Dull Moments

I just remembered about a pair of shoes I bought right before we moved . In a moment of perfect, random clarity, I remembered how much I liked them and where they were packed, and where that box was now. I ran upstairs, directly to the box they were in and pulled them out. It was like Christmas morning. Ah, brown leather, sturdy (but cute) soles, little clasps, comfy and cozy and perfect for fall. It's the small joys, isn't it?

Diet Coke, Annie's Mac & Cheese, and broccoli is probably my favorite lunch. And as I munched today, I was pondering something that's been on my mind for a while now, something I've been thinking about over Diet Coke and Mac & Cheese. From 1 Corinthians 9 But we did not use this right. On the contrary, we put up with anything rather than hinder the gospel of Christ. I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. Do you know why I have been thinking about this? Because, not to sound rude, but I think we generally suck at this as the Church. I mean, some people get it right and I'm not trying to be mean or unhelpful. It's just lately, I've been personally dealing with this problem a lot, and seeing it a lot, and hearing sermons on it a lot, and all that. So I get it, that means I'm to be more convicted of it than any of you reading this. Thi...

Robert came home today, walked into the kitchen, and paused as he came upon this sight... ...and sort of snorted-laughed to himself. "What?" I asked, looking confused. "Um... I know I told you to use your Spanish to try to make some good money, but really Chrissy..." He responded. That's right. There was a scale and a couple hundred dollars in cash, neither of which we had when he left for work today. My explanation? The scale isn't mine, and the money is from my drugs. Both of which are true, none of which are illegal, and all of which cracked us up. The scale was actually something I borrowed to make his (non-drugged) birthday cake, and the money was a refund from an Rx that our insurance screwed up. We were laughing so hard. You can't make this up. And really, this blog does not condone illegal or drug related activity.

Let's face it guys: I know quite a few of my friends (and family) are thinking, "Why / how can she be so happy to have moved back to... Indiana?" It's okay, you aren't judging me (or I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt). It's a valid question. I realize that as someone who has traveled a lot, lived in a lot places, and has some strange (and some times liberal) views, it would seem odd that I'm happy to live here. Let me tell you the things I am happy to have back. Also known as "Why you should become my neighbor, because I love you". 1. Our price of living here is awesome. We have a big house. We can afford it. It's in a decent area. And we still afford the cars, the boat, having fun, living our lives. We can afford to be generous . We can get a bigger, nicer house, too. And for all you who think you wouldn't trade your place for Indianapolis just for the cost of living... well... 2. There can be a lot to do here. You have ...

We. are. moved. YES. Overall, this move went as smoothly as I think a move can go. There were no emergencies. No one died. We didn't, like, forget Otis. They came, they packed, they moved us. A big shout out to the Bekins' local branches in both Nashville and Indy for making this a great move. We had so much help this move. When we moved to Nashville, it was just Robert (who has a major back injury) and me (who is... uh... a weak girl) who had to get everything done. The moving company (which was terrible) got us there, but everything else was up to us. And Robert started working, like, 60 hours a week his first day there. So by us, I mean me. On the way back, we had a place to stay. No worrying about the air mattress or the bed, or a shower or towels. My in-laws took us and Otis in and we didn't have to worry about anything. My parents came down and worked their rear ends off unpacking us. My dad installed a shelf, broke down boxes, helped Robert with the heavy stuff. My m...

I'm glad to be back home. I have more on my "fun" events on my calendar for the next few weeks than I did the whole time I lived in TN. One of the things I love is having good people to spend time with. Since I am not working (yet) I invited my sister-in-law (also just moved and job hunting) over for breakfast. WHAT COULD GO WRONG, RIGHT?! I'm watching my pull apart cinnamon sugar breakfast bread brown perfectly (recipe via pinterest.com, http://zoomyummy.com/2011/07/23/cinnamon-sugar-pull-apart-bread/ ) while scrambling a few eggs and I hear the door open. I had left the door open for my sis-in-law, so I didn't think anything of it and let Otis the Dog trot over to greet her. Lowering the temperature on the eggs, I walked around the corner to say hi. At least this was a delicious success. My first clue that something was wrong was when I saw a woman's reflection in the window, holding a baby carrier and I thought, "Why in the world would she have a BABY ...