Your Face Does All The Talking Before You Open Your Mouth

Have you ever thought about how expressive your face is? Have you noticed how, when speaking to someone, you can tell how your message is being received just by the look in the eyes, set of the mouth, perhaps moving of the head. We talk with our face, without ever opening our mouths. Our mouths can lie, but it's almost impossible to lie with your face.

I'll use my son Billy as an example of some different facial expressions to show how the face speaks before the mouth. In this pic, perhaps I had told Billy his bedroom smelled like a locker room. Notice the look in his eyes (skeptical) and the position of his mouth (never been in a male locker room have you? If you had, you'd know my room smells pretty good).




In this pic, you can see the eyebrows are also involved as well as the eyes and mouth. Here, I could have said "You must have raked the leaves in your dreams, because you certainly didn't rake any leaves in this yard." His expression is showing disappointment, mixed with disbelief, as if perhaps he's not sure if he dreamed the rake job or not. But he knows he's got a big rake job ahead of him.





Here we have high arched eyebrows, lots of white showing in the eyes, and slightly parted lips. Only thing I can think of is I asked him to do his imitation of "Wilson" the soccer ball face from the movie Castaway. Maybe every facial expression doesn't have a purpose......





Here we have scowling eyebrows, total displeasure in the eyes, nostrils flared, and the mouth starting to form the word "NO!!). Here I'm sure he's found out we are going to take him back to the beach for Spring Break.




Okay, so here we have a perfectly relaxed face, the eyes are showing contentment, and the mouth is smiling. He's obviously just received news that pleases him and he is in complete agreement with it. That could be anything from "You can do that chore tomorrow" to "You can have my car when you turn 16." (Neither of those things are actually true, they are just used for example's sake).



So, from these few examples you can see how expressive our faces can be. Too often I fear mine may show impatience, disinterest, or perhaps even anger. I want to purpose it in heart that my face shows compassion, kindness, and understanding when someone talks to me. Then, with God's help, I want those very attributes to come out of my mouth.

We Skipped Thanksgiving This Year - But Not On Purpose

Well, we just got back from Myrtle Beach, S.C. and it was quite a nice trip. The weather was beautiful on all but the last day. I must admit though, it did not feel like Thanksgiving to us. I guess that by going to where we normally vacation, we just couldn't get in the holiday mood. Well, that and we left half the family behind. Who, by the way, pulled off their own Thanksgiving Day and had a great time together.

We went to the Christmas Show at the Alabama Theatre on Wednesday night. It was a superb performance by a very multi-talented cast. Some of the numbers they did just wowed me, particularly an instrumental done in the dark with all these flashing lights that kept time with the music.

Some of the cast on stage together.




This very talented woman did alot of the lead singing for the women. She is probably the best singer I've ever heard live. I was going to have my pic taken with her and my camera died. :(




So we set out to do something different for Thanksgiving, and then it didn't feel like Thanksgiving at all. It's weird to go for years to the same spot during Spring or Summer, then show up there at Christmas time. It's like being in a time warp. All of a sudden instead of seeing this:



You see this....



Or instead of sitting on the beach reading while people around you boogie board in the ocean, walk, or play ball......




You are on that beach reading, all by yourself...literally...




I did not know that no one in Myrtle Beach cooks dinner on Thanksgiving Day. Every place we went was packed to the sidewalk with crowds of people waiting to be fed. We ended up eating here:




They did have turkey and stuffing, along with egg rolls, chow mein noodles, crab imperial, crab rangoon and prime rib. By the time we stumbled out of there into the dark, we didn't know what day, month, or holiday it was.

But nothing during the trip prepared me for what I would see on the way home. See, we now store our travel trailer in Myrtle Beach because our camper doesn't like to travel (I think it believes "Travel Trailer" is its' name). It just became too stressful trying to drag it, unwillingly, up and down Interstate 95. After every trip we had to take it to the RV Hospital for treatment, sometimes major surgery. Now we show up and it's already there waiting for us, and when we leave it behind, somehow the company that is storing it hitches it up and drags it back to their facility. When we left yesterday Bill glanced in his rearview mirror, and guess what was passing us in the left lane? Our Trailer!

The darn thing was rolling down the highway like a kid on roller skates.



When I looked over, I give you my word, the trailer was laughing at us.



It gave us a wink, and disappeared out of site. What a brat.....



So, it was good trip, albeit a quick one, but not a traditional Thanksgiving holiday. I'm glad we took the trip. However, I learned that I prefer a Thanksgiving with my family gathered around my own table. I just love the food and conversation, and the game of Taboo we always play. So.......


Until next Spring, this beautiful ocean view will have to wait. I'm home for the holidays!

Identity Crisis - Which Christmas Movie Mom Am I?

This is a repost from last year. I'm still shooting for Mrs. Krank.....
___________________

Over the years, as I watch my favorite Christmas movies, I've often wondered which Mom I most closely resemble in personality and actions. Is it Ralphies' mom from A Christmas Story? How about Mrs. Griswold from Christmas Vacation? Olivia Walton from A Homecoming? Sybil from The Family Stone? Or my personal favorite, Mrs. Krank from Christmas with the Kranks.

First, Ralphie's mom. She has a certain appeal to me. She's a full-time homemaker, wears an apron, and even cooks part of her dinner the night before. Her house is impeccably clean and she serves her family home-cooked meals. Definitely my idea of a good wife/mother. But we only have two things in common: Telling Randy he can put his arms down when he gets to school, and leaving the bully lying in a bloody heap after her son gave him a beatdown. Other than those two things, we are not really alike. Take the lamp incident: She just stood there while her husband put a leg lamp in their front parlor window. She didn't like it, in fact, she broke it one day, but not till then did she express her true feelings: "That is the ugliest lamp I've ever seen!" I would have expressed that when it came out of the crate, along with a "Heck no, it's not going in the living room." Besides my husband never throws a box away. All I would have to do is cart it downstairs next to his faulty furnance, and there it would stay forever. Okay, so I'm not Ralphie's mom.

Well, it's not red cabbage, but it is pumpkin soup, which is also really good, Ralphie.....




Mrs. Griswold. Now, I've never really cared for her. She has this NUT for a husband, and she never says a word. Prime example: There is a big, ugly christmas tree in the livingroom. It's huge and bent over about two feet on top, and all she says is "Do you think there's enough room for the angel on top?" Besides I can't be her if my husband isn't Clark, and he definitely isn't him. Clark plastered the entire house with lights and then spent 24 hours checking them, and never realized a switch needed to be flipped in the garage. I'm glad I'm married to a smart man. Plus, truthfully, I would have told him it was the switch in the garage and not let him think his little temper tantrum miraculously caused the house to light up. Plus, our Christmas would have been over the minute my husband came through the ceiling onto the bunkbed. So, I can't be Mrs. Griswold, because I'm not married to Clark.

Hmmm, is there room for the Angel on top or not?



Ahhh, Olivia Walton.....what a woman. Strong, independent, realistic. Raising seven children during the depression, lived with her in-laws, the mother whom, I don't think really liked her. She held down the home front all week while her husband worked 30 miles away to earn money because there were no jobs to be found in town. Christmas was going to be her applesauce cake, and mittens and scarves she knitted for each of them, it was all Santa Claus was going to be this year. No apologies. I would feel so guilty and would probably have taken the credit that Ike offered and bought everyone a toy. Not Olivia, she said "Do not put temptation before me. You know John and I never bought anything on credit." But as John Boy pointed out, she did accept charity and took that turkey from Charlie Sneed. But all women know it's not charity to take food to feed hungry kids. But I would have to part company with Olivia when John came home, paycheck just about spent, and announced he'd quit his job (In the middle of the depression!)and with love shining in her eyes, she said "But John, what are we gonna live on this coming week, and he said "Love Woman, love....."

Oh yeah, I'd definitely cook Charlie Sneed's turkey!



Sybil Stone. She's a more modern mom. Always has a cluttered house, big mug of coffee, and a huge streak of gray running through her hair. She has a gay son, and isn't intimidated by her kid's sex lives. She never made life easy for them, because she knew life was hard. But she fiercely loved them and knew them better than they knew themselves. Each one of her kids were different, and she mothered them differently. I admire that. She wasn't afraid to voice her opinion to her husband, but she did go to him with her fear. I liked how her family cared what she thought, and wanted her approval. Somewhere along the way, she had earned their respect. But, I thought the husband was weak, and I would have walked all over him. So, while I would like to be Sybil, I don't want to be married to Mr. Stone. Can't have it all, I guess.

Even Sybil would have trouble parenting these two.....



Mrs. Krank.....my ideal. Seriously, she gets on my nerves, but I loved her life. Empty nest, creative, volunteers all over town, friends, good marriage, strong husband who takes risks. Let's skip Christmas and take a cruise!!! Let's go tan!! I'll meet you at O'Leary's for lunch! He would always look out for her, but didn't coddle her. She was in control of her domain, he was in control of his. The thing with the daughter was a little weird, but everything else was perfect. Now I'm not going to fight someone for a Hickory Honey Ham, but she could get her husband to borrow his neighbor's Christmas tree, just so a tree would be there when she got home. I liked how when she had that "look" in her eye, he knew there was no fighting her. So, she's who I'd like to be, but I haven't achieved her yet.

But I do have something she doesn't have yet! A beautiful grandchild!



Let's face it, I haven't been portrayed in a Christmas movie yet. Ebeneezer Scrooge never took a wife

Happy Thanksgiving - I'm Leaving, but Not on a Jet Plane...

I'm taking a break from the discouraging news of the world.....for just a month. Talk radio has been turned off in favor of 97.1 WASH FM. They are now playing 24/7 Christmas music until midnight December 25th. Until then, I don't care about the weak dollar, the high speculations of gold, commodities, inflation, deflation, or the fact that the Chairman of the Federal Reserve was a waiter at South of the Border. Until daybreak, December 26, 2010, I just want to focus on family, friends, gift-giving, gift-buying, good food, and hoping my jeans still fit when I make my New Year's Resolutions to lose some weight.

But first, it's Thanksgiving. The holiday that was created to remember the early settlers of our fine country, who lived long enough to make it to the first Thanksgiving. I'm very thankful that they survived and our country, because of them, was able to become one of the richest in the world before its' imminent societal collapse...whoops, I'm not suppose to bring that up.....

Instead I'd like to say that climbing the hill, then the mountain, gave me the idea to do something "different" for Thanksgiving. This year I'm not: cleaning, shopping, cooking, or playing hostess to my family. I love them dearly, but this Thanksgiving I'm running away.

Of course my darling Bill, and son Billy (under protest) are going with me. Bill and I have always stood behind the "No Minors Left Behind Law" we created years ago, so Billy must come with us. Someday he'll appreciate this view.




I will figure out how to survive in a post apocalypse world after the holidays. For now I'm going to sit on the beach and read a good book. I'm letting someone else prepare Thanksgiving dinner, and clean up after I'm done eating. My only worry will be how many chapters I can finish reading before the sun sets in the west.





Happy Thanksgiving from my family to yours!!!

No Longer A Part Two.....

I was going to post a Part Two on the last post. My plan was to post a Part One on the significance of the House, and then Part Two, on the signifiance of The Home. But honestly, it was keeping me from writing on this blog.

Most everyone has a family and knows how important they are, or, if they don't know that, then they should. If someone doesn't have a family, then I would like them to know that there are other people out there who don't have one either, and families can come in all shapes and sizes. They don't have to be connected by blood.

It is possible to pick your family. There are so many people out there that God has adopted into His Family and you can be one too. Just trust Christ as your Savior, repent of your sins, and ask Christ to be Lord of your life.

Christ will meet all your needs. Whether you are lonely, depressed, grief-stricken, or angry, no need is too big for Him. The joy that can be found in Christ is beyond compare.

In Christ, we are all family, and home is waiting for us one day, for all of eternity. I can not wait for that day, and that reunion.

I guess I wrote Part Two anyway. :)

A House - A Shelter from the World - Part One

I was thinking the other day about my house. On December 3rd we will have lived here for 13 years. A long time for some people, a short time for others. Some families live in homes where several generations have grown up in them. They under go renovations and updating. Sometimes rooms are added on, sometimes whole wings are added as the house grows to suit their needs. We did none of those things. Except for the bushes and trees aging and maturing, my house looks much the same as it did when we moved here.

The house in the Spring of 1998.




Over the years as the house aged, just like anything else, the age began to show. It needed a new coat of paint, new shingles, repainted shutters, and other normal maintenance. Then like magic, the house once again stood proud, as if refreshed after a day at the spa.


The House in the Autumn of 2010.




Thirteen years is a long time for my family to live in one house. Even as a child, my family moved frequently, a year here, two years there, one time five years in the same place. I repeated the pattern with my own family, we never lived longer than 5 years in one house until we moved where we currently live.

What I began to think about recently is how well I know this house. Which stair risers creak, the sound of water rushing through the pipes, the little noises and groans the house makes as it settles down for the night. Even the appliances running make comforting and familiar sounds, like the running of the dishwasher in the evening, or the washer and dryer during the morning. These sounds mean life is going on as normal. When the winds of autumn blow around the eves, or the snow piles up outside in the winter, I've heard and seen those things before, and it's a blessing to be in the same place, and see those same familiar sites, season after season.

View of the house from the backyard.




This house has given shelter to the family who lives here. It has protected us from the hot sun, and cold snows. It has been a comfortable place to come to when the day is hard and long. It has been a safe place to sleep so we could face another day. Holidays are familiar with the house cheerfully decorated, as if attending a grand party. As the family gathers around the holiday table to share a meal, the house makes us feels warm, cozy, and safe.




One day, we most likely won't live in this house anymore. Our memories will be relived, both through stories and photographs of the time we spent here. Another family will someday buy this house. They will fill it up with their own memories and experiences and it will become their place of refuge from the world.

A Fallen Hero

Today was the funeral for Lance Corporal Terry J. Honeycutt. He was a 19 year old Marine, and he died in service to his country on October 27, 2010. He left for the Marines as soon as he graduated high school in 2009, and spent only 3 short months in Afghanistan before an IED caused fatal injuries that ended his life.

I didn't know this young man, but I feel sadness everytime a life is ended in service to this country. Sadness because it is a young life cut short, but also greatfulness for the sacrifice that has been given, many times over, for centuries, to keep the United States of America free from enemies that want to cause us harm.

On this chilly, foggy, November morning, many people lined the side of Route 301 waving American flags, both to honor this fallen hero, and in protest to a group that calls themselves a church. The Westboro Baptist Church, a group out of Topeka, Kansas, travels across the country spewing forth hate in the name of God. They come as close as they are allowed to military funerals, and hold up signs thanking God for the dead soldiers.

I was proud today of the town where I live. For today, we banded together, two rows deep, and over a mile long, to let this cult know that they were not welcome here. Their message was not heard at Terry Honeycutt's funeral, and his family did not, on the hardest day of their lives, see this groups' message of hate.

What did happen was, as his family followed the hearse carrying his coffin passed by the people lining the highway, a solemn hush fell over the crowd. Noisy Route
301, with its 4 lanes of traffic and all those people, fell silent. Terry Honeycutt's mother, crying, waved out to the crowd and said thank you as she passed by. Then the crowd began to sing America the Beautiful, and our National Anthem. In difficult times, we are truly "One Nation, Under God."





Many of the people lining Route 301 had on these shirts.




People of all ages lined the highway, paying respect to a Fallen Hero.





So many people stopped their lives on this day to pay their respect to this young Marine, and to let a hate group know that their message will not be heard.




The emblem on his vest says it all "A Nation That Forgets Its Defenders, Will Itself, Be Forgotten."




Rest in Peace LCPL Terry J. Honeycutt. May God comfort your family and friends. May America never forget the sacrifice that you and so many others have given for our freedom and liberty.