Category Archives: memories

Christmas Presence

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I’m in love!

As I write this, it’s Christmas Eve in my neck of the woods, still quite early. Children are nestled, snug in their beds while Mommy is almost panicked with ‘to do’ lists a mile long dancing in my head. My house is a mess, but festive! The dog needs a bath. My poor Christmas tree, “Sherrie”, is crispy from thirst. Her limbs are hanging low from ten years of homemade ornaments and lifetime memories.  My daughters named her after Steve Perry’s song.  Bless their little Journey hearts. Whew. This Christmas season has got to slow down. For God’s sake, I haven’t blogged in ages! I’m spread thinner than a Baptist minister’s combover.

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December in a good year can be tough. In addition to the mountains of activities and festivities and nativities, my youngest daughter has her birthday right smack in the middle. She wanted a sleepover with NINE friends ” more than anything in the whole world.” And her sister had one the year before, so she played the older sister trump card.  And won. Without exhausting myself further by reliving it, you can fill in the blanks with screams, giggles, pizzas, popcorn, and thousands of Rainbow loom bands. (And please remove any and all sleep from this scenario). But I got gifts too! The mommies brought wine! Any time I complain about her birthday, I have to remind myself it was poor planning on my part to give birth in the middle of December.

Next. My Elf on the Shelf has all but become a third child. Actually fourth considering the dog. I have woken up at three am more than once in a panic realizing I forgot to move him. And I know I’m not alone! As darling as this Yuletide addition is to all of our homes this time of year, he’s also a bit of a pain. This year, I’ve only forgotten to move him once and the little angels weren’t happy. “Mommy, he’s still sitting on the mantle! He didn’t move!” Quick thinking mommy replies, “Well girls, did you fight yesterday?” They glance at each other, “Yes. But we fight everyday.” So true. “Girls, the Elf is not used to this and has reported back to Santa.”

Then, the  Tooth Fairy was summoned.  My oldest lost a wisdom tooth. I remembered it.  Saw it. Congratulated her. Prepared for the Tooth Fairy visit by rummaging through my purse. A five dollar bill. Perfect! Then forgot. Four days later, my daughter plops her little dimpled face into her hands inches away from mine while I’m trying to get my last five minutes of sleep. “This tooth fairy thing is a rip off.” Whaaaa? “It’s been four days! Nothing.” Lots of four letter words like sugar plums danced in my head. “Are you sure???  Did you check everywhere?”” She shot me ‘the look’ reminding me this wasn’t her first rodeo. “You have to write a letter,” I told her. “Maybe she’s sick.”  That sufficed long enough for quick thinking mommy to get my plan in action.  This is the letter I found:

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“Dear Tooth Fairy, You didn’t give me my money yet from my tooth. I want it.”

Next morning, the Elf had tucked it under his little elf arms while canoodling with the Monster High dolls. That silly elf! It was him all along I assured her.  She seemed to buy the idea that the Elf actually did steal the money and the Tooth Fairy wasn’t slack. “Maybe he’s stealing other stuff. I can’t find my boots.” Now I have an elf thief.

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The Elf: Friend? Thief?

photo 4Don’t get me started in the advent calendar. Oops. Too late. Simple math. Twenty four little boxes for twenty four days times two little angels equals hundreds of small items. Right? I’ll admit I was pretty good with it, slipping only twice. But being reminded forty times. “It’s the Elf. I swear I put something in there.” I really have started liking him.

Truth is, the season is supposed to be crazy.  Things will be left undone. Things forgotten.  Who cares?   But in a flash, it’s gone. I’m thankful my children still believe for that too will be gone in an instant.  As I say, you must Believe to Receive! It is funny though when you think what must run through our kids’ minds as all of these creatures: the Elf, Tooth Fairy, and Santa mysteriously visit and play while they aren’t watching.  Hmmmm….

Tonight, I will be with my beautiful angels all dressed up with friends.  We will come home and put cookies and milk out for Santa and make Magic Reindeer Food for Santa’s reindeer. Mommy will have a nice glass of Cabernet by the fire and tomorrow a new Christmas memory will be under our expanding belts.  Merry Christmas!  Happy New Year from UnWINEd!

Tammy

Recipe for Magic Reindeer Food:

Raw Oats, Glitter, Carrots, Apples

***Leave out for the Reindeer!

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Awww.  I’m really going to miss this little guy:)

Ribbit the Exhibit , another stellar way to unWINEd in the South

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Since my mind was old enough to record memories, I remember my love of frogs.  I used to ‘rescue’ the little green tree frogs with sticky feet from my sliding glass doors.  I would cup their little smooth bodies carefully in my hands and transport them to their new home: my red Old McDonald barn with doors that “mooed” when they opened.  If I got really lucky, I might even find a bullfrog.  They loved it there.  Or, that’s what my four-year old mind thought.  After they would hop around with the plastic cows and chickens, it was time for a swim!  I would then fill my bathroom sink with water and watch their little legs kick in synchronicity!  I would hold them and wrap them in washcloths after.

Over the years, my fondness hasn’t wavered.  I am drawn to their cuteness- those big eyes, bulky bodies, their quirky sounds and harmless nature.  They’re not exactly superhero material, though their fly-catching ability and immense jumping potential is pretty impressive. Obviously, there’s something to this attraction as they’ve cornered the fairytale market for years. The idea of kissing a slimy suitor only to have him turn into a handsome prince is not just for the pretty princess, it’s a mini life hint: behind those bulging eyes and big mouth, you may be surprised at what’s in front of you, warts and all.

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All this leads me to the Ribbit the Exhibit, a spectacular display of HUMAN size frogs in a heavenly corner of the world, Airlie Gardens in Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.  Set amidst 67 acres of jaw dropping lush gardens, live oaks, ponds, and Bradley Creek, are 16 copper creations by famed sculptor Andy Cobb. Having known Andy for years and my little angels adoring his many unique aquatic adaptations, this exhibit exemplifies his mega talent.

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Fred and Ginger

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fFresh catch

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Tree frog

And these aren’t just your average hop-in-the-field frogs.  They mow, dance, scuba dive, catch butterflies, and even perform a lotus pose on a lily pad.  And if you happen hoppin to be in the area, Ribbit the Exhibit will be on display until September 22, 2013.  Feel free to kiss them….you won’t be the first!

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mowin’ the garden

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lotus on a lily pad

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Brass Band

“Theories pass. The frog remains.”  Jean Rostand

“I’d kiss a frog even if there was no promise of a Prince Charming popping out of it. I love frogs.”  Cameron Diaz

Humidity Rocks!

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Welcome to North Carolina ya’ll!  Please put your hair in its upright position!  Once we stepped onto the jetway and took our first big gulp of wet air, I knew I was home.  Humidity and the South go together like bees and honey, cukes and tomatoes, flies and Chardonnay. The little angels whined, “Mommy it’s sooooooooo hot.”  Ah, bless their little hearts….and we just got here! My hair went from unmanageable to Miss Sweet Potato Queen runner-up in seconds! In the land of big hair, I fit right in.

cukes2We were welcomed with the sweet melody of Southern drawls. Even the airport security guy was nice when I freed Cowboy from his carrier.  “Excuse me honey.  Do you mind holdin’ your dawg until you can take him outside?  Thank you.(smile) He shore is a purty dawg.” He reached down and gave him a little scratch on the head. We are not at LAX.

My friends and my daughters’ friends were circling like seagulls waiting for us to pull in from the airport.  Holding mommy sippee cups filled with fruity cocktails, they embraced us as if it had been forever and a day. With a few apologies for impending rainstorms, I couldn’t thank them enough as if they had ordered it especially for us.  Rain?  Yippee!  Tears of joy! (It never rains in California, the girls don’t they warn ya’). We caught up on gossip, our lives, and tied the two coasts together as if they were connected at the hip.oak tree

I slid into the South like an old pair of loafers, ones I had hidden in the back of a closet.  The air is fresh and clean.  Cicadas hum every afternoon from the live oak trees and people stop by unannounced just to talk about the weather, leave a pie or boiled peanuts, or ask how we’re doing (and they really want to know!).  To see my daughters beam with the same excitement I had growing up by the beach here overwhelms me.  The simple pleasures are the big ones.  Riding bikes in bikinis, jumping off friends’ docks, eating fried shrimp and picking blueberries excite them more than a One Direction concert

dockNorth Carolina is where my heart is; where it will always be.  My toes dig into the soft powdery sand like roots and to me, there’s no place more beautiful.  My years away make me more appreciative everyday that I have this.  It has shaped me into the person I am. I’m doubly thankful that I can see the same joy in my daughters’ eyes.  They are me.

As I unWINEd in North Carolina, I want to give you a few sweet things to sink your teeth into about the wonderful South:

Land of Southern Belles, country ham, and blueberry pies.  Azaleas, beauty queens, pig pickins’ and front porches. Rocking chairs, and NASCAR, sweetened ice tea, ice-cold beer, and the Intracoastal Waterway.  Garden clubs, floral dresses, floral everything.  Long vowels, country music, fat tomatoes and cucumbers from your garden and summer rainstorms and bare feet. Live oak trees, bluegrass, cardinals, bushy-tailed squirrels and the Civil War.  Pee-cans, homemade preserves, and Dukes mayonnaise.’Yes ma’ams’, grits and buttermilk biscuits, and warm ocean water.  Hush puppies, needlepoint, chivalry, madras plaid and pick-up trucks.  Just to name a few…..

Stop by and say heyyy!  I’ll have a cocktail waiting.  And thanks to the humidity and my perpetual glow, I’m two years younger just writing this!bikes

Sending warm hugs and humid kisses,

Tammy

“In my mind I’m going to Carolina. Can’t you see the sunshine, can’t you just feel the moonshine? Ain’t it just like a friend of mine to hit me from behind? Yes, I’m going to Carolina in my mind.”

-James Taylor (NC native) “Carolina in My Mind”

 

“Spend the afternoon.  You can’t take it with you.”

~Annie Dillard