My Blog has Moved

My blog has moved to Whimbly.com. 

Please go to the site for updated postings.  For questions, please email me at allison@whimbly.com.

Important! New Web Site!

In the interest of taking my blogging to the next level, I would like to announce that I have decided to start my own web site!

You read right. Hello world, my blog can now be found at whimbly.com. My new site includes the same blogs, comment options and information.  I will still post on my blogspot site for a few weeks along with updating my web site. 

Why Whimbly for a name, do you ask?  Well, I liked how the word Whimbly rolls off of my tongue and the word sounds, oh I don't know, whimsical and bubbly (hence the name Whimbly).

Say Whimbly ten times over.  That right there is why I picked the name.

I have also started a fan page on Facebook and you can follow me on Twitter.

I am so excited you all.  Did I say WHIMBLY.COM?

whimbly whimbly whimbly whimbly whimbly whimbly whimbly whimbly

Conversations with Lynn: On Getting Dressed

Sitting on the Edge of the Bed Wearing a Freshly Washed Pair of Jeans

Lynn: Can you put my socks on for me? I KNOW I'm not gonna be able to bend over in these jeans. 

He then sprawled out on the bed, held up his sock and lifted his foot.

Ice Cream and Headstones

This last Sunday was the first Mother's Day that we celebrated after losing dad.  He used to plan the day. We knew it would be a rough one so decided to do something different. 

We made quiche and parfaits for brunch for my mother.  Instead of going to Pokagon State Park, like we had planned, my mom wanted to go to the cemetery where her mother was buried and peruse the headstones.

It may seem sacrilegious for some, but we bought ice cream and we ate it while we walked among the headstones of those who have gone before us.  I only mention this because as I was thinking about my family's life over the last year and a half, it is like we have been walking in a graveyard full of death and are forced to act as if everything is normal - eating ice cream on the graves of those we have lost.

Sometimes we have no choice but to move forward and live life although everything around us seems so bleak.  Don't let the shadows of the past keep you from enjoying the sweet things that life has to offer.

Cell Phone, I Don't Want to Die

If you recall, my number one pet peeve is when someone throws trash out of a car window.  Right up there with it is when someone is texting/browsing the Internet and driving.  I don't want to die. 

So, the other day when I noticed my husband conspicuously pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, I kindly, but assertively reminded him that he loves me and doesn't want me to die in a tragic car accident because he got a Facebook notification.

In response he did this-

I could have thrown that iPhone out of the car window.   

The Lunatic Burglars

Do you remember when you first held your driver's license in your hand and you thought you could conquer the world?  I would volunteer to help my parent's out with anything that required that I drive into town.  I wanted to drive everywhere.   

I believe I was 16 or 17 years old when, one night, my sister and I were heading home from a youth group function.  It was after midnight and I was driving (of course).  About three miles from home and in the middle of nowhere, the car died.  It sputtered it's last breath and I was able to maneuver the car to the side of the road.

This was before the time of cell phones so we knew we had two options.

1. Walk home
2. Knock on a stranger's door and ask to use a phone.

Instead of braving the darkness and a long walk, we decided to look for the most child-friendly house and beg for help.  A short ways down the road we spotted a farmhouse with tricycles and playthings in the yard. We walked up the porch steps and knocked on the door.

It was silent.

I knocked again.

Nothing.

I knocked louder.

From the shadowy recesses of the kitchen we saw a woman, wearing only a long, ugly t-shirt, dive into the next room.  Her husband ran across the same way a few seconds later and he was clutching a baseball bat. 

I realized that they probably thought we were scary, murderous lunatics who were out to get them.  I tried to explain through the door that I was not there to murder them.

It didn't work.

The woman peered around the corner and she had a phone in her hand.  Seeing this, I mustered up every ounce of courage I had and after assuring Ashley that I knew what I was doing, I cried fake tears to prove I was serious.  I even added a crack in my voice. 

"We're teenagers and our car isn't wor-r-r-king.  Can we please use your phone?  We're teenagers.  Can you help us?  Ple-e-ease?" And I cried. I was good.

The woman slowly made her way to the door and realizing that we were in fact ignorant teenagers, put down the phone and let us in.

We made it home about a half hour later.  I am sure that it took that family awhile to fall back asleep.

Two things changed after that fateful night.

1. I was less eager to run errands for my parents
2. I never ran out of gas again.  Never.