Weekends With Cheesecake Never Cease to Delight Me

So, Superbowl not withstanding, my weekend was the tops. I utterly enjoyed my dad's birthday trip to Fort Worth, complete with shoe shopping, a movie (with butter popcorn, of course!) and a yummy dinner. The more I hang out with my parents the more I come to realize they truly are my best friends (as well as my sister!). Crazy Heart turned out to be a better movie than I expected. But considering my expectations were low that isn't exactly saying much. Jeff Bridges truly deserves the accolades he has received for portraying Bad Blake. The man can sing! And Collin Farrell, whom I pretty well loathe, was a great singer too. Dinner was fantastic, complete with both cheesecake and carrot cake to finish it off (you can never go wrong with those two desserts).

I also went to Lifeway and picked up Ruth: loss, love and legacy. It's a Living Room Series bible study by Kelly Minter. A superspecial bloggy friend and I are doing this study together, and I can't wait to see what we are going to glean from what has to be my favorite story in the Bible. First off, is that not the cutest cover of a bible study you've ever seen? Seriously, I want those shoes. And that skirt. And maybe even that wallpaper. Supercute in every possible way. I read the introduction on the way to dinner last night and got so excited to get started, I love the way Kelly writes. She has now officially been added to my Who Would You Invite to Dinner hypothetical dinner party guest list. So as of now she would be in the company of Beth Moore, Kay Arthur, Priscilla Shirer, Needtobreathe, Paula Deen, Peyton Manning, Brett Favre, James "Sawyer" Ford (tell me fictitious people are allowed to hypothetical dinner parties?), Juliet Burke (even dead fictitious people), C.S. Lewis, all my bloggy friends and yours truly. Sounds like an awesome dinner party, no? Aren't you glad you're all invited?

Even though my devotion to Peyton Manning remains intact, I am happy for New Orleans and their beloved Saints. I truly am. It was a long time coming, and I would never begrudge them this victory. Good job Saints! But don't expect me to say Who D--. It ain't happenin'. Seriously though, was that image of Drew Brees holding his son not the most precious thing you have ever seen? Even my non-sentimental, non-mushy dad thought so. And the Google commercial was almost as adorable. That might have been the first time a Superbowl commercial ever made me say "Awwww".


And it may be a bit premature, but I'm actually looking forward to a new week (including Monday, and for no particular reason, except maybe that my mom is making tortellini and italian sausage soup and it's a favorite of mine.) Hope yours is a good one!

Ode to My Dad on His Birthday

(try as he may, my dad never poses well for pics )

Today my dad turns 62. I tried and tried last night to write him a fitting post, something sentimental and lengthy, like all those posts I write for my mom and sister on their respective birthdays, but nothing would come out right. It's my dad's fault. I know he wouldn't want something mushy and sentimental, and of course, some brevity would be in order. So this is my ode to dad:

Happy birthday to my old enough to draw social security dad. There's no one else in the world I love discussing football, submarines, cold war conspiracies, history, local news, politics, weather, family and LOST with more than you. And while I'll never understand your deep abiding love for country music, or your enjoyment of the wretched show that is Two and a Half Men, I will always say you're my favorite dad. Because you are (my only dad).

Happy Birthday!!!

Caffeinated Randomness: Birthdays and Superbowls and Inventory oh my!

I have never been so happy to see an upcoming weekend in all my life. This week at work we have been conducting our annual inventory. It's my responsibility to input all those counts in the computer and then double check them for accuracy. There is a part of me that likes taking a count (I blame it on my control-freak side) and of course a part of me that likes being in charge (again see control-freak side) but there is no part of me that appreciates 11 hour work days. I am utterly exhausted.

{Then you add in the mind meld that was LOST this week, and basically every part of me is mush. I haven't really had a chance to read a lot of recaps of the episode, but I plan to. Maybe somebody has been able to make better sense of it than I have. All I know is I will never get over the genius of producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse. Never ever.}

This weekend is especially exciting, though, because it's my dad's birthday. We are going to leave our little town for some fun and excitement. And by fun and excitement I mean dinner and a movie. Dad really wants to see Crazy Heart, and I'm just gonna have to go with it because I have no idea if it will be good or not. I think my dad entertains the notion that since it's about a country singer it will be like Pure Country. I'm thinking that no movie that wins SAG awards and Golden Globes for it's acting will be anything like Pure Country. But I'm not telling my dad that. It's his birthday after all.

So that's really all I have. Oh, and go Colts, because after all I'm a Peyton Manning fan (I'm sorry but I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching the absurd Oreo commercial where he and his equally adorable brother Eli take down the twin Trumps. It's okay if you think that makes me weird. And even if he didn't make that commercial he is still the best football player who ever lived, ever, so again, go Colts).

Happy weekend all. Over at Andrea's there is more random.

Random Dozen: The Morning After LOST

My brain still isn't functioning properly after it was blown completely to shreds last night with the season premiere of the final season of LOST. This is only natural when dealing with Smoke Monster Locke and Alternate Universes and finally seeing that temple everyone keeps talking about and wondering whether or not that's really Sayid or if it's Jacob inhabiting Sayid's body. Not to mention seeing Charlie, Boone and Claire again, figuring out why Desmond was on flight 815 (could it be because he was time traveling?), mourning the fabulous Juliet and being in awe of the acting of Terry O'Quinn. But anyways, where were we? Oh yeah. Random Dozen. That's a nice change of pace...


1. Do you use the labels various charities send you as “free gifts?” I have, and Miss Manners told me it was okay.

2. What is your favorite time of day (or night) for skywatching? This is a tough one because I am a giddy fan of both sunrises and sunsets, and I also love a good clear night for stargazing. But since I am not always up and alert for the sunrise and most evenings this time of year I'm all bundled up inside watching television, I will say sunset, because here in Oklahoma they can be especially beautiful. So 6 pm-ish.

3. What is the most adventurous you've ever been with trying a new food? (Keep it G-rated please) I am an exceptionally picky eater so not so much adventurous, I tried guacamole for the first time 2 1/2 years ago and loved it. Does that count?

4. Have you ever heard a rock sing? (Trust me, there's a reason for this one!) No.

5. If you could learn a language you don't presently speak, what would it be? Spanish.

6. Al Capone's tombstone read, “My Jesus, Mercy.” If you could write your own epitaph, what would it say? Right now I love the idea of it saying She was well loved and loved well.

7. If you were a famous musician who was known by one name, like “Cher,” “Sting,” or “Jewel,” what would it be? It doesn’t have to be your first name, but it can be, if you’d like. Kara is my first name so it might as well be. I love my middle name too, Elizabeth, but it just isn't much of a rock star name, neither is Beth. So Kara will have to rock it.

8. Have you ever been inordinately “into” a television show? Hmmm, did you read my last post? Read any of my posts on The Office? Tried to call me while LOST or a new episode of The Office or Chuck is on? But LOST takes the cake. Really. Truly. Officially obsessed since September 2004.

9. When you sneeze, do you go big, or do you do that weird “heenh!” sound that makes people think you’re going to blow your brains out? Any other variation we should know about? I think I have a wide repertoire of sneezes.

10. Do you still read an actual newspaper that you hold in your hands, or do you get your news elsewhere? Because my dad still subscribes to our local newspaper, I still read it, some of the time. But I'm fine getting my news on the internet (all my entertainment news, if you think that is newsworthy, and I do, comes from the internet ala ew.com and other such websites).

11. Are you a good speller? Yes, I think I am, but I also enjoy having spell check at my disposal.

12. At what time each day do you start thinking about Lost, er, lunch? Lunch sometimes before I've even had breakfast, LOST, is kind of a 24 hour obsession so I really can't say when I actually start thinking about it.

So that's that. Another Random Dozen. Was it coherent? It's too soon after LOST to tell. But maybe over at Lid's you'll find better Random. Why not head on over there now.

You Seriously Didn't Think I Could Write About Anything Else Today Did You?

Jack, Kate, Hurley, Sayid, Sun, Jin, Desmond, Miles, Richard, Ben, Frank, Locke, Juliet, Sawyer! I have missed you. It's been a long, long, long time. So long that you'd think I might have forgotten. Forgotten that some of you are chillin' in 77 and the rest of you are wondering what the heck is going on in 2007. Forgotten that Juliet set off the bomb and might be dead (RIP if you are!) and maybe reset everything. Forgotten that this is the very last season of the very best show that ever existed in the history of forever.

But I haven't forgotten.

I haven't forgotten about Daniel Faraday or Charlie or Boone or Libby or Shannon or Ana Lucia (but I wish I could forget about Nikki and Paolo). I haven't forgotten about Charlotte or Mr. Eko or Danielle Rousseau or Alex or Michael or WAAAAALT!! Nope. I haven't forgotten that Claire has been missing or what lies in the shadow of the statue. I haven't forgotten that Richard does not age and that time travel will cause a serious nose bleed and that hot pockets are not a serious defensive weapon. I haven't forgotten that Kate will inevitably fall in and out of love with Jack and Sawyer until the very last frame. I haven't forgotten that Hurley says dude more than I use an exclamation point. I haven't forgotten about pretend peanut butter or bear village or smokey the monster or taller ghost Walt or the numbers or the dharma initiative or flight 815. I haven't forgotten about the Oceanic 6 or Ajira Flight 316.

I haven't forgotten that a war is coming and that Jacob is a little touchy and that the man in black likes a good loophole. I haven't forgotten that Arzt was a bit explosive, Libby once was crazy, Desmond loves Penny, Eloise Hawking is a stone cold mother, Eko had a thing for his Jesus stick and that it's not Penny's boat. I know that Sawyer doesn't speak destiny and that Jack wants us to all live together so we don't die alone. I know that Faraday's mother is an other. I miss book club in Dharmaville and ping pong tournaments on the beach with Sawyer and Hurley.

And, as an aside, Sawyer can call me freckles if he wants to. Just sayin' (Seriously, those dimples. are. insane.).

I am happy and I am sad and I am ready for some answers (and I suspect I may never get them all). So tonight, who really cares if that groundhog saw his shadow or not? Whistle for Vincent and let's get this show on the road! It's the beginning of the end....

Leaving a Legacy

Nanny with my Aunt Terri

The week before last, when my Aunt Nancy was in town, she took my mom and me to eat lunch at my favorite spot. We walked in just ahead of the new owner's parents. Her father had been my grandmother's boss when she was alive. After we were seated they came over and my mom introduced them to my aunt, telling them she was Melva's sister. Eyes light up when someone mentions my Nanny. Everyone, and I mean, everyone, I've ever met who knew her, loved her. Loved her deeply. As we left the restaurant we stopped to talk to the owner. My aunt told her she was Melva's sister and Samantha gave her a big hug. It was if by hugging Aunt Nancy she was somehow getting to hug my Nanny again. As if a little part of Nanny still resided in her next of kin, and some sort of magic could connect them again. If it were that way, I'd never, ever stop hugging my Aunt Nancy or my mom or my cousins. I miss Nanny that much.

Even now, nearly 17 years after her passing, people still love to talk about her, still love her as if she was still here with us. I cannot tell you how many people have stopped me and asked me if I was Melva's granddaughter (it's because I'm my mother's twin, and if they knew my Nanny they knew my mom). When I tell them I am they invariably go on and on about the kind of woman she was and how much they loved her. There's nothing like being told how much someone loves a person you also loved. And one thing's for sure, my Nanny was well loved and loved well.

Four years ago, when I went with my best friend to her first ultrasound, the nurse attending her was a former co-worker of my Nanny's. When she realized who I was she gushed on and on about food my grandmother had prepared and a blanket she made when the woman had a baby and the shower she had for her. All these things happened more than twenty years ago but the gratitude still spilled fresh from this woman's heart. Nanny had that kind of effect on people.

She loved in simple, but extravagantly beautiful ways. She was an incredible cook (and no one, to this day, can match her fried chicken)and loved her family and friends and co-workers with kitchen creations that warmed the heart and filled the belly. She was also a seamstress, a party hostess and a bookkeeper. She was the oldest of five, and a mother of five and a grandmother (at the time of her death) of five. I have a feeling that each of us thought we were her favorite. That's the only way to love that many people. Love em like each one is your favorite. There is surely no greater legacy.

I want to be like that. For a long time I've believed the best way for me to leave a legacy is to write. Surely what I put on this blog or in my journals will outlive me. But what I wonder is, will it matter? Will it matter like the things my Nanny did? Will people approach my grandchildren thirty or forty years from now and ask them if they are Kara's? Will their eyes light up as the recount what I did to care for them and how I loved them and how much that meant?

Because if I never get published or never am read by more than the twenty or so people who claim to follow my blog I won't be a failure if I can dare to love like my Nanny loved. And I know it will cost me. It cost my Nanny. You aren't first in your life when you love like she loved. You stay up late and you get up early and you slave over hot stoves and you clean up after grandkids and you don't let on that you feel sick, even when you have cancer, and you make everyone feel like they are the most special person in the room. That will cost you something. But it's better than being famous and it's harder than being published and it's richer than making millions.

Well loved and loved well. That was Nanny's legacy. And I hope, one day, it will be mine.

On Church and Tapestry and Ping Pong Tournaments in My Head

My church is a small church. It's in a small town, so that may not seem like a big deal, but even in a small town we're still considered a small church. There is no singles program, or young adult program of any kind, for that matter. In fact, out of the sixty or so people that attend, I'm one of three single people in my church, the only one under age 40. All the young people in my church are married. They all have children. We may be the same age but we are definitely at different places in our lives. Sometimes it’s hard to relate, until we can find a common topic like LOST or Facebook. But my church is my church. I love them, but it's also been a difficult ride these last several months.

Last November my best friend and her husband made the decision to leave our church and find one that fit them better, which left me feeling alone in my own church family. It had nothing to do with me, but her leaving devastated me. I loved singing with her on the worship team, playing with her daughter before Sunday school, and visiting with her during our monthly fellowships. Her not being there has left a hole in my church life.

Another reason it's been difficult is that I feel I have no designated place to serve. For eight years I was my little church's worship leader. Then this year I was replaced as worship leader. At first I was relieved. If you’ve never been in that kind of position in a church you have no idea, but it can be exhausting. Some people love what you do, other people hate it. No matter what the opinions rise up, and try as I may, I couldn’t keep them from affecting me. Having someone else handle all the pressure was freeing. It felt good. And it felt weird. I didn’t know what to do every week. I realized that these roles defined me in my church and not having them to anchor me left me feeling like a ship that lost its moorings.

I’ve been doing this back and forth thing in my head. Without the responsibility to buoy me to my church, I have a bit of freedom. So, in my head, I toss back and forth what to do. Do I stay, or do I go? Am I afraid to leave because it’s all I’ve ever known, or is this where God has called me? Some Sundays I feel so sure this is my place. Others I just plot and plan my escape, daydreaming about where to go and what might be waiting for me, somewhere else. Some mornings it’s a fight to get out of bed and go. I feel I won’t be missed and it won’t matter.

Something changed today.

My pastor chose to do something he rarely does, he sat down. Sat down and asked us to get up and talk. He asked us to share from our hearts what our church meant to us. Share how people in the church had ministered to us. The cynic in me was dreading this. I know how long winded people can be (ahem, are you still even reading this long post?) and I really just wanted to get on with my Sunday. But my heart was just soft enough to listen. Just soft enough to respond.

I listened as person after person got up, some awkwardly like a newborn calf finding his gait, some calm and sure like a glass lake on a still day. Many choked back tears while others let them flow freely. Some quoted scripture like they had been born with those words written on their heart while others could only manage a few, still heart-felt words, “I love this church family.” I listened and listened and then the microphone was handed to me. To me. The wavering girl. The girl devastated by the loss of her friend, the girl who felt out of place in the very church she was raised in. Me. The girl with a ping pong tournament going on in her head.

I managed to say something about being in this church all my life. Stammered something about how different the church looked, about green shag carpet and about being the only single thirty-something girl there. And then my mouth spoke something I don’t think my brain was privy to even moments before, “But this is my church, this is where I belong.” I shared how I had set some goals for myself this year and one of them was to learn to love well. And as I looked around the room it occurred to me, these were the teachers who were going to help me learn. They know how to love well. This is where I belong.

One of the men who shared today talked about how we all were woven together like a tapestry. He went on to explain how the back of a tapestry looks like a mess, all these strands of fabric sticking out, looking like no one belongs alongside the other, but turning it around in the front they are beautifully blended together. That’s our body. Young, old, rich, poor, single, married, widowed. We’re all different, but we’re all one. All part of a tapestry God has woven together for His glory and beauty and purpose. I loved that analogy.

So here I am. The only single thirty something in my church, one of only a handful of young people who attend. I don't have a fancy role, no big responsibilities to tie me to it. But still, I'm woven together with these people. And our God is weaving us into a beautiful tapestry. I'm just glad I get the chance to be a thread.

Caffeinated Randomness: A Little Bit of This And A Little Bit Of That

We're in a sort of holding pattern tonight here in my part of the world. While the northern two thirds of my state have been pummeled with ice and sleet and snow, we've just had a cold cold rain. But the weather reports promise (or warn if you're not a snow fan like myself) that overnight the rain will turn to ice and then the ice will turn to snow. Right now (just after midnight) I don't know if I'll be able to make it to work tomorrow or not. I feel like a kid who doesn't know if the next day school will be closed or not so she waits up hoping and watching (and maybe praying).




I am in the mood to cook this weekend. It's either going to be lasagna or meatloaf, but either way it's going to be comfort food and it's going to be fantastic. At first I was leaning towards lasagna because it's the one dish wonder, but then I remembered how I have been craving meatloaf, and the trimmings that go with it: scalloped potatoes and green beans. Oh, and I also think I want to make a layered chocolate cake. From scratch. I know, it's very Betty Crocker of me.



Last weekend I purchased a quilt on sale at the store I work for, and went ahead and special ordered a new dust ruffle and pillow shams to go with it. So the money I saved in getting a half price quilt is now lost to new regular priced items to match. But my room is going to be so bright and springy once it all comes together. My hope is it will inspire me to paint my room, which was a long forgotten plan from last August. So now it's on the agenda for February.

In other weekend and random news, I am going to go see When in Rome this weekend. I don't know why. I know it's going to be your predictable formulaic romantic comedy. But they suck me in every time. It's either that or the popcorn and coke. Last weekend I went with my parents to see The Book of Eli. It's dark, violent and bleak, but at the same time, strangely, inspiring. If you can handle the violence and the language, go see it. I think the message supersedes those two negative elements.

Oh, and before I forget, I'm over at Exemplify today. I wrote on something a bit out of my comfort zone in that it was more vulnerable and honest than I like to be. I hope it blesses you.

So happy Friday! And go to Andrea's for more Caffeinated Randomness

Random Dozen: There is a Guns and Roses Song in My Head

In the course of a year I went from being a New Kids on the Block fan to a Heavy Metal Hair band fan. Poison, Slaughter, Guns n' Roses, all those ridiculous groups were my mainstay of musical enjoyment. I was 13ish though, so what did I know? Except that in 365 days I went from adoring Jordan Knight to adoring Brett Michaels. And yes that makes me kinda cringe right now (and there but by the grace of God I never ended up on any of those Rock of Love shows. Oh I kid, I kid- and I cringe. again.). That has nothing to do with this random dozen, except that the theme that Lid picked makes me think of a song by Guns n' Roses called Patience. It was a lame song, even then (but the intro of Sweet Child O'Mine is still awesome, I will maintain that all my life, and one day you will all hear the story of how my cousin Preston came to believe I knew how to play said intro on his guitar). On with the dozen:

1. How good are you at delaying gratification? I have come to realize that I am absolutely no good at this. Which is why I am overweight, have a large amount of credit card debt and still live at home with my parents. But I'm no longer in denial, so, the first step has already been made.




2. Maybe a marshmallow wouldn't be too difficult a temptation for you. What food (or anything else) would be most tempting? French Fries!!!! Especially hot, crispy yummy ones. Probably ones I make myself, and I let them get really, really golden brown and they are really, really thin and crispy.


3. On a scale of 1-10 (10 being saintly) how patient are you? I'm going to say a 5. There are some things (and people and circumstances) I'm more patient with than others.



4. Have you ever waited for something in life only to be disappointed upon realization of the goal/object/etc.? Hmm. Most of the things I've wanted the most I'm still waiting for so I can't say that I'm disappointed with them yet. I hope once I do get these things I am grateful and happy to have them finally in my life.


5. Are you a person who takes shortcuts? Yes in driving. And, if I'm being honest, in life too. Maybe that's why I'm only at a five in the patience department.


6. Which line is hardest to wait in? The line at the Tag Agency office. Nobody seems to be in a good mood, everybody (like me) has waited until the last minute so they're feeling nervous and impatient. It's a not fun combo.



7. Did you wait to discover the gender of your unborn child until its birth? I haven't had children yet, but being the impatient/control freak that I am, I'm going to want to know the gender.


8. Are you more patient with children or the elderly? Children.


9. Did you ever sneak a peek at a present? Yes.


10. What is the longest you've ever waited for anything? 32.5 years and counting.


11. Who has more patience, you or your significant other? At this point in time it's me! But that's only because I don't know my significant other yet so I can really attest to his patience level.


12. Which of the following songs about waiting is your pick for the best? (OK, you may substitute another, if you like.)

A) Anticipation by Carly Simon
B) The Waiting by Tom Petty
C) Right Here Waiting for You by Richard Marx
D) Wait for Me by Rebecca St. James


"You take it on faith, you take it to the heart, the waiting is the hardest part" I'm going with Tom Petty.

For more random dozen here. Why not join in all the fun and link up!

Changing The Tempo of My Life

I overslept this morning. I could blame it on my alarm, but it's more likely attested to the fact that I am perpetually lazy. I like sleep. And sometimes my brain and my body disagree about when to put myself to sleep at night and then fight over when to wake up in the morning. Today was one such day.

So now I'm in a rush. Some ambitious evenings I write up posts for the next day and schedule them, but last night I was too interested in watching Hoarders than to write a post. Some now I'm attempting to make something up on the fly. My hair is wet from my shower and I have about 15 minutes before I need to leave my house. But here I am, determined to write something on a Tuesday. I hate the rushed feeling so I'm ignoring it.

What I wanted to share today was something I read in a devotional yesterday. It stuck with me all day, in the same way a really hearty breakfast will, and I made plans to write about it here. It's from Jesus Calling by Sara Young. I'd provide a link to it on Amazon, but as I've mentioned before, time crunch. So I won't. But it's a good devotional sort of book (my boss always feels like it "reads her mail" every day, I won't go that far but it is good, I mix it in with Daily Light and a little Beth Moore devotional on Believing God). It's supposed to be like Jesus talking to you, which can sometimes be awesome and sometimes feel a little odd. Yesterday fell under the awesome category. But I'm blabbing and should just get on with it (why do I ramble when I'm running behind? Must be a nervous energy sort of thing).

"Enjoy the tempo of a God-breathed life by letting Me set the pace."

Just one sentence. But it was good enough to chew on for the last 24 hours. I think about the tempo of my life. Sometimes it's a lazy river sort of pace, me just floating along, on autopilot, not really doing much more than existing. Other days, like this morning, it's a frantic pace brought about from too much "autopilot" laziness. I'm the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland and I'm jumping around singing "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say Hello! Goodbye! I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!"

I need a new pace. A tempo of a God-breathed life. No more lazy meandering. No more frantic jolts. A God-breathed life.

And it would be nice if I didn't oversleep.