Christmas 2008, Volume 3 (Yes, I know it's almost March.)

Okay, this isn't really for my Legion of Readers. I'm not finishing out 2008 for you, my friends. It's for me. All me. I just CAN'T not finish it. It's a thing I have. My sister has encouraged me to let it go and move on. Impossible. So here goes . . .

On the afternoon of Christmas Day, we all spent some time at Brian's (my brother) and Kelly's house. We snacked and drank coffee, but the highlight was Guitar Hero World Tour. We, including my parents, rocked.

Next we all headed to Georgia for some more holiday relaxation and cousin-mania: my parents and siblings and their families and Tony and the kids and me. It really was a whole lot of hanging out, eating, putting together puzzles, playing games, watching movies, and catching up.

Two peas in a pod . . .

The whole gang of cousins one night at dinner . . .

We did a little laundry . . .

My wonderful parents. Don't they look relaxed . . . ? :-)

We all went to dinner at a Mexican restaurant one night and snapped a whole bunch of shots. Here are Mom and Dad with all their grands, and a great end-of-the-year pic of our little flock of five.

And there you have it. Christmas 2008. Done. Blogged. Thank you, and good night.

Just Checking

Wanted to make sure my blog is still here.

Uh huh. Here it is. Poor little thing. Is there such a thing as a delinquent blogger?

Mama still loves you, honey. Don't get a complex. I'll be back soon.

Christmas 2008, Volume 2 (Yes, I know it's almost February.)

Well, I suppose in order to fully embrace 2009 on my blog, I should fully release 2008. By "release" I mean, of course, finish blogging about the end-of-the-year happenings in our family. I could just move on and not try in any way to recapture those moments for my Legion of Readers. But the truth is, it would really bug me. I would feel somehow incomplete, as though I had blatantly shirked some crucial duties.

So what follows is a whirlwind pictoral (and somewhat editorial) account of December 2008.

Here are the Byrd and Coats kids at our annual Byrd/Coats/Becky Christmas gathering. We ate, we laughed, we exchanged gifts. This tradition began before our children were born, and the Coats' oldest was only three months. That was in 1995. I don't think we've missed a Christmas since.

Later we were off to Cleveland, Tennessee, to spend Christmas with my Dad's extended family. While we were there, we toured the newly completed School of Religion building at the Lee University Campus. I blogged about this building last August and included a picture of Dad and me in the main lobby when it was all still under construction. It turned out so beautifully, and the "main attraction" of the huge structure is a beautiful wood-paneled reading room named for my late grandfather, Charles W. Conn. He was the president of the school for many years when I was a child, and later he became the denomination's official historian. This reading room boasts a sizeable collection of books from Granddaddy's personal library, as well as the libraries of several other scholars and ministers who are somehow deeply connected with Lee, including my other grandfather, the late M.G. McLuhan ("Popsie").

I gotta say, it was an emotional visit for me. As soon as we walked into the room, I spotted the section of Popsie's books. I went to them and slid my fingertips across their spines and thought of how many times he must have read them, leafed through them, admired them on his own shelves. The tears came almost immediately. I did the same thing with Granddaddy's books, and thought about how very blessed I am to have had two such wonderful men in my life. They were diligent scholars, humble gentlemen, and loving grandfathers. Most importanly, though, they were seekers of Truth and, therefore, dedicated followers of Christ. So although I'm thankful for so much that they gave me ~ poems written just for me, the Bible I received for my high school graduation, the photo of Lake Windemere, the personalized Swiss army knife that is in my purse as I type ~ the heritage of faith is most precious.

On Christmas Eve, we all ate dinner together and enjoyed our own family entertainment. Cousins of all ages sang or played instruments, and the Byrd kids came up with a particularly special rendition of "Silent Night". Caroline sang, Ellis read Scripture in between verses, and Gillian . . . well, Gillian danced. Sort of. She was adorable, if not well choreographed. Or rehearsed. Or adequately prepared in any way. Sometimes, it's enough to be six and cute.

On Christmas morning, the whole family gathered at what used to be my grandfather's home and celebrated in our traditional Conn family fashion. We began with all the kiddies walking down the stairs, youngest to oldest, as the adults took pictures and video and sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas". Our family has literally been doing this for about a half century, I think, and I've seen pictures of my dad and his siblings (he had eleven of those) engaging in this Christmas morning ritual.

Next was the gift extravaganza, and it was an unwrapping free-for-all, as it should be. Paper and bows went flying and there was plenty of delighted squealing. And of course, there was a LOT of food. We sat around the house eating and drinking coffee and catching up with family. All of the usual wonderful Christmas stuff. I think I could do that every weekend. I'm not kidding. Here are Gillian and cousin Lorne on the couch, Ellis with a brand new LEGO set, and Caroline with cousin Grace, displaying their new pink monster glove thingies.

I'm so sorry. Did I say "whirlwind"? Clearly I meant "marathon". And now it's dark outside and my family is hungry. Looks like there's going to have to be a Volume 3, gang. Until then . . .

Lucky Shot

How is it possible to take countless posed and planned shots with one's camera (a pretty nice camera) and they turn out "okay", and then you snap off the last shot on the roll in the Target parking lot before you drag your kiddies inside to drop off the film, and THAT'S the one that turns out to be the best one on the roll??? HUH????!!!! HOW CAN THAT BE??????

Well, somehow it can. Here's the proof:


And another thing. I know I'm still living in a previous photographic era. I mean, sure, places like Target will still develop film for those of us who are still sadly attached to our "old school" cameras, but that doesn't make the 35mm crowd any more mainstream. I have a Canon Rebel-G. NOT the digital kind. But it's still a good camera, and I'm too cheap to replace it with its digital counterpart. So although I must sheepishly shake my head at children at birthday parties when they want to see the picture the second after I've taken it, and although I must apologetically announce that I only have howevermany shots left on the roll when taking a series of photos at some family gathering, and although I have to actually purchase rolls of film and wait who knows how long to see my photographic masterpieces . . . I still like my camera.

BUT, dear Legion, do you REALLY understand just how archaic film cameras are? Well let me tell you. It so happens that one of our 4th grade vocabulary words this past week was negatives. We're reading a very cool story about the first guy ever to take microscopic photographs of snowflakes. That word is in the story, and we're also supposed to use it to teach about words that have more than one meaning. So imagine me standing in front of my 4th graders, trusty teacher's edition in hand, pointing out the word negatives, asking if anyone knows what they are. Of course, several hands went up, and attempts were made to explain that negatives are the opposite of positives. That was good. We were on the right track.

Until I said something like,
"Now what is another definition for this word, class . . .?"

"Something completely different . . .?"

"Has nothing to do with positives . . ."

"Here's a hint: photographs . . . "

"You know, when you go get your pictures developed, and in the packet with the pictures there are those other things . . . ? You know? . . . Huh? . . . Anyone? . . . Anyone?"


"Beuller?"

Nothin' but blank stares, y'all. Hardly a clue among 'em, except for one kid who referred to them as "those brown things you hold up to the light".

And then it hit me: These people have no idea what I'm talking about. "Get your pictures developed? What's THAT?" They don't know what film negatives are, BECAUSE THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT FILM IS!!!!!!!

It was a sad moment for Mrs. Byrd.

Sidebar: Kinda felt like the time I was humming the tune to "Happy Days" to my younger cousin (many years ago, I might add), and when I was shocked she didn't recognize it, I told her, "C'mon! It's Happy Days! You know!" And she had no idea what I was talking about AND incinuated that a show called Happy Days with a character named Fonzie might be a little weird. I was rendered speechless by her irreverence.

So there you have it. It's a digital age, and your average 10-year-old doesn't know there was anything before this.

But I still like my camera . . . and the random parking lot shots it takes so beautifully.

Christmas 2008, Volume 1

I suppose the best way to share photos and thoughts from this Christmas season is in installments. After all, I'm still experiencing it. We're on vacation in Georgia right now with my side of the family, so we're still in the midst of our holiday extravaganza.

So I'll begin with pictures from the MorningStar Church Christmas Mixer and 3rd Annual Santa's Softball Spectacular. Catchy little name, huh? Anyway, our friend Kim Durham was there taking random shots (in between cheering for her hubby Jerry on Tony's winning team, of course), and she captured some really great pics.

Catching Up

It's 11:05 p.m. on the night of Christmas, and most everyone else is in bed. I have some laundry to do, so I figured I'd use the time between loads to catch up my blog by posting photos I've taken over the last couple of months that I somehow never had time to share. So we're going way back, readers, but I promise not to get wordy in my explanation of what everything is, and I won't include every single thing. That could get long. And I'm saving the events of this wonderful Christmas week for their own post . . . or posts. Lots of cool stuff to think and write about this year. So here we go . . .

Here's the Byrd/Coats gang on Halloween.


Next up are a few from Thanksgiving, which we spent in Atlanta with Tony's side of the family.

Pretty Byrd girls - Jessica, Katharine, and Caroline ...


Matt, Jacob, and Mom ...



Caroline and Nathan, Kelly and Jacob, and Tony and me ...









Ellis and Gillian...


The night we got home from our Thanksgiving trip, the girls and I went to see my dear friend Neal Coomer in a show at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center. It was called "The Witnesses", and it was fabulous. Neal has always been one of my favorite singers, and nothing has changed. He absolutely sang the stew out of those songs, and my girls and I loved it. It was great to visit with him for a little while after the show. It's been so long since we've seen one another, but we agreed that some friendships don't really change, and the best ones can pick right back up where they left off. Here's a photo of the four of us...


Gillian's sixth birthday was the next week, and although we didn't have her actual birthday party until a couple of weeks later, we did have a special visit from Papa Conn. He was on the other coast on business and drove across the state to have dinner and spend the night with us. It was great to have him in town to celebrate the little Bean's birthday.

I'll have a double.

Ah, 'tis the season for all kinds of neat stuff, like last-minute shopping on a Monday night before leaving for Tennessee the next morning. Yes, that was me. I went to exchange a new coat my wonderful husband had bought for me, because after 14.5 years, I have finally figured out that it really is okay to tell him if something he gave me just doesn't work for one reason or another. So there I was in the store, replacement coat and a few other things in hand, kind of wandering around looking for a thing or two on my still-need-to-get list, when I overheard one half (or maybe three fourths, at the rate this woman was talking) of a cell phone conversation.

Sidebar: This is so not the point of this post, but one thing this conversation brought to my mind was just how easy it is to shop and talk, becoming totally engrossed in one's phone conversation, not realizing that everyone within a 30-foot radius is being sucked into your very public communication with the person on the other end. Have you ever slapped your phone shut at the end of just such a conversation in the middle of a store and been instantly confronted by a new kind of quiet, one that let's you know, by contrast, that you were definitely NOT using your inside voice while discussing your friend's most recent personal fiascotragedycrisisissue? I hate it when that happens . . . so why has it happened to me more than once? Anyway . . .

So this lady was talking on her cell phone. I was minding my own business, looking at picture frames. I wasn't trying to hear what she was saying. I wasn't prying into her business, or the business of her friend Pam, about whom she was talking. I didn't need an update. I don't even know Pam. But here's what her friend (name unknown) said to the other person who knows Pam:

"Oh, Pam? . . . Yeah, she's doing really well. . . . You know she had a double vasec-, um, a double vasectom- . . . right, uh huh . . . She's doing great! . . . "

You know how every once in a while you get one of those emails where you have to answer a bunch of questions about yourself, and sometimes one of them is "If you could meet anyone in the world, living or dead, who would it be?" Well, I'm revising my list. Here's the updated version:

1. My Aunt Sara
2. Sting
3. Pam (that lady who had a double vasectomy)