Blackberry God

I think most of us would rather the god we serve conform to us rather than us to them- our own "personal Jesus" as Johnny Cash sings.  Picking what we can jive with and tossing out what we can't is just what we do.  In a way it helps us find a connection because, just like with people, we want to have something in common in order to like that person.  Essentially, we are probably all self centered and want it to be about us most of the time.  Or maybe that's just me.

These thoughts have stemmed from a recent conversation with a new coworker, Ms. Lillian.  Sometimes I think we are kindred spirits and our paths have so many similarities and that's why we were supposed to meet.  Maybe she's my future. I don't know.  She has so much class and is one of the most dignified women I've come across (one distinguishing difference between us).  She told me a story about when she was a little girl and her brothers and sisters (17 of them!) threw her in a pond to teach her how to swim.  She started sinking, got all choked up on the water and they fished her out, left her by the pond, and ran to their house.  Ms. Lillian says she remembers coming to beside a blackberry bush.  She said,"I don't know how I got there but I woke up and coughed the water out.  That's how you know God is moving.  I be he was up there saying, 'I know they didn't leave my baby in those blackberry bushes!'"

I love that.  Everytime I think about her saying that last part, it warms me up.  The idea that God would call his people "baby" is delightful.  It humanizes him and makes me feel adored.  When God talks to me, I imagine him speaking that way.  Like he's been sitting on a front porch watching everything go on and commenting on it under his breath.  Shaking his head when we do something michevious and think that we can get away with it.  Miranda Lambert has a line in one of her songs that goes, "I heard Jesus he drank wine and I bet we'd get along just fine.  He could calm a storm and heal the blind and I bet he'd understand a heart like mine."  That resonates, doesn't it?  Makes him like us but a little more forgiving and understanding.  And a little less gravitas on his part, someone we could kick it with.  What movie was it that the character said they imagined Jesus wore a tuxedo tshirt? 

I'm not saying that scripture is a salad bar where you choose what you want to put on top of lettuce and leave the other toppings aside.  I think it's more important to be human, to be what were created for.  Mistakes, imperfections, ugly inside-out crying faces and all.  And maybe along the way we sneak some unexpected goodness in there, some decency toward each other.  And that's how you know that God is moving. 

I've probably said these things before.  But sometimes, when my mind is a tangled ball of rubber bands, it helps to remind myself.

A closet door and picture frames

The dreaded changing of the clothes for the fall/winter season.  Em always zips up my "pop up" travel closet, pictured above, when she comes over and kills herself laughing.  I sent her this picture today and she said, "I can't wait for you to have a closet with a door and nobody else's pictures in your frames."  The things you do and have when you live out of a bedroom...

A glance of the golden years

Everyone has a favorite in their family.  A favorite cousin, brother, parent, aunt or uncle.  Today, mama and I saw my favorite great aunt and uncle at their surprise 50th wedding anniversary party. 

(I can get away with saying that they're my favorites because my family does not read my blog.)

Uncle Pete (whose name is not really Pete or Peter- no one remembers when or why he picked that name up) and Aunt Ellen are the one of the most adorable couples, and a true testament of a successful marriage.  Not only have they been together since they were teenagers, they've been members of the same church for just about as long as they've been married, they suffered through the loss of a teenage son, and they housed my meme and her six young children when she left her husband and had nowhere else to go.  Mama says it was like living with the 1970's George Jones and Tammy Wynette (minus the drinking and D-I-V-O-R-C-E). 

What sticks out in my mind about Uncle Pete and Aunt Ellen is their loyalty to family.  When my papa had his accident that caused him to be a quadriplegic, they stayed with us at the hospital.  In fact, they drove their RV to stay with us and someone broke in the thing and stole $500 out of it.  They took Mama and I to Lizard Thicket(s?), the only time I remember ever eating there, and Aunt Ellen was so warm and comforting to me.  She was also a lot of fun to just talk to.  Uncle Pete has a small farm and a horse with my name on it.  A couple years ago he had this horse that was trained and "housebroken" that he was saving for me.  I couldn't take it but I loved that he remembered how much I want a horse.

My favorite part of the afternoon, other than the unexpected soul food, was hearing how the lovebirds first met and decided to get married.  Aunt Ellen's cousin wanted to "sneak away" and get married to Uncle Pete's best friend.  So, unbeknownst to Aunt Ellen, they rode to Georgia with their friends so they could get married.  Aunt Ellen and Uncle Pete stayed in the backseat and got to know each other.  Before they left, Uncle Pete asked her if she wanted to get married.  She said, "I don't care, whatever you wanna do."  They weren't able to tie the knot that night and Aunt Ellen got her behind tore up when she got home around 2 am.  But her mom told them they could get married so they did, she was 15 and he was 18. 

I don't know anything about marriage or how in the world people happily stay together as long as they do.  But I'm glad that they do.

Keys me

The great thing about being the sculpture worker is having access to keys to get in when no one else is there.  If I go in to work during the week I get overwhelmed and distracted by all the students.  One class is pretty large and especially amusing. 

This week, and this coming week, I'm training at the new job.  It was supposed to be just a part time, every other weekend for a couple of hours job.  Now it's turned in to being the fill-in person, which is fine I guess because I need the money.  But the training means getting up at 5:45 am, with the roosters and school teachers.  I think maybe I need to be more assertive about my time, considering they never tell me when I'll finish for the day.  They're under the impression that I'm still a college student, which I don't correct them because it's too confusing to explain.  So when I say I've got to be at class at 2, they'll understand and let me go.  This is sneaky and I think some would consider it lying, but it would work to my advantage so I may have to go with it.  Heh heh heh.  Hey- I've got things to do!

This week I'm hoping to finish and fire my porcelain piece, finish two-three drawings, and maayyybe start my next steel piece.  GO GO GO GO GO

Houses you can't see from the road

Heber's family and a couple family friends take turns making Sunday lunches.  They've been doing it for several years now and my favorite place to go it to his Aunt and Uncle's home.  They live right on the outskirts of Saluda and about a half mile from Greenwood County.  They have a very long, dirt driveway that leads you past his Uncle's big shop straight to the front of their home.  I love driving up to it because it's surrounded by woods, with a creek in the back, and there is always a cat or dog lying on the porch. Like this guy:

On Friday night we went to Squealin' on the Square in Laurens for some bbq.  Heber opted for three hotdogs, ice cream, and my leftovers.  Which turned out well for him because his family cooked a ton of bbq for lunch today.  And it was terrific, probably better than what I ate at the festival.

After lunch we ventured out behind the house, into the woods.  I have always loved walking through woods, losing track of time.  I can overcome the bugs and the tall grass tickling the sides of my legs- although the gnats today were resilient little boogers and kept attacking me in the ears and eyes.  When I was a kid and we first moved to the house near my Meme's, we didn't have a lawn mower at the time.  The grass got so tall and wild that I could literally lie down in it and not be seen.  My mama has always wished the house was pushed further back so that you couldn't see it from the road.  She wanted her hiding space in the woods while I found mine in the field that was the backyard, where Queen Anne's lace tracked the fence line.  To this day I think that's the reason I adore the color, design, and texture of that plant. 

Dum dum dum-dum

If you read that title and recognized that it was the wedding march then you've probably been to as many weddings as I have (five this year to be exact). I feel like I've been a contestant in Four Weddings: judging who had the best dress, the best setup, the best food, etc. 

On Saturday night, my roomate got married.  And of course being her roomate means being one of the beck-and-call girls.  Which I'm happy to do because I love organizing, planning, and putting something together.  I should be a professional organizer like you see on Hoarders.  Not really, I'd probably end up lighting a fire and burning all of the shit down so I wouldn't have to deal with funk funk smells, cat corpses, and emotional attachments to Cabbage Patch kids.

This wedding was very mellow.  There was no walking down the aisle, there were no gifts, no first dance, none of that.  As my roomie said, "We're just gonna go up there, say our howdy-do's and call it a day."  That's my kind of wedding.

The reception was very lovely.  It was hosted out in the woods at this lady's house who is one of my Aunt's clients.  The hostess could talk a blue streak but had a very nice house and a sweet horse named Dixie that she said I could come ride whenever I wanted.

Mama, Auntie, and I don't know why I'm holding her bouquet- I promise that doesn't have any symbolism or premonitions attached to it.

New uncle.  He's nice, I like him.

Naturally, the question everyone had for me was, "What are you going to do when she moves??"  That's a good question, one that I haven't worked out yet.  I've still got about two months. 

That was the generic response.

Truthfully, I'm not sure if I should try to find a place to rent here or live with Mama in the hometown.  That would be a bit of a drive every day so I'm not sure if it would even out with the price of gas versus the price of renting.  I would love love love to get out of here, but everything in it's time and I think that will be coming soon enough.