I don’t know if it was the steamed shrimp or too much sun or an excess amount of chlorine, but last night I had the weirdest assortment of dreams I can ever recall. They ran the gamut, including but not limited to:

– a denominational debate with my cousin Benji
– winning a free meal from a restaurant in Hattiesburg, MS that also sold iPods and iPod accessories
– watching my Aunt C teach swimming to pre-schoolers at an indoor lap pool
– researching the original meaning of my cousin’s girlfriend’s name (only her name was “Gina” in my dream, which isn’t her real name at all)
– getting my dorm room ready for school (HELLO, 18 again)

So needless to say I was worn slap out when I got out of bed this morning.

We’re heading home in a couple of days, and we’ll hit the ground running in terms of getting back into the school time swing of things. Last night I made a long to-do list that made me want to cry a little bit, but we’ll get ‘er done. At least we can rest in the peace of knowing that we’ve had a great time relaxing this week with our family.

We can also rest in the peace of knowing that we’ve reached some unanticipated new snack food heights. We’ve gone from this –

to this –

over the course of just a precious few days.

It’s a memory that will sustain us in the days and weeks to come.

Amen.

Summer 2010 has been very, very good so far. We have discovered some new and exciting treasures that will no doubt change our lives forever. Or at the very least they will change our lives until mid- to late-August. So we certainly cannot complain.

By the way – my standard disclosure – I’m not mentioning these things because anybody paid me / bribed me / begged me / offered me free fried chicken for life. I will not profit if you buy these items. I am simply one of those annoying people who wants EVERYONE IN MY IMMEDIATE PHYSICAL AND/OR VIRTUAL VICINITY to experience the same unexpected product-related joys that I do. And yes, I realize that saying that probably reveals some degree of moderately-unhealthy codependence on my part, but I really don’t think I’m that codependent except for the fact that I REALLY LIKE THINGS BETTER WHEN YOU LIKE THEM, TOO.

I might benefit from some counseling.

1. Sabra Spinach & Artichoke Hummus

WHY HAS NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT THIS?

I’ve been a fan of the Sabra hummus for a few years, but I had no idea that they’d ventured into spinach and artichoke territory. I saw this new variety in Costco yesterday and practically threw it in the cart. I was just beside myself with excitement. And it did not disappoint. We had a friend staying with us last night, and her presence was the only thing that kept me from embarrassing myself with this hummus. I think the Lord sent her to our house as a shield of protection against any potential hummus-related gluttony.

It’s so good. And it probably goes without saying that it should be eaten with these.

Like you didn’t already know that.

2. Ben Rector’s “Into The Morning” – Every once in awhile I run across a CD with such unassuming brilliance that it just grabs me by the heart and won’t let go. This CD did that. Does that. Is doing that. Presently. Even now, as I type this.

He’s 23 years old. And scary talented. Can’t wait to see what might be in store for him down the road.

3. Colgate Pro Clinical Daily Whitening Toothpaste

Look. They say it has some sort of special crystals that make it so effective. For all I know there are elves inside who are working their little elfin fingers to the bone to make people’s teeth whiter. But as someone who has never been able to use a whitening toothpaste because I have hyper-sensitive skin that tends to get all red and bumpy when I use a toothpaste with all sorts of tricky additives, I am TICKLED to have found this one. It’s good stuff.

4. Andrew Peterson’s “Dancing In The Minefields” – It’s one of my favorite songs ever about marriage. I mean, just listen to these lyrics. And swoon. Swoon verily, I say unto you.

5. The Sharpie Pen

Every once in awhile I sort of frighten myself with my office supply-related enthusiasm.

Case in point: the new Sharpie pen. THIS IS EPIC, Y’ALL.

I have searched long and hard for the perfect pen since I first discovered the Pilot V5 back in the early 90s. Over time my grip has changed, and the V5 is no longer suitable for my day-to-day pen-related tasks. I’ve been using Sharpie extra fine markers for the last three or four years, but they do bleed through paper, and you really just have to love them because, well, you love them.

But this new Sharpie pen? It’s a game-changer.

Please don’t make fun of me.

I just have very specific pen-related needs. And when you find the right pen – well, you just know. You just know that you know that you know. And I think the Sharpie pen and I are going to have a very long, very happy life together.

I couldn’t be more thrilled.

After spending a few (very fun) days in Memphis with my brother, sister-in-law and nephews, the little man and I packed up Thursday morning and drove over to Jackson, Tennessee to see our friends the Cottrells. We initially thought that we would hang out for a little bit at their house and then head home later in the day, but of course that didn’t happen because, well, we talk too much. So we decided to stick around for supper, spend the night, and then drive home early Friday morning. It was a perfectly delightful plan.

After supper we went back to the house, put on pajamas, and settled in for some visitin’. I don’t remember where we were in our conversation – somewhere between the meanings of people’s names and who is currently kicking our tails at Words With Friends – but at one point I realized that I’d forgotten to get something out of the car, so I ran back to the bedroom, grabbed my keys and clicked the “unlock” button as I walked toward the front door. I turned on the porch light because it was pitch-black outside, and I silently commended myself for not trying to make my way to my car in the dark.

The whole “turning on the light” thing might not seem like a big deal to most of you, but as someone who has never met an object she couldn’t trip over or smash into, I am keenly aware of the importance of well-lit surroundings. I can’t even tell you how many literal and figurative obstacles have been strewn along the path to grace and poise in my life. There was that hole in the hook rug that interfered with my back somersault when I was five. There was that uncooperative gymnastics mat during my early-80s quest for a front handspring. There was the complete absence of upper-body strength that resulted in my 16 year-old self falling into a pond after a misguided attempt at conquering a rope swing. There were the tricky wedge sandals – coupled with an overactive yellow lab – that sent me flailing down the basement stairs back in 2001.

And in The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand Ten? There was the Cottrells’ front porch.

Honestly, I thought I was doing pretty well as I made my way out to the car this past Thursday night, but in a completely unexpected turn of events, the edge of my right flip-flop got caught on a little lip at the top of the steps, and I tripped. As you may or may not know from personal experience, if you trip at the top of a staircase, there is a very good chance indeed that you are going to fall down that staircase. And that is exactly what I proceeded to do – in what felt like slow motion – until I finally, at long and merciful last, came to very awkward stop at the bottom of the stairs. I landed on my right arm, but thanks to my left big toe – which managed to scrape its way down every single step, thus making a mockery of my OPI Parlevouz polish – I sort of skidded into my landing (which was certainly preferable to crashing into the ground after being airborn for five seconds). Granted, I was COMPLETELY MORTIFIED by my clumsiness, but I wasn’t really any worse for the wear – except for a ruined pedicure, some sah-weet pavement scrapes on my right forearm, and a very attractive gravel imprint underneath my right eye.

After I composed myself enough to stand up, I very carefully walked back inside and found a mirror so that I could see whether or not I looked like I’d been in a prizefight. About that time Travis walked back through the living room – he and Angela had been putting the kids to bed – and I guess I looked a little rattled because he stopped and tilted his head like he was wondering what was going on with me. So I said, “I fell down your front steps,” and he said, “You what?” and I said, “I was going to the car, and I fell down your steps,” and he said, “Are you okay?” and I said, “Yes, I think so, except for these scratches on my arm and my face – and the fact that the polish got scraped off my toes” and then he said, “Oh, I am so sorry!” and he tried to look very concerned as he said, “How did that happen, exactly?” and when I started to tell him we got very tickled and for the next five minutes we laughed until we could neither talk nor breathe.

Good times. Precious memories.

The next morning I was almost good as new, and after breakfast Alex and I got ready to go home. Travis wanted us to follow him to a donut shop that has what he vows and declares are the best cake donuts in the universe so that we could buy some for D. I thought it was a great idea, mainly because D was super-busy with work last week, not to mention that he is a deeply devoted fan of the cake donut and always on the look-out for excellence in the cake donut field. I totally get it because I have many of the same feelings for fried chicken.

So I zipped up the suitcase, gave Angela a hug, and when I got to the foyer Travis said, “Hey, I’ll get that” and grabbed my suitcase while he opened the front door. We were joking about the need to be abundantly and exceedingly careful given my acrobatic descent down the stairs the night before, and then I stepped onto the porch, misjudged the distance, and the next thing I knew I heard a really loud pop and felt all the blood drain from my face.

Oh yes I did.

Somehow I managed to not cry and stay calm and say, “Um, I just did something really, really, REALLY bad to my ankle, I’m not even kidding, I just really hurt my ankle, I need to sit down right now.” So I sat down and Travis called for Angela and I kept thinking about that popping sound and decided that I had never been more nauseated in my life. Travis was asking me four or nineteen questions about what they could do to help and all I could think was that he wouldn’t be quite so eager to help if he knew that I was seriously about to throw up all over his shoes.

Angela came to the rescue with a big bag of ice, and that ice is what filled me with resolve that I might be able to stand up and maybe even walk out of the Cottrells’ foyer at some point before Alex graduated from high school. After about ten minutes I discovered that I could still move my ankle, and once I stood up, I hobbled back to the bedroom so that I could rest for a little while (per Angela’s orders) and hopefully determine that I was dealing with a sprain and not a broken foot.

In the midst of all the craziness, I couldn’t help but be a teensy bit entertained by the way Angela and Travis responded. Angela was, as always, level, calm, prayerful and practical. She offered sound advice. She brought me a towel in case the ice pack got too cold against my skin. The sound of her voice made me feel like everything was going to be okay.

Travis, on the other hand, was a little more rattled by the whole ordeal. He apologized ninety-four times, never you mind that IT WASN’T EVEN REMOTELY HIS FAULT. He asked me how I was feeling every one to three and a half minutes. He sang “Froggie Went A-Courtin'” in an effort to lighten the mood. And at some point he apparently called the donut shop, because I have a very vivid memory of him walking toward me and saying, “Really, I don’t want you to worry about the fact that we didn’t make it to the donut shop, because I just called them and they don’t even have any of the cake donuts today.”

PERFECT. Because do you know what was just bothering me to no end in light of my ever-swelling ankle? THE CAKE DONUTS.

Oh, bless him.

I ended up falling asleep for an hour or so, and the nausea was gone for the most part when I woke up. Since I had pretty good back and forth movement in my ankle, I decided that it made sense to go ahead and drive home before the swelling got worse. We had a mercifully uneventful trip home, and once I got in the house and elevated my foot and surveyed the damage for the first time in a few hours, I felt a little queasy again.

Clearly it was healing just beautifully.

But now? It’s so much better. I’ve had my foot propped up for the better part of three days, and I think I’m on the road to recovery.

Thankfully the road to recovery – at least so far – seems to be free of any stairs and/or steps.

My ankles and I are understandably grateful.

The little man and I are spending a few days in Memphis so that he can hang out with his cousins and I can try new and exciting cream cheese-related recipes with my sister-in-law. That’s what you call a win-win.

Monday night Janie and I were tickled that we were going to get to watch The Bachelorette together, and after the kids had eaten supper and headed back upstairs to play, we settled in for The Most Dramatic Two-Hour Extravaganza of Amazing Connections Ever. However, for reasons I have yet to understand, my brother decided to sit down and watch the show with us, and let me just say with some degree of certainty that NOTHING CAN WRECK YOUR BACHELORETTE VIEWING LIKE A MAN WITH SOME QUESTIONS.

Oh sweet mercy.

Because if you’re going to ask me to logically explain and lo, even defend the actions of the people on The Bachelorette, I have some news for you:

THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE.

You just have to roll with the reality television punches. Employ the willing suspension of disbelief. Realize that LOGIC HAS NO PLACE IN THE BACHELORETTE PROCEEDINGS.

And besides, in the end Ali wound up with the best two guys, though clearly – CLEARLY – Chris L. is the one she should pick. Because his family? And that bracelet? And the laughing? And the sincerity? And the absence of smooth talking and fancy words? He just seems like real life to me.

Anyway.

Yesterday we went to eat lunch at Corky’s (I’m convinced that God makes their barbecue sauce) and then took the kids to see a movie. Now, I typically try to talk about stuff that I like way more than stuff that I dislike, but I feel like it’s in the interest of public service for me to say that if you’re thinking of going to see a movie that rhymes with The Past Bearsender? You might want to re-think that decision.

Because IN MY OPINION, it was terrible. It was endless. And even my eternally optimistic child walked out of the theatre and said, “THAT WAS THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW!” And then he repeated himself about fourteen times. So needless to say, we will not be purchasing and/or renting the DVD for a second viewing. But the good news is that I didn’t understand even 5% of what we saw, so odds are the plot won’t be hanging out in my brain for very long. And there were some sah-weet kah-rah-tay moves to imitate, so that was totally worth the ticket price.

We’re heading home tomorrow, so we’re about to embark on our final Afternoon-O-Fun with the cousins. I’m not exactly sure what we’re going to do, but you may rest assured that it will not involve The Past Bearsender.

However, a little bit more of God’s barbecue sauce is a very distinct possibility.

It’s probably not a big surprise that D and I don’t go out a whole lot. Both of us are total homebodies, not to mention that you can’t stick to the very demanding reality television schedule that I keep and have a busy social life, too.

Life is filled with difficult choices. And I seem to choose Bravo a lot.

OH, I kind of kid.

Anyway, a couple of months ago, when we found out that The Dave Barnes was bringing his comedy show to Birmingham, the husband made it known that it was VERY IMPORTANT to him that we attend. And I should probably point out that I just typed the word “bringing” as “brining,” and it made me laugh because I would think that comedy, like poultry, gets a good bit more tender and palatable once brined. It only stands to reason.

Now it is no secret that we love Dave Barnes’ music in our house. But his comedy stylings hold a special place in our hearts, too, mainly because of this. And this. And the time we went to his comedy show in Nashville with some dear friends and laughed until we felt like we’d been injured.

So.

I marked this past weekend’s show on the calendar, bought a couple of tickets to ye olde comedy extravaganza, lined up a babysitter and EVEN PUT ON EYELINER for our night on the town. We were extra excited about the night because we knew that Dave was bringing (BRINING) a couple of musicians with him to open the show, and Dave’s opening acts have never let us down (needtobreathe and Gabe Dixon Band, anyone?).

Well.

The two guys who opened were Steve Moakler and Ben Rector, and I am here to tell you that they are OH-SO-TALENTED. They don’t normally perform together, but on this particular night they took turns singing back-up for each other, and my goodness it made my heart happy. They’re just delightful. And I thought I would share a couple of video snippets of their music, but I forgot to ask for their permission, and since I don’t want to find myself in the midst of a copyright snafu, I’ll just link to their iTunes for the time being, amen.

Here’s a link to Steve’s excellent music.

Here’s a link to Ben’s excellent music.

Finally, in the interest of full disclosure: nobody asked me or paid me to blog about the show. I just love great music. These two guys are the real deal.

As is Mr. Barnes, of course.

Because for the record, Mr. Barnes’ comedy show was exceedingly and abundantly hilarious. Once again we laughed until we felt like we’d been injured. Or maybe even brined.

It was one of my favorite nights of 2010.

What did y’all do fun this past weekend?

Every once in awhile I just need to purge my brain of a bunch of unrelated information. It helps me control the crazy.

So, that being said, I apologize in advance for the disconnected randomness that’s about to happen.

It might be best to just nod your head and pretend like it all makes sense.

– TJ Maxx has really stepped it up with their selection of lamps.

– In the last few episodes of “The Hills,” Justin Bobby’s hair looked like Prince during the “When Doves Cry” era.

– Zaxby’s chocolate milkshakes are delicious.

– I think these kelly green shoes are adorable. But I wonder if I could ever incorporate them into my daily fashion routine.

Thoughts?

– The CMT Crossroads with John Mayer and Keith Urban is Music Happytown, and everybody needs to visit. I LOVE IT.

– Football season starts in six weeks. This is excellent news.

– I read an interview with Simon Cowell the other day. He said that he wouldn’t be surprised if Harry Connick, Jr. is the new judge on American Idol next year. DO WE DARE TO DREAM?

– David Crowder Band’s “Oh, Happiness” has become our theme song for the summer.

– I haven’t seen any of the Twilight movies. And I’m one of seven people currently residing in the US who still hasn’t seen The Blind Side. So I’m pretty sure that I’ll be asked to leave the country soon.

– Last night, right after I started putting the bedroom back together again, Alex told me that he was proud of me for finishing with painting. Then he said, “You know, Mama, I’m SO proud of you that I think I may have to cook you breakfast in the morning.”

And then: “But Mama? I don’t really know how that would work out since I can’t cook.”

Bless him.