We spent the weekend in Mississippi, and for most of Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, our primary activity was Dodging Storms. The weather was absolutely terrible, but fortunately we avoided the worst of it. I am pretty fearless when it comes to bad weather as long as I’m sitting in my house, but if you put me in a moving vehicle in the midst of pelting sheets of rain, I will go all mashing-on-my-pretend-brake-from-the-passenger-seat on you. It’s a little annoying for the person who happens to be driving, but I for one find great comfort in my panicked behavior.

Friday night we had a great supper with my parents, my aunt C, my cousin Paige and her little boy Joseph. There was fried chicken, deviled eggplant (I will share the recipe later this week because IT. IS. DIVINE.), butterbeans, seven-layer salad, cornbread and banana pudding, and every single bit of it tasted like home. It was actually very special to be reunited with the seven-layer salad; I made it so often when David and I were first married that I burned out on it, and I honestly don’t think I’ve had it in about ten years. But oh, now that I remember its deliciousness I will be making it again very soon, and it will be my sweet privilege to serve it so frequently that I burn us out on it all over again.

Hi. My name is Sophie. From time to time I get in food ruts. It’s lovely to meet you.

After supper we sat around the table for about an hour, talking about who’s getting married and our favorite vegetables and whether or not Chinese chicken salad is a suitable entree’ for a bridesmaids’ luncheon, and out of nowhere Mama mentioned how she’s just sick and tired of everybody dying. And the thing about death is that it’s not really one of those things where you can just get fed up and take action. I mean, if you’re sick and tired of not being able to find your favorite brand of hair spray, you can usually do something about it. You can call a drugstore or talk to the person who cuts your hair or something. And if you’re sick and tired of not being able to get your favorite mashed potatoes on the Golden Corral buffet, well, you can take that up with the manager.

But if you’re sick and tired of death – well – that’s not really an issue where you can do much to effect change.

Anyway, Mama’s statement led to a back-and-forth between her and C that might as well have been titled “People We Know Who Have Died,” and after they’d named about six or seven people, Mama said, “You know what really made me sad? When my friend Margaret died. I just couldn’t believe when that happened two weeks ago. Or a month ago. Or six weeks ago. Or three months ago. Or whenever it was.”

About that time David piped up from across the table and said, “So what you’re telling us is that at some undetermined date within the last two days or two weeks or six months, your friend Margaret passed away?”

“Why yes, that’s exactly right,” Mama replied. And we all got very tickled. Mama’s recollection of the specific details wasn’t really the point, I reckon.

Saturday morning we left the house pretty early to drive to Jackson for the christening of David’s goddaughter. Our friends Todd and Marti had a little girl named Gracie back in December, and since they live in California, we were way past ready to finally see Miss Gracie in person. In fact, when we got to Todd’s daddy’s house Saturday morning, I may or may not have snatched her from her daddy’s arms and completely monopolized her for approximately one hour. But I couldn’t help it. She’s four and a half months and at that stage where she’s just a chunk of love who likes to smile and stare. I could’ve gnawed on her cheeks all days long.

GNAWGNAWGNAWGNAWGNAWGNAWGNAW.

We hung out at Todd’s daddy’s house for a few hours after we finished with everything at the church, and it was so fun to visit with the families and watch all the kids run around and marvel at how quickly the time flies and yes, I know that’s a total cliche’, but do you know why it’s a cliche’? BECAUSE IT’S TRUE.

It was the sweetest, best day.

After the worst of the storms had passed, we drove back to Mama and Daddy’s, but I can’t tell you about any of that right now because it’s almost midnight and my eyes seem to be closing involuntarily. So just know that I’ll be back later to tell you about a giveaway that I think you’ll love. Not to mention the tales of even more food and – get ready – Sissie’s 100th birthday party.

Yep. You read that correctly. We celebrated Sissie’s ONE HUNDREDTH birthday.

It was a big weekend, you know?

See y’all in a little while.

Our nine year-old leaf blower quit working at some point during the winter, and after a couple of attempts to resurrect it by replacing parts, D realized that the engine was cracked. I didn’t realize that was a big deal because I figured you could just seal it up with some duct tape or something. As you may have guessed by now, I’m a bit of an expert in small engine maintenance and repair.

Once D realized that Old Faithful was going to have to be replaced, he started researching his options. After much thought and comparison and prayer, he decided to go with an electric leaf blower instead of a gas-powered one because 1) it was cheaper 2) it had some vacuum-attachment thing-y that mulches leaves and 3) it got good reviews on Amazon. So basically it was a power tool trifecta.

This past Saturday morning D went to Lowe’s and bought the new leaf blower. Since we already owned an extension cord that’s approximately the length of a regulation-sized football field, as soon as he got home and took the leaf blower out of the box, he was in business.

Imagine, if you will, his joy. I daresay that it was palpable.

I walked outside in the midst of the new leaf blower’s introduction to our driveway, and as I looked at the box that was still on our front porch, I got a little tickled. Because somebody in Black & Decker’s marketing department knew exactly what they were doing.

Oh, it looks innocent enough.

But this B&D box offers some none-too-subtle Man Bait.

First of all, it’s a LeafHog. I have no idea what that is, mind you, but it sounds menacing. It certainly seems like a LeafHog would be bad news for leaves, doesn’t it?

It also seems like there would be no small degree of snorting.

Next, it’s a LeafBlaster^TM. Not just a mover – not just a blower – a BLASTER.

Frankly I don’t know how any man could resist this product, because inherent in the LeafBlaster^TM designation is the possibility that SOME LEAVES MIGHT EXPLODE.

And if the hogging and the blasting weren’t enough, this leaf blower also has an Anti-Clog Vortex. CONSIDER IT SOLD.

By the way, when I saw “Metal Impeller,” I thought that was bound to be a French term – you know, a friendly translation of “Anti-Clog Vortex” for our European friends.

But no. No. It’s actually English. And I know that to be true because I googled it.

And that’s not all, my friends. It’s also POWERFUL UP TO 240 MPH.

At first I was puzzled by this claim, because as far as I know a leaf blower is not intended to be used as a small aircraft. But then I realized that it can blow leaves at a force of up to 240 MPH, thereby rendering this model of leaf blower irresistible to anyone with a Y chromosome. Even my own husband said, “THIS THING IS FOUR TIMES AS POWERFUL AS DAMAGING WINDS.”

Man Bait. Plain and simple.

I rest my case.

So at the beginning of last week, when I was in the throes of a condition called The NCAA Selection Committee Has Angered Me, I decided that a trip to Starkville for the first round of the NIT was just what the basketball doctor ordered. Since my friend Emma Kate and her family were also going, we coordinated our plans and worked out a way that we could ride together to the game.

As soon as we got to Starkville, we went to Little Dooey for supper. If you’re not familiar with The Dooey, you’ll just have to take my word that they have great BBQ and deeeeee-licious fried catfish. I actually meant to take a picture of my catfish plate, but unfortunately my fork involuntarily swooped down to the food before I could pick up my camera. And I could hardly blame the fork, because oh my word at the tastiness. Such a treat.

After we ate, I snapped a picture of two of my very favorite people in the whole wide world.

By the way, Alex adores “Miss Emma Kate.” So does his mama.

After supper we drove over to the coliseum, and we walked in right about the time that the Bulldogs were taking the floor for warm-ups. State fans are a loyal bunch, you know, and between the way the Kentucky game ended and the NCAA tournament snub, there was no question that we would rally behind our team – which is why our boys got standing ovations at the beginning and end of warm-ups. Bless their hearts.

And they had two dedicated little fans waiting to high-five them when they walked back to the locker room.

That’s EK’s younger son with Alex. The matching #24 football jerseys weren’t planned, but somehow they seemed fitting since there were many, MANY days in college when EK and I wore eerily similar hair bows. Not to mention that we both enjoyed extensive collections of novelty sweaters.

They’re our mini-me’s.

(Listen. I went back and forth on using an apostrophe to make the word “me” plural. BACK AND FORTH. But somehow “mes” looks all wrong. Hence the extraneous apostrophe for clarity. I DO APOLOGIZE.)

We had a fine time at the game (we won! we won!), and even though it was almost midnight when the game was over, we stayed until the bitter end because that, that is what I do. It’s who I am. Whether we’re winning 100-14 or losing 56-3, I will not leave a sporting event until the final buzzer has sounded because WHAT IF I MISS SOMETHING IMPORTANT, THAT WOULD BE TERRIBLE.

Our original plan was to spend the night at EK’s on Tuesday night and then head back to Alabammy, but one night was so nice that we decided to stay two. We got to catch up with some of our sweetest friends and spend an inordinate amount of time in EK’s orange chairs.

The orange chairs are a happy place. Problems get solved there.

We drove home Thursday afternoon, and I’ve been in Official Nesting Mode ever since. The combination of the blue skies and the buds on the trees has put me in the mood for spring cleaning and all that goes with it. We’ve spent the last part of spring break with the doors open and lots of kids running through the house. I refilled the bird feeder and don’t even care (yet) that the squirrels will be attacking it within a couple of days. We’ve watched a whole lot of basketball, tackled some organizational ish-ahs that had been driving me cuckoo, and laughed more than we deserve.

It’s been so good.

Even if the Bulldogs lost to North Carolina in the second round of the NIT.

But we won’t talk about that right now, lest we spoil all the spring break goodness.

Hope your week was filled with goodness, too!

…we improvised.

It was mighty chilly, after all.

She looks cute in green, don’t you think?

They say that necessity is the mother of invention.

But I think maybe it’s desperation.

Bless their little snow-deprived hearts.