Writing Challenge

Challenge: Write for 20 minutes using the following phrase as your first line.
     "Collapsing under a canopy of green. . ."

Collapsing under a canopy of green my spirit has left my body and is soaring over the city embracing every smell, sound, and moment. So this is what pure, unconditional love feels like. I am madly, no desperately, in love with a man who's name I do not know. Don't worry this isn't going to be one of those unrequited, Romeo and Juliet type affairs that leaves everyone feeling melancholy. Instead this is a tale of love in the truest sense of the word.

I should start from the beginning where all great love stories arise, my parent's basement. (Wait, you thought I was serious didn't you?) Sadly my parents do not have a basement and this saga of love instead begins at a county fair. Picture it: the faint aroma of fried food wafting through the breeze; skin glistening with late August sweat; lights flashing in every direction; ears buzzing with bells, whistles, and the occasional carnie attempting to lure your money away.

Had I known this would be a life altering moment I might have dressed differently. Instead, I wore old, blue jean shorts with just enough holes to be considered tasteful among my redneck brethren and a basic, cotton tank. My hair was partially pulled off my face, but my curls still danced in the summer breeze. Of course I donned my trusty converses to complete my look and headed out the door into my future. The sun was just sinking in the sky as I arrived at the ticket booth.

This was my 23rd summer at the fair. My parents were religious about carnivals. We didn't make it to church every Sunday, but I'll be damned if we ever missed a fair season. I was only 8 months old on my first fair visit, but I was there. Love of this noisy, thrilling season is in my blood and even now, twenty-three years later, I attend with the same fervor that both my parents expressed.

Michael and Ben (my younger brothers) have already raced through the gates and are bee-lining toward the giant ferris wheel. It's tradition. We always arrive at sunset and watch in awe as the sky fades from brilliant hues of magenta, fuchsia, turquoise, and lavender into a deep gray and finally coming to rest in a brilliant black littered with as many neon lights as there are stars. After we have accomplished our most crucial task, we are free to roam wherever the best scent takes us or the brightest lights lead.

Following our noses is how we arrived at the polish sausage stand directly beside the Zipper. Anyone who has ridden the Zipper before knows the real purpose behind this amusement ride is to flip more times in a row than anyone who rode before you. The record in our family is 27 times, set by my father when he was 18 with his best friend Bill. Ben, Michael, and I calculated that with 3 people on the ride we'd have greater momentum and might finally beat my dad's record.

It was at this pivotal moment in my life that I made the mistake that would change my life forever. No, I am not being dramatic about the family record. However, that is an important part of this occurrence, yet not the life altering part. We three amigos hopped into our cage and set off rocking. Since it was still early, they were letting the ride last a little longer and we knew that record was ours to break. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. What's that awful sound? Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight! We had made twenty-eight revolutions! We were victorious! Twenty-nine. Thir...

And right there between twenty-nine and thirty is when the bottom fell out. Literally. The cage door, the only thing keeping us from plummeting to the dirt littered with garbage and cigarette butts, decided now would be as good a time as any to break. Later, we were told that a faulty mechanism in the lock is what caused the accident. But, that is neither here nor there. Back to the epic moment at hand.

There we were fifty feet up staring down at wires and the metal structure that held the Zipper together. The door was flapping in the breeze like a loose scarf and the flimsy seatbelt strapping us in was threatening to retire at any instant. A seatbelt ripping sounds like the slow undoing of a zipper and how appropriate considering our ride's name. Ben and Michael were on the side and able to grab hold of the cage. I was left to cling to the open door and pray for a strong grip. Legs dangling, the ride slowly began its descent. At ten feet above the ground that summer sweat finally got the best of me and my fingers slid from the door as my back slammed into the dusty ground.

Apparently, I got the wind knocked out of me and passed out during the ordeal. I might have knocked a few screws loose as well, but how could anyone find them in all that dust. My eyes slowly peeled open to reveal the most beautiful mustache one has ever seen. It glistened in the sparkling neon night and tickled my cheek as its owner lifted me from the dirt. A mustache this glorious is usually attached to an older man who has earned the right to don such a masterpiece. The breath was almost knocked out of me a second time when my eyes fully opened to the man who held me in his arms.

He had the muscular body that only a fireman can possess from long hours on the job. Gallantly he carried me to the medical tent and gently laid me on the makeshift cot set up for occasions such as these. He asked me the typical questions: my name, where I lived, could I tell how many fingers he had up? After proving I was coherent enough to get the basics right his eyes locked in on mine and I knew he felt the magic that had passed between us. I didn't blink, I didn't hesitate. I dove forward and planted my lips on his. The kiss lasted a millisecond before I collapsed again beneath the green tent canopy.

Coming to the second time was not nearly as pleasant as the first. Michael and Ben gladly informed me that I had a giant gash running across my forehead and had lost a ton of blood. "It was so epic," they gleefully chimed together. As they helped me piece together what happened after I lost my grip, the flap of the tent began to pull back. I just knew my manly, mustachioed savior was back. Nope. It was an older woman, named Edna, who chuckled as she informed me that I had misinterpreted those passionate signals of earlier.

Firefighter (as we will call him since I didn't learn his name) was attempting to check my pupils for dilation which I took as a loving glance. What an idiot. Now I have done some idiotic things before, but this really takes the cake. I began to sit in my stupidity and feel quite down. I didn't have long to mope though because the gash was rather serious and required a trip to the hospital. Edna helped me into the back of the ambulance and Ben and Michael ran to the car to meet me there and let my parents know the glorious details.

A scar would look pretty cool, and the story to accompany it was one of a kind for sure. The dark cloud over me was beginning to lift with each mile closer to the hospital. Stitching me up didn't take long and I was resting in a room, leafing through old magazines, when my parents arrived to take me home. Mom and Dad were speaking with my doctor about procedure and protocol when in he walked. He didn't blink. He didn't hesitate. He strode over to my bed and wrapped me up in his arms as he kissed me the way only a man with a mustache as beautiful as his knows how to kiss. I melted.

We are now married with three boys. We continue the fair tradition each year and still ride the Zipper with one goal. No one in my family has beaten the record of twenty-nine times, but our boys are bound and determined. My husband still possesses the sexy 'stache that drew me to him on that warm, August night so many years ago. I still call him firefighter every now and then, but go with the more personal, David, for day to day usage. And that is how one goes from collapsing under a canopy of green to living happily ever after.

(I hope y'all enjoyed this random challenge. This is a completely fictional story by the way.)

Love Does

There is something magical in a snow day that requires me to curl up in my parents' quilt(now mine after I stole it from their house) and get lost in a book. I'm undoubtedly certain that my body would shut down if I denied it this tradition. Since I rather enjoy functioning and plan on living a full life, I decided not to chance anything and curled up with Love Does by Bob Goff on this not so white "snow" day.

Certain seasons in my life and experiences alter how I perceive a book. My constantly changing self is why I greatly enjoy revisiting old, beloved books time and again. Each new meeting I take away something I couldn't have the last time and gain further insight into this beautiful world and my own soul. Sometimes the stars align and the fairy dust settles just right so that I am met with a new book that snuggles perfectly into the niche of my life. I believe that God speaks to me through books and the stars. He may speak to you through scripture, moments with friends and family, the beauty in nature, or you may be legit and get a direct line. However, He and I communicate through our shared love of literature.

Love Does is one of those books that fits just perfectly into my current niche. The tagline or subheading to the book reads; Discover a Secretly Incredible Life in an Ordinary World. Recently I have found myself wondering what I could do more. As a christian, as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend, as a teacher, etc. How could I be more? The answer is so simple: love does. No perfect answer or blueprint exists. Love simply does. Instead of finding an organization to attach my name to or plan all the ways I can do better, I simply need to do.

Goff talks about being "secretly incredible" in one chapter of his book. This really resonated with me and reminded me of the book of Matthew:

Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you      will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

          -Matthew 6:1-6 (NIV)

I love this passage of scripture because of how true it rings. I think of the people in my life whom I admire and look to for guidance and they are selfless and humble.

Love does. True, pure, incredible love does not pause to see who is watching or ensure that others know its actions. Goff summarizes this sentiment beautifully, "It's not about being secretive or mysterious or exclusive. It's about doing capers without any capes." Magic exists in all our lives if we stop worrying about the cape and start doing. I have experienced love a multitude of times in my life and it never involved a red carpet, news coverage, or people applauding the giver. Moments when we experience unconditional love are usually quiet and personal.

Lent is fast approaching and as a proper Methodist I have been debating what to give up for those 40 days. I am inspired by the words in Matthew and Love Does to do more and therefore become more. Yet again, God answers my prayers of how to become more through the crisp pages of a book. He has really spoken to me through this book and challenged me to stop planning and simply act. I am still giving up soft drinks(baby steps people), but I am also going to attempt to be "secretly incredible" just a little more. Who knows, maybe I'll pull off a few capers here and there. I challenge you(and myself) to set your cape aside and simply love.

As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead.
          -James 2:26 (NIV)

Writing Assessment: Embarrassing Moment in Caylor History

Hello Blog Familia. Recently my students have been preparing for an upcoming writing assessment and it has amplified my desire to challenge my own writing. The other day we created a neighborhood map and I entertained my class with hilarious stories from my youth, some of which I have written about on here. Thus inspiration was had and I have deemed it high time that I regale you with another epic tale from the life and times of Caylor. It wouldn't be a saga of mine without awkwardness and laughter so buckle up for this hilarious ride.

Picture a gangly youth in the 5th grade with a lion's mane, as I had not discovered gel or mousse yet, strolling through the forest on a fun hiking adventure with my family. Competitive should have been my middle name, but my parents weren't aware of my greatness until I was at least three and by that point they were kind of attached to Reneé. So there I am on this beautiful nature trail with my entire family and our family friends, The Barkley's and all I could think about was sprinting ahead to be the first person to complete this trek and further solidify that I was better in all areas of life than everyone present.

I'm gleefully skipping along and have passed all members of our party by at least a half mile or greater when it hits me. I have the urge to tinkle. Now I understand that you are aware I am surrounded, practically suffocating, amid a bevy of trees. But, 11 year old me did not draw that logical conclusion. No, my brilliant self saw a nearby creek and formulated the greatest plan ever!

It was so simple; I just knew I had invented a masterpiece of deceit. I would pee my pants and then splash around in the creek to disguise how my pants had truly gotten wet. Part one was a success as I emptied my bladder directly into my jean shorts. Next, I sat down directly in the stream and daubed my gorgeous jorts with water. Now I just had to wait for these fools to catch me and put my plan into action.

Around the bend arrives the large group of 10 or so individuals. They look at me and I hurriedly exclaim, "I tripped and fell in the creek." I have fooled them all and attained genius levels of trickery. I am feeling extremely smug and have no moment of panic when one by one each person finds a tree or bush to pee behind. I am victorious!

Flash forward to high school. We are sitting around the kitchen table after dinner and laughing at old memories and hijinks. I decide to finally come clean about my sordid past. My family sits in quiet attentiveness as I refresh their memories of our hiking trip. As I finish, every single soul at the table erupts into judgmental guffaws. Emma, my youngest sister who would have been 4 or 5 at the time of said pee party, manages to spew out between giggles, "We knew that day. No one falls in a creek in a perfect sitting position. It was so obvious!"

I am shocked, stunned, befuddled at this revelation that they knew all along. Here for the past 7 or 8 years I had felt pride in my ability to mask the embarrassing truth. Only to find out that I had been the fool. I had been the idiot who looked at the hundreds of trees in my nearby vicinity and said, "Nah." Although my jig was up and I felt quite the dullard, I did feel entirely loved and supported. How kind was my entire family and the Barkley's to be met with this easily ridiculed moment and instead rise above the natural, immature response. Instead of humiliating me to no end, they rose to heroic levels and stifled their giggles and let me exit the forest unscathed. (Well except for the giant pee stain on my shorts)

And now you know my 2nd most embarrassing story. I hope I have made you chuckle and reminisce about your own hilarious stories. Have a lovely weekend!

A Bucket for my Bucket List

Bucket lists. We all have them wether they are a detailed list with highlight marks and exclamation points or a more general idea floating around in our heads. This past weekend I was able to live out one of the items at the top of my list; attend a Duke Blue Devils basketball game at Cameron Indoor. I am going to attempt to describe the joy I experienced as I watched a dream of mine from freshman year of high school become a reality.

Maeg

It was a brisk Saturday morning and I was walking the Duke campus with my boo, Maegan, when we reached the epitome of gorgeous architecture and a dominant landmark, the chapel. I was content to walk through and admire the beautiful stain glass windows, insanely high ceilings, and touches reminiscent of Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's Cathedral in London. Needless to say, it was breath taking. We reached the front of the chapel and I noticed a custodian named Oscar at the front. I inclined him to take a quick picture so I could look back fondly on this memory. He gladly obliged and threw in a few jokes as well. After 25 minutes I realized we were still talking to this delightful man. Oscar has been working in this chapel for 17 years and is full of life, if you ever go to Duke make sure to stop in and talk with him for a minute. Church mice, mirrors, fires, movies, etc. were a few of the intriguing topics/events that he entertained us with and through him we were able to revisit the history of this magnificent building.

Oscar then asked the most wonderful question, "Would you ladies like to go to the top?" Umm, obviously our answer was a hasty yes. Pulling out his key ring he escorted us to the stairwell, which quickly changed to the elevator as Maeg let on how nervous she was about claustrophobic heights. (It was only 400 steps up a windowless, spiral staircase...no big deal.) The elevator was charming and had golden gates which whisked us to the bell tower where we were able to look down at the inner workings of this church. Coach K uses this elevator when he goes to the top and Kyle Singler has shot baskets off the area we stood. Of course Oscar was not through with our moment and opened a second door leading us to the very peak of the chapel where we had a 360 degree view. He pointed out parts of Duke's campus, Raliegh, Chapel Hill, and quite a few other views from our tower on high. I felt a little like a princess standing in my castle. We were even allowed to carve our names in the wall. I giggled for a good part of our time atop this spire. How special this was became cemented when we returned to reality(ground level) and witnessed several directors of the board who had to reserve a time to experience the adventure we'd just had spontaneously.

My heart fluttered as we began our walk toward Cameron Indoor. The morning had started perfectly and I couldn't imagine the day getting any better. But this was my fairy tale and so of course it did! Greg, Maeg's husband, joined us in line for the game. They were unbelievable troopers and arrived a little under 2 hours early because they love me! We were still pretty far back and I was concerned that our seats might not be the best, but still excited because I was about to watch Duke basketball. Luckily Greg knew that if you made a sign you might get moved and brought the guy in charge back to judge my sign. I exhaled as he gave us the go ahead and approved my sign. We were brought to the very front of the line and given wristbands. Front row behind the home goal is where we ended up. I couldn't believe that my first game at the arena of my favorite team in the whole world would land me front and center. I truly was a princess!

Days later, I am still taking in the sights and sounds of heaven on earth. Energy was palpable and the dancing and cheering began well before the game clock started. For the next three hours I screamed, shook my crazie hand at opponents, snapped picture after picture, and died of happiness. Coach Mike Krzyzewski was vibrant and larger than life as he reacted to plays, even falling to his knees in exasperation at one point. President George H.W. Bush honored us with his presence and chants of U-S-A filled the stands. Duke played with passion and crushed the wolves of NC State with ease. Many a delightful dunk was made and we roared with delight after each slam or barely audible swish of the perfect three. As the final buzzer rang, I floated back down from my cloud and returned to walking amongst the peasants and normal folk once more.

Mike Krzyzewski sums up the illustrious moment poignantly, "Fun is to experience things you would not have been able to experience in any other setting."

Triumphant

Flexibility is key when starting on a new challenge. Each week I select a quote to attempt to inspire my fifth graders to greatness and I call it "Monday Motivation." Today's quote is:
   
      "Perseverance, secret of all triumphs."
                                  -Victor Hugo

I love the simplicity and simultaneous depth of this quote. Often in our aspirations we set our sights high and when we falter it is a long drop from the greatness we'd hoped to achieve. However, flexibility allows for missteps when accompanied by perseverance. That drive to continue forward through rough patches is the only thing between you and your (realistic) triumphs. Obviously one can aspire for things beyond their control(I will never be the best player in the NBA no matter how much I dream).

My resolution journey continues forward and this time I am putting my happiness first and my resolutions second. They are after all under my command so they will gladly be flexible or I'll be rid of them. For example, originally I set out to cook a new meal every Tuesday. Too limiting. What happens if I have plans? Exactly. Instead of feeling like a failure I quickly realized that a more realistic triumph would be to cook something new and exciting once per week. This provides 21 meals I can choose from for my Piéce de Résistance each week.

Here is the delicious Bow Tie Sausage Pasta I created tonight:


















It was extremely hearty and delicious. A real quick meal to make, but completely fulfilling and can feed a large number of people for fairly cheap!

Other resolutions. Don't worry I didn't forget; I'm not going to do ONLY food posts. I have joined a gym and I went and worked out tonight for an hour. I also ran a couple miles Sunday evening. Half-marathon here I come.

Reading is also going really well, as was to be expected. I have started reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. If you have a chance to go see the film please do; the little girl who stars in the film is magical to watch and phenomenal as an actress. *Warning: Highly depressing film

Lastly, I tried out Sunday schools yesterday and my church and it went swimmingly. I met two other girls doing the same thing and we became fast friends. They are so incredibly nice and I am excited about getting to know them and all the other delightful people I met much better. I was very fortunate that my church has just begun an after college Sunday school so I am among my brethren and not the whatever number wheel to all the couples classes.

All in all, I have had a delightful first of the year and I am really excited to see what adventures this year has in store for me. I promise to persevere through them all so I can dance around in celebration of my triumphs. May you reach your triumphs and persevere through any hardships!

Mangez bien, riez souvent, aimez beaucoup

(Eat well, laugh often, love abundantly)

Broccoli, Chicken & Cheese Casserole

Please tell me why I have not been cooking myself delicious meals all the time? I have no idea why I have gone so long since I cooked something new for myself, but I can tell you that all that is going to change. Today was my first Tuesday to cook a yummy new recipe and boy did I start with a bang. I wish y'all were here to smell the incredible odor wafting through my kitchen and living room. You are missing out.


This recipe is super simple and would be a crowd pleaser for many. Basic ingredients make it a perfect dish to serve to any finicky kids and you are sneaking broccoli into the mix. The gooey cheese wraps itself around the chicken and broccoli to create a meal that warms your stomach. Golden brown bread crumbs add the perfect texture and flavor to tie the dish together.

The recipe I found put the entire dish over rice, but I think it is filling enough without the rice. I would pair it with a nice cut of meat as a side item to really stretch the servings or serve it up as the main dish. This recipe feed 4 adults easily.







Ingredients:
-3 cups cooked, shredded chicken (I used skinless)
-2 cups cooked, chopped broccoli
-2 cans Cream of Chicken soup
-1/2 cup sour cream
-2 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese (I chose mild, but sharp would add a nice kick of flavor or you could use a variety of cheeses)
-1 1/2 cup bread crumbs
-1/2 stick butter, melted
-pepper, to taste

Directions:
1. Add Cream of Chicken, sour cream, 1 1/2 cup cheese, chicken and broccoli in large mixing bowl. Stir and then place in baking dish.
2. Layer the remaining 1 cup of cheese over the top.    
3. Combine melted butter and bread crumbs. Layer this    
mixture over the cheese.
4. Bake at 375* for 30-35 minutes.

Mangez bien, riez souvent, aimez beaucoup

(Eat well, laugh often, love abundantly) 

Fresh Beginnings

I am filled with the hope that a new year brings.

This year I am taking steps to improve myself from the inside out and I am starting slow to increase the victories and keep my motivation strong. So many times I am tempted to improve every single area of my life and by February I am overwhelmed and discouraged. Instead of maintaining the insanity I have designed for myself I end up letting some things go and this makes me feel like failure. Before summer has a chance to arrive, I've usually beaten myself up about all the things I didn't do and am left depleted of all motivation. Not this year! This year I am going to set attainable goals that have flexibility.

Goal 1: I am training for my first half-marathon. I trained this Fall for the St. Jude Marathon in Memphis, but icy conditions caused the race to be cancelled and so I must continue this journey into Spring. I have found a wonderful training program which focuses on overall conditioning and includes cross training, weights, stretching, etc along with running. I am excited about this because last time I trained it was only running and I got burnt out. My knees are very excited that this program has some low impact training involved as well. I also have signed up for 2 races to keep my training fun. I am running the half on April 26th.

Goal 2: Relationships. Anyone that knows me knows how little I truly share about myself that is personal. I have a really hard time being vulnerable or opening up to people. I want great relationships and in order to attain that, I am going to have to put in the effort on my side. This goal is one that I am leaving wide open so that I keep with it. My goal is to simply make efforts to be honest with people about my feelings (yeah I have those sometimes lol), refrain from joking when a good conversation is occurring, and making new friendships. The last part of this goal leads into the next one.

Goal 3: Faith. I have a good faith and attend church regularly, but I miss the community that is so crucial to growth in faith. I make excuses of why I don't go to Sunday School, but they are all nothing more than an excuse. I am going to plug into my church in a meaningful way. This Sunday I am going to attend a couple different groups and see which group I fit into best and make a commitment to attend regularly. I firmly believe that surrounding myself with people growing in their faith will cause mine to grow.

Goal 4: Culture. I enjoy reading and cooking a lot, but I tend to let those fall by the wayside when I get busy. However, I have designed my half-marathon training schedule and have a couple days where I have time to set aside for those hobbies that make me happy. I am going to cook something new every Tuesday. It can be as simple as a new way to cook eggs or an entire meal. Since I am single, I often don't cook a whole meal b/c it's only me to eat it, but I deserve to eat well wether I have a family or not. Thursdays are going to be reserved for reading. I am starting off small and only challenging myself to an hour every Thursday.

These goals may seem like a lot, but in reality I am only building on things I already am doing. And the beauty of adding a little extra work in the forefront is that the rewards I reap will be exponential. Here's to goals/resolutions that build us up and make us feel good about ourselves. I am looking forward to a year of becoming an even better me instead of trying to change myself to fit someone else's mold.

"We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be."
           -May Sarton