My Great Gram

My great grandmother, Mary Thompson, turned 90 the day I got married. She raised four boys in a tiny adorable house in New Jersey and she lived here until she died.

She loved her family, her four boys, her grandchildren, her great grandchildren and her great great grandchildren, and we were blessed to know her.

She sent me birthday cards with five dollars tucked inside every year for my entire life. She would make me and my cousins matching presents, that differed only in color.

She loved to read and whenever we visited she would send me home with a bag full of books, which to my book-loving soul always felt like Christmas.

She was Catholic and could quote the Old Latin Mass and she laughed at my mom when my mom called to ask her what she thought of the recent changes to the liturgy, saying "I can still say them Latin so they can change them however they want."

Once we sent her a Bible cover for her birthday, but she sent it back saying she didn't need it because her priest told her everything she needed to know about the Bible, so when I went to Israel, I got smart and sent her a wooden rosary I found in Bethlehem instead.

When I finally remembered to mail it out, she sent me the sweetest thank you note written in the most beautiful sweeping cursive. It was the kind of note people don't write anymore, the kind of note that gets lost in a sea of text messages and shorthand.

I remember when I was young I saw a picture of her on her wedding day in her back room and I remember looking at and thinking she looked just like my mom, which maybe meant I looked like a little bit like her too.

I hope that's true, because even at 92 she was beautiful, inside and out.

That day I became official?

I finally got a name plate added to my office door, just a few days shy of my second work-iverary at this church.

And now, as I sit in said office, writing a sermon, planning a mission trip and outlining the fall schedule, I must say I feel very official.

That day we first explored our new park

“In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.” -
Aristotle

It was raining. And I was wearing flip flops. And I had forgotten the bug spray. 

But you should know that there were fireflies.

And even though I got bit no less than 8 times and was up to my knees in mud, I'm pretty sure it is the best park in the whole world. 

And it is right behind the home that will (with fingers crossed and lots of prayers) be ours in 22 more days. 

That weekend we snuck away

"Let us step into the night and purse that flighty temptress, adventure!" - Albus Dumbledore

Thanks to an amazing beautiful and thoughtful gift from my beautiful, amazing and thoughtful friend, Blair, Guy and I got to sneak away to Chattanooga for a small weekend adventure.

We were able to stay at a Bed and Breakfast in downtown Chattanooga, called the Stone Fort Inn. I made Guy take off work a little early so we get there right at 5 so that we could explore a little before dinner at their restaurant, Terra Mae Appalachian Bistro. 

Our room was gorgeous and it had a giant whirlpool tub (my favorite). Honestly, I probably would have been okay just hanging out in the room all the night, because it was that good.

But instead, we got dressed up and went to dinner and tried not to feel too out of place at a real restaurant (that you know, wasn't a Chick-fil-a).

I had the Applewood Bacon Wrapped Scallops which were pretty good, but Guy's meal definitely took the prize. He got the Appalachian Lunchable, at seen below. Yes...that is bacon in a mason jar. Something about that mason jar just made it taste better.

After dessert, we wandered around downtown for a bit. There was a free concert that night so there were a lot of people roaming around. Chattanooga slowly wins a bit more of my heart every time we go there. It might just be that I have soft spot for small cities with rivers, but whatever it is, I love Chattanooga.

The next morning we met up with our favorite Mary, to do some thrifting and to look at her new house. She then took us to eat fried food, like any good Southern host should do. We ate at this restaurant called Champy's, where I had my all time favorite lunch food, a buffalo chicken salad. To top it off, Mary told us as we were leaving about a gelato place, Milk and Honey that had just opened (be still my heart). I obviously had to take a picture so I could instagram it as I was told all the cool people do.

After that, we wandered around an antique store to keep out of the heat before heading to my parents' house to celebrate my dad's birthday (which meant more good food: roasted duck breast, four cheese risotto and strawberry pie). I'm realizing that if you're thinking all we did was eat on this trip, you would probably be right.

We were only gone for a night and we were home before we knew it, but this little escape was a beautiful and much needed adventure.

Thanks, Blair. You have no idea how much this meant to me!