Hometown Glory

Going home is something that I always look forward to. Kyle says its not going "home" its going to my parents' house. (again, with the sillyness...) But, either way, going back to Stonewall is always a treat. There's something about going to the place you grew up that can always bring a smile to your face. This past weekend was a long time coming. We were all there - Robin & Ryan and both their kids, John Ryan & Nora, Randi & Bill, and Me & Kyle. Not very often are well all there at the same time.

Saturday, me, Randi and Mom spent the day cleaning out boxes (from all stages of our lives). Robin came later to find the stack of her stuff we were already making. We laughed at the funniest things we would find: old pictures, letters from mom to Robin at college her freshman year(back before cell phones and email!), and mounds of Randi's college art stuff. We looked through old baby pictures, dance pitures, and even an old Speak and Spell! (If you didn't have one of those growing up and you're not hearing the voice right now in the back of your head, you won't understand the laughs we had when we found it) It was a long, tiring, but fun day.


Randi surrounded by her "Stuff" (sorry for the blurry picture)

While we worked with Mom, the boys helped Dad put a new roof on one of his buildings out back. They came home with the funniest stories about being chased by wasps, scooting across rotted boards, and not knowing what in the world they were doing. We should've videoed their time outside!

The Adele song I posted above has become a new favorite. It's how I feel when I go back sometimes. Will Kyle and I ever live there? I'm still not sure. I don't know if it'll feel the same if I'm there all the time. This weekend I got to see two close friends and their kiddos. It's like in my mind nothing has changed but I go back and all my girlfriends are moms and I realize how much it has. Life is funny like that.

the chorus goes like this:
"Round my hometown, memories are fresh
Round my hometown, ooh, the people I've met
Are the wonders of my world, are the wonders of my world,
Are the wonders of this world, are the wonders... "

Father's Day

Dad, Daddy, Father, Pops, Daddy-O, Faja, etc. We joke around and call my dad many names but at the end of it all he’s just good ole Dad. Greg Baker is someone that is one-of-a-kind, to say the least. He’s not over the top or overtly “gushy” but he’s lovable nonetheless. There are certain things that come to mind when thinking of and celebrating him. They are things that make him who he is and things that are so comforting when being around him.

He never has clean fingernails – Never. He’s a working man with working man hands and I can’t imagine him with smooth hands. They’re the type of hands that show what he’s done all day, whether it be because of a purple nail that he slammed in something, or splinters stuck under the skin, or just the wear and tear of over 40 years of hard work. He has a distinct “Dad” smell. It’s a mixture of grease, tobacco, and every now and then the hint of a fire somewhere. It’s a smell that only his daughters can appreciate and learn to love. He always drives a red truck, always has as far as I remember (even though I’ve seen pictures of a green one), and it’s always a Chevy. He wears lace up boots and socks with sandals. He rocks a pretty awesome mustache (never seen him without one) and not quite as much hair as he used to. He doesn’t always have a ton to say, but I’ve learned with age that when he speaks – listen.  But, the best is when he hugs. There’s this little squeeze at the end of the hug that is the best.

My sisters and I are awfully blessed by having the Dad we do. He may not have always been home every second of the day, but he was always out working for us. He was the first one at every ball game and the last one to leave from working on the field. Dad not only completed supported my decision to live in Togo, West Africa for a year, but he (surprisingly!) came to visit with my mom! He loves all three of us girls and our mom unlike any one else could. Between the four of us, we’ve given him enough grief to last anyone a lifetime and yet he sticks through it all. He’s seen us through collectively at least ten proms, numerous boyfriends, and enough drama to drive anyone crazy, but he turns a blind eye and laughs through the details.

He’s Greg-o and he’s my dad.






Dad with some of the Christians in Togo while out visiting the villages 



Giving me some "pre-wedding" laughs while taking pictures.

summer insomnia

Last night I couldn't sleep. This is nothing new for me in the summer time. See, I'm a sleeper (and, I'm pretty good at it) and I enjoy the amount of sleep I'm able to get in the summer days. But, with endless days of sleeping late, comes nights of not being able to find sleep. Kyle had been asleep for a couple of hours before I even made the attempt to go to bed. After searching for Zzz's for about an hour and a half, I finally ventured to the couch. Bummer - sleeping on the couch. An hour later, and two episodes of House Hunters International plus milk and Oreos, I think I finally fell asleep. 

The point? Kyle woke me up this morning. The voice behind his question of, "Why are you on the couch?" was priceless. It was full of meaning. He was worried that something was wrong, that I was upset, or strangely concerned that maybe I had gotten up before him. My husband is often energetic, full of excitement, and passionate in every emotion (and I often poke fun at him for this "over-the-top-ness") but his emotion of concern over me is one that I always am grateful for. He cares for me and worries when I don't - even if I just couldn't sleep. Later when talking to him on the phone he reminded me that he didn't like waking up and me not being in bed. He's so silly, unexpected, and great. 

As I sit here writing, I see my African Shaker that I brought home from Togo. 

my "bug-infested African church shaker"

He's been begging me to throw it away. The beads are starting to fall off and there's holes in it now, dust surrounding it on the desk. He's convinced that I've brought some sort of "African bug" home that's invading his house. But to me, I just can't get rid of it. That was a year of many experiences, but one of the best parts is that it was a year that brought he and I closer. It's weird the things you find symbolism in, things you can't seem to let go. I guess I could throw it away... I know I should. But secretly, I kind of like hearing him rant about the "bugs" I brought home with me, so I won't trash it yet.

rbs

and so it begins...

So, I'm doing this. I'm starting a blog.

It's summer and one thing I realize is how quickly it goes. Already, I've been out of school for almost a month and I can't tell you really what I've done so far. All I know is that I'm looking forward to what's next (seems like I always am). Today, it's not about what's to come or what has gone. Today, I've been home alone all day and after a crazy few months, I can say that today is about me, Kyle, and the things I'm grateful for. So, here are the important things.

That's our Mister. He's a lovable 14lb (almost 2 years old) Shih-Poo. 

And, there's my Kyle. He's my favorite.

During the summer... it's just us. And, for now, that's alright. I kinda dig it actually. 

Good things are happening:

- Kyle and I are going to the beach for the first time together. Okay, okay, so we went to Grand Isle one time. BUT, that's not really the beach. We're going to Gulf Shores with his entire family for his cousin Lauren's wedding. 

- We're taking a week-long "just us" vacation in July to Atlanta.

- Just decided to take on a new pet in August! We'll be "adopting" a beautiful 9-year-old yellow lab named Daisy. I'm surprisingly looking forward to it. But, apparently, she's fabulous and trained.  Yeah, all we need is something else... but Kyle has been wanting a lab and the hard, puppy years are already over, so it'll be good.