Happy Easter!

Who's my daddy?

Look at these curls.



I think it is pretty evident that the Cuddler is lying when she says Morning Guy is my daddy. I've come up with a few guesses of my own...







What do you think?

SWOOSH...

Well, that's that. In one brief moment, my grandparents house is gone.



Their things are strewn from hell to breakfast.



Amazingly, my Mammaw is fine. Her eyes are black because debris broken her nose, she is black and blue all over and she has stitched up cuts on her finger and eye brow. She heard a "swoosh" and got in the hallway closet. A nice man and his son were driving through the neighborhood and dug her out. You can read all about it here at Clarionledger.com. It was front page news today.



What you can't read about in the newspaper is that the bedroom in the front corner of their house (the one highest in the air now) was known as the boys' room. It was the boys' room because when my grandparents moved into this house 40 plus years ago with their two sons and two daughters, the girls got first choice on the bedrooms. They did not pick that room. This has always baffled me because the boys' room was twice as big as the girls' room. See, my daddy "persuaded" my aunts that they should pick the smaller bedroom because it had floral wallpaper in the closet. That's right, they picked the small room because of the wallpaper in the closet. No, they are not as dumb as this story makes them sound.

Anyway, I always slept in the boys room. My family is very food oriented. Every morning my Mammaw would wake me up with fresh waffles and homemade syrup. It was a perk.

I was sleeping there in 1985 when, in the middle of the night, my grandparents got the call that my uncle had been killed in a car wreck. At this time, my aunt was eight months pregnant with their second child.

I slept in that room in college when I came home to visit during my Papaw's second treatment for colon cancer. It is same bedroom that I caught a cat nap in after I stayed the night at the hospital with Pappaw when the cancer came back for the third time in 2003. Jessica and I slept there one night after we graduated college.

This is the house where I gathered with the rest of my family in the days after my Pappaw died but before we buried him to eat and remember him. That house was the first place I went once I was cleared to drive after John Hinton was born. My Mammaw and I ate Chickfila and stared at him.

I did not go to dig through the rubble with my family this weekend. Somehow, I figured that the Plum would be hard to handle in the debris. So, he and I waited until the work crews-every other member of family-were back at my parents and joined them for more food.

In the morning before they start demolition, I will go to this house one last time to say a prayer and goodbye.

My Mammaw said the worst thing about all of this is that now everyone will know how much stuff she had. She had lots of stuff.

What else is there to say?

These are the days when memories are made...

We spent the weekend with our friends Anni and Julian.

Julian and I rode his tractor.







How stinking cute is Anni?

She and I watched a little Sesame Street.



Julian played a clown.



After a great weekend in Starkville, we made a trip to Dog Road. My PawPaw and I enjoyed some popcorn and chocolate.





My Nonnie did not think that PawPaw should let me eat popcorn so she kept killing our fun. And the quote of day from my PawPaw: "Damn Beckey, It's a miracle I kept Chris alive for two years before I met you and I was a lot dumber then than I am now."

From the Cuddler: If I could bottle today up and breathe it in, I would. We enjoyed crawfish and fried fish. My mom and Kelsey gave John Hinton rides on the golf cart. My brother and JR took Plum to splash in the lake. We ate ice cream on the deck. Today was the kind of day that my Papaw lived for and the kind that would allow me to die happy.

How do you spend a Wednesday?

I don't know how you spend your Wednesday, but I like to break out my beads.

First, I ride my four wheeler while rocking my big kaboomba beads.



I go shirtless just to keep things in the spirit of Mardi Gras.



Then I head over to get my bath, careful to keep my beads on so the Cuddler doesn't steal them. I like to splash to keep her at bay.



Love, a bejeweled Plum

When you have a moment...

When you have a moment, I have a prayer request. We all know that the Cuddler is a blog stalker. She really has a thing for adoption blogs. In her stalking, she came along this precious little boy, Kirill. You can read his story here. Kirill's adoption has been denied in Russia because the judge thinks that since he has Down Syndrome that he would be better in an institution than with a family. She says the family can have another child, just not Kirill. He is not acceptable for society. This hurts the Cuddler's heart. How could anyone think that this baby does not deserve a family, a family that is in Russia now fighting to bring him home? Please lift them up in prayer.

I have put a "button" for Kirill over on the right hand side of my blog as a reminder that he needs our prayers. His family does not know us from Adam, but we know that people with Down Syndrome are people with personality, feelings and love to give. We know because we loved our Aunt Betty Jo. She was full of herself and we will share some stories about her over the next few months because they just deserve to be told.

With a heavy heart, we pray that God will convict the hearts of the deciding officials to let this sweet baby go home with his family and open the way for other children to be adopted.

Love, the Plum

St. Paddy's Day Parade!

Nic and I really enjoyed the St. Paddy's Day parade. We both looked the part.



I got a snow cone. I eventually dropped it in the street and ate it off the street. My Non tried to freak, but hello? did she see the van that the Cuddler bought the snow cone out of? I mean seriously, Non.



My family was all there: Morning Guy, the Cuddler, Non, Me, Kelsey Ann, PawPaw, Uncle Chris and Aunt M. I think we are pretty good looking group.



Well, happy St. Paddy's Day!

Love, the Plum