"Do you think he plans it all out, or just makes it all up as he goes?"

There's a lot of negative comments that could be, (and have been,) made about the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, or as Mama likes to call them, "those heathen movies."

Now, personally, I really enjoy them. The scenery, the amazing music, Johnny Depp, the adventures, the abrupt plot twists, and just the whole pirate aura make Pirates, especially the first one, high on my favorites list.

But whether you intensely love POTC or despise it with a burning hatred, you have to admit that whoever wrote the dialogue is brilliant. I think the movies probably surpass even Princess Bride in the awesome quotes department.

So, here are a few of my favorites.

Will Turner: "Where's Elizabeth?"
Jack Sparrow: "She's safe, just like I promised. She's all set to marry Norrington, just like she promised. And you get to die for her, just like you promised. So we're all men of our word really... except for, of course, Elizabeth, who is in fact, a woman."

"Were I in a divulgatory mood, what would I be divulging?" -Jack Sparrow

Jack Sparrow: "One question about your business, boy, or there's no use going: This girl... how far are you willing to go to save her?"
Will Turner: (vehemently) "I'd die for her."
Jack Sparrow: "Oh good. No worries then."

"I think we've all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically." -Jack Sparrow

(I think that one is my very favorite of all.)

"Me, I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly, it's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly stupid." -Jack Sparrow

Jack: "Why not? We are very much alike you and I. I and you. Us."
Elizabeth: "Except for a sense of honor and decency and a moral center. And personal hygiene."

Captain Jocard: "Who is this traitor?"
Barbossa: "Not likely one among us."
Elizabeth: "Where's Will?"
Jack Sparrow: "Not among us."

"I don't have the face for tentacles." -Jack Sparrow

"If I might lend a machete to your intellectual thicket..." -Jack Sparrow

(I'm going to start saying that whenever possible, by the way.)

"The enemy has opted for oblivion." -Lord Beckett


Lord Beckett: "You're mad!"

Jack Sparrow: "Thank goodness for that, because otherwise this would probably never work."

We may have to start keeping a hoe by our bed. And using it with regularity.

Last night, as I peered under the bed to find something, I discovered that one of the sticky traps we keep there had captured, not one, but two, lizards.

In our bedroom.

Underneath our bed.

Two. Lizards.

Now, on one hand, I'm delighted that they were caught. Because I'm sure they had dark and evil purposes in mind, because they're oh-so-closely related to snakes, and all snakes are practically demons. Yes, they are. Don't dispute me. Lizards are okay outside - often they're even pretty - but inside? Uh, uh. I don't even think so.

But there's a downside to seeing them cold and stiff on the sticky trap. I like knowing they're caught, but actually seeing them there lets me know that they were there. And where some come, more very likely come. More that perhaps are smarter than their now-dead relatives and manage to avoid the sticky traps. Which means they scamper merrily underneath our bed. And perhaps climb up into the bed. Where we are innocently sleeping.

What if this is happening every night?

I mean, if there had only been one lizard! I would've thought, "oh, a stray lizard wandered through and just happened to come in our room and explore under our bed." That would not have been the best thought ever, but it would be a bushel basket better than seeing two, and thinking that this probably isn't a random occurrence. It may be normal for lizards to come into our room. And where lizards can come, sn...

sna...

snak...

...sorry, I can't even say the word, it's such a horrible thought.

*Those things* can come, too.

Do they make mosquito netting, except instead of keeping mosquitoes out, it's designed to keeps lizards and... their relatives... out? Because I'm not really feeling secure and relaxed cuddled up in my nice soft bed anymore, thinking about the unfortunate likelihood of sharing my nice soft bed with a cold, slimy, slithery creature.

Wow, I'll be getting some great rest tonight.

-a notice of Little Consequence-

Something is coming to this small sliver of the internet, and I can't tell you exactly when, and I'm not going to tell you exactly what, but I will tell you this: I'm excited about it.

There.

Now you can go scratch your head in befuddlement.

excuse me while I throw up.

Mama: "Boys, what do y'all want for a snack when we get home?"

Ethan: "SpaghettiOs and ice cream. Oh, and marshmallows!"

introducing... Nora Kathleen!

-adorable: check

-chubby cheeks: check, check

-cowlick: check

-pretty blue eyes: check

-totally kissable: check

-has KK wrapped around her tiny finger already: check



Oh, how I love my new niece. She's just darling.

And finally - FINALLY - I no longer hold the status of biggest baby born into our family. At 9lbs. 12oz., Nora has my 9lbs. 2oz. beat. It's with great joy that I pass that torch on to you, Nora Kate. Carry it with honor.

And only one of us is blond!

We got a call this morning from my bro, Joseph, who was on his way to the hospital with Andrea, who is in labor. (Nora Kathleen is here now! I'm so excited!)

So, mid-morning, Mama headed off to Memphis, leaving my sister-in-law, Karen, and me in charge of getting things ready for the fifty people who are coming tonight for our fourth of July cook out. Now, there weren't a lot of things to get ready - just stick the baked beans in the oven, make the homemade ice cream, and slice some tomatoes. Not a big deal, right?

Weeeelll....

I mixed up the ice cream, no problem. Stuck it in the ice cream freezer, shoveled a ton of ice in, added lots of rock salt, (Mama said to use half the box; by the end I had used it all. Sorry, Mama.) and let the freezer do its work.

But what seemed like only 20 minutes later, (in reality it was about 30,) the motor quit. Now, I don't know much about making ice cream. But I do know that when the motor quits, one of two things is true: the ice cream is done, or something is very wrong. Ice cream takes about 45 minutes to freeze, according to mama, so Karen and I felt totally sure it wasn't done. Ergo, something must be very wrong. We call Mama. She isn't much help. We unplug it, wait a minute, plug it back in. Nothing happens. We try turning the container ourselves, thinking it might be stuck. Nothing happens. We repeat the above about five times. We call Laura, who has never made ice cream either. Trey is grilling and can't come over. We take all the ice and salt out, put it into buckets, rearrange the container of ice cream liquid, add all the ice and salt again, cup by cup, and plug it in. Nothing happens.

"The motor must be bad," says I.

"Must be," says Karen.

"And that was Laura's motor, 'cause ours already gave out this summer," says I.

I called my cousin who lives right across the road. No, she doesn't have an ice cream maker. But she thinks her sister, my other cousin, who lives a little further down the road, might have one. I call her. It's in her attic. She'll get it.

Meanwhile, Karen puts the baked beans in the oven while I'm out of the room. She is a great cook, but has never cooked baked beans before, and Mama told her they were ready to go; so she stuck them right in.

Saran Wrap and all.

Oh, yes.

Five minutes later, I smell something really funky coming from the oven.

As I peel the melted, stinky plastic off the beans, I remember that Mamaw has an ice cream freezer. So, I get her motor, re-ajust the ice cream, plug it in.

Nothing.

Then, for the first time, we take the lid off.

Yeah. The ice cream is done.

Has been all along.

Love, True Love.

Daddy and Mama taught me what love looks like.

They met at Camp when she was thirteen and he was fifteen, and they became best friends long before they fell in love.

But fall in love they did.


Then, at the ripe old ages of 17 and 19, thirty-nine years ago today, they became one, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. And I'm here to say that they kept those vows. Kept them beautifully, and in such a way as to be an inspiration and blessing to everyone around them, especially us kids.


About a year after they married, Daddy was drafted, and they moved to Germany for two years. On the weekends they'd head off all over Europe in a little volkswagon, carrying picnics along with them to save money and camping wherever they could, including the grounds of an old castle in England. My oldest brother was born in Germany, and Mama likes to tell that he teethed on the gate at Buckingham Palace and dropped his pacifier off the Eiffel Tower.


They moved back to America a little before Anna was born, and for the next several years Daddy pastored various small churches... with Mama right along side of him, encouraging Daddy, ministering to the congregations, and raising four rambunctious children. (AnnMarie and I came a good many years later; in a sense, Mama and Daddy had two families, eleven years apart.)


Finally, they came home to Mississippi, (to my Mamaw's great delight, and theirs' too,) and Daddy helped start a little church. Eventually, Daddy began a tiny Christian school, and worked as principal and primary teacher for many years. Mama was a big part of that, too - not only did she get her oldest three kids out the door every morning, she also mothered most of the school kids too, since the school building was just a few steps away from our house. She even went so far as to teach algebra when the need arose, even though Daddy had to teach her the next day's lesson every night. (I get my non-existent math skills from my mama.)


My point is, through it all - through financial worries and rebellious teenagers, through their childrens' births to their childrens' weddings, to holding grandchildren, from often-complicated church situations to teething babies, from a special needs daughter to losing people they held so dear - they were in it together. Always together. They laughed, they cried, they struggled, they had fun, they matured, they served the Lord together.

I watched their love grow stronger and stronger through weeks of cancer, chemo, uncertainty, fear, and pain. They never stopped thinking and praying and trying to care for each other's hurts and difficulties, emotional and physical, even when Daddy was at his sickest.

And their love isn't dead now. When Mama talks about Daddy, I can still hear the love in her voice. When she looks at his picture, that love is still there. And I absolutely don't believe that Daddy's love for his soul mate ended when he went to live in Paradise.

I want to have a love like that for someone someday.

And I'm so grateful that I got to see true love, not the cheap Hollywood version, lived out before me every day of my life.

it's just how my mind works, okay?

Today, I was vacuuming. (I don't like vacuuming as well as I like sweeping; it's anti-climatic to not see the fruits of your efforts in a nice, nasty pile, but I still derive some satisfaction from it.)

Anyway, in a particularly dark and dusty corner of the dining room, the vacuum sucked up a dead cricket, which I wouldn't have found worthy of any attention, except that three seconds later a large kernel of popcorn followed the cricket. And I couldn't help but immediately associate the cricket and popcorn with the ancient burial rituals of the Egyptians. You know, when they would fill the grave with food to theoretically help the dead person survive on his journey to the afterlife? (Yeah, that philosophy is just jam packed with irony, but apparently it made tons of sense to them.)

So, if I was an ancient Egyptian, that's what I would've been doing to the cricket. Sending it sustenance in the form of a stale popcorn kernel to make its journey to the vacuum bag happy and hunger-free.

Yes, that's the kind of things I think about while vacuuming.

Why, yes, I am a homeschooler. How on earth did you guess?