Hey little sister, I wrote about our pets like you wanted me to do!

Oh goodness, do you ever go back and read something you've written and then think, "why didn't I proofread that?" Or "why did I write that for people to read in the first place?" Because I do, every single time I go back and read anything I've written on here.

Anyhow, Easter has passed us now and warm weather is upon us. It is absolutely gorgeous outside, and Alabama is enjoying the time of year that brings terrible weather but also gorgeous, sunny, not-too-hot-but-not-cold days before the blazing sauna of summer starts. I went home for Easter and spent a beautiful couple of days with my family. It was really great to see them. And also our pets.

I live in a yardless apartment and work very long hours. A pet is really out of the question until I get a place with a yard. But I grew up out in the woods, away from heavy traffic and leash laws. We had dogs that ran free and cats that climbed trees. And. I. Loved. It.

My family currently has a dog, Scarlett, and a cat, Ookie. Ookie's original name was Captain, but he had conjunctivitis when we adopted him from the shelter and had the nastiest looking eyes. We started calling him Ookie Eye and the nickname has stuck, though his eyes are healthy and clean now. Scarlett and Ookie are the best of friends and I miss having animals.

Ookie and Scarlett when Ookie was still a kitten. "Hey, Scarlett, let's play"

"AHA!"

"Now you're mine! Meow!"

Since moving here and being petless, I have had to rely on others' pets to fill the void. I've really become quite pathetic. For one thing, I'm writing in a blog about my puppy and kitty. For another, my phone has become filled with pictures of me with other folks' animals. And I wrote all of those ridiculous comments above. If I go to your house and you have an animal, I will make it my mission to make that animal think I am its best friend before leaving.

Scarlett is absolutely the craziest and sweetest dog I've ever met. She's not very obedient, and only comes when called if she feels like it. If she doesn't feel like it, she crawls across the yard like we can't see her until she gets to the woods and then she takes off.  You can't tame the wind, after all. But we know that in a few minutes she'll be back. And then she wants to snuggle in our laps, where she either gazes adoringly at our faces or immediately falls asleep. She's like a baby. Except she doesn't scream or cry. Unless it's bath time. Apparently, baths are the worst thing. Those last few sentences were so brief, it's as if Hemingway wrote them, if Hemingway were a dog person. And we all know that Hemingway was definitely a cat person.

And our cat is ridiculous, too. He's huge, and orange, and fluffy, and quite the cat. His favorite thing to do is to sleep in flowerpots, and really, who can blame him? He just moves around the porch from one flower pot to another, doing what cats do (which is sleeping, if you don't know). And the dog will walk by, wagging her hairy tail, and you'll see a paw reach up and swipe playfully at it. And then the puppy will turn around and they'll touch noses.

And then your heart melts and you think you can never be happier than you are in that moment. And then you realize how crazy you are because a million things can make you happier than that, such as seeing Christ, or getting married, or having a baby. And then you realize that you just really a need a pet because you're the crazy pet lady. And then you remember that you live in an apartment that doesn't have a yard. And then you call your friend that has a cat or a dog and will let you come over and you can pet said pet. And then everyone judges you for posting about it on a blog. And then you don't care and post it anyway.

Those 3 Grey/Gray/Greigh Strands of Hair

So I have been growing my hair long in the past few years, after several years of keeping it short during college. I have nearly achieved my goal: mermaid hair. I've never been particularly fascinated with the idea of mermaids, like some people. But mermaid hair is undeniably glorious.

But in the summer of 2013, I made a terrible, terrible discovery which shook me to the core. If you were to put your finger in the middle of my right eyebrow and travel up my scalp, you would find three grey/gray/greigh hairs growing close together. Please don't actually do that, by the way. I just couldn't be bothered with to come up with a better way to describe how to find the location of those hairs.

I could see my future. A young woman, hair color snatched from her at 23 years of age, still clinging to her dreams of mermaid hair. As she mourns the loss of hair color, she takes comfort in ice cream. As her body adjusts to living off of naught but the nutrients found in ice cream, she realizes that she needs companionship. She invests in cats. Before she knows it, she's an 80 year old woman who spent her entire life unmarried, whose only friends had been cats, and who had still not given up on mermaid hair.

At 23 years 6 months of age

At 25 years of age

At 80 years of age, which is only slightly less terrifying than the following:

Not the girl in the story, but hilarious for some reason

I mean, I'm not saying I have an amazing hair color. It's pretty regular. Just regular brown. Too light to be dark and too dark to be light. I've never dyed it, not even just a little bit. I've always been scared that something would go terribly wrong and all of my hair would fall out I wouldn't keep the color maintained and it would look bad. But when I told my mother of the discovery of my 3 grey/gray/greigh strands of hair, she gave me some advice. 

"Carolyn, you can always dye it." And just like that, my terrifyingly sad vision of my future dissipated. I might not have to become an 80 year old mermaid monster after all. If my hair betrays me, I can always trick a man into marrying me through hair dye (haha just kidding) (maybe).

As it currently stands, I have not found any more grey hairs. My hair is still its regular, boring, plain ol' brown, and I'm okay with that. And as time has passed, I have become okay with my 3 grey friends. I have no idea when it is normal to start getting grey hairs, and I'm not in any hurry to add to their number. I would prefer to keep my hair regular, boring, plain ol' brown for as long as possible. But I have accepted those 3 hairs, and haven't even attempted to pull them out in months and months. 

Daughters of the Lord, beauty is not truly found in hair color. Finding 3 grey hairs was a surprising struggle for me, and I actually have worried over them. And though I haven't found any more grey (and hopefully will not for a long while), it is just a reminder that what I take for granted in myself as a young woman is fleeting and will one day crumble into dust. Some things will not crumble into dust, however, and it is to these things which we must cling.

Finally ready for Christmas

So I have been struggling to get into the Christmas spirit this year. I haven't wrapped any presents. I have only listened to my Christmas playlist approximately 2 times. I don't have any of my Christmas decorations set out yet, which actually isn't a big deal since I only have a fiber optic tree that's 3 feet tall, 2 sets of Russian nesting dolls, and a reindeer windsock.

And on our Wild, Organic Christmas Trees Tour, you can see the rare and delicate Teacup Fiber Optic Evergreen.

 Maybe it's living alone in a fairly new place, or maybe it's just because I'm older, but I just haven't been feeling Christmas-y. I have tried a little bit. I have helped cut down my family's Christmas tree and friend's Christmas tree. I driven around town once at night to look at lights. But typically by this time of year, I am feeling very festive. So last night's events were much needed to catapult me into some Christmas cheer. 

Last night some friends and I took a tour of historic homes. These homes were decorated in very traditional Christmas style, and were open for people to come inside and look around. And oh my goodness, they were beautiful homes. Some were nearly 200 years old, and were beautifully restored and preserved. And the Christmas decor was perfect. It was beautiful to just walk down street to the open houses on a night that was cold enough to let you see your breath, but not cold enough to make you feel like an icicle. And while we were walking down that street, I saw it. I saw what I have wanted to see pretty badly for a very long time. 

I saw a talking dog.

Just kidding.

I saw a shooting star.

And then I promptly freaked out and realized that it is now mid-December. And what happens during mid-December? The Geminid meteor shower, of course! And sure enough, when I confirmed with my phone that the meteor shower peaked  last night, I pretty much forced my friends to agree to stargaze with me after our Christmas tour. They were good sports about it, because who doesn't like to watch shooting stars?

So after we walked through the last historic home on the Christmas tour, we went back to my friend's house and watched a movie until it got late enough to really see the shower. And then we bundled up in coats and blankets, turned off all the lights, and went and sat outside. We were able to see the stars so clearly out where she lived, and we tried to pick out constellations while watching for shooting stars. I also learned that I don't really know anything about constellations. It got pretty cold, so we brought a space heater outside to warm our feet. Also, I just think that space heater is a fitting name for staring at the stars in space. 

We saw around 1 shooting star per minute, streaking across the sky like silver fish darting around in the water. The mountains could be barely seen in the background.

Notice all the constellations that I did not add.

And by the end of the night. I was in the Christmas spirit. It's a very distinctive feeling, being in the Christmas spirit. It's a very warm and comfortable feeling, even though I was sitting outside on a cold night and my toes were beginning to turn into foot icicles. It transcends our understanding, though we work hard to get a more accurate understanding of it. It goes beyond presents and decorations. It goes beyond lights and the houses around you, and the cities and the continents. 

It goes beyond all of that, all the way past space and beyond those shooting stars, and into heaven, where the Lord who created it all is at work. It goes all the way into time: past, present, and future. It goes all the way into that story that we know so well, where a star showed the path to the young Christ.

Travel Shaming.

It's the season of holidays, which means it's the season of travelling all over this great state. To Birmingham, to Tuscaloosa, to Auburn, to Wetumpka, and back to Huntsville after each trip. I hate driving, but because boys don't want anything to do with me and I will likely be alone forever, I have to drive on every one of these trips. I just wanna get married so someone else can drive. Is that so wrong?

This is supposed to be a depiction of Alabama, and the places within Alabama  to which I have been/will be travelling to within November and December. It's beautiful, I know.

But I must drive myself, and so I do. And all this driving around makes me think about some of the wonderful trips on which I have been. I like to see things I have never seen before. I like to learn about the things that have happened in those places, and the notable people who have been there. I enjoy experiencing the unique culture of each place. But even though I have been to many, many different places, I have fallen prey to what I like to call Travel Shaming. 

We have all experienced Travel Shaming. Either we have been the Travel Shamed or the Travel Shamers. I have visited approximately 13 states in the United States apart from my home state of Alabama (I am going to state the word state as many times as I can possible state the word state in this sentence). I have been to multiple cities in many of those states, and have visited or lived all over Alabama. I have not been out of the country, which is the biggest source of my travel shame. 

I have been to a variety of camps. I have visited other places for mission work. I have taken many wonderful vacations. I have seen a lot. I have really been blessed in my travels. Which is why travel shaming is so terrible.

I have been the travel shamed. When people post those things online showing where all they have traveled to within the United States, I am always travel shamed. Why? Because people who have only been to 13 states, all in the eastern half of the country, never post those. Only people who have been to at least half of the country post those. Now, I don't think it's because they are trying to rub it in my face, or anyone else's face. They're probably just eager to show that they have been blessed to be able to do and see a lot. 

The reasons people travel are broad, and sometimes complicated. Some have been able to travel for work (which is not always fun), and some have been blessed to travel just for fun. Sometimes, they go for mission work, temporary or long-term. Sometimes these mission trips are really just vacations disguised as mission trips (not the topic of today's post), and sometimes these mission trips are truly to perform real work for the Lord. Regardless of the many reasons people travel, they have been travelling far away and have consequently seen much, much more of the world than I have. 

I am very glad that these people get to travel, and have the means and opportunities to travel. I want people to be able to travel. Travelling can be really good. It is not that people get to travel that makes me feel travel shamed. It is the people who unconsciously brag. Many, but not all, people don't just talk about their adventures and what they saw, and post pictures for other people to enjoy. They don't just relate the details of their trip to people. It becomes travel shaming when they present themselves as better because they travel. They're always restless and never content until they can hop on an airplane again and zoom off to their next destination. It's not about their personal satisfaction at what they've experienced; it's about their personal satisfaction at making sure they are perceived as well-traveled. And that makes me feel travel shamed, because I have only been able to see 13 states all within one country. 

But then, I have also been the travel shamer, which is a sad thing to be once you realize you have been it. You see, many people within this country of plenty don't travel. At all. Travel is expensive. Even though this country is wealthy, and those here living in poverty can receive help more easily than those living in some of the poorest places in this world, that doesn't mean that they have much opportunity for luxury. And travel is a luxury that many, many people cannot afford, even people who are not living in poverty. Think of it this way: I might talk about a weekend trip to Alabama's beach, which I typically get to visit annually, and then find out that the other person in the conversation has never been to the beach. And that they actually haven't been out of town in years. Not because they like to stay close to home. But because gas is expensive, and hotels are expensive, and eating out is expensive, and paying to park your car in public parking is expensive. Leaving town is expensive.

And in that moment, I have travel shamed them. I have flaunted my ability to travel and what I have been able to do in this world as if it were no big thing. I might have "only" been to 13 states, but I have still travel shamed people. I might not can buy a plane ticket to Europe and spend 2 weeks there, but I have still travel shamed people. I might always be ready to forget that I have been blessed in my travels, and be ready to present myself as someone who longs to go to more and different places (and truly I would love to vacation or complete missions in many more places than I have been able to so far). But I hope that I can remember the difference between the blessing of travelling and travel shaming. 

Also, I never fully proofread these things, so sorry if some of the sentences don't make sense. 

Moon Mountain

I've been sick for the past few days. And it really was not very fun. I thought I was experiencing an allergic reaction on Monday, causing me to sneeze and feel congested. But by Monday evening, I figured I was sick. And sick I was. I ended up having to stay home from work on Tuesday and Wednesday with a fever, congestion, and all that fun stuff. And Thursdays are my off day, so I stayed home from work today and finished recovering.

That's supposed to be a tissue. Not just a blob or a booger.

And so for the past few days, I have become a nearly permanent fixture on my couch, watching hours, HOURS, of television shows and movies. I read a little, but that took more energy, so I would soon return to mindless staring at a show. I didn't do anything. I went a whole day without even looking outside. On the first night of being sick, I went to the drugstore and bought a thermometer, soup, children's cold medicine (yes, I still take children's cold medicine), and chocolate. The cashier wished me to feel well soon. I initially wanted to respond with something along the lines of, "how do you even know that this is for me?" But then I remembered that I looked like I was a sleepwalking monster-girl and that she had every reason to assume it was for me.

She also probably thought I was a moron because as I was looking for a basket in which to carry around my merchandise while shopping, I found a stack of them. The first few looked gross. There was a hairball in one. A hairball. So I took off the top few to find a cleaner one, and she walked up to me to make sure everything was alright. And I told her in the most awkward, congested way possible that there was a hairball in one and I had been looking for a clean one, and then pretty much just walked away from the area. I was sick, okay. I didn't care about acting like a functional human being. 

Anyway, I really appreciated her wishing me to feel well. We all get sick. I have been blessed enough to live a comparatively healthy life so far. That could change in an instant, I know. But so far, most of my illnesses have comprised of stuffy noses and fevers that clear after a few days. Headaches that go away. I remember throwing up in class in the 4th grade, right on the carpet, and you could see my breakfast in it. Super gross. And I'm sure my parents remember much more vomiting, runny noses, headaches, and fevers in their little girl as grew. But I see people every day who are younger and older than myself struggling with illness and despair, and I know that my little sickness was nothing compared to that. It does make me appreciate what I have, because I know health can change in a moment.

And today I have felt so much better. I have hardly been congested, have been able to breath through my nose, don't feel dizzy when I stand, and can talk without sounding like a scary villain dude in a movie. So tonight I finally felt well enough to rejoin the rest of the world, and I actually saw people. As I was driving, I saw that the moon was rising, and oh my goodness, I remembered how beautiful the world can be.

I have been so isolated in my little sick world, I truly forgot what it was like outside. What I mean is this: I knew what was outside, but I had forgotten what it was like. I had forgotten that it could be so lovely. God really is an artist.

As I was driving, the moon came into view straight ahead of me. It was still early in the night, and the sky was not fully darkened. The moon was enormous, and it was sitting on the top of the mountain in front of me. Just perched right on top of it. And I know that it was not the biggest moon that has ever been seen, and I know that the mountains here are not the biggest mountains in the world. But to see that big moon just resting on top was mesmerizing. 

I don't have a photograph to post. I was driving. That's just a bad idea.

Moon Mountain tonight (I just gave it that name, believe it or not)

I mean, it was really lovely. And that big moon gave off a lot of light. So much light that I didn't really get to see the meteor shower that is supposed to be going on tonight. But I didn't really look for any shooting stars, because I couldn't think about anything outside except that moon sitting on that mountain. It was saying, "welcome back to the world."

Recalling memories about something that doesn't even apply to me yet.

AHA! I have lured to this blog post, which you didn't know was going to be about weddings! I was spending some time thinking of memories I have of being a kid. And I came across one memory that just makes me laugh, which I will detail below. 

So I think that little kids sometimes just know what's important. I absolutely believe that children need guidance, good role models, teachers, and a fabulous support system. But somewhere deep down, kids just put things into serious perspective. For example: weddings.

I was a kid once. I was totally adorable. I grew up, which is unfortunate. But once upon a time, I was totally adorable. And back then, in my preschool days, I attended a fabulous daycare. I had a bunch of great friends with great imaginations, and we totally understood what life was all about. One of our favorite games to play on the playground was what I like to call "Hey, You Two, Get Married"

So we would all gather around the playground jungle gym, and two people would get married. 

Young Carolyn Kate on her wedding day.

The rest of us were just the guests, and it was quite an event. The playground was the type that had small, smooth pebbles on the ground as some sort of odd, rocky cushion for when a child fell down. Those pebbles were the perfect prop for us, the guests. Because we were spectators, we needed popcorn. And so we would use the bottoms of our shirts as bowls to carry little pebbles in, and would pretend to eat them as the ceremony was performed. After the ceremony was completed, we all celebrated by running around and playing games. 

Basically, back in those good old days, this was all that was needed to get married: two willing people, loved ones to rejoice for them, and a venue. Of course, those marriages were just pretend, and in no way valid or real. But the simplicity and fun of those weddings would be a great thing for our society. 

Now, I am not married. I want to get married, but to the right person. I'm not in a hurry to get married. I'm in my mid-twenties. To some people, that is old. To some people, that is young. To me, it doesn't matter how old I am because I am what I am and I am not what I am not. I'm not planning my future wedding, and I'm not obsessed with wedding things. 

But I do desire to get married one day and I do desire to have a nice wedding. I want a white dress, flowers, and bridesmaids. I want a cake and lovely ceremony. But these days, where weddings on average cost tens of thousands of dollars in the United States, and the ceremony and reception have become about entertaining other people rather than about the commitment between a man and woman and God, those of us who have yet to get married could learn a little bit from those kids on the playground. I have had some friends get married or who are getting married who I do believe have their priorities in a good order, and they have made me really respect them because of that. 

First: two willing people.

How to motivate men to take up running as a form of exercise.

This part, in general, is pretty well adhered to in the United States in a general sense. It is a general rule that people who get married are willing to get married. But I want to take the point even further than that, to the point where the bride and groom are two people who are willing to abide by the vows they made before God. I understand that there are things which happen in life that make this difficult or even impossible, and I have no judgmental thoughts toward those situations. However, it seems as though many people get married without understanding what a vow is, or what the vows they are making mean. As someone who desires a marriage that honors God one day, it makes me sad and even scared to see how lightly marriage is taken by many people. 

Second: loved ones to rejoice for them. Why do weddings always seem to be about impressing those people who aren't entering into a covenant that day? Now, don't get me wrong. I love beautiful ceremonies and exciting receptions as much as anyone else. However, when I watch these wedding shows or see girls I know become stressed about what such and such looks like, or by such and such entertainment for the guests, then it makes me stressed. Why is it such a big deal? Why is it so expensive? Are the guests also getting married that day? No, they are probably not. So the wedding is not about the guests. However, the guests that are there should be people who rejoice for the couple, whether they are actually bored or not. It's a group of witnesses, who love them and encourage them (who also have given them presents, probably). And it is good for them to be entertained (like I said above, we always had popcorn at the playground), but it is not the point of the day.

Third: a venue. So venues have become a big and expensive deal for weddings. Having a beautiful venue for a wedding is understandably important. And because of that, venues are in demand and expensive. And if a person can afford those venues, then I think that is wonderful and I will enjoy their marriage in those venues. However, I know many people cannot afford those venues, and who might feel shamed for their plain wedding, or go into debt to have a more extravagant event. That has got to stop. It's senseless. People who get married are just as married as every other married person, whether their wedding was in a backyard or in a grand ballroom. In fact, God made the most beautiful (and the most affordable) venue in the universe: the great outdoors. You don't even have to decorate it; it is already grand. 

Now, I know I am not married and I might not have a perfect understanding of the wedding process. I hope to one day have a perfect understanding of it as I do hope to get married in the future. And as I said before, I do want a nice wedding. I want it to be fun and I want it to have those very wedding-y qualities. 

However, my grandmother and granddaddy were married many years ago at her family's home. They didn't have much money and couldn't afford anything else. They loved each other and they loved the Lord, and they wanted to get married. But instead of staying apart and saving their hard-earned money for a long time, only to spend their savings on a fancy event to entertain other people, they just got married, She didn't even have a fancy white dress. It didn't make them any less married. And pretty much a million years later, they were married until death parted them. 

A million years, people. Not because they had a wedding. But because they had a marriage.

It's midnight again...

It was close to midnight here, so I decided it was the perfect time to update this blog. That's just the way I am. Of course, I should probably be different since I have work in the morning, but tell that to my brain. Or don't. I can tell you right now that my brain isn't going to listen.

I'm pretty wide awake because I was panicking earlier that I probably ruined my life forever and ever because I spilled water on the laminate floor in the laundry room of my apartment and didn't discover it for about 30 minutes. That is one convoluted sentence. But anyway, I found the water and dried it up, but noticed that the laminate was bubbling. So I did what any normal person would do: assume I had ruined the entire building and called emergency maintenance in case they wanted to come out at 10 pm and save the world. Once I explained the situation (that there was no leak and it was merely water I had spilled) they were pretty much like, "lady, go to sleep."

Except now going to bed is impossible. I am up. I am awake. I had nearly fallen off the edge of the earth and barely escaped. I am not exaggerating at all.

But anyway, that is just exactly why I decided to update y'all on my life. I use y'all exactly as it is intended to be used: you all. Because it always makes me happy to look at the blog's statistics and see that people from all over the world have looked at this. Places I've never been to but would love to visit. Of course, most of the blog's visitors probably accidentally clicked on the link from a search for something else, but I still totally love that. So thanks, y'all.

I have been living in this new city for nearly two months, and it is the most beautiful place I have ever lived. Now, I have only lived in 5 cities, and all are in Alabama. However, Alabama is a very diverse state, which has everything from a coast to mountains. And the latter is precisely my new location.

I have never lived in the mountains. My hometown is fairly hilly, but there aren't mountains there. It's a crater, which is totally cool and nerdy. But now I live in the mountains. There are people who would scoff at Alabama's mountains. They're not as big or grand as some mountains. But they're still mountains. I can tell you that when I drive in the valley to work in the mornings and can see walls of tree-filled earth rising up in front of me, shrouded by mist and early sunlight, it is a big and grand sight. That when I am walking to my car from a restaurant and can look in every direction and see a mountain, it is a big and grand sight. That when I can stand at the top of a mountain and see the tops of houses and valleys full of trees, it is a big and grand sight.

And it is a big and grand idea that God had to create so many beautiful things. I cannot comprehend how many beautiful things there are in this world. I can name some generic things: there are mountains, rivers, oceans, and forests all throughout this world. But the Appalachian mountains are different from the Himalayan mountains. And the Coosa River is different from the Colorado River. And the Atlantic Ocean is different from the Pacific Ocean. And the Redwood forests are different from the Amazon rainforest.

How absolutely amazing an idea. How absolutely artistic and beautiful. And, well, creative. Is not the diversity of this world a testament to God's power, skill, and creativity? It amazes me that every single thing differs on so minute a level that we cannot see it with our naked eyes, but also manifests itself in ways that are so big that we cannot see it all at once. And even with all those differences, everything blends together to function as one world.

How beautiful.

P.S. - My old computer finally decided that after 6 years, it really and truly was not able to function. I have a new computer, so now I don't have to copy and paste "m" while typing. I have never appreciated keyboards so much until now.
m
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That is great.