tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9311280279998174672024-02-06T18:42:12.102-08:00Behind The BurLindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-85393121667578731972014-02-09T12:13:00.000-08:002014-02-09T13:05:13.947-08:00Brian Sterner, Rest In Peace<h1 class="quoteText" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
"Acts of creation are ordinarily reserved for gods and poets, but humbler folk may circumvent this restriction if they know how. To plant a pine, for example, one need be neither god nor poet; one need only own a shovel." -Aldo Leopold</h1>
The world seems a little darker this week, a little duller. My friend, Brian Sterner, left this earth on Sunday, Feb 2nd, at a little before 7PM. The evening before, he was extremely weak and could only speak in whispers, but his personality and sense of humor were as sharp as ever. He made jokes. We laughed. Before we left, we made sure he was completely comfortable, adding hundreds of pillows at every turn. I said to him, "OK, we're heading out now. Goodnight friend. Are you sure there's nothing else we can do for you?" to which he replied, "Can you leave a diagram of the way these pillows are because I think I have to pee." We all laughed as we removed every carefully placed pillow, and the process began all over again. We left reluctantly at midnight. I hugged his neck carefully and he whispered in my ear, "Take care of Kelley." I tried to tell him, "I will. She's my person. She's my best friend. I will take care of her." He said it one more time, clearly, with staccato, "Take. Care. Of. Kelley." I told him I would with tears in my eyes. I left him in the capable hands of Kelley and his best friend Jim.<br />
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The day he died, everything was different. He spoke only a few words in the morning and a few more in the afternoon. He focused mainly on breathing, but he was still present. He motioned for his glasses. He blinked when I asked if he wanted eye drops in his eyes or a swab in his mouth. People filtered in and out to see him, to say thank you's and I love you's and see you again someday's. He wanted things to be upbeat and he didn't want to see people cry. These were his last requests. Brian was not a demanding person, a leader not by brute strength but by quiet honor, and when he asked, people struggled to give him what he asked for and more. His friends and family recalled stories, mostly funny, happy stories with Brian as the instigator or main character. We laughed at his childhood and teenage antics. At one point we were reprimanded by the hospice staff. Positivity in spades, just what he had asked for. As the day wore on and his breathing became more labored, quiet solemness reigned. He passed peacefully with his mother and father at his side and Kelley softly telling him, "It's ok, Brian. I love you. You can go. It's ok. We'll be ok. Don't worry about us. You can go." A few minutes before 7, the light was gone from the room.<br />
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I remember the day I became a part of this story. I received the call in July one evening as I was making dinner. Terror in her voice, as Kelley, my best friend in the world, told me the unbelievable news. It's not pneumonia. It's stage 4 lung cancer. My first thoughts: How can this be? He's never been a smoker! He's a vegan! There must be some mistake! Yet there it was, the diagnosis; cancer cells on a slide from a biopsy cut from Brian's very lung. He started treatment as soon as he possibly could. His mantra, "I'm going to beat this. I'm going to live." I tried to encourage him. I thought to myself, If anyone is going to beat cancer, it will be this healthy, happy man, and I truly believed that. I still believe that in some ways, he did. He fought hard and he lost his life, but I cannot bring myself to say that cancer won. It may have taken his body from his life, but it did not take his life from his body. He truly lived, ever positive, even when he was in excruciating pain.<br />
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The cancer was invasive. From the moment it was first discovered, it was inoperable, and even with each radiation and chemotherapy, it continued to grow, invading his body like kudzu in the Georgia forest. He still had hope and maintained it until the very end. He had several walkers as the cancer had moved to his hips and the vertebrae in his lower back. His favorite walker was one that he had wrapped tape tightly around the silvery tubes. It was Superman tape, a testament to his strength and determination and a sign of his quirky personality and sense of humor. He did look a lot like superman; chiseled features, tall and healthy, not extremely thin. He was a gentle giant. Tall and lanky, although not awkward as some tall people tend to be. He had a rhythm to his speech. His gait had a bounce to it and his arms and hands spoke as he spoke, with a sway and a lilt. He was always thoughtful when he spoke, not quick to speak, and never in anger. I have never heard him say a disparaging word about another person. He was the kind of man who was filled with passion for nature and education, and although his passion overflowed and infected those around him, it was not pushy or loud. It was quiet and energizing and positive. His actions were a reflection of his words. I remember one day, I was eating dinner at their house and afterwards, I went to throw away a piece of plastic trash in the trash can. Brian never stopped the conversation. He didn't reprimand me or lecture me about the environment. He simply continued to talk as he walked to the trash can, removed the plastic and placed it in the recycling bin on their back porch. It was many lessons wrapped in one simple movement.<br />
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Be gentle with people. Lead by example. Be mindful about what you are putting back into the earth.<br />
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If only more people would teach that way. It was an easy way to learn.<br />
<br />
The memorial was yesterday, beautiful and poignant, and sorrowful, yet dotted with laughter as each person who spoke recounted stories about Brian, his beautiful hair, his candy addiction, his undeniably brightly colored life, and the way he loved other people, the way he loved Kelley, the way he loved the earth; unfillable shoes left empty.<br />
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Kelley recounted one story at his memorial that really impacted me. The radiation target was his brain and though he was obviously in crippling pain when all was finished, he said "Thank you. Thank you for helping me," and these people who had hurt him to help him, couldn't help but cry. Thank you is not something they hear very often. What a loss for the world; this simple, sweet, brilliant, thankful and humble soul. Kelley's plea was simple, "Help me help him live on. I can't do it on my own. He always said throughout this treatment that when all this was through, he wanted to be better, give more, help more people. So please do this, in honor of Brian, hug someone you love. Introduce yourself to a stranger. Tell someone you like their shoes. Tilt your head back and sing with abandon. Love people. Love the earth. Make the world a better place." In this way, Brian will live on through the lessons we've all learned from his life, either directly, or by stories told by others.<br />
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With every hug, handshake, bent knee, hand clutching trash from the ground, shovel of dirt patted around a sapling tree, the world will be a little brighter, a little lighter, and a little more like Brian.<br />
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<br />Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-2757410349983217462014-01-26T18:51:00.000-08:002014-01-26T18:51:42.966-08:00We Meet AgainSo this is where I start blogging again, as if I never stopped.<br />
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I could try to catch you up, but so much has happened that a list just wouldn't do it justice. So let's just pick up where we left off, like old friends meeting for coffee who haven't had a chance to catch up.<br />
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Yes, I'm still married to this guy.<br />
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Oh my baby is so adorable, and hardly a baby anymore. Let me show you 700 photos of her that don't do her justice because she's always on the move. She's a walking, talking, real life angel princess sent from Heaven and the most beautiful baby that has ever lived....not that I'm biased.<br />
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We still have two Labradors and love them to pieces. No, we didn't get rid of them because of the baby. They play well together and for the most part Kadence plays nice with them without need for correction. We have learned that although Kadence often says, "hey dog." and, much to Clover's chargrin, loves to "pet" their noses, she does not like to share her bed. Poor Ginger learned this the hard way.<br />
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We've moved back to our hometown, where we've bought a small home with a large back yard and are finally starting to feel settled in. The last year have been a whirlwind and I'm starting to slow my life back down from warp speed to living in the fast lane. One day I hope to slow down to a Sunday drive pace, but those days will be later on in our lives, when our children are not babies my debts do not weigh so heavy on our shoulders.<br />
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I feel as if my mood follows the seasons. Once the joy of Christmas slips away, I am left with a slight depression that I can't seem to shake until the sun begins to shine again. Sometimes, I can pound the sad haze away when my tennis shoes hitting the pavement. I'm still trying to fit all the puzzle pieces of my life back together since baby, graduation, and moving. For so long, exercise just didn't fit anywhere and I'm struggling to squeeze it in. I have to fit it in, for health and happiness.<br />
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I didn't make a single new year resolution this year, not to lose weight, or pay debts, or spend less time on facebook. I gave some thought to a few resolutions that I thought might make me more successful this year, things like; eat more slowly, eat more vegetables, stay off the couch when I get home from work. Of course, I have to tell you that today I've been under the weather and so naturally I've spent the day eating ramen noodles, looking at facebook and laying on the couch, sleeping and throwing toys and gold fish crackers to my daughter to keep her pacified. I don't even feel guilty about it....<br />
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well, maybe a little bit.<br />
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So here I am. Maybe this blogging bug will stick with me better this time around. If not, there's always next year.<br />
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<br />Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-90893943162355071972012-10-20T12:10:00.000-07:002012-10-20T12:10:05.986-07:00Every love story is beautiful, but ours is my favoriteKadence Arrabella Anderson is here. Right here. Sleeping soundly on my chest while I try to type. I'm not sure how to even begin the story of her birth. I still get choked up when I think of all that happened and all that has happened since. These moments have been fleeting and soon my time at home with her will be gone, but I can't think about that. It's too hard to type through tears.<br />
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It's true what they say about labor. I know it was painful, really painful, the most painful thing I've ever experienced, and yet, I don't remember most of it. I know that I had my eyes closed most of the time. Korey tells me that I threw up several times because of the pain. I remember that I didn't want anyone to touch me. I remember refusing pain medicine for 19 hours, but simultaneously praying that the doctor would come in unexpectedly and say I had to have a C-section. Mostly I remember Korey's voice at every contraction, full of concern and affection, helping me to relax, helping me get through one more. I will admit that I am proud that I went so long without an epidural, but I can't take full credit for it. Without all the love and support of my family, and especially Korey, I would've never been able to do it.<br />
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It was a surprise for us to be in labor that day, but not in the traditional sense. I had dreams of my water breaking at school or during the night, laboring at home for a while and then Korey driving madly to the hospital between contractions, but none of that was meant to be. My girl was past her due date and I had developed pre-eclampsia, something that I will admit I questioned when the doctor said it, but now, after losing over 30 lbs almost immediately after the birth, I am willing to admit that he was probably right. Thank heaven for good doctors who can see what mothers cannot. I went in expecting a normal visit, knowing that it would be my last doctors visit before the baby. We already had an induction date scheduled for the following monday if she didn't come on her own before then. I had expected to have a procedure done to jumpstart natural labor. The doctor seemed hurried and I wasn't quite sure why it was a total shock when he said, "No, I think it's a good day to have a baby. I've already called the hospital and they're expecting you. Don't even go home and get your hospital bag. Just go straight there and we'll start the induction." Immediately, the tears started flowing. I was excited, but I was also scared and feeling overwhelmed and underprepared, afraid of the pain and excited that we were finally going to meet our baby girl.<br />
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They started the Pitocin drip at 12:00PM on October 3rd. The first few hours were not too painful with the exception of an intense backache. Our sweet baby girl was facing the wrong way. As I said, I don't remember too much of the following labor. It became more and more intense and I escaped more and more inside of myself. By 7:00 AM the following morning, I had been in transition, the hardest part of labor, for 4 hours, but I could not progress the last centimeter required to start pushing. The doctor came in to check me one last time and said I was still at 9 centimeters dilated. I started crying and he said that I was so tense that it could be preventing me from progressing and that if I did take the epidural it might help me progress that last centimeter and avoid a C-section. I immediately begged for the epidural, anything to make the backache go away, which to me was worse than the contractions. The epidural provided immediate relief and I was assured that because it was done late in labor, it wouldn't slow down the contractions and prolong labor. I was able to dilate that last centimeter and I pushed for an hour and a half before the doctor said the C-section was imminent. I was scared. I had never had major surgery before, but I was so excited to finally meet my baby, the one I had worked so hard for.<br />
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Kadence Arrabella Anderson entered our world at 12:01PM October 4th, exactly 24 hours and 1 minute after the start of the induction. She weighed in at 9lbs 2oz and was 21 inches long.<br />
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I was upset that I wouldn't get to lay with her skin to skin and be the first to meet her, but the charge nurse came to the OR with us and laid her on me as soon as she was assessed, and so we met, before she was whisked away so that I could be stitched back together again.<br />
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They had a little trouble stopping the bleeding but after more than an hour of stitching I was able finally go meet my daughter properly. It made my heart melt to know that during that hour, Korey had been the one to bathe her and that they put off putting goop in her eyes and giving medications until I could be there with her. Korey had taken off his shirt and rocked with her, skin to skin so that she wouldn't feel alone. It's easy to see, even now, why she responds the way she does to him. At times, just the sound of his voice can calm her.<br />
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So here we are, doing the best we can with this little life we've been blessed to take care of and amazed that she is actually ours.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Afaoo0q6PyLmJePwj4Uf6541LwAIMVpOjv6ALl39yGnIHGpP_F6jTLL3yZhly7w9AY28zjy4KT78NQOJHT2Sa0PDmQZQ_QXiJf4DdKh6SAEAA6sqd_ohotUBwRjoDd0gwXGZ43x-JA8/s1600/DSC_0531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Afaoo0q6PyLmJePwj4Uf6541LwAIMVpOjv6ALl39yGnIHGpP_F6jTLL3yZhly7w9AY28zjy4KT78NQOJHT2Sa0PDmQZQ_QXiJf4DdKh6SAEAA6sqd_ohotUBwRjoDd0gwXGZ43x-JA8/s640/DSC_0531.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-78028397848870611342012-07-26T19:41:00.001-07:002012-07-26T19:41:50.693-07:00I am in awe of this sweet little face.<br />
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I find myself wondering, will she really have my mouth and Korey's eyes and is that nose mine or his?..It's so hard to tell. All I know is that she is beautiful and when I lay down in my bed at night to blog or catch up on facebook, I get distracted by the miracle backlit by the screen and I wonder, how on earth will I ever get anything done again? Everything seems to take a backburner to the picture of her sweet little face<br />
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and fist </div>
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and the way my belly bounces and sways as she wriggles inside of me. In some ways I am terrified of her coming, and in others, I can hardly stand the wait.Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-36457746971036562412012-07-01T07:25:00.000-07:002012-07-01T07:25:04.389-07:00Half-New Years Day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My heart is still broken, but I'm on the mend. The truth is that sometimes I feel like my Pawpaw is still here, living in Clermont, sitting in his favorite chair. I forget that he's gone. The hard moments are when I think of a story that includes him, or when I think of planning the next visit, or I pass his cellphone number in my phone, or when I make the guest list for a coed baby shower and I can't include his name. Those are the moments that sting, the moments that build pressure in my chest and bring tears to my eyes. And then I feel a sweet little foot (I think it's a foot) kicking me from the inside out and I remember that I still have a lot to be thankful for </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">which is just enough to send those tears streaming down my face. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am so emotional these days. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I wonder if she will have reddish blond hair like him, or milky white, scotch irish skin.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I reread my New Years Resolution today. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To be evergreen.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I had forgotten all about it. Funny how my resolution was to live all year long and how life has gotten in the way of it. Living on purpose is an entirely different animal than mere survival and I've not done a great job of being evergreen. I'll be the first to admit that but I'm gearing up to try again. There are so many things I want for my little girl, and one of them is to be remembered as a joyful and peaceful mother. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I want her to know me as someone who is steady and full of life, even in the face of adversity, someone who is evergreen. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What better time to learn to be peaceful than in the midst of chaos? At least, that's what I'm telling myself, because those are the circumstances I've been given. It's so easy to be discontent in this world. People who have money are happy. People who have romance and love are happy. People who are beautiful are happy. People who have extraordinary talent and intelligence are happy. People who have an "easy" life are happy. This is the message that is force fed to us every day, but it just doesn't settle as truth with me. I guess I've read too many underdog stories. I've come to believe that every day is a new battle for contentment and some days I fail miserably. Ok, most days, and some of those days, I'll admit, I hardly tried, running on autopilot. But today I'm resolving to live more purposefully daily. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Who says that resolutions can only be made once a year? If you can have a half-birthday, certainly you can have a half new year. And who says that half new years resolution can't be the same one you made six months ago? My resolution is usually the same every year anyway, to lose weight. So I'm making my half-new years resolution and it's to lose an altogether different kind of weight. I resolve to live more purposefully, in spite of my circumstances. I resolve to stay alive even in the midst of death. I resolve to be steady and strong. I want to be evergreen. I want to live all year long. So I'm putting down my burdens of worry and stress and discontentment each day. It's hard to live with all that death upon your shoulders. I don't expect to be instantly happy and I don't expect to stop missing my Pawpaw, but I will be grateful for the time I had with him. I will be grateful for my little baby girl who is kicking so hard I can see my belly squirm. I will be grateful for the career I'm blessed to have and the husband who is such a strong support and my very best friend. And if I fail again today, I resolve to try again tomorrow. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy Half New Years.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Try to become not a man of success, but try rather to become a man of value</span><b></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Albert Einstein </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.”</span></span></span></h1>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Albert Schweitzer</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #800040;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-36133045334654970462012-06-19T17:02:00.000-07:002012-06-19T17:02:05.118-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
There is something about death that makes you so vulnerable to the outside world. My heart is still heavy and my eyes still swell at random times during the day. I hate the timing of it all. I hate that I missed saying goodbye. I hate that it was right before father's day and I knew my dad would struggle with the loss of his father. I hate that it was Korey's first father's day and that parts of it will always have tears and a tinge of sadness. Weeks before any of this happened, we had planned to go to brunch at a place called Flat Creek Lodge, so we went. It was a great distraction from the sadness and I was glad that it was special for Korey's first father's day. </div>
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He even did the duck face to cheer me up. Who can look at that and not smile?</div>
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This time of my life is laced with sadness, but I'm counting my blessings in baby kicks, nursery decorating, sweet songs, and a man who was made just for me. I have no fears about how Korey will be as a daddy to our sweet little girl. He is already so good at loving a woman like me.</div>
<br />Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-23295209610658272812012-06-17T19:56:00.002-07:002012-06-17T19:56:43.566-07:00The Lord gives and the Lord takes away<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Its funny how it feels like the world should stop spinning. Just for a moment. Out of reverence. Out of grief. But it wont. It keeps turning loudly and obnoxiously, irreverent. As if he was insignificant. Strange to think that thursday morning when I was praying for him, he was already gone.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">It should feel better to hear that he is in Heaven. He has gone to be with the Lord. At least he was a Christian. He lived a long full life. Everyone keeps telling me. But it doesn't make it better. I know its wrong to feel that way, but there it is. Unchanged.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Isn't it strange how happiness can slip in and out of my day and then suddenly with one memory sadness grips my heart? It seems that all my memories have been tainted by sadness.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"> They're fond memories, not sad. Maybe it's that all the stories that will include Pawpaw as a character have all been written. Maybe it's the loss of memories we never got to make, never will get to. He will never meet my daughter. I'll never have that picture I wanted of his hand holding hers. </span><br />
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I feel better today than yesterday, but I haven't been sleeping well. I'm fine while I'm busy moving, but when my hands are still and the world is quiet, my heart is heavy. I don't think I've ever been so sad. </div>
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After the funeral was over, we went to a hilltop and sent off lanterns and said our goodbyes, but somehow it still doesn't feel real, like he's still in Clermont and I'll see him the next time I go home. </div>
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I love you, Pawpaw. Happy Father's Day. </div>
</div>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-74603776311452959942012-06-08T20:51:00.000-07:002012-06-09T11:07:49.641-07:00SheeshOh how my life has changed. I almost don't even know how to write about all that has happened. I suppose it's taken me this long to begin to process it and even now, I'm a little flustered. So...what have I been up to? Well, mainly I've been growing this sweet little thing<br />
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And to think that before this juncture of my life, I could barely successfully grow a tomato.<br />
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I am, officially 6 months pregnant. What a surprise this baby was, a sweet surprise to say the least and we couldn't be happier about it. Sometimes it's still hard for me to believe it's real. I'm going to be a mommy. The belly is growing out of control and yet, some days I don't even feel pregnant until I feel the baby moving or I try to put on my prepregnancy pants. I don't really know what else to say about it. I just can't wait to meet this little one.<br />
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<br /></div>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-48359332238661176742012-01-16T18:12:00.000-08:002012-01-16T18:15:07.177-08:00Wabi-Sabi<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Another blogpost inspired by another blog. This time it's </span><a href="http://jeremyandkathleen.blogspot.com/2012/01/wabi-sabi.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Jeremy & Kathleen</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">. Wabi-Sabi, the title of her latest post, really grabbed me. I know she eats </span><s><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">weird</span></s><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> vegan food and for a second I even thought, "Silly...that's not how wasabi is spelled," but it wasn't wasabi after all.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Wabi-sabi is a japanese word and basically is the whole principle behind the movie American Beauty. (That's the movie with the video of the floating trashbag and teen angst not the apple pie and teen angst.) The most basic definition is the beauty of imperfect things. As Kathleen says in her blog, "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Wabi-sabi is my old home that makes a hobby of collecting dust and cracks. Wabi-sabi is my jacked up toes and pimple on my chin." Oh how I can relate to that. Lately, two of my favorite blogs to read for encouragement are </span><a href="http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/04/2011-lesson-2-dont-carpe-diem/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Momastry</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> and </span><a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/2012/01/contentment.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Enjoying the Small Things</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">. Both are women who write about their lives with utter honesty and the wabi-sabi-ness (if that's even a word) is what always seems to encourage me. Their lives are covered up with Wabi-sabi and although I didn't really know how to express it before, it helps me to see the wabi-sabi in my own life and in myself. Not everything that is beautiful is perfect. Literature has known this for centuries, a fact of which many heros with a tragic flaw can attest. I obviously don't think of myself as a hero in any regard, but it is nice to know that my flaws can sometimes be labeled as something other than tragic. I have to admit, there have been times where things didn't work out quite as planned yet blossomed into the most beautiful times of my life. They are the times when I have seen the most growth in myself. It's the story of the underdog. Life is full of beautiful imperfections. Inside, I guess I have always known that, which is why I listened to "Comfortable" on repeat during my lonely college years. Wabi-sabi on.</span></span><br />
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</span>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-4538195818890029232012-01-04T20:56:00.000-08:002012-01-04T21:12:01.230-08:00Resolution<div style="color: #2b2b2b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">"I’m a simple girl.</div><div style="color: #2b2b2b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">That’s why I’m choosing <strong>one word</strong> for the New Year. <em>Just one."</em></div><div style="color: #2b2b2b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><em><a href="http://wearethatfamily.com/2012/01/my-word-for-2012/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+wearethatfamily%2FGaiB+%28We+are+THAT+Family%29">We Are That Family</a></em></div><div style="color: #2b2b2b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Inspiring words from one of my favorite blogs, and they rang true with me. So I've been thinking, what to make my word for the new year? There are so many good ones to choose: Faith, hope, love, wild, free... The list goes on an on. The lines of a Switchfoot song keep playing in my head. "I want to be evergreen. I want to live all year round." So there it is 2012. </div><div style="color: #2b2b2b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="color: #2b2b2b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Hard times and good times are surely ahead. Feast and famine. Strength and Weakness. Whatever may be in store for me, I resolve to be constant, steady as a drum. My heart craves peace and balance and I resolve to gain them both and keep them all year long. Though the world may fall around me or rejoice in perfect light, I want to be evergreen. I want to live all year round.<br />
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Farewell 2011.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0232.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0232.jpg" width="425" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0355.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0355.jpg" /></a></div>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-66758993813535121422011-12-24T21:36:00.000-08:002011-12-24T21:36:59.939-08:00Christmas EveAs I sit here thinking of all the things I should be doing...finding that one last gift I know I had earlier today but didn't wrap, tying up loose Christmas ends, and trying to enjoy the night, I find that Christmas has already come....28 minutes ago. I feel so unprepared. I'm not ready. I haven't heard enough carols. I haven't drunk nearly enough hot chocolate. I haven't sat by the Christmas tree and listened to "Evergreen" by Switchfoot on repeat. I guess Mary wasn't ready either. No baby bed. No midwife. Only a stable. Only a man and some shepherds to welcome her baby into the world. I am humbled. A king in a manger and I on my computer in my in-laws temperature controlled house, belly full (overly full) and presents all around. It's my heart that needs preparing for this day. So I pray, "God keep me mindful of this day, the day Your Son was born for me." Happy birthday, Jesus and Merry Christmas to all.<br />
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Goodnight moon.Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-31865260747892056682011-12-13T20:06:00.000-08:002011-12-13T20:06:32.125-08:00Sugar and Spice and Everything NiceI've been taking pictures of Stella for 21 weeks and the number 1 question on everyone's mind has been....well...let's be honest...it's been "Are you having twins?" Oh to be all baby like that one day. I would give up anything...well except for food...which is probably why that won't happen for me. Sigh. I digressed.<br />
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So the number two question was obviously.....<br />
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And it was answered in true Stella fashion. Man, that girl loves to party. The theme of the night, a poem.<br />
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What are little boys made of? Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, that is what boys are made of. What are little girls made of? Sugar and Spice and everything nice, that is what girls are made of.<br />
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Everyone wore pink or blue to show what their guess for the sex of the baby was. Except for Boo.<br />
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Boo preferred to stay switzerland and wore white.<br />
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Take note people. One day, I'm going to need one of these....ahem.<br />
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And now on to the grand reveal......<br />
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IT'S A GIRL!<br />
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Ace was the only one who was disappointed... I'm not sure why.<br />
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Nanette didn't give him a hard time or anything and was a lady about the whole thing....<br />
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Boo... he just wanted to know where Stella buys her sheets.<br />
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Me? I'm so happy that it's a girl, but I would've been equally happy if it had been a boy. I'm just amazed when I look at these pictures and think...wow...there's a little girl growing in there.<br />
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What a blessed miracle.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber20windowarmsupblackandwhite.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber20windowarmsupblackandwhite.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber20windowbellyshotsoftened.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber20windowbellyshotsoftened.jpg" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-11284204401934811312011-12-08T07:39:00.000-08:002012-01-04T21:02:27.573-08:00Letting my holiday freak flag flyAh. To breathe deep and know that school is no longer looming. It feels like Christmas morning already. I even woke up early with anticipation...well...not really. I just woke up early because my circadian rhythm didn't get the Christmas break message. I can hardly believe it's here.<br />
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I am a day studier. I always have been. Although, like my lactose intolerance, I haven't always acknowledged it. I have spent many caffeine induced all nighters, the result of which was usually regrets and verbal diarrhea. Since then, I've let go of my delusions of night owl grandeur and embraced my inner morning person. So during the last weekend to study for finals, I studied during the day and started raising my holiday freak flag at night. First up, Lights of the South. 100 acres and 4 million Christmas lights. Yes, please.<br />
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We chose to ride the hayride through the light display and it was magical.<br />
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We went back to Cinderella's castle and took cheesy pictures of ourselves.<br />
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We got our picture taken with Santa, who managed to demand in a non-creepy way that we both sit on his lap. I didn't even know there was a non-creeper way to say that to an adult. Santa's got game.<br />
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The very next night, we went to the lighting of the tree complete with fireworks.<br />
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<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">I love these moments. Sometimes the monotony of dental school can get to me. All work and no play. Practice, practice, practice is the year long theme with no grand recital in sight. Such is life. At least my life has felt that way, a little like practicing the piano. Talent is God-given and man-refined, so I rally on. Practice. Practice. Practice. Oh the steady drum of life. It's the steady beat of practice that drives fear off the stage. I just keep on and I know that one day all my hard work will pay off, if not in spades, then in sweet dreams, peaceful slumber and heavy blankets on my bed at night. "A man reaps what he sows." Galations 6:7. I'm placing all my bets on that.</div><div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0401.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0401.jpg" width="640" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-61412463264430122952011-12-01T07:38:00.000-08:002011-12-01T07:38:43.417-08:00The cure for anything is saltwater; sweat, tears, or the sea.- Isak Dinesen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finals are looming and my fight or flight is kicking into high gear. Traditionally I'm a fighter. Traditionally, I am traditional, but I am all out of sorts these days. I'm the one who loves the cool weather, fireplaces, and Christmas lights, hot cocoa, and baking to warm the house up, but suddenly, I am craving salty air and crashing waves. The thought of a warm and snowless Christmas has never before appealed to me, so I don't know why it suddenly seems like medicine for my soul. I keep picturing Christmas lights on palm trees and plastic pink flamingos with santa hats and a Christmas tree full of sea shells and sand dollars with a starfish on top to boot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There is something calming about the sea, something about the way it is so magnificent, powerful and uncontrolled. Today I long to see it and feel the cold, wet sand beneath my toes. The ocean is in my blood encoded somewhere in my genes between the knack for cooking and getting sunburned in less than 30 minutes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now it's time to get back to studying, to fight to the finish</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0399.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0399.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0321.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0321.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0306.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="400" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0306.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">but oh how my heart longs to be here instead.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I want to be free, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Wind in my hair, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Salt on my skin, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sun in the air.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Gavin Degraw</div>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-59738235750540130662011-11-27T20:24:00.000-08:002012-01-04T21:02:27.573-08:00Giving ThanksMy second final of the semester is tomorrow and so I will make this brief.<br />
Thanksgiving began with my family<br />
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and this apple pie.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011AmericanasApplePie-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011AmericanasApplePie-1.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
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Korey and his dad fried the turkeys again and in these overalls to boot, so I'll just insert this picture from last year since I was at my moms baking aforementioned apple pie...amongst many...many...many other things.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggzNK5B_eDEmkNV5O32G6hIFV0a1g6dS3SohFrhJvknRi9UY1_ts8Fu6sgNd12iEXYTfstN6-TnAgfDtFOfG1xxOP0jlzpmZM0-lBhg3Xe-mri-Xzdk51pENisswORHbvAOVoTOPYckHM/s1600/DSC_0559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggzNK5B_eDEmkNV5O32G6hIFV0a1g6dS3SohFrhJvknRi9UY1_ts8Fu6sgNd12iEXYTfstN6-TnAgfDtFOfG1xxOP0jlzpmZM0-lBhg3Xe-mri-Xzdk51pENisswORHbvAOVoTOPYckHM/s640/DSC_0559.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lets take a moment to be thankful for overalls and the broad shoulders for which they stand.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can I get an amen?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Amen.</div><br />
Moving right along.<br />
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Here is my dad.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011Dad.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011Dad.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="426" /></a><br />
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and my mom.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011Mommaandme.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011Mommaandme.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="424" /></a><br />
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and my sister and brother in law. Aren't they cute?<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011EricwithAshleysbandagedfinger.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011EricwithAshleysbandagedfinger.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="426" /></a><br />
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Note the bandage on not one, but two fingers. Proof that I did not cook alone.<br />
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And then of course, the second annual Anderson family photos.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011FamilyPortrait3.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011FamilyPortrait3.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011crazyfamilyportrait.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011crazyfamilyportrait.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Not quite sure what Granny's doing, but I love it.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011CompleteFamilyPortrait2.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011CompleteFamilyPortrait2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
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And then we decorated everyone else's house for Christmas.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011Koreyandtheangel.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011Koreyandtheangel.jpg" width="425" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011Angel.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011Angel.jpg" width="426" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=Thanksgiving2011Faithhopelovecollage.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/Thanksgiving2011Faithhopelovecollage.jpg" /></a><br />
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"And now these three remain; faith, hope, and love, but the greatest of these is love."<br />
1 Corinthians 13:13<br />
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So much to be thankful for. My cup overflows.Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-61073598569865065022011-11-18T19:09:00.000-08:002011-11-18T19:09:08.321-08:00This is what I did on Halloween night.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber15laughinglegscrossed.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber15laughinglegscrossed.jpg" /></a><br />
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After a busload of trick or treaters came to the door that is. Last year, we could not pay a kid to ring our doorbell for some candy. This Halloween, we gave out all our candy and when that door bell rang one more time, and three precious little smiles sang out "Trick or treat," Korey panicked and gave them each a one dollar bill. And then we left....before word got out that the little yellow house was giving out money.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber15candleblackandwhite.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber15candleblackandwhite.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber15HappyHalloween1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber15HappyHalloween1.jpg" /></a><br />
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I suppose it's appropriate that these photos came in this order. Halloween is the eve of All Saints Day.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber17Youknitmetogetherinmymotherswomb.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber17Youknitmetogetherinmymotherswomb.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber17mycupoverflows.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber17mycupoverflows.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=weeknumber17theAlmightyhasdonegreatthingsforme.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/weeknumber17theAlmightyhasdonegreatthingsforme.jpg" /></a><br />
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At Samford, we sang many versions of The Magnificat. They reverberated in my head as I edited these photos.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"></span><br />
<dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">My soul magnifies the Lord,</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior;</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">For he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden.</dd></dl><dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">For behold, from this day all generations will call me blessed;</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">For the mighty one has done great things to me, and holy is his name.</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">And his mercy is on those who fear him from generation to generation.</dd></dl><dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">He has shown strength with his arm;</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts;</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has exalted the holy;</dd></dl><dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">He has filled the hungry with good things,</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">and the rich he has sent empty away.</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">He has helped his servant Israel,</dd></dl><dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">in remembrance of his mercy,</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">as he spoke to our fathers,</dd><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 1.6em;">to Abraham and to his seed forever.</dd></dl>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-54617690937252401562011-11-14T08:46:00.000-08:002012-01-04T21:02:27.574-08:00October FlashbackI can't believe it is already mid-November. It seems like just yesterday we were celebrating Korey's birthday in mid-October. I really wanted to do something special for Korey's 30th birthday, so I planned a surprise party for him....for a couple months....from another city... My eyes have been opened to how little unscheduled time I have and what an infinitesimal amount of that unscheduled time is not spent with Korey. Honestly though, we pulled it off, and I most certainly do mean "we." We = Korey's parents and sister, my parents and sister and the family and friends that came and some that helped set up <s>because they like to be on time and I wasn't done when everyone started showing up</s>, especially to Greg who helped get him to the venue and my dad (ironically also named Greg) who distracted him so that I could go secret shopping with my mom and sister for about half of the things I still needed, and last but not least the wonderful <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ten-Ring-Sporter-Range/140846765935344">Ten Ring Sporter Range</a>, an outdoor gun range, which turned out to be the perfect site for a surprise bonfire birthday party. <br />
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We began our weekend adventure with a family birthday at Korey's parents house. It was fun to have a quiet birthday dinner followed by his favorite Crossroads Deli red velvet cake.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=30thbirthdaykoreycake-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="598" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/30thbirthdaykoreycake-1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I know it looks lopsided. It's not really lopsided though, it's just weighed down with excellence....ok maybe it is a little lopsided. it still tasted awesome.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=30thbirthdayKoreyCrossroadsDeliRedVelvetCake-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/30thbirthdayKoreyCrossroadsDeliRedVelvetCake-1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Clover cannot vouch for the taste, but she almost went crosseyed trying to get a look at the heavenly smell coming from the dinner table.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=30thbirthdayKoreyCloverlookingatcake-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/30thbirthdayKoreyCloverlookingatcake-1.jpg" /></a><br />
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The next day my dad and Korey went and shot at an indoor gun range while my mom and sister and I went shopping for his party and then Korey went ziplining at <a href="http://www.lakelaniercanopytours.com/">Lake Lanier Canopy Tours</a> with Greg, and we all headed over to Ten Ring Sporter Range to set up for the party. My dad and Korey's dad worked together to get the bonfire going.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0613.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0613.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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My favorite table was the dessert table. There were s'mores ingredients, caramel in the crockpot for people to make their own caramel apples and a random assortment of other treats. <br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0619.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0619.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Korey's sister, Koleigh, made the "cakes" which were cupcakes arranged in the shapes of a mustache and bowtie. They turned out so cute!<br />
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Of course there was also plenty of Mexican Coke. Yes, it really does taste different than American Coke. Yes, it is better. :)<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=30thbirthdayKoreyMexicanCoke.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/30thbirthdayKoreyMexicanCoke.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="425" /></a><br />
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Koleigh also brought face paint for the kids and while we waited for Korey to arrive, many mustaches were quickly grown by all the littles, boys and girls alike. Mustaches know no gender.<br />
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Before we knew it, the mustache craze caught on and they started appearing on adults and children alike.<br />
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The types got pretty creative. Ashley and Korey's aunt Tara were graced with the "frenchman." Ashley also went for the optional mutton chops.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=30thBirthdayKoreyAuntTarasmustache.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/30thBirthdayKoreyAuntTarasmustache.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Arlene went for the "barbershop quartet."<br />
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Emily went for the "fu manchu" while cousin Brittany went for the ever tough "gangsta stache."<br />
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Koleigh got the ever illusive, "non-creepy mustache" and the baby of course, ended up with the "Hitler" due to his inability to sit still and not attempt to eat the paint brush as it came toward his mouth. In his defense, normally he is encouraged to open wide any time something wielded by an adult comes toward his mouth at the end of a utensil.<br />
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All the tables were set up in the nick of time and thanks to a little friendly deceit, Korey arrived soon after. Unfortunately, this blurry picture was all I got of his "surprised" face.<br />
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There. Much better.<br />
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He was surprised to find a group of mustache wearing friends and family ready to celebrate the day he was born!<br />
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The mustache epidemic continued to spread and I laughed so hard when I saw how far it had gone when I went to get a picture of Korey with Granny.<br />
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Ah. The "Gangsta" with the "Flavor Saver." Mustache win.<br />
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It was Korey's parents idea to have people roast their own hotdogs on the fire, and I bought pre-cooked chicken nuggets for the non-hotdog-loving people. At first the bonfire was so hot, that people got very creative with their hotdog roasting techniques.<br />
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As the perfect solution, several small cookfires were made away from the big fire so that people could heat their food without singeing their real or newly painted mustaches off.<br />
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The darkness made it difficult to take good photos, but the timing was chosen for a good reason.<br />
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After the birthday song was sung, and Korey blew out his candles, the main event began.<br />
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The lighting of the sky lanterns. 30 to be precise. One for each year of Korey's life. It was so beautiful and special and I want to do this every year for every holiday. It was magical.<br />
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I am so thankful for Korey and all that he means to me. Marriage is not always easy and sometimes it can be very good at pointing out all of the things about us that are different. There is definitely a learning curve in how to love each other and allowing ourselves to be loved in return. Marriage is one giant lesson in vulnerability and I can't help but wonder if God took a rib from Adam purposefully as a symbolic sacrifice; Adam giving up protection of his heart to provide for Eve. After first meeting Korey, I did not know that we would fall in love, that he would be my soulmate, at least not in my conscious thoughts. I did turn to my sister as we were leaving and say, "Me and that kid were cut from the same cloth." If poor grammar isn't proof enough that I didn't see how significant that moment would be and how it would be repeated 'til death do us part, I don't know what is. Marriage is tricky. In some ways, it highlights how separate we are, and yet, one constant remains. I love him. He loves me. There may be better ways to write it, but why dress it up. Those 6 words are strong and sturdy and beautiful. They will not be worn away by years of worldly stress. Here's to Korey, the best man I've ever known. My soulmate and the guardian of my heart.<br />
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Always.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/1960s%20Wedding%20Album/?action=view&current=Thefirstmarriedkiss.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/1960s%20Wedding%20Album/Thefirstmarriedkiss.jpg" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-41992876349968680692011-10-21T20:53:00.000-07:002012-01-04T21:02:27.574-08:00dogs, babies and birthdaysSomeone pinch me. Did I just wake up to the middle of October? Puh-lease. September just started, right? Right? No?<br />
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This semester is soaring by at lightening speed and I have no choice but to grab on to the days and hold onto them for dear life. Somehow, each one still seems to slip through my fingers. I am thankful for my camera those days. Most of my life has been enjoyed in retrospect anyway. Am I the only one who is built that way? Even really important days; our wedding day, the day Korey brought Clover home and the day I got the acceptance letter to dental school, are all a blur now. Time erodes the details of memory and soon all that is left is the faint scent of truth on an otherwise completely made up story of "what really happened." Photographs provide focus and hard edges for fuzzy details.<br />
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Occasionally, some of my favorite photographs are unplanned. They capture the details of mundane, every day moments. Take for instance, the photograph below. It was taken a few weeks ago on the way home for the weekend. The dogs had signaled that they needed to go out, so we pulled the car over and let them roam through the grass for a bit. They ran and jumped and played and did what dogs do, and then they both sat in the sunshine and looked at Korey as I took this picture. Now I will always remember the shininess of their coats, their exact coloring, and how different their noses are in profile. Blessed details. They mean so much to me.<br />
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Have I ever mentioned how beautiful my dogs are. Strong and sweet and shiny like the dogs on the cover of a magazine. At times I am overwhelmed that they are mine. "They will enrich your life," a friend told Korey and me when we were contemplating whether or not to get one. It was good advice and doubly true for us.<br />
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Speaking of beautiful and enriching things, the weekly photo shoot with Stella produced two of my very favorite pictures that I've taken of her so far. What a beautiful woman she is. It has been such a joy to take her picture every week and be a part of their little miracle.<br />
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This week, Brad made his debut and it was so fun to see them interact with each other. They are obviously very in love with each other and excited about the little life they've been a part of creating.<br />
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I can't help but laugh every time I look at this picture. After practicing listening to his bowel sounds, he did end up actually trying to listen for the baby and I think the progression turned out very sweet.<br />
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They have two dogs also. I didn't get any pictures of Ace, but Nannette made her presence known. She is so used to being the center of attention.<br />
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I digressed.<br />
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The reason we went home a few weeks ago was to celebrate my sisters 30th birthday.<br />
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Ashley and Eric recently bought their first home, and it seemed like the perfect place to celebrate so we had a cookout. It was mainly family early on and then friends came over a little later to hang out and have fun long past the bedtime of the smaller children.<br />
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Catherine came for the party and I was so glad she did. She and Ashley were thick as thieves in highschool and so much has changed since then. It was wonderful to catch up.<br />
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The cutest little girl from Eric's side of the family loved Ashley's cake. I love how children feel invisible when they are trying to do something sneaky.<br />
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Korey called me over and we both giggled while we watched this childhood right of passage.<br />
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The sneaking of the icing. It's a bridge every child must cross.<br />
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No one cared about the damage. Who could be mad at that little face?<br />
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Ashley's husband surprised her with a necklace and earrings.<br />
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And I loved her beautiful birthday flowers.<br />
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Ashley's cat and dog were both the life of the party.<br />
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Although Levi was a teensy bit camera shy.<br />
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So when we were all stuffed from hamburgers, hotdogs, side dishes and cake, we still had an icecream cake and s'mores to go through.<br />
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So we walked out onto the porch Ashley had decorated with these awesome lights and sat around her firepit to roast marshmellows and pass the time. Korey and I left didn't leave until midnight (We're more morning people than night people) but others stayed around the fire laughing long into the night. It was a beautiful tribute to a beautiful person, inside and out.<br />
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Happy birthday, sister. I love you.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0575.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0575.jpg" width="640" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-1612464135799438372011-10-07T03:24:00.000-07:002011-10-07T05:27:23.028-07:00Expecting the unexpectedA dear friend of mine is pregnant! I am so excited for her and her new little family of 3. She was gracious enough to let me pictures for her every week so that one day she can look back at the progression. She is so photogenic, it wasn't very hard to take a million photographs. I don't have a lot of time, because i have a midterm in a few hours, but I couldn't resist putting up a few of my favorites.<br />
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I've loved taking her week by week pictures and I can't wait to do a full maternity shoot in a few months! </div><div><br />
</div>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-51640073076522084662011-09-29T04:06:00.000-07:002012-01-04T21:02:27.574-08:00Arts In the HeartArts in the heart turned out to be one of the most redeeming qualities about Augusta.<br />
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We purchased our buttons not really knowing what to expect, and were pleasantly surprised by the amount of cultures represented.<br />
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Booths lined the streets with food labeled by country, region, or race. Korey and I seized the opportunity to try things we had never eaten before. We went to each booth and asked, "If I can only buy one thing, what should I buy?" The Northern Indian food and Brazilian food were my favorite, although I can't honestly say what it is we consumed.<br />
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And then I attempted to eat the pigs foot...not the best decision I've ever made, but what can I say? I was experiencing culture, and at least now I can honestly say I don't like it.<br />
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People from all walks of life were out and about<br />
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and performers filled the streets, waiting their turn to take the stage or mingling after their part of the show. Performances varied from ancient traditional instruments to a tap dancing group who danced to "Rocky Top." <br />
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There was even a tai chi demonstration.<br />
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It was amazing to see all of the talent. This older gentleman was my favorite. He was apart of the tai chi demonstration. He sure knew his way around a red fan and I'm pretty sure he can lung deeper and faster than I can.<br />
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Other forms of talent were scattered around the festival. There were long rows of handmade jewelry, paintings, drawings, and art work in all shapes and sizes. This man made pottery and grew crystals in the glaze by controlling the temperature of the kiln during firing and adding metals to create the different colors. I was fascinated. I do love a practical chemist.<br />
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Korey bought some folk art for our yard. Sunflowers are my favorite, so of course I love it. We had so much fun the first day, we even talked Wendy into joining us on the second day of the festival.<br />
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We love Wendy. She has a warm and sunny disposition. She hardly says a negative thing about anyone and honestly tries to find redeemable qualities in everyone. Wendy is also in dental school and we are in the same class. The new clinic is pictured below, all 5 beautiful stories of it.<br />
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The grand opening ceremony was last friday, although the clinic has been operational since August. The programs doubled as fans to help fan the heat while we listened to the president of the university, the governor, and other esteemed guests give their speeches.<br />
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As you can see, Dean Drisko is incredibly excited about the new building. Here she is giving "props" to her husband, Dick.<br />
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I've never been in a more beautiful clinic. The waiting rooms are spacious with beautiful views.<br />
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The pediatric waiting room even has a play room complete with video games along the wall of it.<br />
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Artwork is sprinkled throughout the building with this giant chandelier as the main attraction. Most say it looks like a jelly fish or a brain. It is a mosaic made of tiny shards of clear and blue glass. So the dental school is embracing local art as well. I like to think it's a Dali like impression of melting teeth, but who knows what it's supposed to be. All I know is that it's a beautiful place to see patients and I'm so grateful that I got to be apart of this little piece of history.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=MCGGrandopeningjellyfishchandelier.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="640" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/MCGGrandopeningjellyfishchandelier.jpg" width="425" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-44594392179993403442011-09-19T08:31:00.000-07:002011-09-19T09:04:00.957-07:00Summer In ReviewJust to catch you up on my life. This is what I did this summer.<br />
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My sweet little baby puppy has grown in leaps and bounds.<br />
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She has learned to swim with her paws under the water.<br />
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And is now surpassed Clover in the art of fetching, even though she still lets Clover bring it back part way, before attacking her and bringing it on home.<br />
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My sweet husband won 2nd and 3rd place in Business Law and Marketing in the state competition and even got to compete nationally in Orlando.<br />
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We went kayaking twice.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Korey even brought his mustache along for the ride.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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And I and some friends attempted to float down the river.<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">We saw my college roommate get married and caught up with other friends from college.</div><div><br />
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I harvested exactly one batch of tomatoes, but they all died when we went home for a couple weeks so I could take my boards.<br />
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And I harvested exactly 1 cucumber before Ginger discovered the wonder of home grown foods and the cucumber vine died a violent death by chewing.<br />
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We took a spontaneous road trip for Independence Day and looked for historical markers.<br />
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I chopped off my hair and sent it to Locks of Love and managed to not be stuck with a terrible hair cut afterward.<br />
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We attended Cousin Courtney's wedding. Everything was gorgeous including the beautiful bride.<br />
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I've gotten to see my pawpaw more and I love that I have been able to spend more time with him lately.<br />
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We've officially moved into the new school. This is the incredible giant mosaic artwork chandelier in the lobby.<br />
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This is the only picture I took from the official boards afterparty. It was a lot of fun, but was certainly not as fun as Fogo de Choa with miss Tracey.<br />
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We've started trying to coupon which has been hit or miss, but I'm learning and we're saving. Buying the paper definitely has its perks in the sense that we saw the advertisement for Arts in the Heart of Augusta.<br />
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I'll have to write about that next time, so this post isn't miles long.<br />
Did I mention my husband is now a Hull Scholar? I always knew he was a smarty pants.<br />
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Did I mention that I slaved studying for months and then I passed a National Dental Board Part 1?... :) Minor details. I have very sweet friends and they all made sure I felt very special and rewarded. I even had an unexpected spa day and a certain sweet friend of mine, Katie, had these beautiful flowers delivered to my house. Sunflowers and daisies are my favorite.<br />
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And after all that....I am dog tired.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0415.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" height="425" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0415.jpg" width="640" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-37866050905953516122011-09-14T04:03:00.000-07:002011-09-14T04:03:35.621-07:00The Setting of the Summer SunAnd so it is, just like it should be, the changing of the seasons. I look back and the last post I wrote also happened to be at the beginning of the seasons.<br />
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It was a hard summer. A hot, long summer. A blur really. And now it's over. September hit like a hammer. One day it was all muggy hotness and now a cool....er.....cooler breeze blows in the evening and the temperature is bearable ergo our power bill no longer makes me want to cry. (Korey hides the scary bills from me for this very reason.)<br />
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For a little while I felt that I had run out of words, but here they are, just where I left them at the beginning of the spring. So I guess I'll pick up where I left off. I feel like the traditional summer break was skipped altogether, and yet, somehow September always marches in with the inkling to sharpen pencils (AKA click click click on a mechanical pencil because I'm sure you know that dull lead and lactose are two things I just don't tolerate.)<br />
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I did manage to take a few pictures and have a little fun. I'll post them up next. For now, I am simply thankful to have the desire to write again. Write anything really. Even a post about nothing. I'm getting back in the swing folks.<br />
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I can feel myself coming back to life.Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-30493043355932114912011-03-31T18:12:00.000-07:002011-04-02T10:20:52.251-07:00This is where I admit...I spoke too soon.<br />
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This week has been cold and rainy<br />
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And soup-filled.<br />
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Rain, rain go away. Please come back...when I can fit my fat calves into some galoshes.<br />
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just kidding. Kind of.<br />
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These would be nice.Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-59573505081297812122011-03-19T09:24:00.000-07:002012-01-04T21:03:12.650-08:00Spring is springing forwardI've been waiting for spring since New Years Day and this week, it finally came. It's been a long wait, but that's just how spring rolls, and with her, the annual war between the pollen and my sanity. Seriously, what button do I have to push to let my body know that spring is not the enemy.<br />
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Who else is loving the time change? Because, I do. I love the sunshine. I love that it's light outside when I wake up. I love the heat of the day. It's like a salve for my soul. I can feel the energy. The whole earth is gearing up for summer. It reminds me of running. When I was training for the half marathon, I would always try to sprint the last lap around the track. It was a way of proving to myself that I can always do more, that I could've run faster or further. Running distance is such a mental game. If I've learned one thing over the years, it's that my body is capable of doing so much more than I think it can.<br />
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Whenever I was running the second to last lap, I would think, "Here we are. It's the slingshot. I'm gearing up to sprint and the faster I sprint, the sooner it will be over." Maybe it's foolish, but it always felt that way and I could sense it coming around that last corner to the moment when I would start to sprint. The image of a slingshot being stretched back and tense, waiting to be free. Of course it was probably slightly less dramatic if you had seen it in person. It's hard to make a 10 minute mile sprint look dramatic, but I felt it. And I feel it now with the seasons. Pulling back the slingshot of spring before the sprint of summer.<br />
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So spring has sprung.<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">No more hot soup on cold days.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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Grass and the kitchen garden have been planted.<br />
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And everything is growing, especially me.<br />
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I keep playing <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ny4deVFsYuo&feature=related">this song</a> over and over<br />
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Ironic.<br />
Our dog days haven't even begun.<br />
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<a href="http://s863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/?action=view&current=DSC_0693.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i863.photobucket.com/albums/ab194/lindseyanderson2013/DSC_0693.jpg" /></a>Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-931128027999817467.post-64084744182560128112011-03-15T17:45:00.000-07:002011-03-15T17:45:56.619-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #58595b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/26427663@N06/5529521302/" style="color: #8fc2bd; text-decoration: none;" title="HELP-JAPAN_DTL by jeremy & kathleen, on Flickr"><img alt="HELP-JAPAN_DTL" height="325" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5178/5529521302_e3a4380089.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none;" width="500" /></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #58595b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #58595b; font-family: 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/26427663@N06/5529521254/" style="color: #00dcc6; text-decoration: none;" title="HELP_JAPAN_FRONTPAGE by jeremy & kathleen, on Flickr"><img alt="HELP_JAPAN_FRONTPAGE" height="325" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5052/5529521254_dced9d7b2a.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none;" width="500" /></a></span><br />
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You can buy this poster <a href="http://wkstudio.bigcartel.com/product/help-japan">here</a>. I've seen it going around and I am all for it. For a $25.00 donation (+ $5.00 shipping and handling), you get this poster and 100% of the proceeds go to the Red Cross in support of the crisis in Japan. People are putting them in their homes, at their workplaces, in their windows. It reminds me of when 911 happened and Englanders put American flags in their windows. It reminds me that there is love in this world. It's the second greatest commandment. "Love your neighbor as yourself." It's a good thing.Lindseyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16163505214904310233noreply@blogger.com1