On July 12th our only daughter will marry.  The first time I met my future son-in-law was in a hospital parking lot. Rachel brought him to meet us at the hospital where Bill works. I knew he was special because Rachel said he was.  From the time Rachel started dating she rarely dated anyone longer than a couple of months, but Gabe was different.  When they hit the one year anniversary mark I told my husband “this was the one.”

Rachel and Gabe have been dating about three years now and in a few days when they say “I do,” my heart will be full and overflowing. He is a wonderful young man and a blessing to our daughter and to our family as well!

Justin, our second son is such a comedian.  He loves to have fun and he keeps us laughing.  Last week after our tractor picture was made he decided to be Evil Knieval and jump over a trash can. As you can see by this picture he was successfull!

Yesterday I drove to Bowling Green to meet with the tile lady to make plans for the house we are building.  After that I met my daughter and we went to talk with the flower lady to finalize plans for the wedding (only 2 weeks!) Then we went to finalize plans with the cake lady. I got home at eight last night and fell into the bed. Remember this old song “The old gray mare she ain’t what she used to be, ain’t what she used to be, ain’t what she used to be.”  That’s me. Building a house and planning a wedding is making me just a little crazy.

Anyway, I thought it was very ironic when my aunt emailed the following story.  

Crackpot friends….
 An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck….
One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home onlyone and a half pots of water.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments.
But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and  miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to  the woman one day by the stream. ‘I am ashamed of myself, because this  crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.’

The old woman smiled, ‘Did you notice that there are flowers on your side ofthe path, but not on the other pot’s side
‘That’s because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted  flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them.’

‘For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.
 Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.’

Each of us has o ur own unique flaw. But it’s the cracks and flaws we  each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding . You’ve just got to take each person for what they are and look for the  good in them.

I don’t know about you, but my pot is definitely cracked! Have a great weekend!

Teresa

My dad was a farmer and sold farm equipment for years and years. Both my grandfather’s were farmers. While I didn’t always live on a farm, I’ve always been closely connected to farm life. My grandparents and my dad always had cows, chickens, tobacco crops, corn crops, and gardens.  So today I’m giving thanks for farmers.

Farmers are independent folks who work long hours and depend on the elements coorperation in order to survive.  I can’t drive by a field where a farmer is mowing hay without rolling my window down to inhale the fragrance.  There’s something peaceful and right about working the land for a living.

My father was a tall, handsome man with piercing blue eyes.  I never met anyone who could out work him.  Sun up-until sun down wasn’t long enough for him.  He loved watching crops grow and he loved working with farmers, selling them tractors, hay rakes and tobacco setters.  “Lets make a deal” could have been his own game show, because he was the best deal maker I’ve ever known as well.

I miss him and I miss my grandfathers. I miss knowing men like them.  Men who watch the weather faithfully because their livlihood depends on it. Men who do hard physical labor (often in unbearable heat and humidity) and don’t think a thing about working from daylight to dark. Men who take pride in what they do and who are confident in who they are.  They don’t mind the hillbilly jokes because they know that college degrees don’t necessarily mean you know how to raise crops to feed a family, or a community, or a nation.

Hardworking farmers deserve our respect and our gratitude.

Thank you Lord for farmers!

Aunt Roberta is my dad’s sister and one of the sweetest ladies I know.  My dad had three sisters, Mary Alice and Kate are the other two and I am blessed to have a close relationship with them all. Each of them are special in their own way and each have characteristics that endear them to me and to other people. Aunt Roberta’s special quality is her huge, huge heart. She cares deeply for others and lives the Christian life so vividly that it’s easy to see Jesus when you look at Aunt Roberta. She is a friend to all who know her and a true good Samaritan.

Yesterday she came by to visit and to see the new house we are building. She came with Aunt Mary Alice and a friend of hers. As we were leaving the building site I asked her friend to snap a picture. I intended to put it on here but the picture was so bad of me and Aunt Mary Alice that I cut us out and dedicated this blog to Aunt Roberta.  Sorry Aunt Mary Alice! (I’ll get you next time with a more flattering picture-we were both squinting so hard from the sun we don’t look like we have eyes!)

I love you Aunt Roberta! Thanks for coming by to see me and thanks for being such a wonderful loving person!

I thought I was busy before, but things are really picking up around here.  Suddenly I’m having to make a hundred decisions about the house we are building while trying to attend showers, dress fittings, etc. for the wedding next month.

I never knew there were so many decisions to make about building! Jeff, my patient contractor asks,
“What size trim? Do you want crown molding? How many rooms do you want it in? What color stain on the hardwood floor?” And my question is always the same one (bet you can guess what it is)….”How much does it cost?”

This morning I met with the trim guy. This afternoon I meet with the tile lady. At some point today I am to meet with Rachel at the bridal shop to see her try on her dress and make sure it fits correctly. 

Hope all my friends, family and cyber buddies are well and that you have a great weekend!

Teresa 

I love to write, but I have had to overcome a fear of public speaking. There is safety behind a keyboard. When you are up in front of a crowd and all eyes are on you the only safe place is in the women’s restroom and if you run out the door and go hide, I can almost guarantee you won’t be invited back to speak again!

It’s taken years but I am finally comfortable in front of a crowd. Here are some tips for anyone considering hiding in the bathroom when they are invited to speak to a group.

1. Prepare and practice - if you know what you are going to say and you practice (I suggest in front of a mirror) you’ll do a better job.

2. Know who you are talking to- how old are they? How many will there be? What percentage are men and what percentage are women? What you say will change based on who your audience is.

3. Know your environment- this isn’t always possible, but when it is find out what the layout of the room you are speaking in looks like. One of the events I spoke at last week was in a computer lab. Half my audience was on one side of the room, there were computers in the middle and then the other half of the audience was on the other side.  I had planned to use a powerpoint but logistics made that impossible. Which brings me to the next tip….

4. Expect the unexpected and go with it. Right before I went into speak I went to the bathroom and discovered I had worn leopard print panties under a dress that was too shear. The panties showed. Instead of freaking out I told the audience what I’d done and we all had a good laugh. When I finished my speech I told them I knew they were all going to be staring at my backside when I left the room to see if I was telling the truth and rather that there was no way I was going to give them the satisfaction. Then I backed out of the room. They loved it and I love the sound of laughter.

5. Remember your audience is people too. I don’t try and invision everyone in their underwear but I do remind myself that everyone out there is human just like me.

6. Pray. I always ask God for guidance and strength and He always provides.

7. Think of the worst thing you’ve ever been through and tell yourself that public speaking doesn’t even come close to whatever it was.  For me it was the last year of my mother’s life. Watching a loved one go through cancer treatment and lose their battle is unbelievably hard….public speaking no longer holds the power of fear over me because it’s not the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do.

8. Speak clearly and enunciate. There’s nothing worse than having people watch you and they aren’t able to understand what you are saying.

9. Find two or three people in your audience who are responsive and make eye contact with them. Focus on the people who are really getting into what you are saying. The rest of the audience will follow, or most of them will. Some people are sour pusses and won’t ever smile.

10. Relax and have fun. If you do so will your audience!

Yesterday I walked past a magnolia tree, then I stopped and turned around and went back.  The blooms smelled absolutely wonderful. I took my camera out of my purse and snapped this picture.  Magnolia blossoms always make me remember my cousins wedding. Many years ago we used these flowers to decorate the church where my cousin married her high school sweetheart.  There were Magnolia blooms in the windows surrounding candles. It was a simple wedding but beautiful.

Often I am in too big of a rush to get to the next place or check off the next thing on my list to stop and smell much of anything unless it really demands my attention.  But yesterday I took the time to admire God’s handiwork and smell the sweet frangrance of nature’s perfume and give thanks for blessings that I often take forgranted.

Later in the day I stepped in a pile of dog doo. That got my attention too, but you know if you concentrate on the sweetness of life and the beauty of something as simple as a magnolia blossom, you can get through the stinky moments more easily.

These pictures were made this past weekend. They are proof I am not a professional photographer and never will be. The first one is my son and his daughter at the playground. She can swing as long as daddy is willing to push! The other picture is of my nephew Thomas. Doesn’t his dessert look yummy? Bill is watching him eat it and wishing he had the metabolism of a 17 year old. How do I know? Because I was wishing the same thing!

Today is the 14th, so it’s less than one month to the wedding! I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone and getting to be with my friends and family.  My friend Mahdavi is from India and we went to dinner with her and her family the other night at the new restaurant in Glasgow, The Station (really good). We were talking about the wedding and she said in India it takes three days to complete a wedding!  I about fell out of my chair.  I wouldn’t last three days!  She said it was a lot of fun and there are lots of ceremonies and rituals that they perform during those three days. 

I really hope everyone comes and stays in Kentucky as long as they can, stay even longer than three days, but the wedding will be kept to under one hour-and that’s a promise!