remembering mamaw mc

Mamaw's funeral was a week ago tomorrow. It was a warm and windy Tuesday - very appropriate for my tiny Floridian grandmother. At 83, she lived a long and purposeful life as a devoted daughter, mother, grandmother, friend, and wife. When her role as a wife ended three years ago, she sorely missed her other half every day. I can only imagine the reunion.

Last week was a reminder that our days with the Greatest Generation are numbered. That it takes intentionality to learn from the members whose formative years look so very different from our own. I've obviously thought a lot about Mamaw this passed week. Not just the sweet memories I have of her (though I was created with an extra dose of emotionally-charged nostalgia), but how I could honor her memory by simply being more like her.

I think about her when I choose to put the lighter back in its place after lighting a candle instead of leaving it on the nearest surface. Or when I rinse and reuse a butter container or when I follow a recipe to the T. I know I'll always remember her when I see blueberries or tea cakes - the two things she'd fill those reused, half-gallon butter tubs with for our trips back to college. Or when I see blue hydrangeas like the ones she grew on an astonishingly large bush in her backyard.

Our week in Louisiana was bittersweet, of course. Plenty of tears over our loss as well as laughter when recalling all of Mamaw's lovable quirks. When we were all about to make our way back to Alabama and South Carolina, my sweet parents thanked us for being there, reminding us that we did it again - we bonded together and took care of business. The McMahone way.

I know Mamaw Mc would be proud.

house update

I've had some [very thoughtful] questions about the house progress and thought I'd break the blog silence for a quick update! These builders - they move fast, y'all. Granted, it is a very pre-packaged operation. We have found it to be an exciting process that is a great fit for a starter home. Though I'm going to really miss our little 1920s house and all its character, I have big plans for giving our new builder-grade home our own personal touches. And by plans I mean amateur sketches of each room on graph paper [I am my father's daughter] with a list of room colors and purchases below. Welcome to my crazy side.

Here are a few pictures of some of the details I'm most excited about:

If the HOA allows it, this door won't be white for long!

I can't walk past this without thinking about what fabric I'm going to cover the cushion for this with. Crazy nesting brain.

Our fireplace that will [hopefully] soon be surrounded by pretty stones.

First glimpse of the pretty floors complete with dusty workmen footprints. Thankful for those workmen!

Kitchen cabinets and counters are done and waiting to be lined. Dreading, dreading, dreading.

Upgraded the stove so we could be cooking with gas. Mamaw will be so proud.

Waiting for touch ups, obviously.

A pretty arch between our bedroom and sitting room [which, hilariously enough, we have no furniture for].

A tub big enough for my long legs. Complete with a large picture window that will need blinds STAT.

That's us!

That's us, too!

Sprinklers and sod and landscaping happened this week. Always changing!

There she is! Guest room will be done ASAP for all of you long-distance loved ones. Start planning!

on 2x4s and community and anticipation

These days one of us makes a daily builder-hovering trip to the house site. Some days it ends with pure excitement, some days with an email to the builder explaining that that cable jack is in the absolutely wrong place. But when I walk our dust-covered floors, turning in circles trying to figure out what furniture will go where and what we'll need to fill in the holes, I don't picture the house photo-ready, but [hopefully] filled with people to share life with.

After almost a year of several unknowns, it's as if we've come to the top of the hill and can begin to see what is ahead. Or at least anticipate it - we've definitely learned that you never know what the Lord has planned. This season has been a beautifully trying one that has strengthened our marriage and taught us a lot about our little plans compared to God's big picture and how He's intricately aware of both. After these months, I'm happy to see its end only because it is replaced with the start of a new community in Lexington, South Carolina. And since we know this new house and community is a blessing of a gift from the Lord, we found it fitting to record those sentiments on our [pre-Sheetrock] walls.

[Got ahead of myself and left out a couple words of this important verse. Full text here.]

[This one appropriately went above the dishwasher.]

I guess you could say that I have high hopes for this first home of ours. That it would be a place where friends will feel comfortable, where stories will be told, where those soul-binding similarities are discovered. I hope it can be a spot for dinner parties and Sunday school get-togethers and DNow weekends and baby showers. I want it to be a place where parents and siblings and [one day] cousins and out-of-town friends will fill all the available sleep spots. Where friends know they can pour themselves a glass of tea without asking. Where people can be recharged over coffee and dessert. Where successes can be celebrated and burdens be carried.

We are thankful for new beginnings [even if we didn't choose them] and for the buds of friendships that we hope and anticipate to bloom into more vibrant ones. Until they discover how weird we are. Mostly kidding.

And I hope that some of that blossoming happens around our supper table.

my new favorite apps [part two]

With that unavoidable Spring rush coming, highlighted by having [finally and thankfully] joined a church, an exciting new opportunity with Fern Studio, several weekend trips for various weddings and showers and birthdays, and this little project of building a house, this pen and paper loyalist has finally gone digital. I didn't even purchase a 2013 planner, I'm ashamed to say.

A while back, I shared my overall favorite apps. Part two consists of those that just seem to make life a little easier.

Wunderlist: What I finally settled on after many other options including the iPhone's Notes and Reminders. I love a good check box!

Pocket: A place to store all those must-read-when-there's-time articles. Sounds like one of those things that you could just use Pinterest for, but it's not. Just trust me. And the tags are super helpful.

Mailbox: Obviously, I don't know if this actually will be helpful or not, but I've heard good things. Originally I predicted that'd I'd get through the line by 2017 seeing how I was number 149,798 a week ago. But it's picked up a little since then. Maybe this week is my week.

WedHappy: This is for you, brides-to-be, MOHs, and MOBs. I downloaded this after beginning to help my dear friend Mandy coordinate her wedding. The only down side is is that you have a limited number of custom tasks you can add before having to upgrade. If I was the bride and having to do all that her and her MOB are doing, you bet I'd be upgrading. It's simple and smart and I love how you can connect the vendors to your contacts. The easier to nag you with, my dear.

Simple Joys: Last but [obviously] not least is a new favorite devo app with daily excerpts from Piper books. I'm probably the last person to know about this, but, just in case, there you go. It is really great.

There you have it. But remember:

daddy turns sixty

I have a few fleeting memories of my dad's surprise 40th birthday party. I was a few days away from four years old and Biscuit, our Shih Tzu, was brand new and had to stay in the bottom half of a tiny cardboard box in the corner of the room. But I remember lots of loved ones and lots of appreciation for Don McMahone's life.

For the big 5-0 I'm pretty sure we went out to dinner and took him shopping for a new recliner.

Which obviously meant that year sixty called for a very special celebration for someone who deserves the biggest party every single year. Or possibly every month.
Between five courses of choices like espresso-cumin rubbed chicken and honeycrisp apple rosemary sorbet and Argentine short ribs over roasted garlic polenta, we talked about what Daddy hoped to accomplish in his next ten years. We talked about the numerous close calls he experienced as a young and adventurous boy [e.g. climbing ten-story-tall water towers and plenty of cotton mouth run ins].

And after a final course of bread pudding and bananas foster, Moll and I shared a surprise toast – good and teary, of course.

Happy 60th Birthday, Daddy.

It seems nearly impossible to put into words the thanks and appreciation that this milestone birthday deserves, but we will, as you have always taught us, do our best.

We've gained so much from you. Like why to look both ways on a one way street, how to rig a dripping faucet with a shoestring, and how to shoot a gun and not miss. One of us even got your good looks.

From you we've learned the importance of hardwoods over pines, a strong tennis backhand, and a well-built fire. Of efficiently shaped dinner plates, a cup with a good handle, and never missing a historical marker.

Not to mention all of life's basic necessities - like how to drive and change a tire.

And because of you we have unique loves of house plans and residential construction zones, of meteor showers, and of flying squirrels.

We've always known that if there was a project you could build it, a task you could complete it, and a problem you could fix it.

Besides teaching us what you love, you've given an astounding amount of your time for us too. For dance recitals and choir performances and football halftimes. For science fair projects and multiplication tables.

You are our provider of senior trip funds and overpriced prom dresses and college degrees and wedding expenses.

Better yet, you've provided us with a daily example of the person we want to become and, more importantly, the person we wanted to marry.

That person is a fiercely loyal spouse, a hard worker, a non-worrier, someone of unwavering character, and the best Pops there ever will be.

It's someone who gave us a foundation of steel in a fragile world. Someone who made us feel like we had unmeasurable worth and potential. And, when the time came, it's someone who gave our husbands the perfect balance of a whole lot of love, plenty of advice, and a little bit of fear.

So here is to sixty years of life that have made all of us better spouses, better children, better parents, better church members, better employees, and better friends.

We love you!