It’s been a while since I’ve done a post about random things I’m enjoying, so I thought tonight seemed like a fine time to pull together a little list. Considering that I didn’t get supper on the table until about an hour later than usual (pre-heated grill, put chicken on grill, went outside to flip chicken, grill was out of gas, moved chicken indoors, located big skillet, etc.), and since for some reason falling behind schedule made me very rattled and jumpy and whathaveyou, I’m hoping this little list-o-favorites will provide a SERENITY NOW moment.

Listen. Every so often a good list can soothe and comfort me. I believe that’s what you call AN ILLUSION OF CONTROL.

– NARS Pressed Powder in Flesh

I bought this powder on a whim this past February, and I’ve used it ever since. Now granted, it’s a little pricey, but it’s my all-time favorite. It’s great over foundation, over tinted moisturizer, or on its own, and if you like a matte (but not thick) finish, you’ll love it, too.

– “Call Home” by Noah Guthrie

Noah’s mom Lori has been commenting (and making me laugh) since the early days of this here blog. Last year Lori told me that her son had recorded some music videos for YouTube, and I decided to check them out because, well, I am one nosy individual. At the time Noah was covering songs by other artists, and since I love me a good cover, I was FASCINATED by his talent. Apparently other people were, too, because Noah actually released a studio album last month, and his first single is fantastic. See (and hear) for yourself.

– “The Delta 101” by Julia Reed

It’s no secret that I’m wildly sentimental about my home state of Mississippi, and over the last six or so months it seems like I’ve had an inordinate number of conversations about the Mississippi Delta. I’m not from the Delta, but I’ve long been fascinated by it. It’s difficult to explain to people who have never seen or experienced it in person, and that’s one reason why I so appreciate this article by Julia Reed. It’s beautifully written, and it perfectly captures a place that’s quite the character in its own right.

– Paradise Valley by John Mayer

So yeah. Still obsessed with this one.

– Rimmel Lash Accelerator Endless Mascara

I know. I have a new favorite mascara every two months. But I really, really like the brush on this one. And it doesn’t clump at all. And it is EIGHT DOLLARS AND NINETY NINE CENTS.

– Wusthof Gourmet Hollow-Edge Santoku Knife, 7″

My fellas gave me this knife a couple of years ago, and I adore it. I feel certain that I look at it lovingly when I’m chopping or slicing or dicing whatever happens to be on the menu. It is hands-down my favorite kitchen tool, and I use it every single day of my life. I used to think it was ridiculous to spend more than $25 on a knife, but I HAVE LEARNED THE ERROR OF MY WAYS. This knife is a treasure. Whither thou goest, etc.

– “Grace” by Beth Moore

If you participated in the Living Proof Live simulcast this past Saturday, you probably remember that Beth read something she’d written about grace at the end of the second session (at least I think it was the second session). I was trying to soak up every word as she read it, and I even thought about trying to write it down, but there just wasn’t time. Well, fortunately for all of us, Beth posted it on her blog today, and it is every bit as gorgeous as I remember. As my friend Elise would say: “if that don’t light your fire, your wood’s wet.” So, so good.

Happy Wednesday, y’all!

It was about 1:45 when I landed in Atlanta this past Sunday afternoon, and as soon as I got off the plane, I came up with a plan. I had a little over an hour until my flight to Birmingham, so I wanted to get to my gate, grab a sandwich, eat some lunch, and hopefully have time for a round or two of Candy Crush while I sipped on a pre-flight two-pump pumpkin spice latte’.

Listen. Sometimes a mental to-do list is the only thing that gets me through the day. And also caffeine.

So I hopped on the subway / tram thing for a ride to the next terminal, found my gate, stopped at Atlanta Bread Company for a sandwich, then tried to gauge whether or not there was time for a PSL. Since the line at Starbucks was surprisingly short, I decided that time was in fact on my side. I ran in the restroom, washed my hands, dashed over to Starbucks, and within about five minutes, I had a PSL in my possession. The only thing missing was the actual crushing of the candies, and I planned to remedy that ASAP.

I found a seat at my gate with enough room around it for all my paraphernalia, and after a few sips of coffee, I was more than ready to tackle the quests after level 50. It was time to make some stripes, make some wrappers, and make the long-awaited transition to level 51. Hallelujah. Amen.

Unfortunately, there was just one tiny little problem: I couldn’t seem to find my phone.

And as I mentally retraced my steps, I realized that the last time I had my phone in my hands, I was walking in the restroom. Ten minutes ago.

Needless to say, this memory neither comforted nor encouraged me.

As quickly as I could, I gathered up my purse, my coffee, and my big ole tote bag, and I ran back to the restroom. I looked on the floor, on the countertop next to the sink, in the open stalls, but that phone was nowhere to be found.

Oh, y’all. I was just sick about it. Because I don’t know if you know this or not, but if you lose your phone in the Atlanta airport, odds are that it is Gone Forever.

I may have also been having a crisis of conscience about a few gossip-y text messages that were most definitely not written as unto the Lord.

A very sweet restroom attendant told me that I should probably go to lost and found on the first floor, but I was worried that if I tried to get to another part of the terminal, I might miss my flight. So for about thirty seconds, I just stood there in the restroom, wondering what in the world to do, wondering how in the world I could have done something so careless, wondering why in the world I had not PUT MY PHONE BACK IN MY PURSE INSTEAD OF ON A SHELF IN THE RESTROOM.

Somehow, in the midst of all my panic, my brain realized that there was some kind of announcement coming out of the speaker above my head, so I tuned in. What I heard turned out to be the nine most favorite words of my day: “Shopie Hudson, please report to the Delta courtesy desk.” And then again: “Shopie Hudson, please report to the Delta courtesy desk.”

Neveryoumind that he didn’t pronounce my name correctly. I’ll answer to “Shopie” all the livelong day if there’s a possibility that someone may have found my phone. I’ll answer to “Gertrude,” for that matter. “Horace.” TAKE YOUR PICK.

So. After I checked at my gate to make sure that my plane was not about to leave, I asked where I could find the Delta courtesy desk. I then proceeded to run in that direction LIKE MY HAIR WAS ON FIRE. Fortunately I didn’t have to run very far, and as I turned the corner, I saw the face of the sweetest girl – maybe 17 or 18 years old – standing in front of me.

“Shopie!” she said, with the most beautiful Spanish accent. “You lost your phone!”

I couldn’t figure out how in the world she knew the phone belonged to me, but then she held out my phone and turned it around to show me. She’d opened my Facebook app, seen my name – and then she had me paged.

Suffice it to say that I’ve never been happier that I don’t use the passcode option.

My new forever friend and I struggled to communicate a little bit since I’m sort of dependent on English and she’s sort of dependent on Spanish, but I did manage to find out that she lives in Barcelona, Spain. She was traveling with three other members of her family, and I must have thanked all of them 19 or 45 times over the course of about four minutes. At one point I tried to give the girl some money as a reward – I was so grateful and didn’t know what else to do – but she wouldn’t take it. So we said our good-byes and I hugged her neck and I was about to walk away when I remembered that I had five or six copies of my book in my tote bag.

And y’all, I don’t know what came over me, but I dug down in my bag, pulled out a book, and handed it to her.

“Here!” I said. “I wrote a book. I’d like for you to have one. As a thank you. Since you found my phone.”

Because SURE. OF COURSE. I mean, you know what’s all the rage with teenagers in Barcelona these days? SOUTHERN NON-FICTION.

Oh, I can BRING IT with the awkward, can’t I?

So there you have it. I lost my phone. Someone found my phone. Someone returned my phone. And I “rewarded” her with a book that’s written in a language that she more than likely has no interest in reading.

MAKING DREAMS COME TRUE, I AM.

I have to say, though, that I’ve learned some good lessons as a result of the Great iPhone Scare of 2013. I’ve been watching my phone a little more closely, holding it a little more tightly, updating my apps a little more frequently. I’m very thankful that we’re together again.

As a matter of fact, I think I’ll crush some candies right now. Just to celebrate, you understand.

It seems like the right thing to do.

Well, I haven’t been a very good blogger this week, but oh, I have me some reasons.

Four of ’em, actually.

1. Work. It has been lively. Lively in a good way, but lively nonetheless.

2. I am going to Arkansas tomorrow to speak at the AWBU conference. I am excited because I realized the other night that I haven’t been to Arkansas since I went to my cousin Amy’s wedding in Hot Springs when I was about 23. Arkansas, it has been too long.

3. I didn’t want to post on top of the last post because y’all’s comments have been a treasure and a delight and have caused me to clap my hands on occasion. Y’all are feisty. I like that in a person.

4. Well, maybe I just had three reasons. Can’t think of the fourth for the life of me.

So. Some other things.

– I was so tickled to read that that Harry Connick, Jr. is going to be a judge on American Idol next season. IT IS ABOUT TIME. He has always been great as a guest mentor on the show, and I can’t wait to watch him week after week. I get a kick out of south Louisiana folks under pretty much any circumstances, and I think a straight-shootin’ New Orleans boy is exactly what Idol needs. Well, that and a whole lot of talent.

– Several friends have released books in the last month or so, and I am woefully behind in sharing that info. One day next week I’m gonna write a post that’s All About All The Books.

(Hey! Look at that! I believe I just set a goal!)

(You might want to mark this momentous event in some sort of memory book.)

– It’s pumpkin spice latte’ time at Starbucks again, and I for one could not be more thrilled. Upwards of two of you might remember that last year I discovered a pumpkin spice latte’ option that forever changed my life: the two-pump grande PSL. It’s so flavorful but not nearly as syrup-y sweet the regular version, and while I don’t want to overstate it, it’s basically my favorite hot beverage in the history of all time ever. It’s so good, in fact, that I no longer have room for the peppermint mocha in my life. That’s a bold statement, I know, but I’m just speaking my personal coffee truth.

– Finally. Miss America 2014 is next Sunday night, and I am most definitely planning to do the whole bloggy viewing party thing. Certainly the 2013 pageant continues to hold a special place in my heart because, well, THREE TAP ROUTINES IN THE TOP TEN. However, after seeing pictures of Miss Alabama’s gown for next Saturday’s parade, I think it’s clear that the 2014 pageant has all sorts of promise.

source

Something tells me that she’s gonna say “Roll Tide” at some point during her introduction in the parade of contestants. Just a crazy hunch.

Happy Weekend, y’all.

So when I was growing up, there was a pretty standard exchange that would happen when Mama or Daddy would buy something. It went a little something like this.

1. Mama or Daddy would make their selections, ask questions if they had them, and then place whatever they were buying on the counter.
2. The cashier would ring up everything, then say, “That’ll be $9.42” – or whatever the amount happened to be.
3. Mama or Daddy would give the cashier some money.
4. The cashier would give them change and a receipt.
5. The cashier would say, “Thanks so much for your business – y’all come back soon.”
6. Mama or Daddy would say, “You’re welcome. We will.”
7. The end.

It was so simple. Seven steps. Sure, there were some exceptions every once in a while, but by and large, any trip to the store was a clean and orderly process. Easy breezy.

Well.

This past Saturday I went to a store where I shop a pretty good bit (enough that I know the cashiers and the cashiers know me). I needed a few hair care products and some make-up – plus I needed to pick up a prescription. Here’s what happened.

1. I grabbed a buggy and started walking down the make-up aisle.
2. I’d made it about three steps before someone said, “Ma’am, is there anything we can help you with today?”
3. “No – I think I’m good,” I answered. “Just need to pick up a few things on my list.” I waved my list and grinned.
4. “Well, if you don’t mind, when you check out, check out here in cosmetics. It helps us a lot if you do that.”
5. “Oh?” I replied.
6. “Yes ma’am. It really helps us if you’ll check out in cosmetics. So when you get ready, just look for me or the other lady who works in this area.”
7. “Okay – but I have to get a prescription…”
8. “That’s fine! We’ll be here to check you out after you get your prescription.”

Two minutes later.

9. “Ma’am? Are you ready to check out yet?”
10. “Nope – I still haven’t dropped off my prescription.”
11. “Well, be sure to find me or the other lady when you’re ready.”

Ten minutes later. Prescription filled.

12. “Ma’am? Can we help you check out in cosmetics?”
13. “Well, I’m still looking. Just headed over to look at the nail polish.”
14. “Okay – just find me when you get ready.”

Five minutes later, checking out at cosmetics because I’m a pleaser and I didn’t have the courage to go to the regular check-out at the front of the store because I had sort of agreed to check out in cosmetics and oh my word I am a noodle of a human being.

15. “Ma’am, do you have a discount card with us?”
16. “I do, but nothing I’m buying is on sale.”
17. “Well, fortunately I can still offer you a dollar off of all our Sally Hansen nail products today.”
18. “No, thank you.”
19. “Well, I’m going to put a free sample of this moisturizer in your bag. It really does wonders for fine lines, and after about three or four days of use it really resurfaces the skin and gets rid of all those problem areas.”
20. “No, thank you.”
21. “Well, how about a coupon for a discount on this product just in case you’d like to try it?”
22. “No, thank you.”
23. “I don’t know if you noticed up front, but we’re also featuring Buy One, Get One Half Off on some of our Revlon products right now.”
24. “No, thank you.”
25. “All righty. Your total is $36.17.”
26. [swipe debit card, press “not today” when asked if I’d like to donate to charity, then press “no” when asked if I’d like cash back, then finally accept purchase amount]
27. “We hope you’ll shop with us again soon.”
28. Me, in my head: “Oh, ma’am. I don’t think I have the strength.”
29. The end.

I recognize that it’s a tough economy and businesses are looking for new ways to make money – which means that they’re coming up with all sorts of customer programs and discount cards and baskets of candy at the cash register and whatnot. But I would love it – LOVE IT – if I could make it through most purchases without someone asking me if I’d like to sign up for a credit card or receive three free magazines or purchase the deal of the day or join their exclusive member club for the low cost of $20 a year.

Maybe I’m just getting old and crochety. And these are some first world issues, I know (I am so mindful of that, in fact, that I almost didn’t write this post. I totally get that in the grand scheme of life, my frustration with retail selling practices is hardly a blip on the radar of inconvenience). But it just occurred to me over the weekend that I’m increasingly willing to go out of my way to shop at local stores with no discount programs, no up sells, and no incentives at the register – because I find more and more that those stores offer excellent customer service and consistently thank me for my business. Those are little things, I know. But I’m so tired of feeling like my day-to-day purchases just aren’t cutting it unless I earn enough points for the gold level or spin a wheel three times so that I can buy Kleenex for a dollar a box or return to the store in four days with my bonus bucks that will save me upwards of two dollars on something that I don’t even need.

Is it just me? Or does anybody else feel like the up sells / hard sells are a little out of control? I know that it’s not the cashiers’ fault – they’re only doing what their managers ask – but I want to tell those managers (and their managers’ managers, and their managers’ managers) that I’d be a lot more loyal with my business if I weren’t so stinkin’ tired of the fact that when I try to give them my money, it doesn’t seem like that’s enough for them.

And I just needed to vent about that a little bit.

Hope y’all have a lovely Tuesday. And I hope somebody thanks you for your business today. Because that’s a kind and lovely thing for stores to do.

Love,
Old & Crochety in Alabama
(who doesn’t want another discount card for the rest of her whole life ever)

I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes trying to figure out how to write this post.

Because it’s about Ann Voskamp. And her gorgeous new book. And I don’t know if y’all know this, but Ann is sort of a brilliant writer. So any attempt on my part to try to do justice to her thoughtful, tender, insightful words feels like it falls woefully short. I mean, I’m a person who uses A LOT OF CAPITAL LETTERS and is admittedly overly dependent on parentheses.

(But that Ann, on the other hand.)

(I tell you what.)

(She’s a poet.)

So I’ll just tell you a story.

A couple of years ago I went on a Compassion Bloggers’ trip to Ecuador – along with Ann, her husband, Kelly, Melanie, and Amanda. On the fourth day of our trip, we woke up early one morning, hopped on a bus, and set out on an almost six-hour trek to the Amazon jungle. It was hot, the traffic was horrible, and the roads spiraled this way and that way and sometimes felt like they circled back to right where we’d started. Most of us were popping Dramamine tablets like they were cough drops, and it only took about 20 minutes before Melanie proved that she had some serious skills when it came to snatching a plastic grocery bag from our friend Keely at the exact moment when she realized that THE SICKNESS, IT IS INEVITABLE.

Once the roads started to straighten out a little bit and the motion sickness started to release its WHITE-HOT GRIP, everybody started to visit. Well, Melanie wasn’t doing much visiting because she was still trying to convince her stomach to cooperate, but the rest of us were talking about whatever came to mind. Kelly and I were deep in a discussion about college football when our attention turned to snack foods in Ecuador, and as we rifled through the snack bag on the bus, here is what I remember about our conversation.

Me: “This chip says that it has MORE cheese, but I think it tastes more like corn.”

Kelly: “I think it’s kinda good, though.”

Me: “I think I’ll try this one – it looks sort of like cheese puffs.”

(minutes later)

Me: “Well, at first it’s like Cheetos, but then it sort of tastes like Fruit Loops.”

Kelly: “Fruit Loops? It tastes like cereal?”

Me: “Yes. First you taste cheese. Then you most definitely taste strawberry.”

So what I’m telling you is that Kelly and I were a wee bit obsessed with the snack foods and our personal taste tests. But somewhere in the middle of our in-depth analysis, I tuned in to a conversation that Ann was having in the seat behind me. And in that deep, melodic voice of hers, she was discussing the beauty of the book of Colossians with Shaun, who was sitting a row or two behind her.

So, to sum up:

Kelly & Sophie – snack foods
Ann & Shaun – the doctrine of justification

PRACTICALLY THE SAME THING.

I always think about that day on the bus when I marvel at Ann’s ability to focus on what matters most. She’s a deep thinker, a gifted writer, and, for so many of us, a trusted, treasured voice of encouragement and wisdom who makes us want to love Jesus more. That’s why I’m thrilled about her new book – which was released today – called The Greatest Gift: Unwrapping the Full Love Story of Christmas.

Here’s a little peek:

This, this, is the love story that’s been coming for you since the beginning.

It is possible for you to miss it.

To brush past it, to rush through it, to not see how it comes for you up over the edges of everything, quiet and unassuming and miraculous—how every page of the word has been writing it, reaching for you, coming for you. And you could wake on Christmas only to grasp that you never took the whole of the Gift, the wide expanse of grace. So now we pause. Still. ponder. hush. wait. Each day of advent, he gives you the gift of time, so you have time to be still and wait.

Wait for the coming of the God in the manger who makes Himself bread for us near starved.

For the Savior in swaddlings who makes Himself the robe of righteousness for us worn out.

For Jesus, who makes precisely what none of us can but all of us want: Christmas.

Sometimes the heart waiting for the Gift . . . is the art of the Gift.

This waiting, your art—mark it.

Mark advent with a counting, a way of staying awake and not missing.

It could happen like the numbering of time, like the rings on a tree.

Like a leaning over that Jesse Tree of the old Testament, that Jesse Tree axed down, and counting rings down to the greatest Gift, to life out of the dream cut off.

That Jesse Tree, named after Jesse, who was the father of David—David to whom God promised that his line and his sons and his family would reign forever without end.

And when David’s sons and grandsons and great- grandsons turned from God and loved the gifts and the flesh more than the Giver and the Father—their kingdoms fell. Their homes fell apart.

It looked as if the whole family tree of Jesse had been chopped right off at the roots. But God . . .

It probably goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: you and your family will be blessed by this book. It has 25 different devotions for the Advent season, and each day has its own ornament. In the absolute sweetest, most edifying way, it’s the stuff that Christmas traditions are made of. You can buy it here on Amazon or here at Barnes & Noble.

Enjoy, y’all.