[Literally] Old School: Mission 3rd Krauss

First and foremost: a huge thanks for offered words of advise and encouragement lately. This girl's heart needed it. We all need that extra bit of love sometimes. And I'm grateful for those who have been willing to give it.

Day 5: A Picture Of Your Favorite Memory

I'm not a fan of having to pick one favorite anything. Ask anyone who knows me well, and they will tell you that 1) I am indecisive and 2) any question of a favorite will end in a list (oh, how I love lists) of subcategories of favorites because my favorite one day will not be my favorite the next; it changes with my mood.

To that end, then, I present you with one of my favorite memories, sub-categorized under "CUC Days". Ladies and gents, I give you a scene from one of the first few weeks of freshman year while living on ye ol' 3rd Krauss, the Mouse House. We called this the evening of Mission 3rd Krauss. I now give you the 10 steps necessary for said Mission:

Step 1: Get bored on a weekend.

Step 2: Decide to decorate the hall.

Step 3: Realize need for big sheets of paper.

Step 4: Plan how to get big sheets of paper from the community center across campus.

Step 5: Make a detailed plan on how to sneak from Point A (3rd Krauss) to Point B ( the KCC). Include strict instructions to make James Bond-esque rolls along the way.

Step 6: Dress accordingly with the "mission" mindset. (I don't think this is what Concordia had in mind when they encouraged "missions".)

Step 7: Dart across campus, roll a few times for good measure here and there, duck behind bushes, and do this all with minimal talking and giggling. Ignore any and all people who look and/or ask, "What's going on?" Just run and secure the goods.

Step 8: When goods are secured, repeat process of getting to KCC, but in reverse. And, for the sake of the preservation of the paper, with less James Bond-style rolling.

Step 9: Return to 3rd Krauss with the sweet, sweet taste of victory...and a lot of paper.

Step 10: Proceed in hanging up paper to decorate the hall. Make masking tape outlines of friends on the floor in the hallway.

Oh, that and so many other memories make that my favorite floor to have lived on in college. Remind me to tell you sometime about the time our floor was quarantined. Future post?

~"A college education should equip one to entertain three things: a friend, an idea, and oneself." [-Thomas Ehrlich]~

Leaving a House that Built Me

I'm sitting on the wood floor in my room. It hasn't been echoe-y like this since my senior year of high school when we painted it. Auntie Cindy helped me pick out just the right shade of rusty red to make the Golden Gate Bridge stand out in the painting Grandpa loved, the one that will soon be hanging up in my own apartment.

This room has come a long way since I first set foot in it years ago. It was once carpeted and full of Grandma and Grandpa's stamping things, their computer, their two separate desks that were so neatly organized. It was fun to hide under Grandpa's desk. The more cousins crammed under there, the better. They had perfected a system for working on their stamps together, and I loved to peek in on them while they worked. They were such wonderful, fascinating people. And this room housed one of their passions. I loved to think about that as I lived in this room.

And now, here I sit. I've come a long way since I first set foot in this room, too. I was about 6 then. My biggest dreams then were probably to beat my brother and Beckey's team in the Cousin Bowl in the front yard. Now I'm 23 and currently my biggest dream is to survive this move, class, and 24 kindergarten kiddos this year.

This room's been good to me. In a few short hours my foot will tread across the floor one last time. After they leave this room, they'll make their way down the hallway, feeling the carpet that my feet have helped to wear down over the years. My eyes will take in this wonderful home one last time, the place that has known so much of my family's love and laughter, and I'll be on my way. Maybe someday I'll come to love a place this much again, but Grandma and Grandpa's house will always be one of the first places I think of when I think of home.

My heart breaks as I think that the next time I see this place, it will only be from the road as I drive by. There won't be any maneuvering in the angled driveway, pushing the sticky door, hearing the rattling of the metal decoration on the back of the door, and feeling the rush of familiarity. No, it'll be just an empty, lonely house. But I will smile through the tears as I see the dear old place again, and then I'll drive on over to see the beautiful faces of my family once again.

Until then, I hear a new place calling out to me. It whispers the promise of housing new memories and experiences, of watching me continue to grow. Apartment living, here I come.

My friends, I leave you with one of my favorite songs to listen to when I'm away from home in honor one of the houses that did build me.

The Day of Great Combinations

coffee and conversation jump start the day right.

reuniting with a CUC friend -- a juxtaposition of catching up on life and reminiscing.

sunshine, sunscreen, and sand smells staining my skin.

lakeside seating perfectly sandwiched between a friend and a cousinsister.

laughter and love. lots of it.

reminders

of not being alone.

of growing up that's done and will come.

of the okay factor in it all.

and now...chocolate milk and Frankenstein. (a bit of polar opposites, yes?)

~"Life is short, let's go live it. Ain't no time for wasting time. Days like these go by way too fast. Yeah, days like these, you wanna make them last." ["Days Like These" - Jason Aldean]~

What A Cousin Weekend Looks Like

Cousin Movie Night: The Drive In Edition

(Jess, Matt, and Jen)

passing the time until the movies start.

(we sometimes pretend to like each other)

he's basically like a brother to me.

sisterlylove.♥

"i wanted to braid my hair and be just like yooooou!"

cousinsisters. ♥

graduation day.

the look of a smartypants with a masters.

it's all the rage, you know.

"suit up!"

jobo.

cousins picture.

grown ups picture.

(Uncle Vic, Liz, Matt, Auntie Cindy, Uncle Tom)

He's a Phoenix.

~"What's that? You want me to come back there and talk to you?"~ [Due Date]~

Favorite Nephew Friday

Dear friends welcomed a new nephew into their family early this morning. Normally I'm kind of grumpy getting woken up at 3 a.m., but that's a worthy cause, indeed, especially since it came with pictures. [Ever want to soften the blow on something? Just add a baby. But don't be offended if I don't remember a thing you said then.]

I also got to spend time with my favorite nephew today. [Okay, so he's my only nephew...if I had more than one, I'd have multiple favorites.] We made friends with Jack (only a few months younger) at b&n, played with trains, and ate lunch at Noodles. We also went with (his) Momma to play at the store where she buys cloth diapers for him while we played with a ball, a stick and a tambourine, and some cars.

Goodness, 5 months sure changes a kid. I left a toddler and came back to a little man who talks up a storm. He dashes through the store, dancing from side to side along the way. He knows how to make us crack up -- like purposely leaving a string of cheese hanging from the side of his mouth or making "nom nom" noises after taking a bite. And yet...he still comes running back and says "up", still wants to be carried and held. He still has his tongue-sticking-out concentration face. He still is full of giggles and smiles.

My mind's been blown looking at the ways all of the kids in my life are growing up. I think back to when they were babies and I wondered what it would be like when they were older, and now we're living the "older" and they are fantastic kids. And I didn't know how much I'd grow to love them so, so much more than I did when they were little tykes, but that's happened somehow, too.

I treasure getting to watch these kiddos grow up. :)

~"God knew I'd love you too much to be your friend, so he made me your auntie." [anonymous]~

Conquering the Cranky McCrankypants Feeling

I have been cranky all evening. I could pinpoint some of the reasons (like a long and drawn out Coleridge biographical article that's nowhere as interesting as his life actually was...), but the bottom line is that I know the real problem is needing to just take some time to be still.

Awake,

still,

and calm.

Rational.

One of my favorite things about being back home is rediscovering so many of the little things I'd forgotten about. One of them is a piece of paper with my great-great-aunt's writing on it that I have tucked on a shelf so I see it frequently.

Think, thank, plan and pray and get going.

Thanks for reminding me, Aunt Mill. Days like this are when I need it the most.

The Past and Future Memories of a House

The peeling paint on the siding and the broken bricks on the sidewalk gently remind me of their 107 years as I soak in the 2-story white wonder, imagining what it looked like when it was young. I slowly walk around, peeking in windows when I can, seeing the shell of what's to come when the work's done.

Another family's story is contained in these walls. Each creak of the floor, each window seat, each fire in the fireplace has been the backdrop of their memories. It has seen a family grown, children grow into adults, children taking care of their parents. It has held birthdays and holidays, hot summer nights and cold snowy days. The yard has been a jungle to explore, a perfect wedding spot, and has kissed many bare feet running through the grass.

The sun makes the violets glow a vibrant purple as it sets. I gather a bouquet from the thicket of flowers, shivering from the cold but glowing with happiness. I turn around and walk back toward the house, smelling the violets and smiling.

This house has known many memories with another family, but memories with our family await it. My nephew will remember this house as Nana and Papa's house, the house he gets to do his growing up in. There is so much exploring awaiting his little feet, and there are so many gatherings that our family will have there as it grows and changes. I realize that someday my kids will think of it as Nana and Papa's house, too. Whoa.

I pause as I put my car in reverse to leave, and I smile at the house one more time. It can't tell me the stories it has already seen, but we can share the stories that will be it's future.

~"A house with a memory; it's more than a house/It was once home to me."[-"A House I Once Knew" - Leo VanMeer]~

Embracing A New Hobby

A big weekend meant loads of pictures.

The last 2 times I had loads of pictures (the trip to NC and the trip to Kemah) led to some dabbling in editing.

This time I plunged into editing. Last night I spent hours on it...because it was fun, and because I could legitimately waste time without feeling guilty about it. I'm taking some legitimate summer vacation time before beginning work on my summer class.

Anyways, here are some of the results:

A lot of my favorite moments of the weekend were captured in photographs, both of other people's and my own. That makes me smile.

~"Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever...it remembers the little things, long after you have forgotten everything." [-Aaron Siskind]~

And one more quote tonight...

"To me, photography is an art of observation. It's about finding something interesting in an ordinary place...I've found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them." [Elliot Erwitt]

Cubbies Cap Connection

To some, a baseball hat. To others, memories.

He only drove the car for a month, if that. I remember getting to take it for a drive around the block when it was brand new. "Don't eat or drink anything in the car," he said. "Okay, I won't." [I still get pangs of guilt now when I do. Sorry, Grandpa.]

The baseball hat was the only sign he'd been there at all in those weeks. I can't say when exactly it appeared in there, but now I wish I could. I long to recall every detail, to say I savored each moment. But, as it usually goes, I didn't. I wasn't anticipating the years when the details would begin to fade, when I would realize with heartache that I couldn't remember, when pictures wouldn't be enough.

What did his smile look like? What did his voice sound like? What did he do when he was voicing his opinions in true Myslinski fashion?

I know he wouldn't care if I took the baseball hat out, but I still can't do it. I can't even bring myself to replace it because it wouldn't be the same. He was a real fan. I'm more of a fan in theory. And a new one would look nice, but it wouldn't be the one he put there.

He believed in his Chicago teams (but not the White Sox), hot dogs without ketchup. He believed in hard work. Most of all, he believed in love. And love he did to the fullest: his grandchildren, his children, and especially his wife. Family came first, no matter what.

The hat's been in there for 6 years, just a few weeks longer than we've been without him. People have tried to move it and the wind's tried to take it, but I always make sure it makes it back to its home in the back windshield. The number one rule in my car: Don't touch my Cubbies hat.

Some people carry around those they've loved and lost in their memories. I carry my grandpa around in my heart and mind...and in a baseball hat. To some it's just a hat, but to me, it's a reminder of all my grandpa stood for and taught us. It's a reminder to make him proud.

~"When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure." [-Unknown]~