Finding a book good enough to go into my most favorite of all time folder seems to get more and more rare the older I get, but this book made the cut. I absolutely loved it. I wish I still had a bookclub so I could discuss it with girlfriends. It was so emotionally powerful.
Will Tweedy is just a teenage kid living in Cold Sassy in the 1920's. Yes, he's fictional, but he is real to me, and will be to anyone else who reads this book. Written by Olive Ann Burns it's more than amazing how she pulled off writing from the perspective of a Southern teenage boy. She nailed it. Not that I'm a teenage boy to know, but I feel like I could be now because Will shared so eloquently and honestly his feelings about everything.
And everything was the content of this book. From teenage fantasies, to soul-searching theology, suicide, farming, all the way out to a housewife's cleaning regiment, and funny funny practical jokes and stories, Cold Sassy Tree touched on so many entertaining and thought-provoking subjects.
The author explored the hypocrisy of Christianity and brought to the light what it means to have a personal relationship with Christ. Will Tweedy's grandfather, Rucker Blakeslee, although non-religious and somewhat sacrilegious, was a man with sound character and a love for others and he became a real hero to me in my reading of this book. Funny that the books basis is the fact that Rucker married a Yankee hussy three weeks after the death of his widow: what an unlikely hero. But, a hero he is. And Will Tweedy told his story just right, especially by using all that southern tuh-wang in the writing.
Go back to this post for a reading of the book if you don't mind a spoiler.
My friend Amanda is an amazing person. I mean an AMAZING person. I feel so privileged that not only did our paths cross while I lived in Tennessee, but that we became good friends. She, like many other Tennesseans, is exceptionally spiritual and extraordinarily kind.
Back in the beginning of 2012 (yes this post has been sitting in my inbox for that long) Amanda won a contest put on by a local radio station.
"What would she do with 500 chicken
sandwiches from Chick-Fil-A?"
Her winning answer will tell you much more about the kind of person Amanda is than I ever could.
"Distribute them to the homeless in Knoxville."
It was no surprise that her answer won from all the entries. Chick-fil-A is well known as a Christian establishment and I am sure whoever chose the winner of the contest, chose correctly in Amanda. The homeless population is extremely high in K-town.
Here is a photo from back in February, of Amanda's three kids handing out sandwiches.
Amanda explained to me that she had romanticized the whole thing thinking she could pray with each individual and tell them that people cared about them.
Instead her mini-van was mobbed until every last scrap was gone (including her kids lunchbox leftovers) in only a minute and that they were then asked to leave by The Salvation Army who informed them that they were breaking some kind of law.
Amanda and I exchanged an e-mail the other day. I wanted to make sure she was still o.k. with me writing about her experience after all the backlash Chick-Fil-A had received lately. Here is her response,
"Thanks for reminding me of promises, I'd made 6 months ago. It's so easy to let our personal busy take over and not do good on the follow-through. I don't mind a bit if you blog about it and I'm not worried about any backlash. God's got this and He will get all the glory. What we did with Chick-Fil-A was not a publicity or political statement it was a chance to love on people in a very real, practical way."
I just LOVE that Amanda. I love how much she cares for others. I love how much she gives her life to others. I love that she is always actively looking for ways to help others and that she goes around constantly making promises to God, even if it will be hard to keep them. I love it that her "fail" is mightier than anyone else's "success."
Real quick I wanted to share a funny story that Amanda told me:
This weekend I was privileged to spend 3 days with our Middle School Ministry at our church. We had this incredible speaker, Acton Bowen. Acton is a past youth minister, speaker, and Christian correspondant for Fox News. He was talking about meeting with one of his friends who was a member of the Black Ops team in the US Armed forces and telling of his many missions. Acton said that they met at Chick-Fil-a which is "where Jesus eats".
You all can hate on a place because of their stance on gay marriage, that is your prerogative, but please realize that this restaurant is a lot like Amanda. They are always doing a whole lot of good. Oh, and their food is also like Amanda too:
A - MAZ - ING!
Here are a few other good recent news stories about Chick-Fil-A.
Here is a recent car-line in Waynesboro, VA taken by my cousin Jarrett. Chick-fil-A had committed a good portion of their profits to the family of Ethan Blevins, who had recently passed from leukemia complication.
How about the time they opened their doors with free meals to police officers after the Colorado movie theater shootings?
As for me? I love my gay friends. I truly do.
But I want to eat where Jesus eats
and I hope they can be o.k. with it.
For some chick-fil-a funny,
check out this old post.
So, on Saturday night at 10 pm, LG and I were walking out of the temple.
Yes, this temple. How amazing is that?
From our view up on the hill, there were fireworks going off all over the valley. It was absolutely breathtaking.
LG informed me that The Stadium of Fire would be happening any moment. For some reason, in my mind, I thought that it was going to happen on the actual 4th.
I decided we should hurry home and find a spot to watch the fireworks.
To my dismay, when we got home, the kids had no interest whatsoever in breaking away from the TV.
I pried their bodies and eyes from the tube, and made them pile in the car. I was not about to miss the fireworks, especially after this post.
As we drove down State street (Utah Valley's version of Knoxville's Kingston Pike) I was overwhelmed by so many US flags lit up along the road. The patriotism of Utahns is not only efficacious but admirable. People either love America here or they display their stars and stripes to compete with all the other businesses. And by all, I mean ALL. Everyone has a flag. Everyone.
The kids were grumbling during the whole drive.
Why do we have to do this?
We don't want to watch the fireworks.
Let's just go back home.
wah wah wah.
I told them to keep their eyes on the flags and to sing along.
I started loud and strong:
This land is your land, this land is my land....nothing but my voice.
Oh beautiful, for spacious skies....again, nothing from the back seats.
She's a grand old flag, she's a high flying flag...."Shut up, mom."
God bless America...."Really, Alice, do you have to sing so loud?" said quietly by LG so the kids wouldn't hear; I'm assuming he didn't want to totally stomp on my love for country.
I'm proud to be an American....(even louder than before)
By this time the kids were all horrified and hating their mother and her motherland.
And guess what? By the time we got to Provo's end of State from our northern end of Orem's State, all we could see was traffic. The traffic was heading towards us, not with us.
Yes, I hate to tell you, Murphy's Law is still in full effect, and has no respect for a nation's holiday celebrated two days early or a very loud and song singing patriotic mother. We had missed the fireworks.
More grumbling, complaining, and whining ensued.
LG and I were not about to miss a good opportunity for teaching our kids.
Me: "Knock it off you guys, at least we still live in a country that has firework celebrations."
LG: "There are a lot of kids in this world that would die to be in this car right now."
Me: "Or to even have a car."
LG: "Or to have a mother."
Abigail: "Not if their mom sang like that."
Me: "Especially if their mom sang like that."
LG: "Yeah, think of all the kids out there that don't live a country where they have mothers." (O.k. I just made that up.) I think he really said, "You should be grateful for a mother who can sing, and cook, and do laundry."
Abigail: "At least parents in other countries would be smart enough NOT to drive their family into the middle of the traffic jam, especially when their family missed the show."
Me: "Well, at least there are other Americans with cars."
LG: "And at least your mom can see in the dark and drive."
Bella: "Mom, STOP!" (I admit it I barely missed that car in front of me.)
Anyhow, the conversation went on for a bit. And there was no chance of it stopping.
[In fact, it can still be happening if you want to comment what your best line would have been to the kids.]
Quietly, ever so quietly and with her Gold sense of perfect timing, Sophia chimes in. She must have looked up from reading Harry Potter for long enough to gather her sisters' desperation for winning at the "Be glad you are American" game.
What does she say?
Brace yourself.
"Man, I wished I lived in Canada."
Seven words. That's all it takes to make a total complete disaster of an evening all worth it.
Good one Phia. Good one.
Average Americans should really consider more than 2.5 kids; they make everything more fun.
I told the kids that if they would sing their favorite patriotic song at the top of their lungs, then I would indeed STOP.
Abigail was loud and proud. I wonder where she gets that from?
"I'm a yankee doodle dandy. A yankee doodle, do or die."
I am sure that all that traffic surrounding us was so grateful that they didn't miss the real entertainment of the evening as I rolled all windows down.
And If I do say so myself those frostys from Wendy's were the perfect consolation prize for everyone involved. Nothing like good old American food.
And when the song Firework came on the radio. I promise you, not just momma was singing. Even dad got in on the falsetto. Perfection, pure perfection.
We didn't miss a thing. The fireworks had been going off in our car all night long.
And guess what? Utah loosened their firework laws this year. We can now shoot off 150 foot rockets from our very own neighborhoods. And on the real 4th of July, the sky was lit up in every direction we could turn. Our culdesac of fire was a billion times better than their Stadium of Fire. Fireworks in the sky on all four sides, coming from everywhere.
Please excuse the post full of pictures of my beautiful family. It may not be that funny. But it will sure be some eye candy.
We've been married almost 14 years.
We've had 4 kids.
We've only had our photos taken at JC Pennies.
Do you spell JC Penny plural
JC Pennies or JC Penny's?
Anyhow.
You get the point.
This is a confession that tells you two things about our family.
1 - We've been poor.
2- We didn't value a good photographer near enough.
Our friend Jessie was a Saint.
She was in the middle of moving
and we were leaving the State of Tennessee
the very next day.
I had to have some pictures with
my precious dogwoods.
She not only obliged.
But, rocked the house.
Thank you Jessie.
I will love you forever.
Jessie is about to have her first baby any day, so she will probably take a little time off. Or she will be shoving her camera in the face of her best subject ever. She also happens to be a perfectionist. As evidenced by the photos. She doesn't have a site yet, but if you want to be put in touch with her, just let me know. She will be in the Knoxville area for a little while longer.
I literally cried my eyes out while looking at these photos tonight.
It's a beautiful place, much like all of East Tennessee.
Lucky for us we got to enjoy it on a perfect Spring day.
It was raining.
Did I mention it was a perfect way to say goodbye.
This is where I wanted the photo, but Jessie being the professional that she is said that we couldn't set it up right. But, thank you Jessie for sending me this one shot of THE spot. It's just beautiful. And so fitting of TN. From my favorite trees, to the old rock structure, all the way to the rusted old metal.
Our Sweet Caroline.
Her nicknames are Curls, Boots, and Shirley Temple.
She looks just like her daddy.
Even their smiles are identical.
Our not so sweet Caroline.
Beautiful Bella.
Sweet Sophia.
Adorable Abigail.
The whole family.
The whole family with the dogwoods.
The only picture LG and I have of us kissing since we got married.
You would never know that we were in a fight that day.
Thank you to Jessie for solving all of our 8 years of marital issues that played out during our time in Tennessee in one final moment.
It's hard to be mad at someone when the photographer requests a kiss.
My favorite picture of all time.
Does it not just scream Tennessee?
I was asked to write a poem about mothers. I am not sure what is going to be done with the poem. It's not my greatest work. It's for my church back in Tennessee. I didn't have a lot of time, and I really have to be in the mood for poetry. I hope that somehow my main feeling is communicated: I have been mothered by many many women. Some are really my moms and some were friends and some were total strangers.
I will never forget the day that I left the local library bawling. That morning I had just received some shocking and awful news. I decided to take the kids to the library to get my mind off of things. Of course, my two children had other ideas. My baby was a monster that day. They say that our small children respond to our emotions, and I think she was responding perfectly. A man came across the library and pretty much told me I was an awful mother. It was the straw that broke the momma's back. I gathered the monster, her sister, and tried my best to keep it together until I got outside. I broke halfway to the door.
Another mother had seen the whole thing go down. She ran out to greet me at my car. I had locked the kids in their seats and sat at my steering wheel bawling uncontrollably. I couldn't even muster the strength to drive back home and even if I could, I couldn't see well enough to drive. She had the audacity to knock on my window. I sheepishly rolled my window down, and explained that I was having an awful day. She asked me if she could pray for me, and I said, "Oh, that is so sweet, please do." As a Mormon, I thought that meant she would go back to her car, bow her head and say a silent prayer, but as a relatively new Southerner, I had a lesson comin' to me. She stood in place and started pleading with the Lord on my behalf. I don't remember most of what she said except for one line, "Jesus, this woman is obviously having a really hard time, and she has children to take care of, please comfort her so she can do whatever it is that she needs to."
Do you know that it is six years later and I am still dealing with this major trial in my life. And often, very often I hear the words to that prayer and feel at peace. I wish I could somehow tell that mother, wherever she is, that she has been an angel in my life. But really, aren't all mothers angels? I think God gets so much of his work done through women with mother hearts. How grateful I am to be one who can succor and to also be one who is succored.
I would like to tell my mother in law that it was all just one big April's Fools joke that we are taking her four granddaughter 2,000 miles away to live, but she would know that I was lying because she was there while we loaded every last possession of theirs onto our truck.
I would like to think that it was LG's April's Fools joke on me when after we loaded his car onto the truck trailer and saw the flat tire he had just let the air out instead of admitting that he never went to get his tires rotated after I had asked him too.
I would like to think that it was a big April's Fools joke on myself when I realized that we could have e-mailed ourselves all of our maps to hotels and such instead of printing them out and losing the papers requiring a last minute trip to the library.
I would like to think that it was God's April's Fools joke on us when we had to load and reload our car onto the trailer four times because we couldn't drive the car onto the trailer straight. There was also no way that LG and I in our limited truck driving experience could figure how to accurately back the thing up.
I would like to think that it was the Kitty Bear's April's Fools joke on us when she clawed at my skin and bit into my flesh repeatedly while trying to administer her tranquilizer, but it wasn't a joke. Not at all.
I would like to think that it was Abigail's April's Fools joke on me that when I finally got out of town at 2 p.m. instead of the goal time of 8 a.m. and was 45 minutes onto the interstate that the dog wasn't in the car. She had let him out of the car at the quick stop at the grocery store unbeknown to me. And it was Faye's April's Fools joke to ask me about how Olive was doing, just to rub it in that I would have gotten all the way to our first hotel or gas stop before I realized the major mishap.
I would like to think it was the vet's April's Fool's joke when this crazy lady was having a nervous breakdown in the office over her Pomeranian named Itsy Bitsy. I guess this joke was a good one because it made my previous crying in the car look very very mild. And it also made me want to start packing some Valium in my purse for such occasions. The lady need someone to slap her silly. Her dog was just fine. My dog on the other hand had probably been hit by a car finding her way back to our house across four lanes of traffic.
I would like to think it was our neighbor's April's Fools joke when the called to tell me they had thought we left our dog behind on purpose because they had found her howling on our front porch, but it was such a relief to know they had found her.
I would like to think it was my hood Knoxville neighborhood's April's Fools joke that random people were pillaging everything they could take from our yard within an hour after we left town. Probably while I was just down the street at the vet because it was now 4 p.m. and I was really finally on my way.
I would like to think that it was the State of Tennessee's one last April's Fools joke on us when I got to about the same exact spot I had gotten to on the first trip only to be stuck in standstill traffic for three hours. LG was stuck at the front of the line and in all the drama I had gone back to town to take care of, he only ended up arriving at the hotel an hour ahead of us because he had sat in stand still traffic for 5 hours.
I would like to think that it was my own April's Fools joke on myself that after our whole first day of traveling, we only made it four hours into our 36 hour trip.
But even though it was April's Fools day, all of this was true, and although hilarious in hindsight, not so laugh worthy at the time.
The silver lining was on my trip to the vet with the dog, I got a better tranquilizer for the cat. It was a liquid form that actually worked until about 1/2 hour before arrival at our hotel in Kentucky when she started going crazy once again in her cat carrier.
By far my most entertaining April's Fools Day e v e r. And I can only say that because our dog was just fine. Just two little spots on the back of her legs that warrant some neosporin and an antibiotic.
And the dog may as well be on an antibiotic because the baby is too, for a pretty massive UTI, which kept her real nice and happy sitting in her carseat sick all day.
The miracle of it all. I have not yet been locked away. I was actually laughing at how absurd our family can be throughout the day.
And I believe God was laughing too as he thought of all the hard times I have had for the last 8 years in Tennessee and this was such a fitting closure.
Smooth sailing from here on out, I am sure of it.
Why?
Because April's Fools was yesterday and we barely managed to cross the state-line.
I take comfort knowing that some of the finer things of Knoxville will still be here whenever we come back. I captured some of my favorites during our last days here.
Ain't God good?
Art deco homes.
Beverly Hillbillies playing at the car wash.
Hot doughnuts free for good grades.
Historical sites. It's especially cool when your kid goes there for Middle School.
I gotta admit. I am not gonna miss this one. Orange has never looked too good on me. Does it really look good on anyone?
Here are some of my Tennessee habits that are going to be hard to break.
1. Measuring distance in minutes.
2. Checking the weather constantly because rain is always pending and if there is any chance of ice, everyone stays home.
3. Switching from “heat” to “A/C” in the same day.
4. Using the word “fix” as a verb. Example: “I’m fixing to go to the store."
5. Going to Wal-mart as a favorite past time known as”goin’ Wal-martin” or off to “Wally World”.
6. Calling a carbonated soft drink (not a soda, cola or pop) but a Coke, regardless of brand or flavor. Example: “What kinda coke you want?”
7. Saying all y'all.
When we stop in St. Louis for dinner tonight I am going to try my hardest not to cry when nobody at the restaurant calls me honey.
Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns
