Sunday column: Best friends

Hollie and I were lucky to find each other at St. Frederick.

There's no one else who could have been my maid of honor.

As the Peach Festival rolls out its inaugural Sunday lineup, I plan to take full advantage of the day's events.
You'll probably see me at the Peach-Eating Contest (observing, not competing) and definitely at the Pet Show with my best friend, Hollie.
Any time Hollie and I have a chance to spend a day together, it feels like old times. We've been friends for 13 years, and our relationship has been one of the best things in my life ever since the day we met.
It was orientation day at my high school; we were both incoming freshmen, and we immediately hit it off. Throughout the four years of high school, we were inseparable. There were several times we even passed ourselves off as sisters.
The thing about having a friendship as tried-and-true as ours is that you see the other person at her best and at her worst, and the other person sees you in those same ways.
My friendship with Hollie hasn't always been hunky-dory. But things have always worked themselves out, and our relationship only gets stronger.
Over the course of the past 13 years, Hollie and I have lived through some especially significant moments, including this abbreviated list:

Mission trips to Mexico
Hollie and I were involved with a youth group throughout high school that took an annual mission trip to one of the most poverty-stricken areas in Mexico. It was a large group of high school kids led by a few adults, including the church's fantastic youth ministers. In Mexico, we would build houses for families who were living in shacks made of any found materials they could scrape together. Although the one-room houses were rustic by our standards, they were mansions to the people we built them for.
We went on several of these mission trips, and each one was an incredibly moving experience. It was one of the only times in my life where I've been in a group of people (and remember, these were high school kids) where there was virtually no pettiness, gossiping or negativity. It was as if we all behaved the way we were truly meant to; we appreciated all the people who were there and the different strengths they brought to the group.
The mission trips not only provided a tremendous service to the Mexican families we were working with, they also opened our eyes to the innumerable gifts and blessings we have in our lives. It's something I'll never forget.

She's a lifesaver, literally
One summer, Hollie and I went on a trip to the beach. In the weeks before the vacation I'd been sick with bronchitis, but I was on the mend. Although I was still using an inhaler to ease my labored breathing, for the most part I felt much better.
Hollie and I spent our days on the beach, both out in the waves and lounging on the sand. For some reason, we decided to swim out to a sandbar we could see in the distance one afternoon. Years of swimming lessons had made us both into strong swimmers, so we had no reservations about the distance. However, there was the small matter of my lingering bronchitis.
About halfway there, I suddenly couldn't breathe. I was not getting any air, and I panicked. I don't remember saying anything to her, but Hollie immediately grabbed me and swam me back to shore, where I desperately puffed away at my inhaler until my constricted lungs decided to re-open.
I don't know how I would have made it if she hadn't been there. So, I guess I owe her my life — which really isn't that bad of a thing.

Traditional milestones
Then there have been the standard milestones in a person's life: proms, graduations, bad break-ups, new jobs, etc. Hollie has been there for them all.
College graduation was particularly important for both of us. We were more than ready to move on to our chosen careers (although neither of us knew what exactly that would be) and put college behind us. I traveled to Dallas for her graduation from Southern Methodist University, and the next weekend, she came here to Ruston for my graduation from Louisiana Tech.
We commiserated through those summer months following graduation in which we'd think murderous thoughts every time we heard the question, "So now what are you going to do?" But then, we both figured it out.

I know that finding a friend like Hollie is a true blessing in my life. I try hard not to take it for granted and to appreciate every memory, every conversation, every photo we've shared. We've seen each other through good times and bad times for the past 13 years, and we've got a lifetime to go.

Accessorizing

While shopping at Target, I couldn't resist getting this $1 bandanna for Casey. You can't really tell in the picture, but it has little strawberries all over it. Very stylish. Other big news in Casey's life this week: She made the switch from puppy food to real dog food. She's a year old now, so it's time for her to start eating like a grown-up. If only she'd act a little more grown up ...

Sunday column: Vacation on my mind

Nick plays in the sand for as long as he can stand it.

Thanks Mom and Dad, for all the great family vacations at the beach!

In spite of all my attempts to control it, my mind has been wandering all week.
Before I can even realize, I’m picturing seagulls winging overhead, feeling hot sand burning my feet and tasting saltwater.
I guess my mind has been on vacation as my body works through the regular daily routine at work and at home.
The beach, to me, is the ultimate vacation. I have my parents to thank for this, because every summer when I was growing up, we took a vacation to the beach. Thinking about it now, as an adult, it was probably the most practical vacation option for our family. We’d pack up a couple of ice chests of food (vacation food was much better than the food we ate at home; it included treats like Lunchables and non-healthy snacks) and bring our beach toys, which served us faithfully year after year. All Mom and Dad had to pay for was gas to and from the beach, our hotel room and a few cheap souvenirs at the end of the trip.
See, the beach was what we did on vacation. We didn’t go to amusement parks or water parks or museums or shopping, we went to the beach — for hours upon end, every day. Thinking back, it’s pretty amazing that playing on the beach was enough to keep all six of us occupied and happy for the entirety of our vacation the decade or so we did this.
The occasional jelly fish sting or sand in the eye was really the only complaint I can remember coming up in all those years.
Sometimes we did mix it up in the summer, with a trip to Disney World here, a week in Hot Springs, Ark., there. But, I think we all agreed that the beach was the best.
That’s why, even once our family vacations dissipated as my siblings and I went off to college and got jobs, every chance I got I’d head for the beach.
Although Pensacola, Fla., was my family’s beach of choice, I’m really not particular when it comes to getting a chance to bake in the sun and watch the tide roll in. Give me Gulf Shores, Ala., South Padre Island, Texas, heck, even Grand Isle and I’m happy.
So when I was planning my wedding last summer, it was a given to me that the honeymoon destination would be the beach. Luckily, my husband agreed (good thing, because I’d already made reservations).
Thoughts of the sand, the waves and the seafood dinners consoled me when my husband dragged me from our wedding reception. I was having so much fun being surrounded by the people I love, I didn’t want our wedding to end. But I knew the next day we’d be beach-bound, so I went willingly as he steered me out the door of the reception hall.
The next morning we woke up early and got on the road. Several hours and one car mishap later (I told you, I have have The Curse of the Vehicle Breakdown), we had arrived. For the last hour of our drive, I had my window rolled down so I could smell the salty, fishy perfume that lingers along the coast.
We checked into the hotel, admired the view from our balcony and headed down to the beach. It was windy, warm and wonderful; I knew the next five days would be pure bliss.
My plans for our vacation included walking along the beach, reading on the beach, getting out in the waves and eating seafood for dinner every night. Although I didn’t run them by him, I thought my husband had similar plans. What else would one do at the beach?
As it turns out, the beach doesn’t actually agree with my husband too well. He’s got this sensitive skin that makes the sun, salt and sand, which I adore, become quite painful after about 30 minutes. So, hours spent languishing on a beach towel at water’s edge wasn’t his idea of heaven.
Like any newlywed couple, we compromised. After all, our honeymoon was meant to be enjoyed by both of us. We relaxed in the shade of our balcony while still being able to take in the full ocean view. We took walks on the beach at sunset, when the sun wasn’t as intense. One thing we did not have to compromise on, however, was the seafood. That was an indulgence we both took full advantage of.
In the short amount of time that I’ve been married, I’ve learned something nearly every day. On our honeymoon, I learned my first lesson — the next time we take a vacation, I need to let my husband actively participate in the planning process.

Meet the artist

Tonight was the gallery opening at ThousandWords, featuring photographs by Julie Scalfano! She did great, and her pictures were definitely the best in the gallery (I'm not prejudiced or anything). She was poised and happy and I think she even enjoyed herself!
Julie also was featured in a story about the gallery opening in the Ruston Daily Leader, as well as on this blog.
She rocks!

I can't stop thinking about ...

The beach! I want to go on a beach vacation so badly I can almost feel the sand crunching in between my teeth! This is a scene from our honeymoon last August. I was happy as a clam (no pun intended) out on the beach all day, but Nick wasn't quite as thrilled to be out in the sun, sand and heat.
At this point, heck, I'd settle for a stay-cation at home. I just need some time off! But nothing could beat baking on the beach for a few days with a good book.

Happy Birthday Carolyn!

I think this was her seventh birthday (1992) in Baton Rouge. What a fantastic cake! (Check the previous post to see how far I have to go when it comes to cake decorating.)

Guess whose birthday? The girl with the special dalmatian overalls, that's who! I know the outfit and the cake were made with love. This was birthday #8, 1993.

Have a great day sis! We love you!

Bragging rights

This is one of Julie's photos selected for the art show.

It's official: My baby sister Julie is a bona fide artist! She was recently selected as a featured artist for an upcoming show at a local gallery. Five of her photographs were chosen for the show. To see them all, click here.
The opening reception is Saturday and we'll all be there. Congratulations Julie!

Happy Birthday Nick!

It may not be the prettiest German Chocolate Cake ever, but it was made with love! (I suppose it's obvious how it earned the nickname "The Double Whopper.")

Wearing his new birthday T-shirt to open his present. Chicka Chicka Yeah! (If you haven't seen Superbad, go rent it right now!)

What every man needs: A ginormous remote control!

Sunday column: Lessons from Dad

The good old days, before those other kids ruined all my fun.

August 4, 2007

My dad is so proud of my brother, my two sisters and me that it really can be embarrassing. Through the years, he's done and said many, many things that have caused us to turn varying shades of red. For example, at age 21, when I was hired for my first newspaper job, Dad told everyone I was editor of the paper. Thanks Dad, but I had quite a bit of ladder-climbing to do before I could claim that title.
It's really not such a bad thing, though, to have a father who's proud of you. I thank my lucky stars today and every day that he's been here to embarrass us for our whole lives.
In between the moments in which we've hung our heads as he rambles on about some silly family news item, I know we've all learned a lot from Dad. Here are a few gems I know will serve me for the rest of my life.

Family comes first.
With four kids, all of whom have been heavily involved in various lessons and extracurricular activities, Dad never missed a game, a recital or a performance. We could always count on him to be there, video camera in hand (although the life of the battery inside the camera was always questionable).
Dad rarely worked late when we were young, and we always looked for him to walk through the front door right around 5 p.m. He was fortunate to have a career that allowed him to work such regular hours and that provided flexibility when he needed it.
One company he worked for transferred him from Louisiana to an office in South Carolina. He packed up our young family and we moved there, but we didn't stay long. With all of our extended family based in Louisiana, Dad wanted to move back home. And we did, because nothing is more important than family.

You can find anything at Sam's Club.
The running joke in our family is that no matter what city or state he's in at any given moment, Dad can — and will — find a Sam's Club and shop there. This is a man who wouldn't go to the mall if his life depended on it, but he always finds something to buy at Sam's.
Maybe back when there were six people living in his house, it made sense to buy an enormous jug of laundry detergent and the world's biggest box of Cheerios. But even now that Mom and Dad are officially empty-nesters, he can't seem to stop himself from buying in bulk.
It could be that Sam's Club minimalist interior design or the bank of giant flat-screen TVs that greet you when you walk in that appeal to Dad. All I know is, anytime I've needed anything — a computer, tires, washer and dryer, mattress, dog food, toilet paper, clothes — Dad's ready to head for Sam's.

Make yourself available to the people you love.
I think I'm finally beginning to accept the fact that I might be slightly accident-prone. I've written before about my on-the-road mishaps, and those types of inconveniences and problems are not limited to my vehicle. Through the years I've had trouble with plumbing, yard work, finances, career moves, the list goes on. There's always been one reliable solution to these situations — call Dad.
Dad always answers his cell phone, even though I'm sure by now he realizes it's probably some member of his family calling for help with something. After all these years of practice, he's honed his problem-solving skills to the point where 75 percent of the time, he can diagnose and fix whatever it is over the phone. No hands-on work required. The other 25 percent of the time, after a close inspection and provided the right tools, he's got things as good as new before you know it.
I've learned plenty of things the hard way with Dad's help, and thank goodness he's always been available to provide it.

Always give yourself options.
Dad likes to remind us, and himself, that we always have options. We're never locked into any specific situation without an escape route. Even though our options may not always be the most attractive or the most practical, they do exist. This is important to remember in life, when it's so easy to get swept into doing something that doesn't feel right or clearly isn't working for you.
Dad has taught us to speak up and ask questions. He challenges us to truly weigh all of our options, even those that we may be inclined to disregard.

There's nothing wrong with a "to me, from me" gift.
Several years ago, a wrapped present showed up under my parents' Christmas tree with a gift tag that read "to me, from me." When it was time to open gifts, we worked our way through everything under the tree until we came to that peculiar gift. The six of us looked at each other to see who would claim it. Finally, Dad reached for the box and started unwrapping. It was his "to me, from me" present.
In the years since, that same gift tag has been attached to all kinds of different things — Dad's gifts to himself.
Then, two years ago, I got bold and followed his lead. I bought myself some fantastic gold earrings and called them my "to me, from me" gift. Nothing wrong with that at all.

You know you're getting old when ...

Your husband borrows your reading glasses.

Mushy stuff

Back when I first met Nick, one of the things that impressed me about him was that he had a welcome mat at the front door of his bachelor pad apartment. I thought it was cute. And now, we've got our welcome mat. Awww.

Differences

I thought this was telling: Yesterday, for an afternoon snack I got a cafe au lait and a cup of granola. For his afternoon snack, Nick got a Coke and a bag of Doritos.
We both got our caffine and carb fix, but in different ways.

Coming Sunday

Clearly, I'm a fan of teasers. I try to use them as often as possible in the paper (Gannett trained me well), and why not work them into the blog from time to time? Check back Sunday for good stuff on Fathers Day.

It's not dead, yet

So, to top off our weekend of drama, it's possible that I may have killed Nick's cell phone. In my constant effort to be a good wife, I washed a load of laundry Sunday afternoon that included some of his pants. I checked the pockets! I did — I rescued a set of keys. But the thing is, he wears these pants with lots of cargo pockets, and I made the honest mistake of not checking every single pocket. When I went to change the laundry over from washer to dryer, I discovered his wallet in the bottom of the washer. Then, once I turned on the dryer I heard an unusual clunking noise. Lo and behold, it was his cell phone. Oops.
I immediately googled "wet cell phone" and found a wealth of tips and suggestions for reviving a wet cell phone. As a side note, I also amused myself by reading about all the stupid things people have done to get their cell phones wet. See for yourself here.
I also got on the phone with the electrical engineer who helped bail me out in an emergency situation the previous day, who recommended I take it apart and set it in the sun to dry for several days. Which I am doing. But first, I stuck it in a bowl of rice, which I heard would help absorb some of the moisture.
The phone hasn't been pronounced dead yet — I still have hope! But it is possible that, because I told Nick not to get the cell phone insurance, the new cell phone that I have coming will be delayed yet again so his can be replaced. Bummer.

Edited To Add: I'm beginning to think I should create a new blog label, "Mishaps." I'm starting to accumulate quite a collection. But for now, I think I'll hold off.

Tire trauma

Nick: Master of the tire change

It's amazing I drove from Ruston to Baton Rouge to Alexandria on this tire without having a blowout. Guardian angels do exist!

You know, just as soon as I write all about my car problems, I have another episode. Guess I cursed myself.
I knew something was wrong when my car sounded like a helicopter on the inside when Mom and I were driving from Baton Rouge to Alexandria on Saturday afternoon. It took a couple of tire changes and the help of the best brother in the world (who I previously "slandered" by saying he wrecked my car, which he did, but not as badly as I made it sound) before we found the problem. Thank goodness we did, though, or we wouldn't have made it home without major drama.
Nick had a gut feeling that we needed to change out that tire, but we didn't get around to it before the weekend of driving. That's the last time we postpone acting on a gut feeling.

By all accounts, the baby shower was a success. And, the food was a hit! Here's Ginny, Lindsay, Tara and I before the big event.

Sunday column: Most important day

What was the most important day of your life?
I read that question somewhere recently, and it really got me thinking.
This is not about the best day of your life or the worst day of your life, but the most important day.
I've had this question on my mind for a week, and I still haven't been able to narrow down the single most important day of my life. But, I did come up with a list of strong contenders.

The first day of high school
By no means was my first day of high school the best day of my life, but it does rank high on the list of important days. At freshman orientation on that first day, I met the girl who would become my very best friend. For more than a decade we've been loyal, stuck-like-glue friends, even during the times when we didn't even really like each other. We've gone through good, bad and really bad times together — and some really good times, too.
There's nothing better than a true friend who you know you can count on and be honest with. She was there on that first day of high school, at my college graduation, my wedding day and all the ordinary and extraordinary days in between. And I've been there for her. Always will be.

The day my family moved from Baton Rouge to Monroe
Again, this was not a particularly good day in my life, but it was important because of the things I learned about myself. After having lived in the "big city" for 13 years and finally carving out my niche at a huge elementary school, I was uprooted and moved a couple hundred miles north to Monroe. I'd never before in my life experienced such a change, and I had to learn how to adapt.
Everything in Monroe was smaller: The six of us moved from a big, two-story house into a cramped apartment for several months. My school had one section per grade level, as opposed to four sections per grade at the Baton Rouge school. The smaller city seemed to offer much less to do than where we'd come from.
But my family rallied together, and we made it work until it felt like home. It took a long time, but it did happen.

The day I got married
I know, I know, it's such a cliché to say your wedding day is the most important day in your life. But think about it … Shouldn't the day that you pledge your eternal love and life to another person be pretty important? Well, it was for me. It was also one of the best days of my life. It was so good, in fact, that I cried when it was over because I didn't want the day to end.

The day my husband found the right doctor
Even back before he was my husband, Nick wasn't 100 percent well. I saw him go to doctors and try medication that didn't make him feel better or do what it was supposed to do. The day he found the right doctor and the right medication was so important because it changed both of our lives. He looked, felt and acted better than I'd ever seen him, and I was so happy and thankful that he was no longer suffering. A healthy husband is a good husband.

Those four days are some of the most important so far in my life. I still don't feel like I could definitively choose just one. Maybe that's because that all-important day hasn't happened yet.

Baby shower

Lindsay's bridal shower in Thibodaux, September 2006

So, not that long ago I was planning a wedding shower for a friend, and now it's already time for her baby shower! Mom and I are in charge of the food, so here's the menu:

Fruit dip with fruit
5 layer cherry dessert with cookie dippers
Pineapple-cream cheese sandwiches on raisin bread
Cha-cha chicken salad with croissants and crackers
Deviled eggs
Pasta salad with asparagus, basil and tomatoes
Meatballs
Pigs in a blanket
Oreo and Nutter Butter truffle balls
Black bean dip with chips
Punch
Cake

Something for everyone, and no one should go hungry! The shower is in Baton Rouge, and then Mom and I will dash off to Alexandria, where we'll meet Nick, Dad and the rest of the family for a wedding. Our priest here at St. Thomas Aquinas is saying the wedding Mass for Stacy and Randy (fellow Louisiana Tech grads) at St. Francis Xavier Cathedral in Alexandria, where cousin Elizabeth also got married.

The Scalfano girls at Elizabeth's wedding.

Hey studs! Nick and Phillip at the reception.

So, it should be an action-packed weekend filled with fun and food. Let's just pray for safe travel and good weather.

New project

Caddy is very interested in "helping" with my newest cross-stitch project. As you can see, she parks herself inches from where I'm trying to work and then proceeds to eye my thread until the moment she decides to strike with her paw. It's really very helpful and not at all annoying (yeah, right).

Happy flowers and sprouts

Here are the happy flowers that greet Nick and I every day at the front door.

Here are Nick's sprouts. He's got cherry tomatoes, two types of peppers and some lettuce. The only problem is that, except for the lettuce, we can't remember which is which!

Sunday column: Car troubles

Despite the ever-increasing cost of gas, I know there are many people out there who will refuse to sacrifice their summer vacations this year. If you’ve got your heart set on the sugar white beaches of Florida, the mountains of Tennessee or the water parks of Texas, don’t give it up without a fight. Here’s a tip: Spend a little less on your vacation wardrobe and pack an ice chest of food so you won’t have to eat out for every meal, that way you can still afford the trip you’ve been anticipating.
Heaven knows I’ve gone to some great lengths just so I can leave the familiar sights and sounds of home in the dust for a week or so. Sometimes, you just need to get out of town, and nothing is going to stop you.
While you may think that nothing can stop you, actually, there is one small detail that must work in your favor in order to take a successful vacation. That would be your car. If you car can’t make it to the beach, neither can you. I’m speaking from experience here.
For some reason, despite the fact that my dad is Mr. Fix-It, in the relatively short amount of time that I’ve been driving I seem to have had more vehicle mishaps than the average driver.
It’s not that I’m an unsafe driver, mind you, I’m just an unlucky driver. Allow me to illustrate my point.
A few years ago, my best friend and I planned a much-deserved trip to Gulf Shores, Ala. We had it all figured out: She’d fly into Lafayette (where I was living) from Chicago (where she was living) and the next day, we’d load up my car and head for the beach. Simple enough, right? Maybe not.
She made it safely to Lafayette, and we decided to swing by Target to pick up a few last-minute necessities (margarita mix, sunscreen, snacks, etc.) We were in my car, sunroof open, radio up, cruising down the road when all of a sudden, my car lurches and smoke starts billowing out from underneath the hood. I notice my engine temperature gauge is deep in the red — not a good sign.
I managed to pull into a parking lot and call AAA. An hour later, a tow truck arrives and I watch with a heavy heart as my car is hooked up. After dropping it off at a repair shop, which was closed, my friend and I look at each other and wonder, “OK, now what?”
Since we were both determined to get to the beach, the only logical thing to do was to rent a car. We took a cab to the airport, which was the only place in town that was still renting cars at that late hour.
Bright and early the next morning, we head back to the repair shop to find out the diagnosis.
“Ma'am, you’ve got a hole in your radiator,” the repairman said, dryly.
“How long will it take to fix it?” I asked, feverishly trying to calculate repair time, drive time and hotel check-in time in my head.
Let’s just say his response was not to my satisfaction. There was no way my car would be fixed in time for us to make it to the beach.
All we could do was load up the rental car and come to terms with the fact that our credit card debt would be higher than we’d planned, because nothing was going to stop us from getting to the beach.
In the end, it was a fantastic vacation, and I guess the whole radiator debacle gives the story a little more drama. But, I definitely could have lived without it.
On a different vacation, I managed to have bad car luck even when I wasn’t even driving my car (go figure).
Some friends and I packed into a Jeep Cherokee (not mine) for a road trip from Louisiana to Colorado. I left my car safely parked in my parents’ driveway for the duration of the trip. Or, so I thought.
My younger brother somehow got his hands on my keys (thanks Mom and Dad) and took my car out for a drive. I was relaxing in a mountain-top cabin in Colorado when my cell phone rings and my dad says, “Emily, I’ve got something to tell you.”
My brother had wrecked my car. And this was no fender-bender, it was an honest-to-goodness wreck, on the interstate. Thankfully, there were no serious injuries, but my car was in bad shape.
You know, I still haven’t figured out a way to get my brother back for that one ...
Between those two major mishaps, there have been various and sundry other breakdowns, accidents and inconveniences. At this point, I figure all I can do about it is try to remain calm, and never go anywhere without my trusty AAA card.