Five-Day Weekend

From Wednesday until Sunday I had no school and only worked one shift Saturday night. In that time I did the following.

Wednesday I:
Cleaned my apartment from top to bottom. This includes but is not limited to, stripping the bed, cleaning the kitty litter, sweeping and vacuuming the floors, running the dishwasher, Mr. Clean Magic Eraser-ing the doors from Kyle's dirty handprints, scrubbing the tub, its tiles, sink and all house mirrors, and scrubbing the floors on my hands and knees using a pot of almost boiling water, pledge floor cleaner and a green scrubby.

Bathed the cat.

Did a minimal amount of homework because I got all of my major projects done last weekend so I could enjoy the holiday.

Got my hair cut again.

Baked 2 pinapple casseroles in preperations for my two Thanksgiving dinners (neither of which were eaten).

Made a brownie trifle (almost all of which got eaten).

Went to dinner with Kyle.

Saw a movie for free that sucked (Faster, some action film that Kyle's workout buddy invited us to).

Thursday I:

Went to Kyle's parents in Orlando at 9 to watch the parade.

Watched the whole parade with his sisters which was so much fun.

Helped in the kitchen, made the drop biscuits.

Ate at 1:00, left 30 minutes after and were slightly late for mom and dad's dinner, but still caught the tail end.

Played scategories with mom, grandma and neighbor glenna.

Cut coupons and planned black Friday.

Took picture for Christmas card.

Friday I:
Woke up at 2:30 to be at mom's by three. AM.

Shopped until 5 pm at Kohls, then Target, then a huge/awesome mall I'd never been to.

Ate Chik-fil-A, Subway, and Mexican as my 3 meals that day.

Learned how to Crochet while watching Garfield Christmas and The Grinch with mom and dad.

Discovered that the engine light had been on in my car because I had somehow driven off without my gas cap.

Got my windsheilf wipers replaced.

(I have to pause and say that I can't believe that after shopping for 14 hours and learning to crochet, I still was forced to go to Auto Zone and get diagnostics run on my car, buy a new gas cap and get my wipers replaced. I'm lucky my husband cares so much about my car's safety.)

Was asleep by 10

Saturday I:

Went to the flea market with Kyle.

Went to lunch at our favorite pizza place that reminds me of the place we went to in England as kids. (They use those dimply red plastic coke cups and have old arcade games in the back)

Saw a movie not that was good (Love and Other Drugs)

Went to work.

Went grocery shopping.

Sunday I:

Was late to church.

Did laundry while eating leftovers at mom and dad's.

Got a fourth row done on my scarf that I am crocheting.

Went out to eat with Kyle for the third time in one weekend (but all totalled it was technically my 6th time that weekend)--it was a new Mexican place and it was the best I have had since moving here.

Did homework.

Packed Kyle's lunch.

Went to bed.

This is what I have to say about weekends like this. They are wonderful. I did very little critical thinking--except when I was dominating scategories--and I was so tired every night that I was doing that weird laugh thing when your so tired you can't even groan and it comes out in bursts, like sleepy cackling. ?? The issue is that when you go back to the real world, you are so over all the writing and thinking you did the week before the holiday and you're so relaxed from the no-work holiday that you just want to take a nap every time you open the computer.

But here is a really funny knock knock joke I heard at work tonight and was hoping to use on Kyle when I got home but he is asleep. Alas, you will have to try it. Say the whole thing aloud:

me: Knock Knock
you: Who's there?
me: smell mupp
you: smell mupp who?

CRACK UP LAUGHING!

Please excuse this--I worked late tonight.

Enjoy

I don't have to ask you to enjoy this. You just will.

Like a Baby

This Sunday I got out the Christmas 1989 home movie. It is slightly less popular than the Christmas 1990 video because there is less fighting and more sweetness. But I enjoyed it just the same. One of my favorite moments was when Dad put the camera on the tripod to film he and mom opening gifts with Holly and Leah running back and forth bringing them their wrapped treasures--Holly mis-reading the labels, giving them to the wrong parent, and Leah correcting her. I mostly sat there and put things in my mouth. (The ten-month-old me, not the 21 year old me) But there was a moment where dad picked me up and kissed me and sat me on his knee. It made me miss being little. It made me miss being surrounded by my big sisters, mom's big hair and dad's mustache. It made me cry.

I saw lots of Steven in Leah, sliding on her belly across the kitchen floor and sticking her tongue out at the camera every chance she got. And it made me think, maybe it's not just boys who are obnoxious at that age. I saw Nolan's serious face in Holly when mom had to tear her from her nap for her own party. Kyle asked mom why she had me drinking formula at only 10 months and she said, "Cara just didn't want to nurse after 8 months. She had to be with her sisters." I still see that in me. I used to think it was cool to live in Florida--until it wasn't. Now I just feel shut out. And the more I watched that video the more I looked forward to Christmas, and not Christmas 2010 in particular. Maybe Christmas 2018--when we have a little baby (who I hope is as chubby and red-headed as I was) and a family of our own. I want so much out of life and the more I live the more I learn that God wants me to want it. He gave me life to live it and I feel every day that I am living closer to my dream.

Friday night Kyle and I were talking about how much we love being married and he said, "In just a few more years I will be exactly where I've always wanted to be." And to that I replied, "This is all I ever wanted so I'm doing pretty good." But the things I want develop. I used to want a husband, now I want a real job and then a baby. (or 2 or 3) I don't call this being unsatisfied. If all I ever wanted was a husband and after that I let things come and go as they pleased, that would be called being complacent.

The more I desire what God wants for me, the more joy I find in life. I hope the same for anyone reading this.

Video of Apartment

Remeber when you saw our apartment for the first time on THIS post back in February? Well, here is the new and imporved Thornton household. So have at it!



Complete with a blooper reel!
Your viewing pleasure would be much-improved if you had smell-a-vision. Because it smells very homey up in here.

A Moment

Saturday morning we slept in until ten. I made pancakes, sausage, eggs and cinnamon rolls and we watched a move, 8 seconds. (It's the true story of the champion bull rider of the world.) It was so nice to sit with Kyle and enjoy time not thinking about school, talking about money or worrying about the future. These moments are rare around here.

I know I am still learning to be a wife and I was reminded this weekend.

Kyle is a perfectionist and is super hard on himself when he doesn't get a concept right away or get the grade he wants. And I hate, hate, detest to see him down on himself because I know I am the same way with my own school-or I used to be.
Since we've been married, I am still the same student. I work hard, expect perfection from myself and hate criticism. But since being married, God has changed me into something better. I don't stress out about grades and beat myself up over every sore and score.
And I know that's because I am meant to support Kyle throught these times. I am so thankful for the strength to encourage him but I wish I had a little bit more. When he sighs and looks dejected and disappointed, I get so upset because I don't know how to react. I want to convince him that he is perfect but he doesn't believe me. It takes so much out of the both of us when he has a hard time on an assignment. I try to convince him that it's a small step in the big picture, but I could tell myself the same thing about this struggle.

All this to say, I cherish the moments of peace in our lives and thank God for the strength to get through the rough times. And I also thank God that this semester is flying by. My perfect husband needs a break.



This is Kyle and I out to his first lobster dinner with his dad and Mary. Just thought a blog is more fun with a picture.

Top Ten Tuesday

I haven't done one of these in a while because I have been running out of things by about 5 and by ten I am grasping at straws. But this one came pretty easily seeing as how my mind has been in a foggy fog for the past few weeks.

So here they are--The Top Ten Things I (ooh la la!) do on Autopilot.

1. Turn left out of my apartment whether or not I truly and desperately need to be turning right.

2. Type in google.com at the top of my browser before ever realizing that I do not need to google anything at the moment.

3. Put the toilet seat down. Since my cat has taken to drinking toilet water (which is blue and full of disinfecting chemicals) I have gained an excellent habit...and excellent confindence in his immune system. Because he is not even close to being dead.

4. Condition my hair. I can always remember if I have washed my hair. But every night for the past week I have had an inner dialogue with myself upon wondering whether or not I have conditioned.
"Did I condition yet?"
"No, you didn't."
"Yes I did. Remember it came out in a long snake and I swirled it up like whipped cream in my palm?"
"Oh, yes that was fun. You definately conditioned."

5. Dial Kyle's phone every.single.solitary. time that I attempt to place a call.

6. Give my customers the rundown of our new items. The other day, I listed our new items so fast and with such precise emphasis that they both stared at me and the wife said to her husband without blinking, "She's like a robot." Darn.

7. Say, "Have a good night" no matter what time of day it is.

8. Go straight to my old room when I walk into mom and dad's house. Once I get there I always just stand there wondering what I'm doing. But Sunday I decided I would leave my shoes there so I wouldn't feel so dumb.

9. Sing. This is more of activity I do while on autopilot. I just always hum or sing while at work to the point where I don't realize I'm doing it unless someone acknowledges it.

10. Correct grammar. I edit Kyle's papers every Monday and have become quite efficient and can do it while watching The Office. (The Office Starts This Week)

Ghost Clocks

In the happy Marsh home there was always one clock on the living room wall that chimed every hour. It was subdued, soft and sweet enough to go unnoticed most of the time by the happy family. And it never interrupted their thoughts or caused them discomfort. It belonged.

Then Grandpa made another chiming clock for the house which already had its own clock. The living room clock did not understand why it was being replaced by this new clock that stood on its own two legs and had shelves for little statues and glass figurines. "You're not being replaced, chimed the new clock. But soon you'll be forgotten." It's chime was sweet and unsettling. But the living room clock did not respond, for it was getting close to the hour. It's chime was strong and humble. But the new clock yet persisted. "You chime every hour. And so do I. But can you chime on the half-hour? On the quarter-hour? I can. And I will."

And so it did. But the living room clock was not soon forgotten. The family still remembered to change its batteries and set it at daylight savings times. It still belonged. Meanwhile, Grandpa donated yet another clock to the house that already had two clocks. This one sat on its own like the new clock, which was now the not-so-new clock. But this new clock was short, and was what is called a mantle clock. It sat on the mantle where it belonged. But there was a problem with this mantle. This mantle was located in the living room, the same room from which the living room clock hung--the same room from which the living room clock chimed its chimes. "This will not do," said the living room clock--the real living room clock that is.

But before the real living room clock could hatch a plan to get rid of the clock that sat on the mantle that happened to be in the living room, something was discovered about the clock on the mantle. When the living room clock and the not-so-new clock that chimed on every quarter-hour, half-hour and hour were chiming on the hour, the mantle clock was not chiming. And when the living room clock and the not-so-new clock were not chiming, the mantle clock was chiming. It chimed loud and was very proud to also chime every quarter and half hour. "It is your kind of clock," said the living room clock to the not-so-new clock. "Tell it when to chime." But the not-so-new clock refused. "I cannot help that one. It is so old, that it must be wound in the back and there is no one to wind it."

But the living room clock knew that all was not lost. The young girl of the house was always very unsettled by the chiming of the not-so-new clock. So the living room clock waited patiently for the young girl to grow weary of the loud mantle clock on its irregular schedule. And she did. She tried moving it to the counter. "But I am a mantle clock," it would say. "A counter-clock is a direction or movement, not a proper name for a clock of my stature." So, the proud clock was moved back to his mantle. The living room clock grew restless but the young girl did not disappoint. She found a way to stop the mantle clock's chiming once and for all. For by tipping the clock forward and placing under it a stack of tissue, half a deck of playing cards, or a packet of post-it notes, the pendulum would fall forward, thus disabling the mantle clock from chiming loudly and obnoxiously and all times of day and night.

The living room clock was satisfied. "You were always my favorite clock," said the girl to the living room clock at 2:15 one afternoon. Just then, the not-so-new clock chimed in. After all, it was the quarter of the hour. "And you," said the young girl, holding up a stack of post-it notes to the not-so-new clock, "you're next."

This story is purely fictional. Any resemblance of names, faces, pendulums or living rooms living or dead is purely coincidental. By Cara Thornton.

Author's note: I was inspired to write this story by the chimes I think I can still hear when my apartment is quiet. These are the Ghost Clocks. They make me miss that living room clock, and only that living room clock.