incredibly moving and powerful for us parents who wonder if we’re actually making a difference in our children’s lives despite the amount of love, sweat, and tears we sacrifice. It’s a must-read post for any parent, regardless of the part of the journey of parenthood that you’re on, and I’ve bookmarked it (aka “pinned it”) on Pinterest <grin>.

Allrighty then, moving right along: Compassion Bloggers!! They have hit the ground running on another trip, this time to Ecuador. As I type, they are pouring out their hearts through the written word in posts that will be published tonight about their first day. You can follow their publications here. Pick a few to read throughout the week and leave a comment to encourage them. Also, if you’ve ever had an inkling to sponsor a Compassion child but haven’t yet, take a few minutes to read this post of Micha’s. It might just tip you over to that final decision. It’s a pretty amazing story.

This post isn’t going to be refined and polished. I have a number of other get-to items this evening, but my hankering to post at least something was so strong I couldn’t resist. And to give you a glimpse of content forthcoming:

Whatever you set forth to do tonight: dishes, reading, trying desperately to get a child to fall asleep, chillin’ in front of a good TV show, or homework, please know I think of you and wish I could reach through the screen to give you a hug. You are loved.

Simply trusting,

A Perfectly Fall Day Calls for the Perfect Soup

It’s our first perfectly Fall day. Perfect jacket weather. Perfect for a little touch tackle football. Perfect for an aromatic candle to be lit. Perfect hat weather.

Perfect to put our feet up and hunker down with a good book after the kids are tucked in bed. Perfect for hot tea. Classical music perfection. Or in my case, Christmas music perfection. A perfect afternoon to tease the taste buds with a foreshadowing of the loot of candy coming our way (in this instance, a Kit Kat).

And perfect for a nice, warm bowl of soup.

It took me a long time to find a vegetable soup I liked. And this one is just the perfect one for our perfectly Fall day. I like it because it’s true to its name: hearty. And meaty. Of course, if you want a true vegetable soup, simply eliminate the meat. Easy in, easy out. And bonus: it’s also easy to make!

Hearty Vegetable Soup

Courtesy of Desert Treasures by The Junior League of Phoenix

• 1 pound ground chuck or beef
• 1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
• 1 tsp. Worcestershire
• 1/2 TBSP sugar
• 1 TBSP basil
• 1 can (2.5 lbs.) tomatoes
• 1 can (8 oz.) tomato sauce
• 1 1/2 cups potatoes, cubed
• 1/2 cup onion, chopped
• 1 cup celery, chopped
• 1/2 cup fresh parsley, chopped
• 2 cans beef bouillon
• 1 box (10 oz.) frozen mixed vegetables

1. Brown the meat.
2. Add remaining ingredients EXCEPT the frozen vegetables.
3. Simmer one hour.
4. Add frozen vegetables. Cook another hour. Skim fat off top, if necessary.

Serves 8-10

Serve it up with some warm, crusty French or sourdough bread, corn bread, or maybe it’s pumpkin bread you’ll fancy. Do you have a perfect soup for Fall or a favorite side to go with it?

May this find you and yours doing well, whether you already have snow on the ground; or are sitting under a blazing Australian sun as summer commences; or, like us, are finally getting to breath a sigh of relief that you survived the summer and can now enjoy a perfectly good Fall day.

Simply trusting,

Five Great Deals of the Day: Tiny Prints

There might be a few of you who, like me, have already started perusing websites for your upcoming holiday cards. Christmas cards are one of my most favorite things to design, and I already have a draft version going. The first site I always check out: Tiny Prints. 

For each day this week, Tiny Prints is offering a great discount sale on various holiday card products. All sales end at 8 a.m. PT the following day after they begin. Check out their main deals page to get a glimpse of their offers. Maybe you’ll find one that suits what you’re looking for in your cards this year. 

 

This or That

Tonight was a special night of firsts for our little girl. She had her very first Daddy-Daughter date with Matt! I got her dressed up in her Sunday best this morning, knowing the high risk I was taking by putting her dress on eight hours before her date. Poop and spit up have a way of intuitively knowing the most inconvenient time and garment to make a surprise appearance. Selfishly though, I wanted to enjoy my doll in her first smocked dress, courtesy of Mees. She looked beautiful!

Matt pulled up at 5:30 p.m. sharp to sweep his girl away on their date to a park. I noticed a colorful assortment of blossoms in his lap as he drove into the garage. I thought, “Awww, how sweet. He brought me flowers.” But then the light bulb went off in my head, triggering the emotional side of my brain sending waves of affection through my heart, thereby activating my Lacrimal Glands that resulted in eyes filled with tears.

Speaking as a Daddy’s girl showered with love throughout my days, I can attest to how blessed Kensington Jane is that her Daddy brings her flowers, gorgeous flowers, as a gift that will remind her of her treasured-ness. Off the two went to share sweet moments that mark, what will hopefully be, the first of many prized memories shared between just the two of them.

While my man and my girl were out on the town, I had one-on-one time, which I’d been craving, with this boy:

While we munched on our dinner, I started a get-to-know-you game by asking what his favorite was between “this or that”. At 33 months old, these were his answers:

Blue or yellow? Blue

Pizza or hot dogs? Pizza

Baseball or football? Football

What’s your favorite book? Toy Story

What’s your favorite song? With a huge grin, “Michael Buble”. (His I Just Haven’t Met You Yet song)

Throwing or kicking? Kicking

Green or purple? Purple

Cookies or ice cream? Cookies

Swimming or soccer? Swimming

Crayons or markers? Crayons

Paints or stamps? Stamps

Strawberries or blueberries? Blueberries

Ham or turkey? Ham

Chalk or stickers? Stickers

Pumpkin bread or banana bread? Banana Bread (His answer greatly surprised me, so I asked, “Really? Have you even eaten banana bread?” With a chuckle, Brennan responded, “No.”)

Pie or cake? Cake

Dolphin or whale? Whale

Cat or dog? Dog

Tomato or guacamole? Tomato

Carrot or Broccoli? Carrot

What’s your favorite movie? Dolphins (I’m not sure to what he’s referring except that I told him that he and I would be going on a date soon to see a movie about a dolphin <grin>.)

Buzz or Woody? Buzz (To which I breathed a sigh of relief since he’s incessantly calling himself “Buzz” and has a Buzz costume for this weekend.)

Cows or horses? Horses

Kisses or hugs? Kisses

For kicks twenty minutes later, I asked him again, “Kisses or hugs?” The second time around, he answered, “Hugs”, while wrapping his lengthy arms around my torso and gently patting my back with his hands. It’s a good thing he likes both, because he got a good dose of the pair! He was all smiles. And so was his Momma.

Simply trusting,

Bopsy Twins

 

Shenanigans

The clock says 8:15 p.m. The kids are in bed and the house is quiet for the first time since 4:42 a.m. this morning. The past week I’ve taken a stroll down memory lane, which always leaves me in a nostalgic coma, kinda weepy and a lot grateful.

Today, five of the girls I lived with my senior year in college, some of my bestest and lifelong friends, are partying up in Chicago for our ten year college reunion. Ten years. Holy cow! Rather than sit around sulking that I’m not in my favorite city, with some of my favorite peeps, eating some of my favorite pizza, and laughing until my ribs hurt, I thought I’d drag you down memory lane with me.

1999-2000. One of the best years of my life. Did I meet the man of my dreams? Well, sorta yes and sorta no. “Scullz”, as Matt was known among his bunch of nine other guy buddies, was pretty funny and made me laugh a lot. Despite being a great friend, I regularly wished to myself over and over, “I hope he doesn’t like me. I hope he doesn’t like me.” And he didn’t. Not in that kinda way. Yet.

I don’t remember what precipitated it, but I was caught up in a prank war of gargantuan proportions with “Scullz”, my future husband and love of my life. So much so that people began asking each of us individually if we wanted to be more than just pals. The prank wars certainly had a level of flirtation, but I was emphatic about Matt not being the guy for me.

I was the designated house mom to this group of ten fellas who took up residence in a college house called “Graham House”, named after an infamous Wheaton College alum named Billy Graham. I have to chuckle thinking about the house’s namesake, because if Billy Graham stepped foot in that should-have-been-condemned structure, I think he’d want to keel over. More because of the stench, stains, and grotesqueness of its upkeep than the actual edifice. Ten guys under one roof. I’m sure most of you can only imagine. Or maybe you don’t want to; I won’t blame you one bit.

One night, I perpetuated the biggest prank of all by throwing two huge glasses of cold water onto Matt, who went to bed unusually early that night while the rest of us were downstairs hanging out. Granted, I wasn’t thinking about how the ensuing scenario would play out. My adrenaline overtook any rational thought, not giving the slightest forethought as to the awkward state of dress (or lack thereof) that my buddy would have chosen to sleep in that evening. All I knew was that this prank was gonna top all the others.

Those two large glasses of ice water awakened a 6’5” man out of bed so fast as he pursued his trespasser that all I could do was run for my life. Come to find out, the other thing I didn’t consider in this oh-so-great-idea of mine was if this would bring an hibernating grizzly bear out of the man I assumed to not have an ounce of grizzly in him. But he flew at me down the stairs as if that beast was just waiting to be aroused by a foolish twenty year old. I’ve never run so fast in my life, bounding down the stairs two or three at a time, fleeing behind someone I hoped would protect me.

I think Matt took one look at me and realized that I had the girl thing going for me and didn’t lash out (and I can attest to this day that the man doesn’t have one iota of grizzly in him). Thankfully, he was moderately dressed because my cockamamie plan left him half ‘nekked’ in the middle of his living room for dozens of eyes to see. I shudder to think about how catastrophic and compromising it could have turned out to be.

Fast forward several weeks. The wheels were turning in that brain of Scullz’s as he devised a plan of revenge so sweet that it officially ended the prank war because it was the topper. Every so often, I’d get a note in my mail threatening me, warning me of my imminent demise.

After heading up to Wisconsin for a camping trip with a campus ministry I was involved in (whereupon I dropped my keys in the feces filled outhouse pit…that’s a whole other story), I returned back to my apartment and noticed my bag of dirty laundry had disappeared. Kindly thanking my roommate for her thoughtfulness in doing my laundry, she sheepishly replied, “Meg, I didn’t do any of your laundry.” At that, my eyes took a wander at my closet and each of my drawers only to discover that every item of clothing I had at school was gone. All of it!

The only item left behind by such a conniving thief was a hideous, psychedelic, full-length 70s-looking dress that I would never, ever wear of my own accord. On top of it sat a hand-written note saying that I had to wear that dress all day the next day (even to my night class) in order to have my confiscated clothes returned to me. It was dreadful looking. And itchy.

If I had to cave into these ransom demands, I wanted to do it up right. I borrowed a set of platform heels (also something I’ve never since worn), put on thick makeup, painted my toenails, and played the part full on. The shoes ended up being the humdinger; by 10 p.m. that night, my feet were frozen and achy. It was a Chicago winter after all.

Bless him. Looking at this aged picture, Matt looks like a very agreeable sort alongside my outlandish attire <grin>.

While it took me another six months or so to be convinced that there might be something more to this goofy guy than what met my eye, those shenanigans are some of our fondest memories of college and each other. I think both of us are afraid to start up any kind of prank since we’ve been married. At least I am; I know firsthand they can go in a dangerous direction. But I have some time this weekend to muster some courage and brainstorm (I’m all ears, by the way).

Who woulda thunk it? The man who I caused to stand half ‘nekked’ in the middle of his living room drenched in freezing cold water and who left me sans clothes, holding them ransom, is my hubby, the man of my dreams. Oh, the irony.

Favorite Fotos Friday

Beauty.

Last weekend all four of us ventured up to Ft. Worth for my cousin’s wedding. It’s the first time we braved staying in a hotel room with both kiddos. The black circles under my eyes were a dead giveaway as to the late nights we spent partying (ha!) and the outcome of being in a hotel room all together.

Pops came into town for the festive occasion, and he confessed that one of his highlights was getting to hold and walk this girlfriend.

There is a tiny boy on planet earth who is crazy, head-over-heels, in love with his uncle and aunt (who are officially home owners…whoop!!). One of the main reasons we didn’t get any sleep is because this aforementioned boy (who shall remain nameless <grin>) wanted to be up every waking moment to play and/or watch Secretariat with Uncle Mackie and Aunt Joooolie.

All dressed up before the blessed event. The kiddos stayed back and were loved on by Matt’s aunt and cousin who generously watched them for the evening.

I now have two delights who join me in the kitchen while I cook, or in this case, bake pumpkin bread (a timeless treat in our family).

On Wednesday, Matt treated Brennan to a “morning at Daddy’s work”.

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work they go!

Brennan got to meet all of Matt’s “friends”, and who wouldn’t Brennan make his own friend when hot chocolate (also known as “coffee”) and donuts are involved.

Brennan is still chattin’ up a storm about this memorable outing.

Y’all, Matt is going away on a small men’s retreat this weekend, and I have both kiddos to myself. I think a party is in order so I can score some points with these two munchkins I oversee. Maybe a pumpkin patch? Or a soccer game? Some frozen yogurt, burgers and fries? A movie and some football watchin’?

What do y’all like to do when the cat’s away <grin>?

Simply trusting,