December is my thankful month:

Normally, posts like this one come mid-November. You know, “I’m thankful for…” because Thanksgiving is coming and that’s what you DO at Thanksgiving: you GIVE THANKS. (And eat. You eat too.)

However, my time clock for getting things done runs about 22.67 days after everyone else’s. So, technically this post is on time, for me.

Also, December is my thankful month. I have the reminder from Thanksgiving to be thankful, my birthday, Christmas, and New Years (which makes me think about everything that happened that year), all within 45 days. I have a LOT to be thankful for.

Of course, I’m thankful for bunches more than what has appeared below. But these are the ones that have stood out to me in the last 24 hours. (And the ones that I had pictures of.)

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The fog outside: I honestly cannot remember the last time we had fog in December. I bet the photographers are having a field day. (Like me! Although I’m lazy about my field days. This was taken from my porch, in my pajamas.)

This girl: my sis, one of my few best friends. (The heck with having one; that makes things complicated. I have two! J) She’s just generally awesome!

My dog: you know that song by Carrie Underwood? “…the more boys I meet, the more I love my dog…”?? It’s a lot like that.

My little niece, and her mom and dad…(the goofballs). Joelle thinks the ceiling fan is pretty cool.

The mountains: every time we go somewhere flat, I think of the mountains. I always feel unprotected and exposed without them.

My mom and dad: I have no idea how they do it, being parents to the terrors Lexy and I are. ;) They really deserve that trip to Mexico.

My piano: Since I have recently discovered that I actually begin experiencing withdrawals without playing it.

Oh, and Christmas. I’M VERY THANKFUL FOR CHRISTMAS. Especially when I think about the real reason we have the presents and the food (the FOOD!), and the lights and decorations, and the MUSIC! These things are all great, but they wouldn’t be anything without the baby in the manger. And that just makes me warm and fuzzy all over.

Have a happy Christmas season!

October

For Jana
(since she is awesome! check out her blog here!)

Once a year, October rolls around, along with pumpkins and Halloween candy. Leaves turn red and orange and they drop to the ground, blanketing it like the snow will in less than twelve weeks. The drink of choice switches from lemonade to hot cocoa, and large knit sweaters are dug out of closets for use.

The season changes.
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There’s a little white church down the road. Kids pile out of cars in the parking lot. Once they get inside, a young woman makes them line up on the stage. She speaks to them for a minute and then, on signal, the children begin to sing. They are not professional. They are uncertain, and rough, and pure in their voices. The woman stops them, the tone of her voice positive. She brushes a stray strand of silky brown hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck. The children work hard to please for she is likable. They sing again, their voices resonating out, a mosaic of music, slipping through the stained glass windows and out into the autumn air. 
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Giggles, splashes, and random bits of song drift through the fog. Chilly air, the faint scent of wood smoke, dead leaves, and chlorine, and the faintest of damp breezes make up the atmosphere. A peek through the fog would reveal a hot tub, steaming against the cold air, with three girls in it. All three have their hair piled on top of their heads in an attempt to keep their tresses out of the water. The trio sits, soaking in the water, singing Disney songs and drinking ice water. They are completely enjoying one another’s company. Another eruption of laughter bursts from them. One trips up in the song. Her curly-haired friend giggles but keeps singing, and the third girl splashes a bit of water, urging the first girl to join back in the song. The rambunctious singing fills the air again. 
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A pot bubbles on the stove, and you peer around the steam into the contents. A woman, with pre-salt-and-pepper hair, plunges a ladle into the concoction and pulls it out, pouring the contents into a bowl. She hands it to you.
Usually, the lady’s soups are enjoyed, ranted about, even. Occasionally, though, one comes along that even the dog won’t eat. You grin, though, and sip your soup, liking it this week.
Other girls go up and get bowls as well. Some eat theirs, others don’t. However, the French bread from the center of the table disappears, without fail, every week. Laughter and chatter fills the dining room; some weeks the volume is such that one must speak very VERY loudly to be heard above the noise of twelve teen girls fellowshipping. It’s a beautiful noise, sprinkled with the clink and clatter of spoons against bowls and crunchy bread. It’s soup night here, because it’s October.
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 The game is spread across the table. In the corner, an almost-gluttonous-sized bowl of chocolate chips is waiting. For our mouths. Glorious chocolate.
In the game, we technically are supposed to land on a certain square before we indulge in the sweet morsels, but I doubt that any of our trio will have the patience or the will-power for that.
So, we play, and eat chocolate, and laugh. 
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There is an extra mattress on the floor of my bedroom. You lay on it, and I’m in my own bed as well. It’s late, but on we talk, about anything and everything. As the minutes tick by, our voices slow, our responses are duller, and our eyelids grow heavier. I wonder how much longer we can keep ourselves awake, and close my eyes for a moment, relieving the stinging there.
When I open them again, you are fast asleep, covers pulled up against your cheek, eyes closed, curly blonde hair askew over the pillow, wisping around your face. Yes, you are quite asleep now, and as I turn off the lamp, I notice that snow has begun to fall outside. Ridiculous, you know, for October.
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Note: I’m not even sure if this last memory is from October. I think it’s from January (post-Christmas, since I gave my sis the TobyMac CD that year). But it is of Jana, and honestly, I kinda need a Jana fix right now. I seriously cannot listen to TobyMac’s Made For Me without thinking of this scene. So here’s to long-distance friendships, and chocolate on opposite sides of the world, and cold (Thanks, Montana – we hit zero degrees this week!).
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The goats and cats are waiting, and in the two inches of snow, it’s a big deal to drive up to our neighbors house to take care of the creatures.  You don’t mind though. We pull gear on – coats, boots, hats, and gloves - and pile into the car for Mom to drive us. You grab my sister’s new TobyMac CD on the way out, and I hijack the radio.
We all listen carefully, bobbing our heads to the music. The CD is still too new for the words to be memorized.
But you, you pull the paper cover out of the plastic casing and follow along with the words. At one point, you shout with glee – “Ah!” – and then go on to repeat the words of the song for us and explain what they mean, the reason behind the words.
To me, the logical translation of the lyrics doesn’t come through. The words are encoded, suddenly: as your shout for joy, as your gleeful reaction to your understanding of them. For me, they are an ever-standing encryption, ever-sung memory of my curly-haired friends delight at a TobyMac song.