nesting * geeking * critiquing

Posts tagged “hope

SW WEEK IS HERE!

It’s finally here, you guys!!!!! In just a couple of sleeps we’ll be getting our first full look at The Force Awakens, and I’m downright giddy. GIDDY!

Because we’re this close I’m steering clear of social media until after the 7pm Thursday (CST) showing. I might make some remote posts during the movie marathon on Thursday, but I’m sure as heck not reading anything that gets posted. With friends and fellow fans across the globe getting their glimpse before I get mine, I don’t want to chance anything. Here’s a little variation on what I posted to my Facebook account yesterday in advance of my quarantine…

’Twas the week of new Star Wars, and in the Amethystos house
One girl couldn’t stop stirring—You guessed it, Severus’s spouse. (that would be me)

The tickets were purchased with months left to spare,
And now the time came, it so soon would be there;
Even when nestled all snug in my bed,
Visions of TIE Fighters danced in my head.

With trailers, tv spots and internet on tap,
Avoiding the spoilers feels like IT’S A TRAP!
Driver, Ridley, Boyega, Ford, Fisher and Hamill,
Old heroes, new villains and droids, worlds and mammals,

In J.J. we trust, it won’t be too long now,
Prepare the tears, gasps and the re-sound-ing “WOW”s.
Of course, if it’s bad, you’ll hear all of that too,
As if millions of voices cried out a “screw you!”

So now hear me exclaim as I log out of sight—
“Happy Star Wars to all, I’ll be back Thursday night!”

MAY THE FORCE BE WITH US


Anniversary

Today marks 1 year since Uncle Pete passed from this life on to eternity. I wanted to write some brilliant eulogy, to effectively capture his spirit, to express all that he meant to me and make you all wish that you had known him… But I got distracted.

So here’s something I put together in Photoshop instead 🙂

pab


Simply Sentimental

If you’re a frequent visitor to this establishment, you know that I’m smitten with snark. Today, though, I’m trading that for sentimentality. Savor it, friends.

Each week our company intranet highlights articles that call attention to the business. One such post in June came from the Edmond Sun by way of a weekly column called “As I See It” (the actual post was titled ‘Some Birthdays Outdo Others’). I enjoyed the writing so much that I decided to search
the website for other pieces by the author, one Marjorie Anderson. The more I read, the more I was convinced this delightful woman needed to have a published anthology of her wit and wisdom…
and so, I emailed the Sun‘s editor to offer my suggestion and express praises for a job well done.
The kind editor put me in touch directly with Mrs. Anderson, thus sparking a fast e-pen-pal friendship.

MA has several decades of life experience on me but I feel like we’re very much cut from the same cloth; it all goes back to my being an old soul, I suppose. She regales me with stories of her current adventures with dog Su and of days past, offers insights on a host of matters and obliges my never-ending questioning. We also share a love of cute animal videos. As an aside, you can find her books (This End Up and A Patchwork Sampler) on Amazon, and I highly suggest that you do!

This week, MA gave me a sneak peek of her Christmas column. Her lovely memories made me think about my own “glittering” Christmas recollections. I shared the following with her, so I’ll share them with you too!

I have a hard time pinpointing my favorite Christmases past. My dad was always snapping photos, so I sometimes wonder how many of my memories are actually memories and how many are just things that I think I remember from having seen the photographs all these years.

Mostly I remember a blur of decorations and gifts. Far too many gifts, really. But there is one year that stands out: Christmas 1989 if I had to guess (since I think I was in 1st grade at the time). Among the whirlwind of gifts was a musical jewelry box. It wasn’t anything special in hindsight, just some laminated chipboard in the shape of a circus train car. Regardless, I remember focusing on it that evening as my mom tucked me in and we said our bedtime prayers. For whatever reason, looking at it made me sob. I thought of all the beautiful gifts I’d received and realized, probably for the first time, that there were other little children who had nothing. There are no pictures of that moment, so I am certain it’s a memory.

angelAnother “glittering” moment for me is one that I get to re-live each year as I decorate my Christmas tree. In 1990 or ’91, I received a package in the mail from my great-grandmother in Texas. It contained the yearly check that she sent for my parents to buy me a pretty new Christmas dress (another came each Easter) and a little seashell angel ornament that she had picked up on a trip with my great-aunt and –uncle. Every year, it hangs prominently near the top of my tree though it’s probably one of the ugliest things I own. Its little mop of thinning white curls reminds me so much of my dear
Great-Mamaw.

Both of my grandmothers passed before I turned 8,
but Great-Mamaw was with us until my freshman year of high school. I was especially fortunate in that we saw her somewhat frequently despite the vast distance between Granbury, TX, and our home in Missouri. We visited Granbury once or twice a year, and she lived with us for weeks or months at a time while Uncle Dale and Aunt Martha (who passed away this year) traveled around the country.

My Christmas tree also boasts her handmade, crafted drum ornaments. Great-Mamaw’s arthritis kept her from doing much crafting in her later years, but I did get one last ornament that she made at the nursing home towards the end of her lifetime. The little felt mouse looked more like a preschool craft but it came to me with a stack of quarters from her bingo winnings. The mouse’s googly eyes have long since fallen off, but it still touches my heart. Each time I see it, I’m reminded that Great-Mamaw was thinking of me even as her pain was great in those last months.

That’s the point of Christmas, isn’t it?! At the risk of sounding preachy, I feel compelled to mention this: God was thinking of us even as He felt the pain of sending His Son from Heaven down to earth to live among us. Jesus, the namesake of Christmas, is the greatest gift God could have given us. Not only was He the greatest gift at the time of His birth, He is still the greatest gift. It was Jesus who sacrificed Himself for our sins and overcame the power of the grave to afford us the gift of life abundant. Now that is a reason to celebrate!


Man of Steel Honest Trailer

It’s certainly not for everyone, but I rather enjoy Man of Steel. In honor of today’s blu-ray release, I’ve decided to share the hilarious Honest Trailer, which touches on a couple of points I made after my first screening of the film (refresher).


Happy Pete Day!

It’s been two months and four days since my uncle Pete left behind the worries of this world.
Today would have been his 55th birthday.

Since Pete and Sherry married two months before I was born, I never knew Sherry without Pete or Pete without Sherry. They were truly two halves of an amazing whole. P&S

And the fantastic thing of it is that they still are!
In spite of the circumstances, Sherry carries on the joyful essence of their relationship and what it means to all of us. Even in her sorrow, she radiates the love and good humor that were once carried by two.

Sherry is stronger than she realizes and more inspiring than she’ll ever know.

Among countless other things, Pete and Sherry taught me how to imitate a richy-rich, snobby voice (imagine the Howells from Gilligan’s Island). Saying the most mundane things this way still reduces me to a pile of giggles.

From them, I learned to appreciate nice, long conversations held on the front porch or deck. Time is better spent outside, away from the television.

They instilled in me the therapeutic value of intermingling serious subjects and gut-busting funnies. The most beneficial laughter often accompanies tears.

Pete repeatedly demonstrated that even annoying commercials can be funny when irreverently taken out of context—he had a habit of hilariously singing and dancing like the guys in the old Nextel commercial or muddling through jingles like the McDonald’s Filet-o-Fish song.

Above all, they provided a glimpse at the beautiful result of spouses treating each other like respective kings and queens. They carried as much respect for one another as they did love.
That’s something that neither could have done without the other.

That’s something I will forever cherish.