Another day

I’m going to make this quick. Mainly because I have a goal to get in bed at a decent hour and that isn’t going to happen if I get into writing a lot of nonsense.

But here are a few things that I thought y’all might want to know about.

1. I’m going to be in Houston this weekend at a new LifeWay event called Abundance. My excitement knows no bounds because it’s going to be the trifecta of time with friends, hearing some amazing speakers, and eating guacamole at one of my favorite restaurants.

The good news is it’s not too late to go if you’re anywhere near Houston on Friday and Saturday. Click here to find out more information.

And, if you go, I really hope you’ll come say hi and not judge me because I hadn’t been to the dentist in three years before this past week.

2. Dave Barnes, who might be one of my favorites ever, has a new album that came out last week called Stories To Tell. And you can download it on iTunes right now for $9.99.

Y’all it is so good. SO GOOD. In fact, it’s almost all I’ve listened to since I first got it.

And no one is paying me to say this. I just want to share the love. Get it. It will make your entire springtime. Maybe even your summer.

3. I believe that I have mentioned once or eight thousand times that we are big fans of the Duck Commanders at our house. Which is why we were thrilled to discover they have a new show on A&E called Duck Dynasty.

We watched the first one last night and I think I laughed from start to finish. It is genius. You have to watch it. I think I want to move to Louisiana and live next door to them.

4. This is Caroline. Holding a tortoise that she found at the ranch.

I really don’t know what else to say.

Except that I’m glad it didn’t make it’s way back to our house.

And that P just corrected me and told me it’s not a tortoise, it’s a turtle. I appreciate that he thinks that means something to me.

Y’all have a lovely Thursday.

I didn’t really plan it but this has turned out to be a week of maintenance on myself. Which has really come just in time because I’ve begun to notice that I’m waking up in the morning looking like Jack Sparrow.

And when I say Jack Sparrow, I don’t mean in the dreamy Johnny Depp from 21 Jump Street kind of way. I mean like a hungover pirate with dreadlocks and permanent dark circles around my eyes. I’m not sure what is happening.

But, pending more research, I’m choosing to believe that the dark circles are from the lasting power of my new mascara and not from being forty years old.

On Monday I woke up to the cruel reality that is a school day after Daylight Savings Time when it’s still dark outside. I packed Caroline’s lunch, helped her get dressed and got her to school on time. Then I came home and drank a cup of coffee which hurt my tooth that had decided to become sensitive to hot and cold over the weekend.

Fortunately, I’d made an appointment with a new dentist for Monday morning at 9:00 in anticipation that my tooth wasn’t going to feel better. So I brushed and flossed because I wanted to make a good first impression and drove to the dentist.

They’d asked me to come in early to fill out new patient paperwork which doesn’t take too long when you don’t have dental insurance. And I came to a crossroads of conscience when I got to the part that asked me when I’d last had my teeth cleaned.

Do I admit that it had been at least three years? Maybe four? And that part of the reason I was at a new dentist was because I was too ashamed to go back to my old dentist and face up to my poor dental hygiene ways?

In my defense, I used to be a faithful twice a year girl. But the trauma from my adult orthodontia and getting four teeth pulled with questionable anesthesia left me scarred and a little reticent to let anyone near my mouth unless they were holding a bag of Oreos.

So I sat in that chair, weighing my options. And then I lied. I lied like a big lying liar. I put that it had been about a year since my last dental visit. Which is technically true if you round up by three years.

I’m just glad that I actually have started flossing every day so I didn’t have to lie twice. Because once? Acceptable. Twice? Probably straight to hell where you’ll spend eternity in a dentist’s chair.

The sweet dental hygienist came in and I told her about my tooth pain. She took x-rays and then called in the dentist for him to take a quick look. He said everything looked good from what he could see, but there was a possibility the tooth could be dying.

Well. That does not sound good.

I asked if we could replace it with a gold one to further my resemblance to Jack Sparrow. I don’t know why he didn’t answer me.

Anyway, the dental hygienist began to clean my teeth and I immediately realized that she either knew I lied about how long it had been since I’d been to the dentist or that I have some kind of condition that causes excessive plaque build up. It was a wonder that she could keep cleaning my teeth without the chair bursting into flames because I was a LIAR, LIAR PANTS ON FIRE.

But, to her credit, she just gently said that my next visit would be better if I came back after six months. And, to MY credit, I was cavity-free. Thus, my record of ONE CAVITY EVER still remains. I wish I could get a trophy. Or maybe a plaque. Get it? Plaque. It’s dental humor.

The sore tooth remains a mystery. It appeared alive and well on the x-rays and the roots are fine. He suggested that I might be clenching my teeth in my sleep. Which is the same diagnosis that many of y’all gave me FOR FREE in the comments. If only you knew how to clean my teeth I could save a fortune.

So he filed it down a little bit to try to readjust my bite and said to give it a week. I’ll keep you posted. It’s all so suspenseful. And possibly a new low that I just wrote over 700 words about my teeth.

Then yesterday I got my hair cut because my hair was out of control. I nearly took to Twitter with my internal bangs/no bangs dilemma, but decided I had no business getting bangs with hot weather on the horizon. That never works out for anyone. I need to have the option to get all my hair off my face and so I opted for long, side-swept shorter pieces that I can still pin back which will keep me from wanting to throw my hair brush at the mirror and cry about the unfairness of life and bad hair decisions.

And this morning I have my annual exam scheduled.

That’s all I’ll say about that.

Who knew being a pirate required so much maintenance?

I know I said that I’d update y’all on the road trip today. And I totally meant it. But I forgot that today is my day to make sure you know about the in(RL) Conference.

And, trust me, you want to know about it.

It stands for In (Real Life) Conference and it’s hosted by the women at (in)Courage. It’s all about a chance to go beyond just blogs and connect in real life on April 27-28th. Because as great as the internet is, we all need a chance to be with real people and live life outside the computer.

You can view a video with more information here.

You can read more about it here.

You can register here.

When else can you have all the fun of a conference without having to get on an airplane where you might be wedged uncomfortably between two strangers while you eat a small serving of honey-roasted peanuts?

Speaking of real life, I have a little girl who’s waiting for me to get off the computer.

I promise tomorrow will include a full recap of the trip thus far.

If I can figure out how to reduce it something less than a novel.

On Friday afternoon we loaded up these three and hit the open road.

And I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

But right now I’m still in the midst of all the fun.

And recovering from losing an hour on Saturday night.

Yesterday morning I had to take the stay wag to the Volvo dealership to figure out my blinker/tail light situation. And P also pointed out that the speaker on the driver’s side door was out. I can guarantee that I could have driven my car for the next 864 years and never noticed that.

So I dropped Caroline off at school and drove to the dealership. Honestly, I was glad to have something to get me up and out of the house first thing in the morning. I’m not sure what happened but I think the process of writing the book turned me into more of an introvert than I was before. In fact, I told a friend yesterday that I’m one step away from being a hermit. That step being growing a long beard.

(Fortunately, I am being proactive about the long beard. I used my Sally Hansen hair removal on my upper lip last night and, judging by the way it burned like a fire in the Sahara desert, I believe I am now mustache-free.)

The problem is that my hermit-like ways combined with a week of having a sick child have made me lethargic. On Monday I even contemplated going to see the doctor to get checked for mono. But then I realized I don’t think I have mono so much as I’m just ready for Spring Break and a little break from the routine.

Anyway, after I dropped my car off and got the loaner car, I thought I’d stop by Joann’s Fabrics to check out the prices on white duck fabric. You’ll be relieved to know this isn’t fabric printed with ducks as I once thought, but just a sturdy white fabric that you use to make slipcovers. Because I’ve decided I want to get white slipcovers made for our couch.

I’ve also decided that I want to paint the living room, dining room, and kitchen a soft shade of gray. I realize that this will make the third time I’ve painted my kitchen in the last two years, but I really think this could be the one. Which explains a lot about how I dated back in my single days.

It really is Pinterest’s fault. All this obsessing about how I want to redecorate the house. And the fact that we have a T.V. sitting on my antique church pew because it doesn’t fit anywhere else. My whole plan started with just wanting some built-in cabinetry but has extended to the couch and the walls and new throw pillows and pictures for the walls.

Of course all I’ve done so far is spend more time on Pinterest pinning a bunch of rooms that appeal to me. Because that is SO MUCH EASIER than actually buying several gallons of paint and hiring a carpenter and having the upholsterer come out and pick up my couch cushions.

Here are a few of my favorite idea rooms. Because I would like you to join me in my obsession.

 

Yes. I would like some combination of all those rooms in my living room and dining room that currently look nothing like any of these photos. Well, except for the antlers. The antelope of the Lord ensures that we have the antlers covered.

And P has already nixed the tufted leather ottoman as a replacement for our current coffee table because he thinks it’s a dumb idea and we’ll just end up with a bunch of food and stuff spilled in all those tufts. To which I proposed a tray to set upon the ottoman. But he would rather continue to place one of my decorative pillows on our wooden coffee table every night and use it as a makeshift ottoman.

This thrills me to no end.

All this to say that Joann’s Fabrics wasn’t open yet so I went to Target instead and looked at their decorative housewares and felt overwhelmed and just went home. Actually, I stopped by Old Navy first and bought a cute skirt. Then I went home. To be a hermit and contemplate growing a long beard.

Then I went to lunch with Gulley and vowed to get out of my hermit-like rut. I am ready to re-enter the real world. And to buy paint. And see about getting some built-ins made.

Although I’m still overwhelmed because what comes first? Should I paint first? Which means that none of my furniture will really match the paint until I get slipcovers made? Or do we do the built-ins first? Which means that I’ll have to try to paint around them?

It kind of makes my head hurt.

And so I maybe I’ll do what I’ve done for the last two months.

I’ll just think about it some more.

Which, in the end, probably makes P happy because it’s free. And means he still has a few more months of putting his feet on my decorative throw pillows.

P had a meeting at our church last night so Caroline and I were on our own for dinner. I told her we could go anywhere she wanted. She chose Luby’s.

And she was genuinely surprised that Luby’s was totally empty when we walked through the doors at 6:00 p.m. because she has no appreciation for the fact that the majority of Luby’s patrons eat at 4:30 and are home watching old reruns of Murder She Wrote by 6:00.

So we ate our LuAnn platters and caught up on the day. Actually, I listened to Caroline’s running dialogue about the injustice of fractions and her thoughts on Harry Potter and how she wants to let her hair get really long and that she likes the smell of the new stuff I put in my hair and did I know that they threw piles of weeds at each other during recess and one of her classmates said that they shouldn’t do that because it hurts Mother Nature and Caroline responded with “Who cares? Mother Nature isn’t real. I’ll tell you who made these weeds. G – O – D.”

Which reminded me of a youth group skit I saw one time where the kids sang “You down with G-O-D, yeah you know me” and confirmed forever my belief that it generally works out best for everyone when Christian culture doesn’t try to rip off pop culture.

Anyway, the conversation was lovely. But the food.

I don’t know when I’ll accept that Luby’s is a far cry from the Luby’s of my youth.

I loved Luby’s Cafeteria from the days when it was still Romano’s Cafeteria. And then it was Luby/Romano’s Cafeteria. And then the Romanos must have gotten kicked to the curb because it became just Luby’s.

We’d go there after church on Sundays and wait in that long line. And I’d order the chicken fried steak which was known by its fancy name, breaded beef cutlet. With cream gravy and mashed potatoes and fried okra.

And jello in a fancy glass dish for dessert.

It was the meal by which I judged all other meals for a long time.

The best part was that Luby’s was a constant, unchanging presence in my life. Kind of like if God wore a hairnet and scooped out delicious mac and cheese.

(I actually feel that there will be mac and cheese aplenty in heaven. But no hairnets. Those will be reserved for hell.)

Even when I went to college, there was a Luby’s right on the corner of the Texas A&M campus with an interior all decorated in maroon. And anytime I craved a delicious meal lovingly prepared by women in hairnets, I would beg my roommates to head to Luby’s with me.

But at some point after that it began to go downhill. The fried okra wasn’t the same. The breaded beef cutlet became a little flavorless and chewy. And the mashed potatoes tasted a little too instant.

Apparently I wasn’t alone in the end of my love affair because, a few years after P and I got married, they closed a bunch of Luby’s, including the original one that was down the street from our first apartment.

But I held out hope when they were bought out by a bigger restaurant chain. Alas, all this brought was higher prices, a drive-through window, and an attempt to make Luby’s cool. It’s not supposed to be cool.

It’s a cafeteria.

Yet I still get lured in by Luby’s from time to time. The siren song of the mac and cheese is too powerful to resist. And I always hold out the hope that this time, THIS TIME, it will be like the Luby’s of yore.

Then I sit down with my LuAnn platter and am faced with the cold, hard reality of a study in culinary mediocrity. And I vow that this will probably be my last time to eat there.

(Please picture Scarlett O’Hara in the field at Tara shaking her fist at the sky.)

Until I crave the taste of a home-cooked meal. And remember that a home-cooked meal these days requires that I cook it since I am the cook in my home. And then I lament the fact that there aren’t any restaurants around who just serve good old-fashioned food that tastes like home.

Which brings me back to Luby’s. And the taste of disappointment.

Have y’all ever had a restaurant turn on you but you can’t let go? Am I alone in this journey?

Is there a light at the end of this cafeteria line?

(I don’t even know what that means.)