Grandest of Them All

A light went out in this world on Sunday, December 28th when my dear sweet grandmother, Geneva Libersat Theall, passed. While we all try to find comfort in the loss of a beautiful and lively soul, we've been reminded of lovely happy memories. She was a spitfire and a joy to be around, one we will all surely miss.

In trying to get her affairs in place, I remembered a paper I wrote seven years ago for a Public Speaking course. We were assigned to write a tribute speech about someone we admired. Well, I went to the first person I generally think of honoring in my life, my grandma. She's a special lady, wise and knowing, with a good sense of humor.

She could bring people together during any situation like the time she started a poker game during a layover at the airport. No family event was complete without a roaring round of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and every birthday you got a phone call with her singing "Happy Birthday" just to you.

Anyway, I wrote a tribute speech just for my grandmother. I had to dig through the garage to unearth the old laptop and hope and pray that the paper still existed. Luckily for me, I found exactly what I was looking for.

Just for Geneva, Grandma Extraordinaire

“A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong she is until she gets into hot water.” Eleanor Roosevelt pegged the women of my family. My mother, my aunts and my sister seem to share the same characteristic of unfailing strength, especially when confronted with a difficult situation. I can’t neglect to mention the amount of love, creativity and positive outlook that flows through each of these women as well. I see these as family traits passed down to younger generations, but the source of it all, I believe, comes from the strongest link of our family, my grandmother. My grandmother, Geneva, is the most positive, caring, creative and strong woman I have ever met and I don’t even think she realizes it.

            After spending five minutes with my grandmother you would immediately understand why she was a first grade teacher for 39 years. Her beautiful smile, bubbly personality and ever-lasting positive outlook on life is perfect for the classroom. She is known in our family for waking us up with a song every morning. Even every day activities like cleaning up or driving to the grocery store has an equally appropriate tune as well. No job is too great or too important that it can’t have its own theme song; to her way of looking at it, that musical ditty only makes the work more fun for everyone, and she’s right. “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes”  is her classic morning wake-up. She’s always looking to learn something new and keep up with today’s new technology. Take the computer for instance: Grandma can successfully check her email and look up weather.com all on her own now. It only took 3 months to teach her how to unlock her cell phone or send a picture without taking 63 shots of herself instead of her target. I’ve even taught her how to send text messages using T9 word—the next task now is teaching her how to make a smiley face and boy, is she excited about that!

 

When the chips are down no one can pick you up like Grandma. It’s something about the way she encloses her arms around you for that “welcome back” hug when you visit her. Maybe it’s the way she pats your hand and say’s “Chere, baby!” that makes all seem right in the world. Either way my grandmother comforts like no one else! Perhaps she’s had enough practice raising four children and working with kids for almost a half century. She is fearless when it comes to tears. Distance between us makes it hard to get that Grandma-hug in, but she embraces the challenge and comforts us through a simple “I love you” card or offers a comforting word over the phone. No amount of space can keep Grandma from sending her love!

Need help with any project at all? She’ll be there with bells on ready to help in any way she can. She’s a master with projects, too. I’m a poster project princess because of my Grandmother, AKA the Queen of Arts-&-Crafts.  My grandfather was a professor at Texas Tech making both my grandparents advocates for education, but they came to understand that a teacher’s salary doesn’t pay for too much. My grandmother wanted her kids to have the best she could provide, so she used whatever she had to work with. She taught her daughters how to sew and embroider all their clothes, baked goods were used for gifts at the holidays and summer long camping trips were taken as a family vacation and a learning experience. My grandmother taught me how to make a backyard into a jungle full of adventure. She showed me the secret to drawing a perfectly proportioned person and how doodles can turn any school supplies into a work of art. She let me take her childhood stories and toys and turn her house into a time machine. I am never bored when in the presence of my grandmother; she is always full of life and full of fun.

            When I think of my Grandmother so many stories of perseverance and strength come to mind, it’s often hard to pick just one. I think of the strength it took for her five year old self to donate her favorite green tricycle for the cause during WWII. I think of the strength it took to pack up her new family and move to the strange town of Lubbock, making her the first in her family of thirteen generations to ever leave Louisiana. I think of the strength she found as she continues on with her life since the passing of my grandfather, almost 20 years ago. My grandmother has always been an active person, constantly moving and playing with her family. I think of the new challenges she’s facing as she battles against her biggest hurdle yet, rheumatoid arthritis. But she is a determined woman, rising to the challenge and beating the odds. No physical condition has kept her from hopping on a plane to visit her seven grandchildren, see them graduate, dance, run track, get married or perform in some way. She has driven to Mount Rushmore and visited her family roots in Nova Scotia. There’s the challenge of being an older person being in a young person’s world. She is determined to try new things and refuses to surrender to old age. The use of a cane and replacement of teeth has yet to slow her down—though we occasionally have to back-track to airports, video stores and parking lots looking for said teeth and cane, she continues on with life as if nothing is different. The woman is resilient!

            Whether she realizes it or not, my grandmother has passed on many wonderful qualities to her own children who have passed them on to theirs. By watching these role models and learning from the best, I hope to pass these same qualities to my children some day. I look up to my grandmother because she is her caring, positive, creative and strong—to me, the ingredients that make her one of my biggest heroes.

 

 It might be a little out of date--Grandma had a "Merry Walker" to roll her along, no more cane, and she texted beautifully with her iPhone. Emojis decorated every text followed by a concluding "over and out" or "roger that!" Getting a hug from her was easier since that she lived down the street from my parents and every Sunday in town was dedicated to visiting Grandma for her pill packs, coffee prep, and calendar change. Outdated paper or not, I'm glad I could be reminded of her again.

 

I cherish every hug, every adventure, and all the time I had with my Grandma.

Je t'aime beaucoup tout mon coeur, Grandma. I miss you so.

Welcome to the World, Baby Madeleine!

On a bright Saturday morning last February, I got a call from my Big Sister. In true Julie fashion, I rattled on about who knows what until I finally her asked, "what's up, Big Sister?"

"Oh, well, I've got some news," she casually replied. 

"Oh yeah? Tell me!" I'm such a little sister, anxious for new. 

"Well...Jason and I are having a baby!"

I then proceeded to weep and blubber on about how excited I was and congratulations and oh my gosh, you're going to be a mom! It was a very moving moment. I'm pretty sure Big Sister was laughing at my hysterics and repetitious exclamations of pure joy.

A few months later, we found out Baby Bean was a precious little girl! Pink, curls, sparkles, and bows! My little niece and I are going to have so much fun together, I just knew it! All I had to do was be patient until Baby Bean was made her grand debut on August 28th.

As her due date grew closer, we all debated just when exactly was Baby coming. Doctors moved up her date and then pushed it back a few times. We waited patiently just hoping Baby Bean would make her way safely into the world. By August 26th, Big Sister knew Baby Bean was either going to arrive right on time just like her dad or fashionably late like her mama. Well, we found out she's prompt just like her papa.

Baby Madeleine Elizabeth Duff arrived at 9:03 pm on August 28th, 7.5 lbs and 20 in long! 

(Middle name is for her Nannie Julie--Lucky little girl!)

She's a precious bundle of joy! Pyro Man and I got to visit the weekend after she was born and I had the best time just holding her. She is a beautiful creature and I can't believe she is actually here, a perfect combination of her mother and father. 

I'm always happy to hear about a friend's new niece or nephew. Babies are so precious and who doesn't love to hold their little hands or play with their little toes? I'm head over heels for my precious nephew, Michael, who is a hambone and a half. But seeing my Big Sister go through this wonderful miracle of pregnancy and holding her baby, her baby, I'm in complete and utter awe. 

Sometimes I think Big Sister should be back in the 5th grade reading The Babysitter's Club and trying to convince me that playing The Quiet Game was actually fun. Now here she is, a new mom with a brand new baby girl who is just that, brand new. Pregnancy, nature's coolest science fair project; taking two loving people and creating one unique human being. Madeleine has gotten me seeing babies in a whole new light.  

Don't get any crazy ideas, I'm all about being fun Nannie Julie/Aunt Ju-Ju right now! Bring on the weekend babysitting! When she gets big enough, I'll buy Madeleine her very first pair of tights and ballet shoes. And now for the better part of this post, more pictures of my sweet baby niece! 

We're going home! 

Papa Gary is wrapped around her little finger! 

Such a little Southern Lady in her seersucker bow!

Oh, sweet Madeleine, you are already loved beyond words! 

Autumn is a second spring...

I absolutely adore the fall season. It brings so much into the year with it's crisp, cool breeze and I can hardly wait to dive into the fall festivities this year!

Some of the things I love about autumn are the changes that come with it. The temperature changes from blisteringly hot to a cool and balmy feel. The leaves often change colors and although they don't last as long or as beautiful up here in Oklahoma as they are anywhere up north, it's a little more than what we get in Texas. My closet changes from sundresses and tank tops to warm sweaters and beautiful boots. Even my kitchen holds new aromas of pumpkin and cinnamon instead of summer fruit and cook out fixings. Everything changes and this particular fall will be a new change for me.

For the first time, I'm teaching a full year in one place I'm very familiar with. For the first time I have someone living in my house with me and he's no roommate, he's my husband. For the first time in my entire life, I've got a family all my own that includes a husband and not one, but two kitties. For the first time, ladies lunch with my mother and sister includes a brand new little southern lady, my niece, Madeleine. So many adjustments in a few short months and like a domino effect, each change will trickle down into many more changes through out the year. It's a whole new slice of life I'm looking forward to trying.

With so many new things I'd like to share, it's no wonder that I return to my blog. It's been some time since I've last been on here. My dedicated blogging fell by the wayside as life got a little more "grown up" after my masters. After I started teaching and delving into wedding planning, I found I wasn't too sure about what to post any more. There are only so many times you can write "I'm still planning" or "I'm still teaching" on a blog. Stepping away from my first year of teaching and a few months after our wedding, I do have some pretty great stories and decoration how-to's. Just like the season, this blog might have to go through its own change.

For now, I'll make the effort to post a few more times than every once in a blue moon. One last final note, a very Happy Heart Day to my sweet mother. She had her open heart surgery 15 years ago today. We are blessed beyond words for these extra fifteen years with her and I know she's happy to have had them, too. I love you, Mom, and I'm grateful to have you!

Mom finally home after the big surgery and surrounded by the family. 

Happy Sunday, everyone! Go enjoy the gorgeous new weather! 

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower" 

-Albert Camus

Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Today is Grandma's birthday, happy birthday, ma grandmere! She is seventy-eight years old today and still so young at heart! I'm thankful we get to spend her special day with her this year. There's been much going on, little I can write about, but this important event warranted a blog update. So have a wonderful day, Grandma! You deserve the best! All my heart, je t'aime beaucoup!

What Will She Say Next?

My grandmother is a hoot. She's in the winter of her life and yet, she's just as spunky as they come. Since moving her down to Dallas last summer, we've been able to visit with her more than we ever have. Even though she had a little health bump in the road and wound up in the hospital around Thanksgiving, she's finally back in her little apartment and feeling fit as a fiddle.

The funny thing about Grandma is that she has slowly been losing her filter. By "filter" I mean that inner block that stops you from saying things out loud that may be inappropriate. This filter usually keeps a person from making comments out loud that really should be kept to himself. Well, there are a select few who flat out ignore that filter, but that's another story.

Grandma just happens to say whatever is on her mind. She is seventy-seven years old and after that long, maybe she's just tired of blocking what she thinks. Grandma is a typical south Louisiana Southern Belle where manners are of the utmost importance. Either way, it always makes for a very interesting time with her because you honestly never know what she's going to say and more importantly, where she will say it.

Well. Grandma watches a lot of news and keeps up with her current events like no other. She's a human CNN scrolling newsreel. She loves to tell people about what she's read and get a good discussion going, but she has a habit of picking up controversial topics of discussions in public places.

Case in point, the other day while at lunch with my mother and grandmother, we were visiting with one of the restaurant's managers. This particular manager knows my mother and I as we frequent the restaurant for ladies lunches. He is in school to be a baker and upon hearing about my upcoming nuptials, he has given us business cards, pictures, and samples of his cakes, I'm assuming, in hopes that we'll hire him for a job. I have no idea what kind of cake I want; I don't even have a venue yet! Nevertheless, he's a very nice man and always stops to visit with us.

As we're chatting with nice manager man over his latest cake samples, Grandma chimes in. Oh lordy. "I know something you should make." Here it comes. "It's all the rage in London." Sweet Martha. "Breast milk ice cream." Neither Mom nor I had gotten that far in the newspaper. We're officially in the rabbit hole and going down fast.


There it is. The inappropriate topic for the day. There's no stopping it. I'm sitting there with my mouth on the floor and Mom is trying to hard to leave the table to hide in the bathroom. Chicken. Miraculously, the nice manager man had read the article and was completely comfortable with chatting with Grandma about it. He certainly had his opinion about breast milk, breast feeding and boob jobs. He chattered on in his thick Spanish accent much to Grandma's delight and there I still sat with my mouth hanging open.

Meanwhile Mom was stopped on the way to her hiding place by a table of women who also had serious opinions of breast milk ice cream. Then some waitresses stopped by to chime in with their two cents on the whole discussion. I was trapped in the Twilight Zone, everyone joining in this wildly weird conversation--but that's Grandma. She can bring a whole room full of people together even in the most peculiar ways.

As our elders grow older, they worry about becoming invisible. I know that's the last thing Grandma wants, which may be why she reaches out to people, inviting them into her interesting trains of thought. This is the strength that keeps her going. I love my Grandmother, I respect her a great deal, and I'm so happy to have this time with her. She adds a great deal of entertainment to our ladies lunches these days. Awkward though it may sometimes be, Grandma may not be the belle of the ball she once was, but she's definitely not invisible.

Happy Birthday, Big Sister!!

To my sweet Big Sister,

Happy Birthday!!!

I hope you have a fabulous day and I'm so glad Mom had you so I could have a big sister to play with--just kidding! But really, I'm lucky to have such a great older sibling like you!

Love, 

The Buglette

Little Chrismas Help

Friday afternoon and I'm on the phone with Mom, listening to her tell me about all the Christmas things she wishes we could do together. We want to bake goodness and sing Christmas songs, go shopping, and rope Dad into pulling down our holiday decorations. Heck, we just want to spend a little time together since we haven't gotten to do that in a long time, just the two of us. On and on we lament about all the holiday things we long to do and how we're missing our mother/daughter time when it hits me.

"Hey Mom--why don't I come down this weekend!"

"You...*sniff*...you can do that?!" Yes, Mom was a bit teary at that point and it only solidified the solution to our predicament.

"SURE! I don't have blocking for the first time in about four years. I've got the last of my school work under control--I can TOTALLY come down!"

So off like a shot, I began throwing things in a bag, packing up laundry, and tossing Honey in her crate--don't worry, I gave her lots of loving before she paraded her happy hiney in there. She's really a pretty good traveler.

Mom was so excited about my quick trip. She decided it would be even better to surprise Dad and he was definitely surprised. I wish I had a camera to capture his priceless expression when I walked in the door. Brow furrowed, eyes squinting and a dropped jaw. "Well, hey. What are you doing here?" That's Dad's way of saying, "Yeehaw! My youngest child is home!"

Saturday we ventured out into the windy weather in search of the perfect Christmas tree. Our first trip to Home Depot, Mom walked right up the fattest tree in the lot. Petting it's pretty branches, she stepped a little closer and wrapped her arms around it, looked back at us and declared this was the tree for us. How could Dad and I argue with her pleading look?

Home we went with this year's Christmas tree in tow, ready to be decked in all the holiday paraphernalia we own. Again, I wished I brought my camera so pardon the fuzzy pictures as they are off my cell phone.

I told you we had a 12ft tree my freshman year of high school--And yes, Pyro Man, it was 12ft high. I'm going to hunt down those photos to show you, too. Well, this year's isn't a that tall, but certainly does take up an immense amount of the designated Christmas tree area. It stands 8ft tall, probably 10ft high on the platform we placed it on, but the circumference on this puppy is wide. I actually had to help Dad set this one up this year. Dang.

We had a bit of trouble of getting the tree into a perfectly right up position.

The leaning tower of O Tannenbaum.

Mom helped instruct us in the proper way to string the lights.

Dad fixed the tinsel according to Mom's draping techniques and I will say, it does look picturesque.

After hanging all of our favorite ornaments, we present you with the Russell Family Christmas Tree.

It's just so huggable!

Overall, it was a wonderful impromtu trip. Mom and I did get our shopping in...except it was more shopping for my upcoming trip to England rather than Christmas shopping. Dang. Guess that's on my to-do list for this week along with my defensive driving course. Perhaps I might have gotten a ticket for maybe going a smidge above the speed limit a couple weeks back. Perhaps. Maybe. Possibly.

I had a lovely surprise come in the mail while I was home. My godmother sent me a lovely graduation gift.



It's a beautiful silver and turquoise ring she wore everday for about fifteen years. We've been pen pals all the years I've been in school here in Oklahoma. She is actually my Dad's sister-in-law as well as my godmother. She's such a neat lady, too--She shares little tid-bits of family history in the letters and I've saved every one. What a lovely and thoughtful gift! It means the world to have a family treasure passed down and I know I'll cherish this ring.

Off to class I go--it's the last week of classes I have as a student here at OCU! 11 more days and I will officially complete my career as a college student. Crazy. After that, it'll be on to whatever adventure lies ahead for me.

Honey has packed herself so I don't forget her.

Happy Monday!!

Treat Lady & The Cookie Queen

Ever seen Everybody Loves Raymond? Marie is always trying to feed her sons with steaming plates of Italian food. My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Toula's aunt pushs off racks of lamb onto her vegetarian fiance or else her mother is constantly providing the troupe with Greek food. My mother has a thing for serving sweets and I think it started with Grandma.

Case in point: This past Saturday I went for a visit with my mother and sister to my grandmother's new apartment. You might remember that we moved her from Lubbock to Dallas this past summer, but if you missed that post, you can catch up here.

Grandma has settled in nicely with quite a few of the items once seen in her little green and white house. She's even made herself a little nest around he comfy chair and it's always a treat to see what she's going to pull out from the stacks around said chair. Speaking of treats, she always has them. That's a grandma thing, right? To always have something on hand or in their purse?

In any case, she's always got some sort of treat on hand at her house. Rolos, Butterfingers, the cotton candy I brought her from the fair, and apparently pudding. That was the biggest thing she kept trying to offer us on Saturday.

We used to joke that Grandma was known as Treat Lady to our dogs. While Big Sister was in law school, Grandma would sometimes babysit Glory, her the golden retriever. Big Sister kept noticing that Glory was consistently a little more plump after weekends at Grandma's. On one particular visit, Big Sister observed Glory hiding behind Grandma's big chair where a pile of dog treats were sitting there at her disposal. The mystery was solved. From then on, Grandma was forever known as Treat Lady. We still have to watch her from time to time with Piper--that dog is definitely getting to be a little portly, but I don't think that's Grandma's fault this time. Something about Dad's midnight popcorn munchies might though.

My mother is the ultimate provider when it comes to feeding the masses. Take for instance my thesis performance two weeks ago. Mom and I decided it might be nice to provide an easy dinner for the weary traveling posse that came to see the show. There was so much on my plate at the time that I just let her roll with the idea and roll she did. Mom and Dad came into my apartment with cases of soft drinks, chips, deli meat, bread, fruit, relish items, and one large box of Texas beer. Can't blame Dad for wanting to bring the good stuff--Oklahoma beer should just be outlawed, it's so bad. You should hear our Thanksgiving menu sometime. It's a little crazy.

Even though Mom is great with larger dinners, her specialty lies in the sweets department, my weakness. She is dubbed the Cookie Queen to all who know her. Cookies were used for spirit gifts, birthday treats, and study snacks--It didn't take long for me to catch on why everyone always wanted to study at my house. While working at the theater, Mom would bring a tray of cookies for opening night gifts for the cast. I swear, one night I saw the stage hands dealing cookies behind the sets. "I'll trade the peanut butter for your macaroon!" Not even kidding.

Her cookies are so good, they bought me all the car rides I needed in high school. She even did cookies for my friend's boyfriend's birthday in exchange for an extra week of rides.  Saved a heck of a lot of gas money, I'll you that! There is a particular chocolate chip that my friends have affectionally dubbed Mrs. Russsell Cookies or to my college friends,  Julie Russell's Mom's Cookies. Once I had a friend ask me  why were Mrs. Russell Cookies so darn good?! I answered without evening thinking, "Because they're baked with love." It's true. All hail the Cookie Queen.

Friday's are known as Cookie Day at Dad's office. Why? Because Mom bakes on Thursday and sends things up to his office Friday. It can be anything from a general chocolate chip cookie to specialty banana bread or even a festive birthday cake for a co-worker. Dad's assistant always places the treats on a special plate and then wheels it around on a cart from office to office for people to grab a bite before they're gone. Mom likes doing it because it puts a smile on the faces of so many people at his office. When cookies don't make their weekly appearance, Dad hears about it. Apparently his assistant emailed him this past week to say that the cookies were sorely missed. (The last four Friday's have not had anything because Mom's been in OKC with me. Whoops. Sorry, Dad's Office!).

Needless to say, I will probably follow in the foot steps of my family Treat Lady and Cookie Queen relatives, forever trying to pass along something sweet to any and all who enter my home. In fact, it's already happened. I've come to enjoy cooking for friends and passing baked goods to the office whenever I can. Ah! Look out world, there's another Treat Lady on the rise and there's no stopping her!

Week 5, Day 29 Captain's Log

We're four numbers down with two left to go. We had one heck of a busy schedule this past weekend. Rehearsal all day Saturday and part of Sunday AND we have another rehearsal tonight. Three days in a row of working with me--how'd these kids get so lucky?

This is the last week of rehearsals they'll have to learn material though. After that, we'll be cleaning and gearing up for the performance. Sometimes I can't believe that all this work is actually going to be put on stage. For me, it's great practice for future choreographic endeavors and teaching jobs. I forget sometimes that all this work will be on a stage with lights and costumes and a full audience.

Crazy.

After our long day Saturday, I came home and crashed on the pull-out sofa bed. I woke up in a dazed, drooling, and confused state when my parents came banging in from a shopping adventure. Apparently between the time I closed my eyes and the time I woke, I lost over an hour and gained a lovely waffle face imprint. Fabulous. I don't think it really registered how exhausted I was.

Then I had to think it through. Hmmm, stayed up the night before the prep for Saturday. I was up at 7:00 the next morning to review my work and in the studio before 9:00. Lunch at 12:30 and back in the studios by 1:00 until about 4:00. I still had a four minute piece to choreograph for the next day. It made me wonder how some of my professors and seasoned choreographers do it. No really, how do you do it?

Most of my time is spent prepping for every rehearsal. I take at least an hour to review the choreography of new pieces, sometimes two if I feel its really necessary (which is most often the case). That doesn't even include the time I've spent choreographing the work (which can take a while if you force Creativity's hand because Time does not allow you much leeway). AH!

This week was a little unorthodox anyway--my mother was living with me. Hi, Mom! I know you're reading this and know I love you dearly, but I think if I build you that mother-in-law suite like I promised you when I was eight years old, it will have to be a separate building completely.

No, really. I do love you. I think my apartment is a little too tiny for two women, eighty costumes, and a whole lot of stubbornness. We had quite a week--Mom learned that water glasses and coffee mugs go in separate places, the ice maker takes a while to refill, and I learned that she loves to leave me folded paper towels on my kitchen counters.

Its funny because I lived in her house for 18 plus years (still do on large stints of vacations) and I know where she keeps everything, how the house is set-up for her system, yadda yadda. The tables seem to have turned because she was living in my little house where I have my own system of running things (Weird as they may, they make sense to me). It's just a different and we both talked about how it was a little strange. Suddenly she was living in my place and I've built my own nest up here in OKC. The pangs of growing up.

Weekend trips are different from week long stays. Of course, there wasn't much time for fun so we were forced to discuss only the topic of the thesis--I'm starving for fresh new subjects to talk about in my life. Costumes have taken over my dinning room and living room. Mom has a whole sewing station set-up with a nest of supplies sitting next to her. It's all cleaned up for now until she comes back again next week. I've got a second look-see coming up that's to show off the entire show, including costumes. I think living together will probably be different this second go around.

I enjoyed making dinner for the two of us--something she always does for me when I'm home. It was nice to return the favor and I really liked having someone at the table with me. We did get our Chik-fil-a fix and I loved that she came to watch ballet class and some of rehearsal. Even though I've taken on the role of director/choreographer, inside I still have that nine year old self dying to show off for Mom and Dad.

Though it might have been an interesting week together, it was certainly a learning and growing experience for our mother daughter relationship. I think, as a daughter, we know mom's can take the hard knocks from us now and again. They have the shoulders we can cry on, the arms to hold us, and the strength to help us when our legs have gone out from under us.There's a different persona I take on completely for anyone else I am around because I can't truly be as relaxed with them as I can with Mom. It's Mom, she loves me no matter what and there's no fear that I'll be left by myself. Mom is always there. She's one tough cookie, but she isn't superwoman all the time. She needs just as many hugs and just as much help as I do. I am so appreciative for all she does for me and I couldn't include it all on here, but know it starts with giving birth to me and ends with this thesis. Those two things alone count for more than a lifetime worth of thanking!

So Mom, next time you come, know that the ice maker will be full, I'll buy you extra paper towels and chicken broth for your soup. I'll take you for a Sonic Coke when you need one and if you want to replace a bathroom rug, that's OK, too. I'll turn down the air conditioning without making a face and I'll brave the basement with you if you need a protector from the hairy spiders downstairs.  It's the least I can do for my little sweat-shop worker! I love you, Mom!

Back to School

Ah, August. That merry month that sends children scurrying back to their little school houses where they can soak up the knowledge of the world from their little desks.

Or if you're a college student, it means hauling your life back to whatever dorm you live in, unpacking your livelihood once again and prepping your body for the daily jog you have around campus to get to your classes that will be in about eight different buildings. Maybe. I'm in the same building all day, every day, but then again my college experience is vastly different from most other people. C'est la vie.

Back to school. I have so many memories of back to school's gone by (This is starting to sound a little cheesy, no?). I always enjoy the back to school shopping part. So many school supplies are out and that means new pretty pens, fancy notebooks, fresh paper spirals, pencil bags, highlighters, and best of all, calendars. I love shopping for calendars. Must be a sickness because I love to plan out the year and write out to-do's! Ah, it makes my little heart go pitter pat! Color me nerd, but I nothing brings me more joy than to fill in my planner.

Well, I'm all set for this LAST semester, my final time at school. Got my books, my dance duds, thesis costumes, props, etc. Hard to believe I'm almost done with my masters. What's a little more scary is that I'm really and truly finishing up my time in the education system as a student. There's always the possibility of going back, but I'm pretty darn sure a break in order after this last run. I'm as ready as I ever will be for Monday, my last first day of school.

I remember growing up and on the first day of every school year Mom would make Big Sister and I take a back-to-school picture in front of our entertainment center. (I tried to dig up all of them but really, I had other things on my plate so I opted for first two I was able to find. I'm not much for patience on these sorts of things.) Anyway, calculating it up in my head, I started trying to figure how long I've been in school. I started when I was four, finishing up now and I'm 23 = 19 years just about.

Good grief. That's a long time. Here I am, first day of Pre-K--silly girl. She has no idea that she will have 18 more years left to go carrying her lunch to school and hauling a backpack twice her weight.



But darn if I don't just look so adorable in my little watermelon outfit! I loved that outfit, Mom made it for me! I wish I could remember what my first thoughts of school were. I'm pretty sure I had no clue I'd still be dancing this many years later. Nice surprise though!

And for one brief shining year, Big Sister and I were in the same school. Five years apart never really put us in the same place except for my kindergarten year. Here I am, loving on Big Sister in my baby sister kind of way and you can clearly see just how THRILLED she is to have wart like me for a sister.



It's still very much that way.



Ah, sisterly love.

Happy Back to School everyone!!

The Pelican is Coming

My dear sweet grandmother is making a giant move from Lubbock, TX to Dallas to be closer to her family! For the past three years she's been in and out of an assisted living facilities and her own home so she finally made the decision to be in a settled place closer to her family.

I'm thrilled to have her here! It will be nice to be able to visit her in her new little home, stop by and enjoy a glass of tea or a cup of coffee with her, and even have her partake in some of our family meals and holidays. As excited as I am for Grandma to be closer, I am going to miss her little house.

See, her house is a special place to me as it is for all four of her kids, their spouses, and the other six grandchildren. I know everyone in the family has their own special memory her green and white house and this weekend as we move Grandma's things out and into her new home, it will be a tad bit bitter sweet to say goodbye to the house that has been apart of the history in my mother's family.

My grandmother is such a neat lady--I know everyone can say that about their grandparents and perhaps I'm a bit biased, but I truly think she's one of a kind. Born in south Louisiana, she grew up along the bayou on the Koulee Kinney, a branch in the Vermilion Bayou. That's right, we're some ragin' cajuns is what we are! At least on Mom's side.



When she got older her daddy gave her two options for a career: be a nurse or be a teacher. He didn't want her looking at naked bodies so she became a teacher and a dang good one at that. She retired as the ripe age of 70 after teaching over 39 years, mainly working with first graders.

When Grandpa got a job teaching at Texas Tech, they packed up their family and moved to Lubbock. The joke in the family is that Grandma started crying when the hit the cap rock! This house is where she's stayed the last 48 years of her life. It's hard to believe we're going to be saying goodbye to it here pretty soon. I have to remember though that home is where the heart is. Still and all, I'm sure she's feeling a little nervous about picking up her life she's made there and coming down here.

In the past few years I haven't been able to visit like I would have wanted. For some reason though, on a mother's day trip to Lubbock back before my sophomore year in college, I decided for some reason or another to take a few pictures of Grandma's house. I'm so glad I did, too, because I can't find any others from the few times I've been back. I spent some time this morning flipping through them and thinking through past visits to Grandma's house.



Grandma's house is pretty special just like I'm sure you, dear reader, have a relative's special house you love to visit. I can see myself now pulling into her tiny drive, trying to miss the poor pecan tree that's been run over about eight times. I can see myself popping out of the car and into the hot summer Lubbock air, just feels like I walked into an oven. I race across the grass, past the white rod iron decorative columns and onto her concrete front porch. I throw open the screen and push through that heavy hunter green front door and step into her living room.

Everything is in place just as it has been since I was a kid. The giant comfy chair is next to the front door although it's different, Grandpa's chair has long since been gone. There's the John Wayne statue still sitting on the floor like always. Her dining room is bright from the summer sun and she has music out of her special piano.

If I keep walking through I can enter her tiny kitchen. The room is the one I associate with the smell of Grandma's house and that's because of the gas stove--I love that thing. I have one in my apartment and I think of Grandma every time I use it. I can hear her turning on the gas with the tick, tick, tick of the ignitor before the light catches. She's got built in cabinets in her walls that hold spices and packages of jello pudding. Grandma once told me she liked to open packages of jello mix and sneak a taste when she was a kid. I think about that every time I see a box.

On her washer she has the mechanical Coke can that dances when you play music. Of course you can hear the radio from the garage that's playing some of her favorite oldies. There's the painted wine glass sitting on her counter top filled with coins to take for bread money. Big sister and I used to take a few quarters and walk down to the gas station on the corner of her street, Preston's, for summer time treats. It's been closed for a few years now.

Her kitchen window looks out of her backyard that's in full bloom with gorgeous roses and foliage like you wouldn't believe. Even though he's been gone a while, I can see Thor, her German shepherd, chasing a ball around the backyard. If I walk out the back door, I'd can see her barbeque pit going and the picnic table just on the other side. Most trips we'd come in in time for burgers or something with part of my family. Aunt D out there ready to visit with us and commiserate with me about getting eaten up by mosquitoes. Uncle B would be there in his wranglers with his white cowboy hat and hopefully a barrel full of their homemade rocky road. I can see their daughter, my cousin, as the freckled face kid running around in the backyard. It's crazy to me that she's already a young woman.

There is a path of stones that lead up to a swing that's covered in a vines. Every morning during our stay I'd wake up and head straight for the swing where Grandma would be in her caftan with the brilliant blue peacocks and the gold trim. She'd have a coffee cup in hand and the newspaper spread out on the wooden coffee table. I'd call dibs on the comics (still do) and we spend the time reading and visiting on that swing, just enjoying the morning.

Her house is the house my mother grew up in. Her house is where my sister and I built our "Kids Club" around of her clothes line. Her house is where I learned to make pain perdu ("Lost Bread" or French Toast). Her house has the beautiful backyard with the hidden swing and apricot tree I love to pick. It's given some wonderful memories to me and I hope to everyone else who has even been there. It's sad to say goodbye, but now we have the opportunity to make some new memories with Grandma here. I know we can make this next home for her just as loving and warm as she made her home for us.

Happy Belated Birthday, Piper!

Yesterday was my precious pup's birthday.





Six years ago in the early fall of my senior year we traveled to a breeder out in east Texas to meet this little ball of fluff. She was spunky and eager to please. She was absolutely fascinated with the human hand and loved to explore all sorts of places. She also had a habit of falling asleep in her food bowl. It was love at first woof!

Little Piper has been the light of my life since day one. We affectionally dubbed at Hyper Piper or Pirana Puppy those first few months we had her. Fortunately we grew out of the chewing stage, but she still has such a zest for life. Sometimes it's a bit much for our visitors. Now she's getting on up there and becoming a little spinster. She doesn't mind though. She's treated to some special things at our house like front seat access on road trips.



Empty ice cream cartons.



(We really don't do that any more--that was a one time treat.)

And of course there are the peanut butter treats...



She hangs on my every word...especially with a treat in hand.



And because I am her puppy sister, she has just as much right to my bed as she does hers. Including the space I'm already occupying.




She's been my buddy though so I'm happy to share. Who could resist such a face anyway?




Happy Birthday, precious Piper! Here's to another six wonderful years ahead of us!

Sweet Honey Child

There's a new addition to my family! I welcome to the world the little orange fluff ball, Honey!!



She's the sweetest little girl you've ever seen! Purrs like a little motor boat and loves to snuggle up with her people. Big Sister happened to find Honey at a local Petsmart in McKinney and called Mom about her this past weekend. Three trips to go visit the kitty and we finally broke down. Something about her purring in my arms just made me cave.

We'd been looking at a lot of shelters around town, looking at kittens, holding them, trying to figure out how to add in a kitty to our family. I really wanted to adopt. That was super important to me because there are so many cats in shelters that I would like to help at least one out. My first cat, Esme, was a shelter kitty. Mom rescued her for my 6th birthday and she lived for a quite a long time just as fat and happy as can be.

Honey is actually a foster kitty. Her foster family picked up Honey and brother when they were three weeks old. Since she's been hand raised, bottle fed, etc., Honey is extremely loving, is very docile, and has a sweet disposition. Although, I'm slowly finding she's a feisty little creature, too.

She's learning the lay of the land here at our homestead, but she's not quite on her own yet. Too many places little Honey can hide including under the couch and let me tell you--I ain't no 8 year old who can squeeze behind the couch to catch little kitty. I should preface that she likes to find these hiding places from Piper.

Yes, the light of my life, the giant, loveable fur ball is a little scary to poor Honey. This is about as close as she will get to Piper.



It's a work in progress.

Piper just wants to play and love all over kitty like her own woobies ("woobie" - a pet stuffed animal), but Honey is having none of that! She is happy running from Piper and Piper is happy to follow with a spunky wagging tale.

We've found that Honey loves feather toys, hates the sound of flushing toilets, and really hates when you don't pay attention to her. Recently discovered that she will try to hop in the shower with you to get your attention. Her foster mom gave us this little fluffy bag she sleeps in--we call it her baguette. She curls up in it, pads it with her little paws, and rubs her face all over it. Pretty darn cute if you ask me.

She's a wonderful distraction here at our house and we're having a lot of fun getting to know our new little Honey. Honey Bee. Honey Child. Honey Bun. Are you totally gagging over the nicknames yet? Still have to get her tags for her honeybee collar, a vet visit, and her used to the dog. That one might take a while.

A happy hump day to all! I must go make sure Honey isn't terrorizing poor Piper! Oh dear.

Going Home

There's this funny transformation that happens when a child goes away to college, they suddenly can't wait to get back home. I used to think I'd want to go off far, far away from my little house to start a new, have an adventure all my own, scrap my knees and break my heart--the kinds of adventures most country songs twang about on the radio. I was going to be on my own for the first time.

But being on my own, so to speak--come on, it's college, a safety bubble all its own--being on my own, it's shed some light on those old feelings of wanting to run farther from the place I grew up.

Home. It's a place to recharge, to regain all the strength I need to keep going on this journey. No, I don't mean a good night's rest or a good home cooked meal, I've learned to master those in my own house. What I mean is, there's this energy within my family that fuels me and reminds me of the person I am, who I want to be, and how I can keep going. That cheering sound that resonates in my head every time I get up in the morning to keep going, keep dancing, keep working towards what I want. That helps so much when you're tired and ready to turn out the light on this dream even for a second.

I can always go home. My family has made that known to me from day one. What a wonderful notion to have, that any time I need it, I can jump in my car and head down to 235 where the excitement will burst once I cross the state line. That's usually when I call Mom to let her know I'm close and head for Chick-fil-a, I'll be there soon! My heart starts pumping as soon as I lay my eyes on the familiar sites of home. The closer, I get to my house, the more I can't wait to hop of out my car and throw the door open to my safe spot. Let the recharging begin! I know I can come here any time.

Even in the times where I know I made wrong choices, dug my heels in on things I knew better than to do, I could always go home. That's something, really. I've never realized how precious that is, how some people are not that lucky, to have a home waiting for me. To be there even after the arguments I've caused, the scares, the frustration and irritation I've put upon them while being miles apart, worried sick over what poor choice I might make next, I could always come home. And each and every time I did, I found a bit of myself again, the answers to those questions of "what should I do? Why does my heart ache over this?"

I guess it's a calling card stamped on your heart the moment you enter this world. My personal Jiminy Cricket has one heck of a loud mouth and plays my heart strings like piano. It's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just my roots coming back to say, "HEY! What did you Momma tell you?! Is your last name *insert whatever name here*?!" <--That was always a personal favorite of Mom's. You know what I'm talking about:

Me: "But Mom! Suzy Sunshine got to do that?"

Mom: "Is your name Suzy Sunshine?!"

And yes, that little voice can be extremely annoying on occasion, but when (if) I take the time to stop and listen to that tiny voice for even a moment, I can listen to my heart in whatever it's saying. Most of the time, I know that's Home's way of checking in, to make sure I've really learned from those previous incidents.

I guess I reflect on that now more than anything because it does seem rather ironic that I spent so much time of dreaming to move away, start a new life in some other state, city, doing whatever and I never really factored in how my heart would ache once I walked away from home. The longer I've been away, the harder it's actually gotten and chances are that if you've visited me in the last year, I've ended up a puddle once you've left. Sometimes I wait to see you car (or truck) turn the corner so you don't think I'm the crazy woman I really am. Sometimes all you have to do is hug me. I have learned to cope once a visitor leaves and that usually entails me wandering the aisles of Target with my tear-stained face.

But Grandma has always said tears are the safety valve of the heart--and I believe it and I'm not afraid to use it either, even in class (yeah, this semester was that bad). And I say all this because I'm in desperate need for a trip home. Desperate to be in the place where I can recharge for a bit before I jump back into the last haul of this process, the last leg of this race. I'll find all I'll need at the end of that three hour drive, waiting for me with arms spread wide open.

It's the warmth of my mother's arms around me as she pulls me in for the first hug I've had from her in months, the kind where it feels like she's going to squeeze the stuffings out of you. It's my Daddy smiling to say, "I'm really glad you're home, kiddo," and I know he means it by the way he bobs his curly head. It's Piper jumping up down like a crazed animal that she is and crying, she's so happy to see me and then proceeding to run donuts around our living room floor to show off. Good golly, I love that animal! Just thinking on this reunion could make me weep with such joy and anticipation.

Get ready, Fam! I'm coming home as fast as I can!

Sing-Song Sing Alongs

So I have this fabulous family. I mean it. They are crazy fun and super creative and I enjoy our facebook interactions so dang much!

Facebook interactions?! Well, more like facebook sing alongs! Yup, don't think they really existed before we invented them, but they do in fact exist. On more than one occasion someone will post a song lyric on their status and inevitably one or all of us will answer back with the next line or two. It's fantastic!

And when I say "family interactions" that really only includes two of my aunts and my mom, occasionally my sister when she isn't swamped with work. I mean, I can't really see the men joining too often--that might compromise their manly nature, plus I'm not too sure if they have facebook...that poses a problem it would seem...Anywho!

We've gone through just about every morning song you can think of. "Good Morning!" from Singing In the Rain and "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" from Oklahoma!. Even "Good Morning Starshine" from Hair.--If it's not obvious now, I love me some musical theater. But my all time favorite, "Good Morning to You," comes from our leading family choir director, my grandmother.

Grandma is a hoot and half--I love her dearly and she is always singing a song. To me it's pretty entertaining when she gets one stuck in her head and if she forgets the words. Well, she just hums 'til she gets back to the chorus again. I can't count the number of times we've all sung songs with her including SEVERAL rounds of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" outside on summer nights in Lubbock. I can remember being just a little girl running around her giant backyard, hopping on the swing set and having her sing me "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" as she pushed me back in forth. Since she's learned how to text, we sometimes send songs back and forth to each other.

Mom used to sing to me, too--mostly folk songs by Joan Biaz or John Denver and Jim Croce. There was this one song I just adored called "Lily of the West" that was about this man who was in love with this woman who ended up cheating on him and oh! There's a fight and the man gets sent to prison for killing the woman's lover! It's so dramatic and such a good story! I know, what kind of five year old would ask her mom to sing her this stuff, but it had a story to it! Only me--and I had no clue what pop music was until I like 11...such a bizarre child.

Rainy days? I always think of Winnie the Pooh's song. You know, "I'm just a little black rain cloud hovering over the honey tree. Everyone knows that rain cloud doesn't eat honey! No, not a nip!" There's a song for almost any day you're having--any form of expression for a person's mood. Today is an "Orange Colored Sky" for me--yes, I know it's blue, but I'm in that kind of a happy mood.

Have you ever noticed there really is a song for everything? Honestly, while people are speaking, sometimes I think of some song that fits with either the situation or what they just said. Try playing that as a game sometime, you'll be singing all kinda of songs all day. And that's the thing, every day there's a different song I'm humming around and I love how I can still share in that with my sing-along family even when we're miles apart. How cool is that?

So as you go about your day today, why don't you share your song with someone else--might just make their day, too.


"I don't sing because I'm happy; I'm happy because I sing." -William James

The End Is Coming

The end of my time as a graduate student, that is. I just met with my advisor and set up my last two semesters here. This summer I'll be taking two courses, one being my Thesis Preparation course and the other, Non-Profit Organizations (Thank goodness I've already had it before. I know what I'm getting in to.)Also set up my fall schedule, the absolute final semester of classes I will have to take.

Did you hear that? That was a choir of angels ringing out their praises for upcoming end of a year and a half marathon. HALLELUJAH!

Seems to me this semester has been the hardest I've ever had--the Suzy Sunshine in me is getting a little worn for the weather. I envision this cheerleader ragged with crazy fuzzy hair, smeared make-up, sagging pom-poms, and barely enough umph (Sounds like: oo-mm-ff)to spell out a cheer. My positivity is wearing thin and my sanity is hanging by a thread.

But I'm almost there. I can do this. Not too long ago on one fine day, my sister, Sarah, sent me a wonderful reminder after a pretty frustrating week. Reading this reminder helped me reach down and find that strength to shrug off those hostile feelings of chucking my computer across the room or running down the street screaming bloody murder. We've all felt that at one point in time or another.

Anyway, thought I'd share it with you. Maybe it will help inspire some hope for anyone who is working through a particularly hard semester:

Hi Baby Sister!

I found this in my email that I am cleaning out--wow--over 5,000 emails...who does that?! :P Anywho, I found this inspiring email from a girl who was feeling pretty proud of her accomplishments and looking to that light in the tunnel, and I thought you might like to read it.

Hang on to that feeling, Baby Sister--trust me, this time that feels like it's creeping by will seem like a blink and then there you are standing in the middle of your life! It's like the last part of the roller coaster just before you tumble over the last hill...Enjoy this time--it will give you a chance to be "Just Julie"... I love you!

~S



Date: Tue, 28 Oct 2008

Last night I was looking over my course check-off list while trying to set-up my schedule for next year. I read through each class required for my major and noticed each and every class I'd completed with its year and semester by it with the utmost amazed feeling.

I can remember the day I received this particular piece of paper--I sat in my advisor's office thinking "How the heck will I ever get this done in three years?!" Keep in mind my first year at OCU was spent as a theater student taking barley 14 hours a semester. Practically everything I took was counted as electives which meant I was going to cram four years (Nearly five if you didn't take massive amounts of classes) into three...thus began the first of many silent panic attacks.

If anyone knows me, they know how much I love to plan, make lists and how accomplished I feel checking each to-do off. If you really know me then you know I'm fabulous when it comes to making plans but how hard it is for me to get everything I plan finished--let's just say I plan to bite off way more than I can chew from time to time. Executing my to-do's can be a challenge within itself. Great planner, not always great about executing it all.

Looking at my course list last night I couldn't believe how much I'd finished--I'd survived every project class, written every paper and lived to tell the tale with little to no emotional scarring. I've hit major bumps in the road and tackled more over the top projects that I ever thought I could. Every horror story every upperclassman told became a reality proving their ability to tell tall tales...nothing was every as scary as it seemed before. I've successfully convinced myself I could live through two years of non-stop school finishing 18 hours spring of sophomore year into 9 hours of summer school, 21 hours in a fall semester followed by 3 over Christmas break and finishing with 19 hours in the spring. Have to tell you I didn't know if I'd make it through that year, but thanks to my stubborn nature I refused to give up.

So it's my last semester I'm planning for and you'd think I would want to quit now, be finished and burned out of everything to do with dance and school. No way--if anything this has fueled my fire to keep going and learn more. As I check off each last class I have to take, making the final preparations to finish this four year adventure I couldn't feel more pleased with myself and all I've done. I hope my fellow seniors are experiencing this same exhilarating feeling of satisfaction.

Puppy Sister

One week from today I will be reunited with the light in my life, that sweet precious creature, Piper. Oh goodness, I cannot wait to see that golden fuzz butt! I can see her now, wiggling violently in the back of Mom and Dad's car as they pull up in my drive.

Of course, I'm talking about none other than my puppy sister, not my actual sister. Sarah will probably be working hard, enforcing rules in a courtroom. Big Sister was always enforcing rules, especially when we were little and played board games together. I could never get a break even when I gave her The Look! She apparently is the only one immune to my quivering lower lip. Dang.

Anyway, Piper is coming and I cannot wait! If anyone knows me well enough, they know I harbor a deep love for my dog like no other. I will happily argue she is the cutest pup ever to grace this green earth. Case in point:



Told ya. I call her my puppy sister because, well. I just am. She loves to steal my "toys" or shoes rather and at night, she has her side of the bed and I have mine. Although sometimes she tends to get a little mixed as to which side is hers and which is mine:



And that's cute, too...until she gets excited and wedges her bony elbow into your side. Good morning! We read together, too. Oh yes.



Although be warned, when it's time to play with the puppy, she will most certainly let you know! This dog is as big a mess head as I am--you saw the pictures of the peanut butter jar, right? Beat you didn't know she liked her ice cream, too:



(Just so you know that was an empty carton that she was lucky enough to lick clean.) The girl loves her some food. One time I came home from school just to visit family and as I chatted with a friend in the kitchen Piper came trotting her happy tail over to us.

"Well, hey there, Piper! What the heck have you got in your mouth?"

Kid you not, the dog had a chocolate chip cookie in there! I reached down to pull it from her and she staggered backwards, turning her head slightly to the side as if to say, "You can't have this!"

"Piper, what have you got?" Again, she backs her happy butt back and gives me those innocent eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Smart dog, she's learned from the best when it comes to giving those innocent eyes. Think I taught her a little too well. Anyway, finally got that crumbly, stale cookie out of her mouth and asked Mom where on earth she would have gotten one (There sure as heck weren't cookies when I got in!). Apparently Piper had stolen that one from a batch Mom had made about a week prior. A WEEK! One solid week she had been hanging on to that cookie! That dog must have a stash of food somewhere in the house that we don't know about. That's pretty surprising since she's always on top things faster than a duck on a june bug. If it drops, better watch cause she will bowl you over trying to grab whatever you dropped.

She has her place by the sink when people are cooking. Leaning up against the bottom cabinets, she will plop down on the floor, throw her face straight up at you and stare while you chop away, mix, whatever. She just prays for gravity to grant her some delicious morsel from above. I'll give her this, she's pretty quick. I've heard several stories of her eating whole batches of cookies, breads, even got a hold of a ham last week. Also loves broccoli. Yup. That's my dog.

I make her out to sound like a little piglet, which she is--you should see her eat popcorn sometime--but she's capable of so many other things. She's a great runner. Beautiful. Unless you're the one watching her run out the back yard. Then it starts looking like a pretty ugly situation. All she's really doing is playing tag...or her version of it. Piper runs away, we chase her and she keeps running until we give up. Then she prances back home, happy as can be to once again be back with her people. She's a nut.

But she's my nut and I love her all the more because of that.