A photo that deserves its own post.

Here's an inexpressibly precious gift from dear friends. Everything about it makes me cry, and I love it so much I conveniently make it match all of my outfits.

-A.H.

Pictures.

I'm sitting on a cozy couch in Lewisburg, PA. We drove here this morning with Peter's family--mom+dad+7 siblings+ sister's husband+tons of luggage= a whole lot of giggles and fun-- to celebrate Thanksgiving with his mom's family.

So I don't fall too far behind, I wanted to post a few pictures I'd meant to upload a while ago.

We tried to get some cute pictures of all 3 of us in case someone came along wanting to adopt him...as you can see, not one turned out.

and another night with homemade pizza...

 

they're kind of best friends. I think it's cute.

 One night we had a picnic on the living room floor while watching a movie. We wanted Chipotle and beer but just couldn't swing eating out, so we brought it to our own kitchen. Delish.

My latest project...

 Hopefully I'll get more pictures up of the other pieces of furniture we've restored. It really has been a fun project, and we're loving that it's not killing our budget to have new [looking] furniture!

We did a photo shoot Tuesday with a budding photographer friend, and as soon as I have the images in my hands they'll be on here. From what I've seen, I think they're pretty cute.

-A.H.

Why I lied on Facebook.

Peter and I say we met a the CCO Speech and Debate tournament at Parkside in 2007. We didn't really meet though. We made eye-contact. He thought I was cute, I thought he was gorgeous. So gorgeous in fact, that I rushed to my two close friends and excitedly wondered, "Who is that guy?"

Peter Hopkins. That was who.

I was working in the basement at the tournament, helping with the scoring and placing of the competitors. Peter was there visiting a friend who was competing. I had come up from the basement with a friend to grab lunch, and then my heart skipped a beat (truly).

We locked gazes for probably half a second, then realized what was happening and looked away. His grey-blue eyes were captivating, and I had no idea that moment was going to be the first page in the long story of us.

(This is not a tall tale. Not souped up for blogging purposes, or dumbed down for all ages).

And so that night, a friend, my sister and I created me a Facebook account. When we entered my birthday and clicked continue, the screen immediately reloaded saying there was an error.

Yes, that ghastly red writing beside the "birthday" section. And so, with a few quick clicks I was conveniently born in 1987.

Huh. And so was Peter. Imagine that.

I knew better than to initiate the online friendship, so I waited for him to find me. He did. It took a couple of hours.

And that's the beginning. I can't say it has either downhill or uphill from there, though I like to think it all went uphill. I guess that's how an uphill climb is though-- a little slow at times, taxing, arduous.

It really has been more of a roller coaster. Not those kiddie ones that take a few slow turns and climb a small hill, then quickly drop a smaller one. I'm talking about the monsters that shake your mind and make you scream so loud your voice is gone.  Where you get off with tears in your eyes, either out of laughter or fear (or in my case both); the ones with flips and turns, huge hills and dark tunnels...

I simply don't have the time to tell it all now, though someday I'd really like to.


-A.H.

Life without Facebook...

...is wonderful. Sure, there are plenty of people that log out each day and aren't driven mad, and there are probably even more people than can comfortably manage blogging and social networking. Not me...and so, I'm just going with this. For my sanity, peace of mind, and because I think it's what is best for my life.

Peter and I were talking about Facebook last week. We were noting how drastically it has changed over the years and remembering when one had to be 18 to create an account (so I lied about my age, with good reason, thank-you-very-much. Explanation to come), and now my 13 year old brother has one, "legally".
I always understood Facebook to be an online tool to reconnect with old classmates, relatives that live far away, etc., and now it is a network for people to, at any time, update cyber-world on their daily endeavors, join groups and "like" "oops i flushed my cell phone down the toilet and my contract isn't up yet" on Likey<3. I'm not criticizing or trying to say I am above it, but simply noting how it has evolved.

It's been roughly a month and I'm loving it. Computer time can actually have a defined cap. I get more done-- around the house, and away from home. I actually have more energy (does sitting in front of the computer screen drain anyone else?), I have more time to read, pray, think, and I'm truly a happier person. Facebook kind of made me a crazy person-- someone I didn't want to be. Not to mention this blog gets a whole lot more attention, and not at the expense of my husband, Joyce or other duties.


-A.H.

I want to go to the beach. . .

...because we have drinks with limes in them

...and it's happy

...and lazy 

... it's exotic

...and sunny.

There's nothing that has to be done.

...and it's sandy.

 Some people belong in the mountains, or the country, or the city or suburbia. I am right at home chilling on the sand. (And my husband promised he'd take me sometime soon). I don't mind that it gets everywhere because it's part of being there. What would a beach be without sand everywhere?

...Unless it's in my bed, then that's a different story.


One day I'd like to own a beach house that I can decorate in pastels and Shabby Chic. Where I can lay in the sun and homeschool on the sand. Where lemonade and mimosas are served all day long...


-A.H.

"...a time for every matter under heaven."

Our all-time favorite thing to do is light candles and sit on our front porch while drinking wine, eating grapes and chocolates, and smoking. Yes, that's right. Judge if you like. We like sit outside and enjoy the company of sailor smokes, unfiltered French cigarettes, or our latest Indonesian imports. We like to talk about nothing and everything. Sometimes we just sit across from each other and hold hands, talk about names for children we don't yet have, and dream of the two that we do. We like to reminisce about our earlier days together and make plans and dreams for our future.

The Lord often uses this time to reveal great things to us.  Like:

How children are a blessing, though marriage's well-defined purpose is for companionship. Not procreation. Children are an asset, "a gift".

I've realized something simple, something a lot of people probably realized much sooner than I have. In the most respectful way, there is more to life than having a quiver-full.

Again, this is not said in a selfish or careless way, but a thoughtful and heart-felt one.  Mind you, this is coming from a woman that got married out of high school with the hopes of being a young mother to a whole gaggle of children, among other things. In no way am I undermining the noble calling of being a mother. I am simply noting there truly is a season for everything, different for everyone, and motherhood should not be over-emphasized.

I also realized on this one particular night on the porch that the season of motherhood is not yet upon me. Peter and I have great plans and huge dreams for our life together-- desires for our children and what we want to be able to provide them with. Goals we want to reach together and things we want to accomplish as a team. And with or without children, we will pursue this path.

And, if the Lord chooses to bless us with one or many, 9 months from now or in the distant future, well then, they just get to come along on this crazy adventure!

-A.H.

Sleepy girl and shopping carts.

Joyce is still a bit (OK, a lot) jet-lagged, but despite it, she manages to be a cheery little toddler. I just lover her. We spent the morning shopping, and she sang something about "Myyy Peeeterrr, myyyyy Peeteeeer, mmmmyy Peeeteerrr" up and down the aisles. We then raced home to unload stuff and went to a delicious local Turkish restaurant for lunch with a friend.

I was proud to be taking care of Joyce-- people really seem to like seeing well-behaved children in public. Imagine that.

Costco's entrance is more than well-stocked with the latest high-definition TVs, plasma screens and portable DVD players. I giggled out loud to see someone's two young boys comfortably situated in front of what looked to be a 103" TV watching the newly-released Toy Story 3. I giggled because well, this is absolutely something my little brothers would do, and I liked seeing that others' children have the same great ideas. I'm thinking whoever the mother was had a more-than-peaceful shopping experience and her sons will soon be asking to go back to Costco.

I always hate pushing shopping carts.

Especially the ones at Costco because I can barely see over the top! Sometimes, like today, it's best if I just give the cart one hard push and let it roll right along down the aisle, while I toss items from the shelf and into my cart. Quite frankly, I don't have the strength to stop a cart full of food, let alone one with a child in it.  And, well sometimes I look like a little mad-woman hurrying up and down, not bothering to stop at the end of each one. Really, it's just easier to roll right along to the next aisle.

My back actually hurts from this trip.

And, though their carts are so big I am convinced Joyce and I could have comfortably napped in the thing together, I tossed my over-sized package of toilet paper to the bottom of the cart. When I got to the register and unloaded everything, I realized I'd forgotten the toilet paper. So, as I was bending down to pull it up onto the counter, the cashier said, "Oh please!! Ma'am! Please! Leave that there for me to get!"

Good grief.  Perhaps he saw me shopping and thought I was Schumacher racing up and down the aisles...


-A.H.

Another week of green drinks.

I've been so lax in my smoothie devotion. And I feel it. I think Peter does too, he just doesn't know that's the problem yet.

We're so tired. I'm cranky, too. And overly-emotional. I'm farther away from my Christmas goal weight than I was 2 weeks ago. Maybe the deadline will be my birthday. Or our anniversary...

The blender stays cleaner. But who cares?

But, for the smoothies I have been consistent about making once-a-day, here's what we're putting in:

2C water
2 huge handfuls (about 3-4 cups) organic, baby spinach
2 huge handfuls collards
2 bananas (I've since stayed away from freezing them, if possible. Sometimes they brown too quickly and I am left with no other option. However, the taste is definitely sweeter and stronger when used fresh)
1C strawberries
1/2 C fresh cranberries
2 apples, not peeled
3-4 T flax oil


-A.H.

He is good.

... And less than 24 hours later I've return to my miserable worm self. I should be joyful. I know the Lord wants me to be. I remember when I was really young wondering to myself why so many Christians complained about life or were simply unhappy. Don't they know they're going to be in heaven? Worshipping at the feet of their Savior someday?


To have that innocence that continually looks upward. To think like a child...


I remember thinking the knowledge, the confidence, that I too was going to to be at His feet, was all I needed to get through.


I often like to pray before writing a blog post. I pray that the Lord will give me the words to write, and that His presence will fill my spirit. Especially when I feel so empty, because today's one of those days where I fall into the category of people that my 7-year old self didn't understand. 


Oh, Satan. He tempts me to despair, he tells me to be miserable. He hides the good things I have, the things that bring me joy, and brings to light those things I don't have. The things I want. He tells me I am nothing, and that I should continue the day this way.


But why?


Quite honestly, even 12 years later I still don't get it.




I need the grace to make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all my days. You know, I can be pretty good at it when life is good. (The kind of good that means "things are going my way").  But what about all the time? 


He is good all the time. He remains faithful when I fall, when I am so faithless... Today and everyday, the good days and the bad, His grace is sufficient. His Word can cover my soul and fill me with strength. And it will.




-A.H.

Second post of the day.

Thanksgiving is weeks away and I am seeing and hearing from other people that Christmas lights and decorations are up. It is too early for Christmas decorations.  It's cold, but a little premature to whisk away the pumpkins and mums and replace them with poinsettias and wreaths... Let's not rush fall, folks.
___________________________________________________________________

I'm looking at this big, cuddly puppy by my feet and am wondering several things:

1. why is he scared of the broom? It is taller, but he is much bigger than it.
2. why does he bark or growl at certain people that walk by the house, not everyone?
3. why does he run from and bark at the vacuum cleaner?

5 months. He was into everything.

___________________________________________________________________

I just love my husband. He was all curled up in bed this afternoon when I came home from making chocolate. He had fallen asleep studying. Again. He works so hard, and does so much. He hasn't gone to sleep with me, before midnight, in longer than I can remember. In fact, he's usually up till at least 2am getting things done.

But not once has he complained.

Another mentionable-- he never complains about my cooking. There have been several meals, new recipes I've tried, that were really just awful. Once was pork chops with sweet potatoes, apples and onions. It truly was a disaster. I over-cooked the pork (I think I was paranoid about cutting in to raw pig), not to mention we both hate pork. It would be a great recipe for anyone looking for a sweet dinner, that also likes pork and owns a meat thermometer.

Not too many nights ago I made a meatloaf, added rice, and not enough sauce. It came out as one lump of beef with rice popping out of the top and sides of the loaf. Peter's good-humored response, "That doesn't even look like meatloaf!" Needless to say, we gave it to the dog. 

He loves to sing.

He also loves fine dining.

...and be silly.

A good, hearty breakfast is his
favorite meal of the day.

___________________________________________________________________

-A.H.

Delighting in the now.

It's funny how I surprise myself with the immense length of time between posts, then blame it on my busy life, yet when I open my computer I seem to have nothing to blog about. Heh.

Here's something- for part of last week and a few days this week I've been working at the "chocolate factory" (it's not really anything like Charlie's, except that there's chocolate everywhere) that Peter works at. They are getting ready to deliver a huge shipment (and by huge I mean thousands of truffles and candied orange peel and apricots) and needed another set of hands in the kitchen. Yes, in the kitchen. So, I've learned how to made ganache for truffles, I've learned how important temperatures are when it comes to making fine candies. I've learned all about an enrober and understand why it was just easier for Lucy to eat the candies coming off the conveyor belt.

Really, it's been a lot of fun. You can kind of walk around eating chocolate. As as far as making it, I've truly never been covered in more cocoa than after I've worked a full day here. There's chocolate all the way up my arms and in places you didn't know it could get to...

We kind of hope Bill, the owner, hands the business down to us when he dies. (Hah). He imports chocolate and other ingredients from France and ships his candies all over the world. His parents came over from Greece in 1930-something and his dad began the chocolate business shortly after coming over. They lived in an apartment above the store and chocolate basically ran their life. Bill's dad died at 103 and Bill then took over, with his mother who is quickly approaching her last years (she's another story for another time).

All that to say I'm headed there again today...
_________________________________________________________________

On another note, I have been off of Facebook for a number of weeks now and don't miss it at all. No offense to you all that document every minute of your lives there.

I'm a happier person, really. I didn't realize how much time was invested in it until I had that time back. The 5-10 minutes every day, twice a day, made me feel miserable about how I was spending my time. That's why I am a happier person.

I left for many, many reasons. I'm not saying I'll never go back. In fact, I probably will someday. Eventually. I'm really in no hurry.
_________________________________________________________________

I'm really loving life. Its always crazy, and it's always so good.

I think contentment is an ongoing process, kind of like sanctification.

I'm learning to truly trying to savor every minute of it and where I am. Like the post I wrote a while back about smelling the flowers... I've sort of failed that challenge recently. I make little issues huge ordeals. I think about the past and what I didn't do, about the future and what I don't have.

But what about the now? I think I forget about it sometimes.

It is wonderful, perfect for me because it is where the Lord has us. Difficult, trying, sometimes stressful, but we push on, confident that there is a prize at the end of the road.  We're confident that this is the way we are to be traveling, despite its hardships.

In fact, I'm pretty sure we should be walking this path because it is hard. It keeps our eyes fixed and our grips tightened.


-A.H.

New path.

-A.H.

Oktoberfest!

It came and went like any other much-anticipated event does. Though I am certain it did not fly quite as fast as our wedding day did. Needless to say, brats and homemade pretzels were devoured. We overestimated on the beer and now our fridge and pantry make us look like people we're not.

We couldn't have asked for a better night-- it was cold, but paired with a chilly beer and brat hot off the grill, the night was perfect.

We lined the front porch and stairs with candles, brought out blankets and stools, and laughed until the sun came up (almost).

Sadly, I was too busy having fun to capture many pictures (when do I ever make myself available for taking pictures?), but I will post what I managed.

My pumpkin bread pudding. Yes, it's delish.

Making pretzels.

boiling them...

salting them.

Jesse and "Sharona"

"Dale".

Sharona, Dale and their youngin'
 (plus their second bun in the oven) win
best-dressed.

-A.H.