something large is napping

That was a phrase that surfaced in a game my family played at the beach this past summer. It cracked us up then and it still makes me smile to think about.

It also makes me think of this.
But in this case I should say somethings large are napping, I suppose.
Letting go of the world for a moment. Finding solace in sleep.
Forgetting about your argyle collar, your Armani glasses, and just cuddling up tight.
Letting the silence become a lullaby, the couch a vessel that takes you on a journey, a brief respite.
So go on then, slip into your
and we'll be here when you're ready to wake up.

Happy to see you.

But until then, something large is napping.

happy birthday, jonathan

My mom always called us her twins, even though we aren't.

But still, we are the closest in age out of the family, were always close to the same height growing up, and have the same brown eyes, though his are darker like our Italian mom's while mine are more like our pop's British side of things.

We were always going through the same stage of life. Running away from the surf together at the beach, terrified that a wave would jump out at us and swallow us whole. Taking turns on our pop's back as we fought those waves together, putting on a brave face even when the truth was evident in our vise-like grip around our pop's poor neck.

Same Sunday school class; and later, the same youth group.

Same engulfing fear of the night, leading us to sleep in each other's rooms, respectively, long after all our friends were sleeping soundly in their own beds.

Tentatively starting to date, but um, he dated girls and I dated boys and all the while we were wondering when that oh-so-elusive one would show up.

We were even both in The Nutcracker Suite one year, though I have a strong suspicion that he was in it for the girls whereas I actually was in it for the ballet.

We spent so much time together, see, that people sensed that there was something between us. The thing is, they didn't always get exactly what that something was.

Like when we both did a mission's trip with Youth With A Mission, as teenagers. He had gotten his leg all scraped up in a soccer accident, his wound was infected and his body was feverish. Because of that, he had to just stay in the men's ward for a few days. Not allowed to go out, not allowed to do much of anything, though he wasn't up to it anyway, I imagine.

So I would take my breaks and go visit him.

Talk to him.

Make sure he had what he needed.

Most of the time it would be just the two of us, since everyone else was busy serving the world.

Finally one of our leaders approached me and with kindness in his voice told me that he didn't think my behavior was appropriate.

What do you mean? I asked, secretly shocked since I had made a career out of avoiding inappropriate behavior thus far.

It's not right, he explained, the two of you spending so much time alone with nobody around to chaperone.

And then it dawned on me.

And then his insinuation made me throw up a little in my mouth.

But, I said, he's my brother.

And that was that. The leader was embarrassed for assuming we were up to no good and I was given cart blanche visits to the men's ward.

Because he is my brother.

And I am so glad he is.

Always.

Happy birthday, Jonathan.

closets in the air and i believe.

Sometimes we need to make our own way in this world.

I get that.

But some things are just unavoidable. A part of life. Like accumulating paper. Lots and lots of paper. You'd think that somebody somewhere thought that trees grew on, well trees, with the amount of papers that are sent to our house every day. Coupons. Newspapers that are actually just more coupons, in case I didn't see that bulging packet of coupons that is sitting right beside it in the mailbox. Bills. Letters from dentists, for crying out loud, welcoming us to the neighborhood three years after we moved here. I mean, if I didn't feel welcomed by now, I am not sure how much a letter from a dentist is going to do the trick.

But in case you can't tell, I really hate all the wasteful papers that are sent my way. Just to be brought into my house. Just to fill up my trash can. Just to cause me to take out the trash and put in a new garbage bag once again. Just for those papers that were at first in front of my house in my mailbox to end up behind my house in my dumpster.

Couldn't the mailman save us all a lot of trouble by simply depositing those papers directly into the dumpster?

Anyway.

I hate excessive papers but I simply have to deal with it.

Because I can't just be like Drew, who one day says to me, I hate drawers, and the next day eliminates a lot of them from his life.

First of all, I had no idea the man I married had such a detest for something as harmless and helpful as drawers, of all things. But well, it takes all kinds, I guess and really, who am I to judge? He allows me my hatred of many many foods and drinks, so I suppose he is allowed to hate drawers.

Second of all, at least he can do something about it.

Like go to Lowes, pick up some antique chain and iron hooks, and then go hang a dowel from them after drilling it all into ceiling like this.
And of course, making sure that your newly acquired Japanese ninja sword from your lovely, intelligent, and hilarious wife is sitting next to your new hanging closet.

So there you go, Drew hates drawers and so made a closet in the sky. Or at least in the upper part of our bedroom.

And I present you the first piece of artwork in our room.
It makes me excited.

All of our artwork has gone to basically every other room in the house. Because other people see those rooms a lot more than our own bedroom, sadly ours is the room that has gone the most neglected.

But no more.

And we have plans for more, too.

Once the drill recharges and it isn't too late to drill, that is.

Oh, and a card that is presently in our house.

I agree with it.

And would like to add to it.

I believe:

in my ability to change.

because I used to never eat green peppers, but now I do and that counts for something. I did it just today, in fact, proving once again that I can change. And maybe someday change will be harder than just sticking a little old green pepper into my mouth, chewing, and swallowing, but well, that leads me to my second point...

in God's ability to change me.

because I know a guy who was a lot like all of us in that he just assumed that he would live forever or at least a very long time and got bogged down in all of the trivial things that don't matter so much, like what kind of shoes you are wearing and who is kissing who in the 12th grade. But then he found out that he was sick. Really sick, with something that most people think of as a stigma that leaves them saying no thank you and keeping their distance which only makes these people who are already sick also feel alone. But my friend--well now he is living life fully with no large or small moments lost on him, and he is radiant with a kind of joy that only the truly grateful among us experience. It's beautiful, he's beautiful and his sickness is not the point of his life.

So there you go.

What are you believing today?

what a man, what a man, what a mighty fine man

Some men might balk at holding a princess umbrella over their heads.

One that declares you Gentle as a True Princess.

And even though pink is often declared the new black, they might opt for an umbrella that is the old black, the standard black, you know, just black.

But not Drew.

Cool as a cucumber under a pink princess umbrella.

And dry too, thanks to that pink princess umbrella.
And apparently very very happy to be under that pink princess umbrella.

candles and boots and coats and football can only mean one thing

The air has gotten cooler, haven't you noticed?

And I'm ready.

For the fall.

I think most of us are, in our own way.

Drew has welcomed this new season by watching football whole-heartedly. And even now that exciting and canned theme music with way too much treble is blaring from our speakers as the Titans and the Steelers compete for a win.

And me?

Well, I got some candles today.
Pumpkin spice and apple pie.

Enough said.

And I opened up this gorgeous and hand-made wedding invitation from my dear friend Betsy.
I should also say hand-sewn. Cause she's amazing like that. And she's a beautiful autumn bride. Perfect.

And I've dusted off my boots, debating wearing a pair tomorrow.
I also perused my latest Urban Outfitters catalogue, dreaming of owning a pair of their boots.

Perhaps someday.

Although I know exactly where my dream boots are. Spanish leather. Black. Sold at Barney's. And not in my closet.

Perhaps someday.

And I've also started getting excited about my coats again.
The different textures. The colors.

And even Drew purchased a cable-knit sweater yesterday, in honor of fall.

Are your thoughts turning towards fall quite yet?

black and white and food downstairs

Yep, that's right, a new bloggety design.

It was past time cause that green was even beginning to annoy me.

And I happen to be a big fan of green.

In the Great Change of '09 I lost a few widgets and gadgets that I am currently trying to track down and get back, but other than that, I am pleased with this new design of black and white (and read all over. Get it? It's a blog, so you read it, like that old joke about the newspaper,What's black and white and read all over? only you say it instead of read it, so you think they're referring to a color rather than an act. That's the clever part. Oh, am I getting way too in depth for this tired old joke? Sorry).

But as to the missing widgets and gadgets, I've asked some of the best internet people I know about those. A brother and a friend. Oh, but they are two different people. I guess one is my brother and my friend, but the other is not my brother cause she's a girl and a Hornbuckle, so not my brother, see? But a friend.

Anyway.

After only sleeping a measly five hours or so on Tuesday night, I made up for it smashingly by sleeping fourteen hours last night.

It's a good thing that I finally woke up or else people might have wondered if I had gone and met my Maker.

Ah, people being Drew and the cats, considering they are the only ones around this morning. But still.

Although it wouldn't have been the first time to have met him, my Maker, that is; I've met him already, and honestly, I am in no rush to leave this earth. Not because he isn't awesome or anything like that, though. Maybe it's all the green, cause I do love green as I said before, and there happens to be a ton of green things here.

And maybe it's the people too.

Okay, definitely it's the people.

People like my mom, who make sure that my kitchen looks like this,

stocked with all sorts of delicious and American food, so that I don't have to go to bed hungry.

You know, they don't have pretzels in Japan.

Okay, they sort of do, but they aren't the same. And the same goes for Ritz crackers, too, if you were wondering.

And I was craving some pretzels like crazy. For a month. And now they are downstairs in our kitchen, just a stairs descent away, and this makes me feel so happy.

It's amazing how much comfort a well-stocked kitchen can provide.

Just to let you know

I will not be blogging as frequently for a stretch here. My sweet Drew has some time off work, as do I right now, and I am gonna jump on this and let some other things go as I focus on being home with him.

And other things totally means my blog. But so as not to make this dear blog feel singled out, it also may or may not mean going to the gym.

We'll see.

Please enjoy yourselves and I'll try not to forget how to write or use a treadmill in the meantime.