Be real. Be alive.

The Canfield Fair is a pretty big deal in my hometown and growing-up, it was a yearly tradition for our family.  Even though every year was pretty much the same, something different always happened.  One year I held the record for longest free hang at the Marine station.  Another year I remember attending the 4H dance.  One year my boyfriend sang karaoke.  When we were a little older, my brother and I walked the fair alone once and I remember some hick high school bullies throwing mulch at us.

My favorite memory of the Canfield Fair was one I shared with my dad and it's probably my favorite childhood memory of my dad.  

The Omni was in our family for longer than I can remember.  When we finally took it to the junkyard, miraculously still running without a problem, we made a scrapbook to commemorate it.  In it's last years, the Omni was dad's work vehicle.  Covered in construction dusk and full of tools, he and I were in the car alone.  It's one of the only times I can remember when it was just he and I.

Fair traffic was horrible and almost unavoidable.  Sitting in the bumper to bumper, stopped traffic, waiting to get into the fair, my dad and I began to play.  Dad found an orange construction vest and a hard hat for me and one for himself as well.  He joked about how everyone needed to get out of our way because we were in such a hurray to see the sights and eat the food; how we were in a state of fair emergency.  He put his orange rotating construction light on top of the car and starting "yelling at" the traffic director.  I giggled and giggled.  Of course we looked like fools in our little Omni, orange construction outfits, and flashing light.  And of course it didn't get us to our parking spot any faster.  But it was fun and silly.

My dad was alive that day.

This weekend I attended the National Youth Workers Convention and one of the speakers briefly touched on the importance of being real and alive.  Immediately that time with my dad came to my mind.

I want to be remembered for the times I laughed so hard I cried and I cried so hard I laughed.  I want these times to be rampent, part of my every day.  

I want to live life alive.

Halloween Stage

For our Halloween service, we went all out in Fusion (our student ministry at Southern Hills Christian Church).  A few spider webs here, a giant spider there, some hanging clothes, a BUNCH of pumpkins, eery lighting, and VOILA!

(As usual, the pictures don't do it justice, but you get the idea.)

The orange "string" is actually marking tape, available at Lowes or Home Depot.  This was part of the preexisting stage design, but added a lot to the Halloween decor.

Corey and I continue to enjoy the pumpkins as we take them home and roast the seeds.  Yum!

Tis the season...

I love Halloween.

I like getting candy.
I like giving candy.
I like the themed party foods.
I like the decorations.
I like the crazy games.
I like the music.
Fall weather seems to drain people's joy and Halloween provides a boost of excitement.
But mostly I love dressing up.

I start thinking about my costume the night of Halloween... the year before.

Last year, Corey and I teamed up with a group of our friends and patrolled the streets in Elizabeth City as Batman characters.  We were stopped several times by parents and asked to pose for a picture with their son who also donned a batman suit.

This year we've had lots of ideas, but none have come to fruition yet (partially because it's hard to top last year and partially because we have no plans or people to plan with).  So if you're looking for some fellow Halloweeners to share in the festivities with, let us know!

At the Circus

This past Sunday in our children's program we finished a circus series titled "Under the Big Top."  To create a tent look, we used plastic table cloth, tacking it into the wall and ceiling.  We feared the kids would demolish it, but as you can see it held up fairly well over the 8 weeks.  We gathered some props from around the church and from a few friends (yes, that is a unicycle that one of our volunteers can actually ride!).  We created a concession stand out of 2x4s and once used coroplast.  Coroplast doesn't hold paint well (you can scratch it off with your finger nail), but it was a resource we already had and could reuse.

The table cloths to the side of the stage proved difficult to hang and stay in place because we couldn't affix them to a cinderblock wall.  Eventually we gave up fixing them every week, but no one seemed to notice and they still looked ok.  We bought a few clown like hats at Target and used them to display the interactive elements, juggling scarves and balls.  We also had Buddy Walking boards and put those out for the kids to play with.

I always consider costumes as part of decorating the stage.  Dressing the part adds so much and completes the look.  Corey was the ring master.  Occasionally we had a clown, juggler, lion tamer, and once we had a guy on stilts.  It was a great series, but on to the next! 

Silly Husband

Lounging in the living room, Nicole lets out a sigh.  "I want to blog, but I don't know what to write about."
Without hesitation Corey responds, "Write about your husband."

Uhhh... ok...

My husband is a goof.
Most people don't see this side of him, but I do.
When we're alone, he dances.
He makes ridiculous faces.
He sings.
He gets loud.

He laughs.  A lot.


Corey and I made the 10 hour drive from Georgia to North Carolina on Tuesday.  When I wasn't sleeping, we were laughing, at ourselves and each other.  No matter what we're doing, when we're together we have fun.

I'm glad Corey can be totally himself with me.  I wouldn't have it any other way and I love him just the way he is.

Yum yum yum

I'm not big on cooking.
I can cook (sorta); I just don't like to.
First- It doesn't come naturally to me.  (A pinch?  A dash?  Those aren't measurements!)
Second- I don't find joy in it.   Cooking is more of a chore for me.

Lately I've been cooking more and more, learning how to experiment, and I'm slowly coming around, but I'm by no means a chef yet.

Baking on the other hand- I LOVE to bake.
Cooking is serious business; baking is a child's game.
I love the way it makes my house smell.
Even though it makes a mess, it's a fun mess.
And baked goods are easier to share.

But baking isn't healthy.  Take this snack mix I just made.

It's sooooo good and soooo bad for you!  A whole stick of butter, karo syrup, and a cup on brown sugar coating an already sugary cereal.  Toss in some M&Ms and it's a sugary rush on it's way to diabetes.  

Baking doesn't sustain life; it puts you in a coma.

Yet I made a special trip to Wal-Mart to get the ingredients and haven't given a thought to what's for dinner.

Music that bonds

I pumped up Matisyahu before the "One Day" video was even in production.

I was jamming to Mumford and Sons before they were editing "Lion Man" for the radio.

I had Adelle on my playlist way before she was featured at the VMAs.

People often brag about knowing bands before they become popular, but honestly I couldn't care less.

It's not that I seek out to find the "next big thing" before anyone else.
It's a proximity hazard.

My college roommate Sam is a music connoisseur and has this unnatural talent of finding obscure music that eventually sweeps the nation.

While rooming together, I loved how she would introduce me to new bands.  When we visit, one of the many things I look forward to is scrolling through her new music.

I miss dancing to Indi music together.
I miss the many ways she remixed "Survive."
I miss cruising with the windows down (not by choice; her AC was broken) and listening to her newest discovered jam as loud as her speakers would permit.

I miss my Mantha.