Happy birthday to my son

Three years and six days after our daughter was born, our son, Andy, entered our lives.

Even though this was my second child, I was almost as nervous this time around. Steve and I knew we were having a boy. I had just figured out the whole baby girl thing. Now I had to rethink it all to consider that this child would be of the male persuasion. Don't misunderstand. I was thrilled. Just a little nervous.

Not only did I know nothing about little boys, but people were quick to assure me that my son would most likely be a little terror. “Just wait!” they'd say with a malicious gleam in their eyes. “Boys are not like girls. He'll be a handful.”

It was true in a way. He was an armful, entering the world at 9 pounds 8 ounces. He didn't seem quite as fragile as my daughter had been. But then, maybe I was more sure of myself. Andy was a happy baby who quickly became a happy toddler, who became a trickster with a wicked sense of humor.

In spite of the numerous warnings related to baby boys, my son has always been a joy. Without him, I never would have made pinewood derby cars, attended Cub Scout jamborees, been a rock band mom, or become a King of the Hill fan. I probably wouldn't even know what a Pokemon is.

Shakespeare claimed that all the world is a stage, a concept few people have grasped as fully as Andy. He managed to steal the show on numerous occasions during church and school programs. He loved (make that loves) costumes and has plenty to choose from in his closet.


Andy is a musician (got that from Dad)

and an artist (which I like to think comes at least partly from me).

In fact, I think Andy is like me in a lot of respects. We are the dreamers of the family. The ones that hear a different drummer. I kind of like that about us.


In a previous post I mentioned that we have a picture of Mindy at church with Easter lilies on the day of her baptism. We also have one of Andy with poinsettias when he was baptised on Christmas day. To me it is the most important milestone in a life of many delightful milestones. And that's just so far.

Happy Birthday, Andy!

Road trip!

I recently took a road trip with my friend, Iva. Of all my friends, Iva is the most adventuresome. Which is another way of saying that we always end up places I probably would not go on my own and doing things I wouldn't normally do. I'm almost always glad afterward. She helps me stretch myself.

When I travel with most people, we roll the windows up and stick to the plan. But with Iva, we crank the windows down and sail down the road with our hair flying around our faces. Like Thelma and Louise (if Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis had been middle-aged and going shopping instead of gorgeous young things on the lam).

This year we returned to Nashville, Indiana, the shopping mecca of artists and artists wannabes.

I have lost count of the number of times we have been to Nashville, but it's a nostalgic journey. 25 or 30 years ago we went annually with a group of friends who were all struggling young adults. We stayed in the cheapest accommodations we could find, 4 or 5 of us to a room, and ate fast food because we couldn't afford the nice restaurants. We always had a great time.

This year, Iva and I stayed at a B&B, in the heart of town (more about that later). We ate in “real” restaurants, and spent real money. When I got tired, I found a little wine bar and read The Jefferson Key on my Android (my cheap answer to a Kindle. It's a little like chopping a paperback book in two crossway and reading a half a page at at time).

Incidentally, this is a glass of "Slender Wine". It has no carbs and no food calories. It was pretty good, but I can't tell that it made me slender. Maybe I didn't drink enough :)

Iva and I still have adventures. Driving through the country in the early evening, we found a covered bridge in neighboring Bean Blossom which was beautiful in the fading light. Graffiti love notes, like cave drawings, were etched into the wood, and beer bottles were stuck in the crevices of the interior walls. The stories that bridge could tell!

Also in Bean Blossom (and don't you love that name?) we found a gem of a farmhouse/flower garden/restaurant. The Farmhouse Cafe and Tea Room. My friend is a avid gardener and always on the lookout for plants. We spent an hour or so wandering through the garden with large cups of iced strawberry tea and returned for lunch the next day.

Since Iva is a lover of all things green, we couldn't help but notice when we saw small signs perched along the road announcing “Hosta Hill”. Hostas! Even I can keep a hosta alive.

We followed the signs and found ourselves on a narrow dirt road leading to...who knows where? I prayed we wouldn't have to pass a truck, but soon realized this was not a problem. We weren't passing anyone or anything. Where were those hostas anyway? Was it all just a ruse to lure people off the highway and into the cover of the woods?

Eventually, we heard barking and saw signs of human habitation. We pulled into a short gravel drive in front of a small home and one of the sweetest dogs I have ever met came to meet us.

We soon heard more barking from inside. A woman emerged from the home, shutting the door quickly behind her (supposedly to contain the yapping devil dogs inside).

I was still a little nervous. We seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere after all. Then I saw a few pots scattered here and there holding hosta plants at various stages of growth. Little did I know they were the tip of the iceberg. The woman's name was Krista and believe me, she knew her hostas.

Krista led us down a path to her nursery, where the hostas abounded in earnest. She and Iva began to talk plants. I lost interest and went back to petting the dog, whose name, I'd learned, was Patsy.

I perked up when she showed us a hosta variety called “Skywalker”. Part of the Stars Wars family of hostas (????). I took its picture because back in the day, I was a Mark Hamill fan. The other girls could have Hans Solo. I loved Luke.

In case you're wondering, this is what Skywalker looks like.

Iva's new plants getting ready for their ride to Lexington. We never come home empty handed! We always return with treasures and treasured memories!