In which I over-spiritualize gardening

Ever since I started gardening, I have become obsessed with the weather, especially since I started a few plants a little early in the season. The gardening forecast is now my browser’s homepage and I check it faithfully to know when to cover my plants with the frost shield or give them extra water.

I am determined not to kill everything this time. Mostly because Jack was skeptical about my ability to keep anything alive that can’t bark at me when it’s hungry.

(So far, no barking vegetables, but I will keep you posted if anything new develops on that front.)

The fastest way to get me to commit to something is for anybody that I happen to be married to to say “Are you reeeeaaallllyyyy sure you can do this?” with that “remember all those times you screwed this up before and you KNOW this is a big investment right?” tone, because then I get all “Of COURSE I can do this! What, you think because I’m a girl I can’t use a drill or understand soil pH or farm the land as my ancestors did? I’LL SHOW YOU, BUDDY!”

(I’m pretty sure that my parents gifted me a sometimes delusional level of confidence in their effort to instill self-esteem because I AM FARMER, HEAR ME ROAR!!)

Anyway, I have been paying attention. Caring and covering and babying and fertilizing and watering and backing-off-on-the-watering-because-woah-I-was-watering-too-much and pruning in an effort to prove the boy who is always right, wrong.

Most of all, I have been learning. Reading books and Googling and asking questions, and a lot of times, just observing. It’s my first year vegetable gardening, so I’m taking in information. And something I have been paying attention to lately is stress.

One of the things my mom and I learned at a garden show (oh yes, I went to a garden show) was to ruffle tomato plants a little every so often, and that will make them grow stronger in the long run. I have also noticed that the hot-then-cool-then-warm-then-cold weird Texas spring weather has had a generally positive affect on the growth of my plants.

Every time life has thrown something hard at these baby veggies, I have worried that they may not be able to take it.

But they have. And they have grown stronger for it. The tomatoes I ruffle are developing thick vines and beginning to fruit. The kale I chop off every so often to snack on comes back bigger and fuller each time. The basil that withstood a very chilly night last night… Well, that one is not a great example.

It makes me think of life, and the hard things we have to deal with. I’m not a big fan of the idea that “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle,” because to be honest, I don’t feel like I can handle much on my own, and I don’t believe all the difficult things come from God. That just because he uses heartache for His glory means he caused the heartache in the first place. No, I don’t buy that at all.

But I am definitely learning that God doesn’t give me more than HE can handle and that He’s going to grow me through it.

Sometimes He ruffles my leaves or prunes my branches to make me grow stronger in the long run. Sometimes He allows a strong wind to sway me a little because He knows can stand up to it. And sometimes he covers me when the temperature drops too low for me to handle on my own.

Stress is hard. It’s, well, stressful. But my little vegetables are a good reminder to consider it pure joy, and to rejoice in weakness.

After all, we have a Master Gardener taking care of us.

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Back to boring and thank God for that

If you follow me on Instagram, you know I’ve started gardening.

And also probably what I had for lunch yesterday.

But anyway, I read this book on Square Foot Gardening, and talked to about a thousand friends near and far about all the ways I could and would screw it up, and then I bought wood and screws and five types of compost and a bunch of other stuff, and I built this. All by myself.

 

Jack didn’t help me build it either. Not even a little. That’s what I meant by “all by myself,” for the record. Not because he didn’t know how, because he is ALL THAT IS MAN, etc, etc… But still, I built it myself.

And okay, there may have been an unfortunate incident with a Skil saw during which I may or may not nearly cut an arm off to which Jack replied “THAT’S WHY I TOLD YOU YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO USE THE SAW!” and I replied “WELL IT’S NOT LIKE YOU WERE OFFERING TO HELP ME,” and truly the all-caps conversations do not happen often in the Hornbuckle house but it seems that when the wife’s limbs are at stake, the husband gets a little snippy. My buddy Candy calls that “intense fellowship.”

I blame him, by the way. For the Skil saw thing. Because yeah, he may not have been there, and yeah, it was definitely me who held the thing backwards with my pinky on the trigger, causing it to shoot violently backward toward me instead of glide steadily over the wood, but see, I am not allowed to use the saw! And have therefore never been taught how to properly use the saw!

Like I said, his fault, obviously. Otherwise I’d be a female Bob Vila by now.

But then I made the mistake of asking permission to put the lattice up so my tomatoes could grow up it and he got his dad involved, and then his dad built me this amazing frame for the lattice that is way better than I would have ever made and HOW DARE HE, ANYWAY?

 

(I love everything about it. My father-in-law is a rock star.)

So, now I grow things. And harvest them. And eat them for dinner sometimes. It’s a beautiful, rewarding thing.

I’ve also been working on the front yard, clearing out all the dead leaves and very-alive weeds, and the other day I had the back of Jack’s truck filled with compost (is there anything better than fresh compost and also who am I?) and topdressed the front beds and one side of our yard that has a hard time growing.

I WORKED UNTIL MY SHOES BROKE. See also: I am very sore.

So, that’s the boring, boring news, I guess. But after the last few weeks of WAY too not-boring news from West and Boston, I’m pretty thankful that I only have the boring stuff in my life.

Especially when it looks this.

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Church-ertainment

I heard an individual say something today that I have been hearing for a while. He was talking about the church, and how the “new generation of Christians” were more interested in entertainment than worship, that contemporary music in church is simply a show, that sermons were less deep, theological expository teaching and more simplistic psychological “life lessons.”

In my industry (full-time ministry), it’s hard not to end up getting a little beat up for being young (kids these days! Rarr!), and a little jaded from making the Christian magic yourself. For a long time (and even still, sometimes), I just didn’t feel like going to church. I did “church” all week! I CREATED “church” all week! I am not interested in MORE CHURCH!

And so, I get the whole “UGH. Churches who do a big show! The nerve!” thing. I get it. We moved to a smaller church last year because of that very reason. We couldn’t handle the glitter anymore. We wanted solid Biblical teaching and terrible, terrible music. No gimmicks. It works for us.

But the thing is, we used to go to that church. The one with the show. While I was in college and Jack was on his own, he found this place where he understood the message, where he felt welcome, where he could learn and grow and worship just as he was. Yes, the teaching was shallow at times, and oh yeah, there were videos and electric guitars and drum-sets and dramatic lighting. From the outside looking in, you might think it was all about entertainment.

But Jack flourished there. It was where he was meant to be during that time. He found friends who helped him grow and learn, and he formed a foundation for himself with, yeah, that “shallow” teaching.

I feel like we need to be less concerned with the way other churches are doing their thing, the way other Christians are doing their thing, and understand that what looks like a rock concert to you might be a worshipful experience for someone else. What looks like shallow teaching for you might be providing someone who didn’t grow up in the church a basic understanding of Biblical principles. What seems like a gimmick to coerce an emotional response out of an audience to you might actually be the tool God uses to make a connection with someone.

Are you checking to see whether their teaching is Biblical? Fantastic. That’s definitely something we should be accountable for. Outside of that, what hymns they sing, or if they sing hymns at all; the videos they put on the screen; the trinkets they hand out; how many colors and graphics are on their bulletins – as long as it’s Christ-centered, really shouldn’t be a problem for you.

I’m in the “if you don’t like a blogger, simply stop reading their writing – you don’t need to make a fuss about it” camp, and I think the same principle applies to churches.

We are not all the same. Why should our churches be?

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Hardship

Shane: I found money last night. It was hiding in a mutual fund. And now it’s making me crazy because I can almost afford a car.

Me: Wow.

Shane: But I don’t need a car. That’s the problem.

Me: Yeah, that’s not really a problem.

Shane: I just want one that I can say “Play ‘You Belong With Me’” and it does it without judging me.

Me: I think it’ll still judge you.

Shane: Not like when I tell Cassandra to play that song.

Me: Bahaha

Shane: So now I’m like “Do I get a brand new Civic now, or wait until after Cassandra gets her bonus in four months and get an Accord” MENTAL STRESS!

Me: Now you know true suffering.

Shane: I know.

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On the first day of Christmas, my small dog gave to me…

A puddle in the bed, yep, pee.

Merry Christmas Eve to us.

Apparently the dog has some issues with storms and anxiety and too many people in our house and too much stimulation and INSANITY IN GENERAL.

Good thing Jack gave me regular maid service (not a-milking, as far as I know, though I support their right to a-milking, yep, even in public) for Christmas. Via an adorably homemade “gift card.”

Oh, the cute. Also? I AM SO EXCITED.

Is it okay to hug cleaning ladies when they come over? Maybe, like, a small kiss on the mouth? I just want to know the protocol before they arrive. I don’t want to make them feel awkward or anything.

In other, more beautiful news, it snowed in Texas. On Christmas. IT WAS MAGICAL.

Snooooowwwwwwww!!!!

(Also, that’s what Jack calls out every time he throws wadded-up receipts onto the floor when he’s doing the finances. It’s both adorable and enraging.)

The actual snow was a little prettier.

Our poor cleaning ladies.

(Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to them in spooning time.)

Anyway, it was not quite our first white Christmas (though our last was a little lame), but it was the first white Christmas for Jack’s pretty new friend:

So, yeah. This week we bought a truck. Jack has been saving for a while now and they had some good incentives before Christmas, so he finally got a real live big-boy truck. With a backseat and power locks and everything. Woot woot.

Jack keeps telling people that I got him a truck for Christmas. Which is hilarious, because I work for a nonprofit. That’s like, a company that doesn’t make a profit. And also, I couldn’t get them to give me the big bow so it doesn’t count.

So, it was a pretty good Christmas for all of us. You know, minus the urine on the bed thing.

Jack also got me a breadmaker so the next time you see me I’ll probably be 800 pounds.

Worth it.

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He’s lucky I don’t know anybody with a farm

He may look cute, but he is pure evil. He and Maggie are all “Fox and Hound”-y together though.

My parents’ dog Filbert is staying with us while they’re out of town. On the days I’m working from home, his ideal location is here:

So he does this All. Day. Long:

It’s even cuter at 3:30 in the morning.

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DIY Monogrammed Tumblers – A crafty (and cheap) gift!

I try to get a little something for the people I work with every year. The problem is, when you have 10 people in your group (or less and less and less than that due to layoffs – thanks, economy!), it can get a little spendy. So, I try to do something crafty (read: cheap!) so I don’t go way over budget. This year, I did this!

Oh yes, it’s a pinnable image. I’m a super-professional now.

I am kind of obsessed with these double-walled (BPA-free!) plastic cups with straws. You can ask Jack – every time I see one in a store I go all “I MUST HAVE IT NOW!” on him. Even though I have a bunch of them at home already. What can I say? I like to stay hydrated I guess.

So this year, I decided that I’d get those for my co-workers, personalize them with a monogram decal, and fill them with goodies. Easy!

What I used:

  • I got this 12-pack of BPA-free, double-walled tumblers from Amazon. (It’s all about double-walled. Friends don’t let friends need coasters.) You can obviously order smaller quantities but you won’t get as good of a price because the shipping cost is stupid expensive on the individual ones. I have a few leftover and that’s fine by me (have I mentioned my tumbler obsession?)

  • The monogram decals on the front of the cups are from here. (I got the 2.25″ cell phone sticker in “etched” color and “vine” font.) They’re super-easy to put on (took me about 5 minutes to do all of them), and they say they’re dishwasher safe. Time will tell on that one, I guess. Technically you’re supposed to hand-wash the tumblers themselves, but I’m not going to lie, that is not going to happen in my house.

  • And the cookies are a modified version of this recipe (I substituted mint chocolate for half of the chocolate chips), but I assure you, mine are not as good as the original. For this purpose, you will have to make them unnaturally small – I put 16 to a sheet. It went against every one of my instincts. My buddy Candy made these for her co-workers too and filled them with homemade spiced pecans. Whatever you want to put inside them works just fine!

And that’s all it took! I ended up spending about $6 each plus whatever the cookies and ribbon and whatnot cost me (I had all of that on hand). I’m a big fan of that price.

Unrelated: I may have gone a little ribbon-crazy and also decorated the dogs.

Tis the season!

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Twas the night before I found something better to do

Twas the night before Tuesday when I sat down to blog.
It’s been quite a long time; I’ve been in a fog.
My readers think “great, more derivative work.
Can’t Mandy write new things? She’s such a big jerk.”

But alas, here I am, somehow typing in rhyme.
I had a day off, probably too much free time.
I cooked and ran errands, made the house oh-so-clean,
“Your in-laws are coming!” from Jack I did glean.

People keep asking “what’s your holiday plan?”
And I tell them “not much; staying home with the fam.”
They all come on over; I like having guests.
Most of the time, I mean, if they don’t leave a mess.

But they’re pretty low-maintenance – they even pitch in!
Jack’s dad is a genius, perhaps to his chagrin.
He built our front counter, and our wood cubbies too,
I don’t understand it, those nails and that glue.

So Jack has a list, and he did check it twice,
of the things Dads can help with, since they both are so nice.
And our moms help me cook that big Christmas meal,
while Jack probably whines, how the food is too real.

You might be thinking “is there a point to this piece?
she’s rambling on; I wish it would cease.”
And no, I don’t have a reason for this rhyming mess
I’ve wasted your time, I’m sorry to confess.

Unless you wanted to hear how our Christmas will go
And now that you’ve read this, I guess that you know.
Guests are a-coming from all over the state
And hopefully won’t ask us when we’ll procreate.

Best wishes to you, on this Monday night.
Hope your plans are merry, and don’t cause you fright.
And if you’re sitting at work now, through your reader you leaf,
I say “Merry Christmas to you, you time-stealing thief.’

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Don’t give him any ideas

Last weekend, we went to the home of some lovely friends for dinner. They have two boys, ages 9-ish and 12-ish, I think? Maybe? I’m terrible with kids’ ages. They’re old enough to dress themselves and not old enough to pay rent.

Anyway, the younger boy, Lucas, who is an absolute hoot (yep, HOOT, because I am OLD now), was telling us all about the girls at school. Jack was teasing him about having to keep the girls away now that he had a new haircut (or something).

“Oh yeah, I have to fight them off,” Lucas beamed, confidently. “But I keep the pretty ones around.”

“That’s a really good plan,” said Jack glancing at me. “I did the same thing.”

(Cue: Awwwwwwwwwwww. Okay. That’s enough of that.)

“Yeah, I’ve got to make sure I keep my options open,” Lucas continued, “because someday I’m going to have to pick a wife, and she’s going to do everything I tell her to, or I’m going to TACKLE HER.”

From then on, he’s been threatening to tackle me every time I tell him no.

As if I needed more motivation to tell him no.

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