At least he was prepared.

As I walked into the Library day before yesterday, I noticed a shirtless man slouching down the sidewalk towards me, beer belly jiggling with each step. As he reached the Library door, he fished a wadded up t-shirt out of his pocket and pulled it on as he walked inside.

My day was so much improved by yon show of just how classy Tippah County is.

a hazy summer evening at the County Fair.

The wilting heat,

the smell of grease and cigarettes,

the shaky rides,

the enamored couples wandering aimlessly about, hand in hand,

the toothless and liberally tattooed workers, (seriously, almost all of them were toothless, and every one of them had at least three tattoos,)

the sickly sweet, sticky cotton candy sticking to lips and fingers...

the Fair is in town.


With friends and plenty of wet wipes, it's a blast. Maybe I'll remember the wet wipes next time.


At the Fun Slide, we did get some pretty strange looks from all the wee kiddos in line behind us. But it was totally worth it.

and on that note, here's a truly delightful thought shared by Julia as we settled into our seats on one of the spinning rides -

Julia: ::leaning her head back:: "Mmmm... just think of all the lice that are probably living in these seats."

it's my favorite compliment, by the way.

as I walked out of our tiny post office after mailing a package...

post office lady: "Bye-bye, little Kathy. Girl, you look just like your mama."




I didn't know anything about her, (except that she works at the p.o.,) but it turns out her sister was in Mama's graduating class, so she knew Mama back in high school. I love living in a small town.

You could say it runs in the family.

I'm sure lots of y'all think I'm weird, especially after reading random musings like this and this.

And that's okay. I have peace with that. (Because secretly, I know it's really you who is the weird one.)

But I want to assure all and sundry that I come by this strange propensity to be curious about perfectly common things, and then make up stories about them, honestly. I suppose it's just in my blood.

Case in point:

while at Joseph and Andrea's house, curling my hair in the bathroom, Joseph walked in and said,

"I don't know how y'all's hair doesn't shrivel up and die with all the stuff you do to it."

me: "Well, I put lots of good things on my hair, too."

Joseph: "Yeah, like shampoo with fruit in it. Ya' know, the shampoo industry has struck gold with this whole 'add a little bitty splash of fruit juice to our product and then market it as essence of banana' or some such exotic name, and then every woman out there rushes to buy it. I wonder whose idea it was to begin with? The shampoo people's? Or was there a bumper crop of papayas one year, and the growers got together to talk about how they could get rid of all those extra papayas? One would say, 'Oh, let's put papaya juice in motor oil!' and then another would say, 'No, that might hurt the cars. I know! Let's put fruit in shampoo!' And thus a star was born."

Yeah, Joseph. I'm sure that's exactly how it happened.

family, warmth, food, and tradition - all in one battered book.

You know how there are certain staples in everybody's home? Things that never change, except to become more loved over time, things that are used daily, or at least weekly, and have their own subtle part in shaping the fabric of a home?

Our Better Homes and Garden cookbook is one of those dear, essential things.

Every time I see its honest cover, red-checked and worn, with little nicks and tears and stains, I feel comforted. And hungry. My! Some of those recipes just make you want to fall on your knees and give thanks for the blessing of cooking.

(Or they might make you want to throw up. Potato-Beet salad, anyone? How about some delicious Sparkling Beet Cups? Or jellied chicken salad? Gross.)

It was given to Mama about a year and a half after she got married, as a thank you gift for letting someone stay with them in Germany. It's been a go-to for all of us ever since... I've learned to make pie crust following its recipe, (which has been used so many times that particular page has loosened all together and now has to be folded carefully in after each use,) I've seen it out on the counter, open to one spot or another, almost every time we're expecting guests, and all of my married siblings own a copy of it.

My point being, it's so much more than a tattered cookbook.

It's a tradition, a little tangible piece of our family's day-to-day life.

I love little pieces like that. They make me fall in love with common, simple things we all take for granted, but influence us more than we guess. And most of all, they cause me to dream of having such bits and pieces woven through my own home's tapestry some day.

"Thou hast made him exceeding glad with Thy countenance." - Ps. 31:6

My heart for gladness springs,
It cannot more be sad,
For very joy it laughs and sings,
Sees naught but sunshine glad.

-P. Gerhardt

And isn't this truly the case for the believer? Now, of course Gerhardt isn't saying, (and no Christian who has lived long could say,) that everything is sunshine and roses and ease once we are in Christ. That isn't so.

But it is true that there is a deep-rooted gladness, a sweet and precious joy, which will always be in the heart of Christ's followers... because of Christ Himself. We have no cause to be sad unto despair when He is our Comforter. There is no room for fear unto hopelessness when He is our Captain. No hurt, physical or emotional, will be so great that it cannot be soothed by He who is the great Physician.

We will fear, be sorrowful, and have pain. But Christ is ours forever. He is with us through every day. How then shall we not have joy and gladness because of our Saviour?

sneakiness isn't her strong point.

while at the pool:

Charlie: "KK, will you let me drink this pool water?"

Me: "No."

Charlie: "Then will you shut your eyes for a minute?"

Me: "Why would I do that?"

Charlie: (matter-of-factly) "So I can drink the pool water."






p.s. the backs of my legs are sunburned. boo.

Well, SOMEBODY has to think these things through.

Am I the only person who feels a trifle uncomfortable that toothpaste tubes have a warning on them, telling you not to swallow any toothpaste, and "if any is accidentally swallowed, contact a poison control center right away"?

Hello?

This stuff is going into our mouths... being rubbed on our teeth... covering our tongues. Do I really want to know that it's harmful if swallowed?

What if you were a really obsessive person who always took every single thing you read at face value?

::brush, brush, brush:: "AAAHH!! Was that a bit of tooth paste slipping down my throat? Did more than I realize get swallowed? Am I dying?! Is my throat about to explode? Or rot?? Should I call poison control? Will they just laugh at me? What if they tell me it's okay and just to go on with my life, and then I take their advice, but they were actually wrong and I collapse into a coma?"

Okay, now, there probably aren't a whole ton of people out there who even read the back of the toothpaste tube; (I'm just weird like that,) but I can't help being curious about all this.

Why are we brushing our teeth with such unhealthy chemicals? Is it all a vast dentistry conspiracy? Are they exaggerating the magnitude of the don't-swallow-this-toothpaste part? Or are they downplaying how bad it really is?

And you have to understand that I'm pretty intimately connected with my toothpaste. When I'm stressed, I go brush my teeth. After I cry, I brush my teeth. Before I leave for anywhere, I brush my teeth. When I get home, one of the first things I do is lather my toothbrush up and scrub away all the faults and fears of the day. It's like my own personal version of Linus' security blanket - except better. I'm refreshed and rejuvenated by this amazing, magical paste.

And now it's potentially so poisonous they recommend the poison control center if a bit accidentally gets swallowed?

I'm disillusioned.