Retired Worm Hunter

As I took Leo for his walk on this lovely, wet autumn morning, I saw three big, fat earthworms.

I had a tiny moment of excitement and a flood of memories around days just like this one. On a rainy day, when it was just a little chilly, Sophia and I would go out with a container and our eyes open for worms. If you look closely at the bowl she's holding, you can see at least one earthworm getting saved from being squished on the sidewalk. Whether the bowl of mud and being handled by a small human are preferable, I wouldn't know.

As I had a moment of excitement about the worms, I realized that our days of going out in rain jackets to hunt for and "rescue" worms are probably over.

Sophia still loves being out in the rain. She still loves getting dirty. And, as a matter of fact, I could probably interest her in a worm or two. So maybe my worm hunting days are not completely behind me. I'll let you know.

Reflection

Every year, I compile a running folder of my favorite pictures of Sophia, her friends, our family and other stuff that I think might be important. Then, after her birthday each year, I head to a photo site and begin work on a book about that year. The purpose is similar to my blog. I don't want to forget. She loves looking back through the books, and I do too.

It's a process that I look forward to and simultaneously dread each year. This year's favorites folder held over 300 pictures. Not even a third of those go into a book. But it's a lot of fun going through them. I so enjoy reliving our adventures and regular days through pictures.

Here are a few of the ones I have to choose from.

One of our last visits as residents to the little park on the hill in our Columbia neighborhood.

 

A spring walk around our St. Louis neighborhood apparently made Sophia too tired to go home.

 

A trip to the St. Louis Zoo, and our first visit to the Sea Lion show. It was hot!!

 

That would be a silly face.

 

Working on a project in our dining room.

 

You can see why it's such a challenge! But I love doing it, and I especially love getting that fresh book in the mail!

It's My Birthday!

 

Twenty-seven years ago, this is what I looked like on my birthday. Today, I'm not wearing a party hat, but I'm still the same girl. Giddy about my day.

Patches

 

Patches is the one in the middle. The very unamused yet surprisingly cooperative feline between two dolls. I don't remember the story behind this picture. I can only imagine I was on the back porch playing with my favorite things, and Mom decided to snap a picture.

Patches was a good cat. Playful and attentive. Killed mice in the yard with regularity and pride. Snuggled with an occasional enthusiasm. Such a good cat.

I obviously loved her.

The Happiest Day of My Life

I have had many, many happy days in my life. But when I do a real evaluation, I cannot think of a day that I enjoyed quite as much of that light feeling in my heart, almost as if I might take flight. My wedding day met every hope and dream I had for it.

And nine years with Erick has been everything I hoped for and nothing I planned. As I think about it, my heart just might fly away.

Inner Hillbilly

Since our trip to Nashville, Erick and I have both rekindled our fondness for country music. We've always enjoyed some George (Strait, NOT Jones) or Willy, but a few years ago, country music just got SOOO irritating with every song being about being from the country and being 'Murican that I couldn't handle it anymore. I'm not opposed to patriotism or being from the country, but I don't need every song to identify the fact that the singer was born and raised on a farm. And drives a truck. And loves dogs.

During the week since our return, it seems better. This morning I heard a song that I immediately didn't like but begrudgingly identified with. Enjoy.

Should have done that a long time ago

Tuesday morning, Erick and I set out on a roadtrip to Nashville. We haven't roadtripped together since before Sophia. It was only five hours, but a good enough drive to remind me why we don't do that with Sophia. It was also a long enough drive for me to impress Erick with my ability to sing along to very obscure old country western songs. When he changed the station because he couldn't handle that any more, I started to practice my newly learned beatboxing skills. Needless to say, the station was changed again.

Another quick stop was made in the "metropolis" of Metropolis, IL. We had to see the giant Superman statue. Glad we saw it. Doubt if we ever make that effort again...




The object was to get to LP Field in time to see the US Men's National Soccer team compete with Paraguay. Nashville was a really great city. Not sure why, but I was very surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I'll definitely be going back there. We spent some time prior to the game in the downtown area at the Wildhorse Saloon. After that, we headed to the game with 30,000 soccer fans. It was an exciting environment. I can only imagine how fun it is with a full house for a Titans game. The US lost the match, but it wasn't embarrassing by any stretch. A couple of missed opportunities and one that made it for the other side. All in all a great showing, and we had an absolute blast at the game.

After the game, we were very hungry, so we walked over the pedestrian bridge back into downtown. Every place we went into had already turned off the grill. That was a major disappointment. Finally, we found some food. After we wandered around a little more, we ended up in a place called Robert's Western World. We had hardly sat down when we looked up to see a group of interesting people walk in and sit down at the table next to us. Landon Donovan, the most well-known player on the team (arguably in American soccer), along with the goalkeeper from the game and a couple of other players were just looking to relax after a disappointing loss. It is probably nice to be a famous soccer player in Nashville because you're not going to be bothered a lot. In the entire place, there were about six of us who knew who they were. Erick and I carried on a conversation with Keeper Hahnemann, a beyond nice guy. I also can't say enough nice things about Landon Donovan. He was gracious and kind. Stylish and humble. I'm officially a fan. Erick had Hahnemann and Donovan sign his new red jersey. Now it's a wonderful keepsake from that trip. I'm glad we have it since we were having such significant technical difficulties that there is no record of the pictures of Erick and I with Donovan. That was pretty frustrating, but I don't plan on forgetting how that all went down.




The next day was just taken up by a long drive home. I wasn't quite as slaphappy or entertaining. I wish we could follow the team to every game, but it would never happen quite that way again.

Back to real life - or almost. Sophia and I are excited today because Erica and Ava are on their way for a visit. Can't wait to hang out with some great friends. Seriously loving this week.

Evidence

This weekend, we went to Springfield to visit my parents. We had a terrific visit with my parents. We also got some shopping in, in spite of the weather. Also, I acquired this little gem. Proof of my attachment to the shirt. I am going to allow for some over-time shrinkage, but the fact is that I'm eight in this picture.

That banjo player with the stunning smile is Danny Eakin, a favorite of mine from Silver Dollar City. The giant Daddy's Girl hat on my head is pink because my mom didn't think it was ladylike to constantly be wearing ballcaps. Therefore mine always had to be some form of pink. I have lots of favorite stories that revolve around my tomboyness, particularly given Sophia's girliness. It makes me giggle to think about.

Hand Me Down

 

This particular shirt was mine when I was probably 6 or 7. I was a smaller kid than Sophia. When we were going through boxes and stuff before our move, we came across a few of my favorite t-shirts and toys. I handed them down to Sophia, and occasionally she pops out of her room in one of my t-shirts. I'm certain that she does this just to please me because our styles as little girls could not possibly be more different.

This brings me to another memory. Every year, our family took a long vacation to Branson from central Illinois. I was given a certain sum to spend on vacation souvenirs and such. I can't remember the exact amount. I only know that it was just about the right amount to buy a t-shirt with an iron-on transfer at the first Ozarkland we came across. Every year. I was as constant as the moon. No matter how determined I was to save my money, I would always spend it on a t-shirt. From those Ozarkland visits, I have some gems like the cowboy shirt Sophia was wearing. I have several shirts with teddy bears doing different Bransony activities: playing banjo, chopping wood and such. After my t-shirt purchase, I usually had enough leftover to buy a couple Sarsasparillas and ice creams at Silver Dollar City.

I don't know whether or not it's sad, but this is exactly how I deal with my vacation money to this day. Maybe worse. Some vacations, I end up spending it all in advance on clothes to wear on vacation. The good thing is that I almost never buy t-shirts with banjo-playing bears...

That brings back memories

I have been thinking more about using this blog, not only as a place to share current happenings, but as an outlet and method of sharing favorite stories of my past and childhood as well. I've been thinking about the kind of stories that I would love to have from my grandparents and parents, and that leads me directly to the stories of my own that I don't want to lose before I remember to share them with Sophia.

Since I have started letting my mind focus in this direction, two very interesting things have happened. First, it has become much easier to come up with a memory or a story than it was before. Maybe you know how it is. Often for me, life in the moment becomes all that occupies my mind. As that happens, the past - distant or recent - becomes harder to put my fingers on. The stories are normally on the tip of my brain if I could just stretch my fingers far enough to grab a few. It turns out that quite a few of them are stored within reach of one another. I don't know another way to describe it, but it's been a surprise to me. Now just to get a few down.

The other thing that is even more interesting is that as I think back about things from my own childhood, I feel ever more present in Sophia's. Perhaps allowing myself to truly stop and remember what it feels like to be a kid has brought some of the "kidness" back. When I was younger, I looked forward to being a parent and having permission to play freely and be a kid again with my own family. That tends to get lost in the foray of everyday motherhood, but I feel like I may have regained a shadow of my childish self.

So I'll start this off with a small but mighty one. One of my favorite "run-of-the-mill" memories is of sitting on the floor of my room in Creve Couer, IL, in my dad's lap as he read my The Little Engine That Could. This was one of my favorites because it came with all the actions and sound effects of a real train. I still get a smile when I think about begging my dad to read it with me - "the right way."