Vacation Views, the Cell Phone Version

I hope this post doesn't make me the blogging equivalent of your Great Aunt Gertrude with her endless home movies.  

How to have a fantastic vacation - an illustrated list

Don't miss the chance to do something out of the ordinary, like taking a boat tour.  

While you are there talk to the captain, the tour guide, the docent...  Ask lots of questions.

 Snuggle your children, no matter how old they are, every chance you get.  Sometimes 

they are more willing to cuddle when they're far away from home.  Don't miss the chance. 

 Pack a picnic.  Food always tastes better outdoors. 

 Snap pictures of everything that captures your eye. 

 Pack lots of reading material. 

Don't forget to bring a family read aloud.

 Notice the little things, the small views. 

If you look closely, you can find beauty in anything.  

 Take the picture.  Then, be sure to stand still in 

awe of God's wondrous creation. 

 Take more than just the expected vacation photos.  

Don't miss the picture of your tween walking barefoot and enjoying the cool grass. 

Tell me about your favorite vacation photo, won't you?

More Vacation Views

You didn't think that first post was all did you?

Vacation Views

We enjoyed a wonderful road trip this summer. Here's a peek. 



This was a homestead museum and a tourist trap. 

We didn't pay the $12 entrance fee since I got all I really wanted - a great picture.



 

There was an old fashioned general store right beside the prairie dog town. 
They sold prairie dog food, among other things. 
Know what prairie dog food is?  Peanuts.  Yup.

We went climbing in the Badlands.  Sloane got much highter than I did. 
In fact, she got so high at one point that her Dad had to climb up and rescue her.
I wish I had been there for sunset.  I bet the light turns the sandstone into rainbows.

 You really can't travel through South Dakota and miss Mt. Rushmore. 

After we were finished Jeffrey asked Sloane what she thought. 
Her answer?  "Well, that was really random."  That's one word for it.
Have you ever noticed how Lincoln looks more like a young Elvis than Lincoln? 

 I agree with Sloane, Mt. Rushmore's no thrill. 

These guys were actually my favorite part of the visit. 

 I love that look on Sloane's face. 

She's at the age between little girl and young woman just now. 
I love that in this one, the little girl shines through.  
It's like she just knows a wish on that huge dandilion is bound to come true. 

What about you, friends?  What did you do with your summer? 

home

Mostly I find home when I forget all about catalogs and design and what we do or do not own.  Or more accurately, home finds me in those moments when all that matters in the world is a good sentence in a favorite book or when my arms and legs are sore from digging in the garden or shoveling snow.  I can arrange and rearrange the furniture--which I have done and will always do--but I know that no matter where the sofa goes, home is in the living.  - Gigi @ Magpie's Fancy


I loved those words penned by one of my best blogging pals, Gigi.  It made me think of my own definitions home.  My Dad was in the Army, and until I was 12, we moved about every two years.  We lived in Indonesia and Williamsburg and many points in between.  So, as a child, home was wherever the four of us landed.  Once the furniture came through the door, I knew I was home. 

As I entered my teens we settled in North Georgia, just outside Chattanooga, Tennessee.  In those formative years, I truly became a southern girl.  Adopted, maybe, but still, the South is my heart's home.  I married a good ol' Southern boy and happily traded my New York City dreams for those of a more rural variety. 

Early in our marriage we spent several very happy years in the (rural) Pacific Northwest.  I could go on and on and on about how much I love Oregon and miss the Northwest.  I could tell you about how great it is to get back for a visit every other summer, and how I always have a foot long list of places and people I must revisit.  But, my heart still longs for the South. 

Now we live in the Midwest.  Missouri has brought many gifts into our lives, including two wonderful teaching careers and the chance to live near my parents.  And still, our hearts long for the Tennessee River, Lookout Mountain, a slightly slower pace of life, and the chance to say, "Ya'll" regularly. 

I think the South will always be my heart's home. But, my real home?  Funny how some things never change.  Home is still where my family is.  As long as Jeffrey and Sloane are there, any place at all can be home.  Any place at all.
   

This eight year old picture is still one of my favorites of Jeffrey and Sloane.  How blessed I am that they still enjoy each other that much.

On Thanksgiving

The meal is finished.  The games are played.  The kitchen is clean, and leftovers put away.  As we do each year, it's time to have everyone who is here help with my Thanksgiving post.  Happy Thanksgiving from our house to yours.  Team Lawson joins me in wishing you all the best.  We pray you will always have a grateful heart.  We pray you will find joy in the small things and fortitude in the difficult ones.  We pray the year ahead will bring you more joy than sorrow.  We pray that you will always have plenty of food on the table and friends to share it with.  We pray you will know how very much you are loved.  I am thankful for you. each one of my precious, bloggy friends.  

a list of gratitude
* a houseful of friends on Thanksgiving day * Sloane * art * plenty of food * games and laughter with friends * that the Patriots are totally schooling the Jets right now * my new Chi straightening iron * a whole new Freshman class that's fallen in love with the Enderverse * our sweet, sweet dogs and how gentle they were tonight with Grandma * swinging * cousins * Daddy's that paint their daughter's nails * Greg survived his first Black Friday * Picmonkey * 2 paid for cars * candles * the odd music on Michael Bain's podcasts * the way you can find anything on youtube * chalkboard signs * balloons * Everlost and Everwild * public libraries * Atlas Shrugged * books * Pinterest * my pretty home * vintage cameras that look like mini-sculptures * guns * candy * that lemon pie tonight * blogging * listening to audiobooks * collections of quotes * Adel's voice * makeup and hair design sketch portfolios * winning blog give-aways * America * fresh flowers * photoshoots * the chance to teach little kids at church * Etsy * my new purple purse * our dogs are getting calmer * our new coffee table * book clubs * big earrings * selling my first photo * Yo Yo Ma Plays Ennio Morricone * Toby Mac * Jaime Grace * the Newsboys * family game nights * a handwritten letter in the mail * all the pretties that I set my table with * yummy turkey * trees * Christmas is coming * Elf * fonts * It's a Wonderful Life * soldiers * Operation Christmas Child * poetry * thoughtful friends * Persephone * my parents and in-laws * music * obsessions * belly laughs * my Mom's turkey dinner * Chopped * passionate kisses * new books * new Sharpie markers * great reading conferences * good health * long walks * holding hands * laughter * old friends * the theater * reading * cards just because * compliments * learning the little quirks about your friends * Star Wars * Bond, James Bond * Chinese take out for supper * pedicures * golf * dogs * new friends * freedom * a job I love * the right to vote * my students * art museums * Norman Rockwell * a clean garage * Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey! * Scholastic Book Clubs * Sloane's wonderful, thoughtful best friends * Chapstick when my lips hurt * lotion that soaks right in * a favorite song coming on the radio * veterans * a good night's sleep * family * God's word *

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

There's just something about cousins...

What is it about cousins?

There really is something special, you know.  

I've been pondering it since we were lucky enough to have Sloane's cousins visit.  

Maybe this is it:

Being family, we are automatically close.

Not always together, we don't fight like siblings.

Living far apart, we know to treasure our time together.

I asked Sloane what she thought it was that made cousins were so special. 

Her answer was, "Everything."

Maybe she's right.  Maybe I am.

Maybe it's magic.

Either way, 

There's just something about cousins.

Make Lemonade

When Sloane was just a little thing, she was working hard on a card for her Ibu when she messed up. She was just heartbroken. Sloane asked if she could have more paper and start over. I told her that we could do that, but often a mistake is a way to really get creative. She had already done so much beautiful work, it would be a shame to toss it all over one mistake. I told her that most of the time effort to fix a mistake leads to something better and more creative than what you would have made in the first place. I said, "Why don't we try and see if we can make some lemonade out of this lemon?"

Since then, Team Lawson has made it a habit of mind to try and turn disappointments into triumphs. Thank goodness. That habit is what took us to the Oklahoma Aquarium last Saturday. We had planned a trip to the museum, but ended up arriving too late to a big crowd and higher entrance fees. We decided to save the Philbrook for another trip and do something else. Time to make lemonade.

We had a far better time at the aquarium than we would have had rushing like crazy at the museum. Plus, we got to pet sharks and stingrays. It was absolutely amazing! Do I need to tell you the the aquarium makes for some really great lemonade?


Click here for more aquarium pictures. How was your weekend?

she makes me laugh

Sloane and I always snuggle together and read a bit before lights out. Last night she snapped her graphic novel shut and looked up at me with a disgusted expression. "Man! Shakespeare sure is weird." she said.

The book? Romeo and Juliet.

Maybe she's right.

August Break, day 11. Photo: The words and image in this post are only related by the fact that I found them both to be adorable. The picture is of one of my students on the first day of school. See why I love my job?

my best gift

I was at the grocery store a few weeks ago. Not the Wal-Mart where we usually shop, but the little store in our small, country town. Everything costs more, but you can count on a smile and a chat with your purchases. That day, though, was not a chatty day for me. I had worked a long day. It was after 6:30 before I even got to the store. I was tired and not in a very chatty mood. There I was moving at a brisk pace down the aisles, barely stopping to think. The only thing I really wanted was to get home. Home.

A young girl with long, rich brown hair and a green grocery store smock stopped me. "Excuse me. Aren't you Mr. Lawson's wife?"

Don't sigh, Relyn. You aren't that tired. What's it going to hurt you to be friendly? I summoned up a smile and a friendly tone. "Hi. Yes, I sure am. Are you in one of his classes? Can I tell him hello for you?"

"Oh, sure. But, what I really wanted to do was tell you something. ... I was just hoping that you know how much Mr. Lawson loves you. He talks about you all the time, and he never says anything about you without saying, 'my gorgeous wife, Relyn.' Or, 'my brilliant wife'. Something like that. He really loves you."

As I left the store I was crying a little. Not for the gift those words were to me, though they are still an incredible gift. I was crying because of the gift his words are to his students. To those girls: some with terrible homes, some with no fathers of their own - those girls know that there are good men. Those girls know that it is worth the wait to find one who will speak only good things about them. To those boys: some who can only relate to girls with insults or objectification, some who have never been taught to honor their mothers, much less other women - those boys have seen how to treat women with respect. Those boys have witnessed first hand the kind of relationship it is possible to have.

What an incredible gift my Jeffrey is. He is a gift to me, to his daughter, to his students, to everyone who knows him. What a good and Godly man I have married. I am so grateful. Every day I am grateful.

Today is our wedding anniversary. We were married at half past two on a Sunday afternoon eighteen years ago. The day was perfect and beautiful. I thought that day that I could never love anyone more. Funny how deliciously wrong I can be. I love Jeffrey more with each day, each trial, each joy that we share.


I love you, Jeffrey, with all my heart; more and more every single day. Thank you for this beautiful, simple, magical life we share. Happy anniversary, my love. Each day with you has been a gift.


I chose this picture for today because Jeffrey spent over an hour scouting out the poppies in the wild, retracing his steps, and taking me to photograph them. That's just the kind of thing he does. Every day.

just call me Waterworks Willy...

My husband, Jeffrey, is a high school librarian. He started his education career as an English teacher and still teaches two English classes along with his full time library responsibilities. Last night was the graduation of his final class of journalism students. We weren't two minutes into the program before I started crying.

Pomp and Circumstance hadn't yet begun when my tears started. I looked over at Sloane and did some quick math. In just ten years Sloane will be the teenager in a shiny polyester gown and great shoes. She'll be one of the girls who are so excited they fairly wiggle. She'll be one of the slightly nauseous teens who can't wait for their future, but are a bit sad to be leaving all this carefree fun behind.

And me? I'll be one of the moms trying desperately to swallow around the enormous lump in my throat. I'll be one of the annoying parents with a camera in her face and loud cheers each time I hear her name. I'll be the one with no mascara so that I don't end up looking like a raccoon. I'll be one of the adults who sit there and know deep down that things will never be the same again.

I hope I will also be one of those parents who know that all of this really is OK. I hope I remember that things never have stayed the same. I hope I think back to this year and remember how many times I cried because Sloane is leaving second grade; my grade. She was born my first year of teaching, and next year she'll be older than my own students. I hope that I recall the way that every day, every school year has been new and different. The way that each year brings with it new heartaches and challenges; new successes and triumphs. I hope I remember, bone deep, that each day, every single day is such a gift. Every day with my sweet girl is nothing less than a miracle.

Because just now?

Just now I am old enough to know that ten years go by so quickly.
Ten years is no time at all.

The Bright Side Project

Do you know about the Bright Side Project? Oh, it's the most wonderful blog. You've got to go check it out. Then come back and visit me. OK?

So. You're back. When I first discovered the blog, the question was this: If you had a magic datebook where you could re-live one of the days of your lives, which day would it be and why?

I spent an hour reading all the wonderful answers people gave. I just love a thought provoking question. Don't you? So, if you could relive just one day in your life, which one would it be?

Here's mine:

I’m afraid I’ve spent nearly an hour reading all these wonderful answers. I’ve also been lost in my own happy memories, trying to pick the single day I’d do again. There have been so many wonderful days. My sixteenth birthday party was absolutely magical, but I’m going to have to go with my wedding day. I was one of those little girls who had been planning her wedding since she was five or six. My wedding day was absolutely everything I could have dreamed of. It was thrilling, gorgeous, and so very full of love. Everyone most precious to me was there. Everyone was happy and excited for us. I look back at the seventeen year old pictures and know we were just babies then. But, all the promise we can see reflected on those young faces still live in our nearly 40 year old eyes. We love each other more today than we could have dreamed of on that day. My wedding day.
Still. The best day of my life. Ever.

The Things We Do For Love

Meet Captain Anne Cutlass and her trusty swain Long Knife Tom. These two are the absolute loves of my life. This is my favorite picture. Ever. I took it last night at the end of a wonderful day. Sloane's birthday party had been postponed another week because she'd been so sick. Finally, party day arrived, 13 days after her birthday. This year was a pirate party, chosen mostly because Daddy said he would dress up if it was a pirate party. Jeffrey is one daddy who never disappoints. Ever.

Not only did he make the costumes.


He made the treasure chest.


I made the ugly cake.


Oh well. There's no such thing as Super Mom. I do think, though, there just might possibly be such a thing as Super Dad. If there is, my husband is it.

You see, Jeffrey is not a party guy. Each year he asks me in utter sincerity if we can please not have birthday party for him this year. He doesn't like parties. He doesn't like dancing. He doesn't like silly. And, most of all, he doesn't like costumes. He really, really doesn't like dancing or costumes. Jeffrey's fine with all of these things for anyone who enjoys them, just not for himself.

But, you see. Jeffrey is a Daddy. The daddy of a much loved, very silly little girl. And Daddy Jeffrey does not disappoint. So there he was, in frayed and ragged, homemade capri-length sailor pants. Nobody but me knew that his jeans were in the cupboard in case he needed to make a quick trip to the grocery store. Silly only goes so far, even for Sloane. There he was on the floor reading to a gaggle of second graders.


There he was, attaching pirate tattoos. There he was, coloring beside the shy ones. There he was, hiding the treasure chest and making his treasure map look old.

There he was. Making his daughter - and his wife - very, very happy.

Thinking Pinkly

I am joining Christina, the queen of great ideas, for Pink Thoughts. Every Thursday in October, in honor of all the woman who have fought the battle with breast cancer, we will be posting something pink. Care to join us?

Today I want to tell you about my mother-in-law.

You know, I really do want to tell you about this woman who raised the most perfect man. This man I call my husband, my life. My love. But, what to tell you? About her legendary sweetness? The way that she is so kind and delightful, so dog-gone sweet, that you'd swear you could lick her like an ice cream cone. Should I tell you about her fierce Momma-love? Tell you about the way that her 6'1" and 6'3" tall boys are instantly obedient to their tiny mother? Instantly because they love her. And respect her. Should I tell you about how she can stretch a nickle past the breaking point and still make delicious meals and give glorious presents? Should I tell you that she's been married to the same man for almost fifty years, and she's still passionately in love with him? Should I tell you about the way that her husband smiles at her? Like there is no one else in the room. Should I tell you about the way she starts every prayer with, "Our Lord, our Savior, and our God"? Should I tell you about grandma kisses, antique key necklaces, pretty yellow dresses, and shirts buttoned wrong on the hangers? What can I tell you about this wonderful woman whose life I've shared for nearly twenty years?
How about this?

She's a survivor.

This November my mother-in-law will have been cancer free for eighteen years. Eighteen years. Alive and vibrant. Happy and at peace. Living a life of service. Living to love her family. Living to serve her Father. What can I say about my mother-in-law? Just two words.

Thank God!
I love you, Ethel.


I choose these pink pictures for my mother-in-law. Because she likes pretty. Thanks to madgirl, reflectingtruth, and lesliesophialindell for the loan.