Home and back again

For those of you who didn't see me in my whirlwind tour through GA, I was back home from Saturday to Thursday. It was a great trip- short enough that when I left, my family was sad to see me go, but long enough that I saw almost everybody I wanted to, except Pius school people. I spent a lot of time with my family, too, which was good. I didn't even really do that when I lived with them. Mark and I went out to lunch at Frontera on Monday, and then we went out to Coldstone for ice cream on Wednesday. Good grief that boy can eat. We talked about his life, my life... he's not much of a phone talker, so I had to catch up on the last couple of months.

In many ways, Georgia is much the same as I left it. My parish is somewhat more in disarray, mostly from lack of a parochial vicar. I'm very proud of the great job the staff and pastor are doing, but it's not their fault that demand is exceeding supply. People there are still the same though. Still going to the same Masses, still singing the same songs, still the same visiting priests, still the same great community. It was nice to be back, if only for a Sunday. I wasn't as mobbed as I thought I'd be by people wanting to talk to me, which was kind of a blow to my ego, but also good because it reminded me how calm and steadfast this community is. Many of the people I love at my church have been going to Mass there every Sunday for decades. They were there when I was born, and they watched me grow up; that I'm coming back now from college is no big deal, it's just another Sunday.

My family is pretty much the same too. Still going to work and school, still the same routine- with one rather important exception. They replaced me with a kitten. I kind of expected them to get something warm-blooded for Mark after I left, but I assumed they would go through the long research and adoption agency process, like what happened when I came close to getting a dog. Oh no. This kitten was brought in from just hanging around the house. What inspired them to adopt this flea-bitten, 5-week-old, loud creature is beyond me, especially when Dad is allergic to cats. They've certainly made it a part of the family, though, installing new doors to keep the cat out of forbidden parts of the house, taking it to the vet, washing it to kill the fleas, altering their routines in order to properly care for the beast. They gave it my birthdate and Daddy calls it by my nickname. Sometimes it returns their love and will condescend to let them pet and hold it; most of the time it would rather bite you and pounce on your feet. Somehow, it's still cute despite its viciousness, and it fell asleep enough times in my lap that I started to give into its charm. It's still weird though.

Other fall break activities included running out to Athens to see Lauratwin, eating dinner with the Grones at our house, and seeing people from my ex-place of employment. All good fun. It was a good break.

Anyway, this has been a really long post. It's good to be back; my roommate and friends were waiting to welcome me back to Farley when I got back at like 2 AM Friday morning. Yesterday was mostly pep rally (in which a speaker dropped his pants... ick) and drummers' circle. Football game today, which should be fun. At some point I need to do homework. Pretty much back to college life, I guess. Life is good, God is good.

first post! and title explanation

To start off, I will explain the title:

My babysitter/ 3rd grandmother, who really helped to raise me when I was little, had a delightful collection of oddities in her trailer park home, such as a present that had never been unwrapped (REALLY got on my nerves), an endless supply of porcelain horses, and little colored glass vases. She also had, on one of her many knick-knack shelves, two baby shoes that had been bronzed, presumably having belonged to her two sons in the past. I don't think I've ever seen another bronzed shoe, although I hear that at some point it was a common practice. I would ask about each unique item, but especially the shoes, because she loved to tell me stories about her sons, one of whom died in the military, which was very exotic to me at the time. Anyway, the image of those two little bronze shoes stayed with me, and to me it represents preserved memories and good times with my beloved babysitter. It kind of represents what I want this blog to be: a record of memories and snippets of my life for others to look in on and for myself to look back on. We'll see how it goes.