Lesson # 2 Update of the Update (aka. More Pictures!)

I know, I know! This is not what my blog is supposed to be about. But who could resist posting such great pictures? The kids and I went for a walk around the neighborhood today and these are some great shots I thought I would share.

Playing in the snow is cool!

Peek-a-boo!

To help put things in perspective.....

This is my car, completely buried in snow!

For those of you have always wondered what

palm trees covered in snow look like!

Winter wonderland!

And............ I promise not to diverge from the blog topic for the next week!

Lesson #2 Update: We have pictures!

We had finished the first snowman on the block by 11:00 am this morning!

You can't have a snow man without a snow angel!

"You are never too old to play in the snow"

Snowman #2 - Notice the toes!

We just thought this was too cute not to share!

Lesson #2: You are never too old to play in the snow!

OK, honestly, this is not exactly the second lesson I wanted to share. I was planning to choose a lesson that would pull at your heartstrings, give you a profound new outlook on life, maybe even make you want to share it with your own children. Truthfully, I am not even sure that this is a lesson that my mother taught me! However, when I woke up to the winter wonderland outside of my window this morning, I couldn't resist sharing it with my readers. I really have to start another blog to deal with topics that aren't really related to this blog. But, until then, I guess I will just have to find a way to turn these stories I want to share into lessons my mother taught me - or at least, lessons she could have taught me.

Actually, this is a lesson that I have shared with my own children. From the time my children were babies, I have made it a point to share the snow with them. Here are some of the cool things we have done to share the snow:

• Eaten snow topped with molasses. I know this is a bad idea but I thought the risk was worth the chance for them to say to their children that they had actually done this. Kind of like, "when I was a kid..... we had to eat snow with molasses because we ran out of food during the blizzard"!


• Made a million snow men, women, and children. We are actually the "snow family" experts on our block and kids come from all around just to see how we do it. We really just learned through trial and error, but I have to admit, we are pretty awesome! Soon after we moved to Jordan, they had the worst blizzard in the past 50 years. We were ecstatic and suited up to tackle our first Jordanian snow. Downstairs, we started to work on one of our trademark snow men, including the carrot nose, button eyes, hat and scarf. A short while later, a neighbor approached my husband to inquire about our work. My husband came back all smiles announcing that now "everyone knew we from America"! I guess we did have some influence on everyone around us because every time it snows, you can look out the window and see happy little snow families for as far as your eye can see.


• Saved a snow ball in the freezer for a hot summer day. Inevitably, sometime in mid-July, when I finally get around to cleaning out my freezer, I always find a Ziploc bag with a mysterious blob of frozen snow. Seems they remember to do this, even when I don't!

• Ended a day of fun with an old fashioned mug of hot chocolate. Need I say more!

Note to my readers back home in Alabama........ Yes, it does snow in Amman, Jordan and no, I do not live in the desert. If you look at any map, you will see that share an almost identical latitudinal coordinate with you - Amman, Jordan (31° 57' 0") and Calera, Alabama (33° 6' 10"). Therefore, our weather is pretty much the same. At least the year round temperature is almost identical. We have one advantage over you which is that we have almost no humidity. On the other hand, Alabama gets to enjoy rain and thunderstorms year round - we have no rain from early May until late November.

Lesson #1: How to Tie a Cherry Stem With Your Tongue

Now, I am sure that many of my readers, ie. those who do not know my mother, are wondering what kind of sick and strange family I grew up in. But for those of you who know us, you are probably not surprised that this would be the first lesson I would choose to share with the world.

Believe it or not, I googled "how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue" and Google search returned 3,430 web pages with related topics. I guess we are not so strange after all! As a matter of fact, according to a recent poll by Survey Central, 18% of those surveyed actually share our talent. However, the most shocking figure in the survey showed that 37% of respondents have never even tried. Come on people, get with the program! You never know when you may be asked to do this. Maybe in your next job interview. Maybe on an audition for some new reality show. Maybe by a prospective mate. You just never know. Heck, I may still be single save my abilities with the cherry stem!

For those of you who are interested in testing your talents, and for the 37% of Americans who have never tried, click here for the easiest instructions I could find on how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue. Good luck and happy tieing!

Where I'm From

This poem is one I composed for a friend's blog early last year. I decided to make this my first post because I think it will give my readers a good idea of who I am, where I come from, and where I am going.

I am from a little cul-de-sac, a dead end in a long and winding road; from my granny’s cobbler made with blackberries picked on the side of the river road on a lazy summer day.

I am from the first house built on the block, the house that stood alone for so long. The house filled with a little girl’s memories of days long gone, the house waiting patiently for that little girl to return. A house whose days were darkened with great sorrow and later brightened with even greater joy. Dashed hopes, unfulfilled dreams overcome with a mother’s stubborn determination and independent will. Forgiveness and love.

I am from wicker baskets filled with dried lavender and African violets blooming in the kitchen window.

I am from Friday night football games cheering on my Eagles in a stadium bearing my father’s name. From cutting cute blonde bangs on the front steps of an old green house; from Big Ma, Pa Ed and As Levan.

I am from blind, unconditional love and Granny Roy’s hugs that could heal any broken heart.From the golden child aspiring to keep a dream cut short alive, to finding the self no one could have foreseen.

I am from everywhere. Saturday night gospel singings at the Walker County Auditorium and family bible readings beside an unlit fire. Rex Humbard saving the souls of the heathen on TV and Earnest Angsley healing only those who believed. It’s a wonder how I found my way; from Sunday Schools and VBS to Friday Prayers and Ramadan. What a shock for those I loved. What a shock for me

I'm from Cairns’ and Tomlin’s and Levan’s I never knew. And from Roy’s who run as deep in my blood as the water runs deep in the sea. The deep south, southern bells and rebel flags. Chilton County peaches and pecans off the tree behind Mama Clara’s house. Pecan pie.

From valiant young grandfathers who fought bravely in 1943, and the lovelorn grandmothers who waited back at home faithfully, the early ending memories of a man I never really knew.

I am from independent women and hard-working men. From a sister who I love and a brother I wish I really knew. From a mother who tried to understand and “father” who does the best he can. Thank you God for giving me what you have. Life is nothing more than our memories and my memories are grand.