Dear Summer Lovers....

Dear Summer lovers,

No one loves the summer time more than I do.  Some would describe me as cold blooded (literally and emotionally) so hot humid conditions do not phase me in the least.  I'm like a lizard laying out on a rock.  Don't get me wrong, Autumn is still my favorite with it's warm days and crisp nights, but when the days are running long and cold beverages are involved I'm a happy camper.

Having said that there are few of my brethren out there I'd like to have a quick word with so as to ensure we are all going to have a safe, comfortable, and relatively painless time as we celebrate the season.

1.) Dear Baby Girls.... You've heard me say it before, you're going to hear me say it again.  You are all beautiful but sometimes you need to leave some things to the imagination.  Let me speak plainly, put some clothes on.  Yes, I'm jealous you can hide your phone, cash, credit cards, and a taser in your cleavage.  I know you're hiding it there because your shirt is almost open to your knees or your bikini top is more like two eye patches.  Please do all your sisters and mature brothers a favor and put those twins away before they hurt somebody...most likely you.  You're sending the wrong message about who you are and what you really want which is likely just someone to like you, tell you that you're lovely, and valuable.  We don't need to visit with the "twins" to figure that out.  Also, I don't care how much you profess to be working on your fitness, those lacey booty shorts are not biking shorts.  You're going to catch a chaff so harsh you won't want anyone to look or touch.  I'm just saying.

2.) Couples at the pool.... I'm so glad y'all found one another.  I'm glad there is "chemistry" in your relationship.  But latching on to your significant other and riding them like a sea sponge around the pool while my babies are splashing in their floaties two feet away kind of makes me cringe.  Furthermore, pinning them up against the pool wall really should be something reserved for behind closed doors.  Again, some things need to be left to the imagination.  Most people do not want the images of your PDA burned into their retinas while they're sipping poolside, and let's be real... aren't there enough fluids already swimming around in that pool? Again, I'm just saying please, please have some modesty and decency.

3.) Final shout out to my sun worshipers out there... I love a good tan as much as the next person.  I remember laying in the sun for hours growing up and getting deep, nice brown tans.  A little color never hurt anyone.  I must say though as I have gotten old(er) I've grown more cautious about intentionally working on my tan.  Watching several good friends, some younger than I, have cancerous spots removed and now seeing the wrinkles, freckles, and sunspots popping up on my body from my young and fun days, I would encourage you to put on some sunscreen or invest in a good umbrella.  I don't want my nice leather MK bag to blend in with you while we're out shopping together.  Capiche?

Keep a couple of cold beverages and a hot dog in the fridge for me ok? Y'all are always welcome to come by for a nice ice cream treat or some cool lemonade if you're out this way.  Around here we don't lock the doors when crazy shows up.  We invite it up on the porch and break out the good stuff.

Happy summer compadres!

LJ

    

To the Baby Girls Part 2

Dear Baby Girls,

This letter is not addressed to your sisters from Panera Bread that I bumped into a few years ago.  I hope they have graduated on to bigger and better things including big girl jobs, big girl beds, and have traded out bathtub vodka for Pierre.  

I'm writing to the ones of you who are out there quietly trying to survive the grind without drowning yourself in some kind of indulgences -- i.e. boys, drugs, and drinks.  

I'd specifically like to speak to those of you who are hiding behind a wall.  A large, beautiful stone emotional wall.  

You don't put yourself out there so you frequently feel as if you go unnoticed.  You may or may not think you're beautiful, intelligent, creative, crafty, funny, or (fill-in-the-blank) ENOUGH to be noticed.  If you don't have those thoughts at least once a week we gonna need to talk because I think all normal women have that programmed in genetically.  

We love to look at one another and those flat girls in magazines.  We then compare our image of ourselves on our absolute fattest, dirtiest, I don't even want to put on a bra kind of days to those painted and primed girls who seem to always have it going on.  I'll say this, comparison is the thief of all joy sister.  

Yep.  

I bet if those phantom beauties could talk they would tell you they have days where they hate make-up, bras, and boys too.  I bet they have screamed in frustration when a paper towel roll unraveled in their kitchen or went into the pantry for some Cheez Its and the box was in there on the shelf...completely empty.  I'm not a betting women, but I'm willing to go a step further and say they probably have at least mentally ate a whole pint of ice cream on a bad day.  

Just saying.

We all have our finer moments screaming in the pantry.  You though.  You have these moments but feel like you shouldn't let it out.  You're in the midst of inner turmoils.  You're trying to figure out this tangled thing called life.  You're dealing with good and bad relationships with boys, girls, dogs, and anything else that holds the breath of life...including yourself.  You spend your days smiling and your nights crying.  Bless your heart baby girls.

You're scared to show others the underside of your armor.  You validate it by saying no one cares because you're not (fill-in-the-blank) ENOUGH anyway.  You think your interests, thoughts, and struggles are scary because they don't match up to this glittering perception in your mind of what they should be.  

For this one time, glitter is not your friend.  Don't follow the glittery signs.  The signs contain lying thoughts streaming over and over constantly leading you into deeper and deeper isolation.  All of the sudden you relinquish your power and they are stealing whatever joy, comfort, and security you feel in your natural talents and especially in blossoming relationships.  The anxiety, self-loathing, and fear cast you into so much darkness you can't see (believe) the subtle cardboard signs held by the people that love you that say you are ENOUGH.  

Take it from someone who recently knocked down the wall like it was the Berlin wall in the 80's.  Oh...you don't remember that.  Well how about from someone who knocked down the wall like Miley Cyrus did in "Wrecking Ball?" ..... 

You don't have to fight the fight behind your stone wall alone.  I'm sure inside that wall is a secret garden.  If God's the Gardner the flower beds and plants will not be perfectly laid out, but the colors are vivid just like your personality.  The air smells like fresh soil because the ground is being broken and you're a work in progress.  There are seeds being planted and fruit taking form.  Don't be afraid to  let the people the Lord sends into your life to help pick up a shovel or rake and help with the heavy lifting.

I'll bring the skid steer and some Cheez It's.    

Bless your heart sweet girls,

Lendy   

Letters from Lendy -- Baby Girls

Dear young college girls behind me in line at Panera Bread:

The fake valley girl accent you're using was old in 1998.  You're in college... "adorbs" is not a word.  How drunk you were last night and how you were sleeping in a bathtub this morning is not funny at all.  The very sound of your high pitch laughter, too short / tight clothing, and total lack of self respect makes me cringe, feel annoyed, and worried about you all at once.

Maybe I haven't had enough coffee this morning, or maybe if you could hear my thoughts you'd say that girl is just a jealous hater.  I mean look at me.  Rolling in with my hair pulled up, no make-up, old yellow shorts, camo crocks, and a t-shirt.  This has always been me.  Awkward and country while you slept in a tub full of vodka but are made-up and rocking jacks and juicy couture straight from the page of Cosmo.  Part of me wishes that I could have been more "put together" like you but definitely not enough to change at this point.

Take it from your 30 year old sister, you may always enjoy / like the finer things in life but at some point those tubs will become too hard to sleep in.  The booze will cause you to feel worse than any of the problems you had before you started drinking.  You'll realize that true love doesn't happen overnight, and boys in bars don't necessarily make good daddies and husbands.  People will respect and take you seriously if you can carry on a conversation without using weird slang every two seconds.  This will be important as you look for jobs and determine what you want to be when you grow up.  2 out of 3 of you will not find a permanent paid "MRS" position while you're in school.  Instead of talking bad about your girlfriends while they're in the bathroom, learn how to have each others' back and love them well, because true friends are hard to come by and even harder to keep.

I sincerely wish you well on your journey.  The social drama may seem super important and consuming now but paying bills, working 40 hours per week, maintaining good relationships, and being a big girl will make all these things seem like fun.  Figure out who you are, have fun, but be safe.  I'm praying for you.

Now move over so I can get my hazelnut coffee and tell me where did you find that cute Louis V clutch?

Bless your heart baby girls,

Lendy

Taking it to the mattresses....

I have only heard the phrase, "Taking it to the mattresses," used in the 1990's Meg Ryan blockbuster (*sarcasm*) "You've Got Mail." Apparently it's a famous line from one of "The Godfather" movies and it references mafia members hiding somewhere other than at their house. I thought it could also be a great lead in to one of those little novels my mama used to take to the beach. Either way I just ripped it off because I've got an entertaining story and it happens to involve...you guessed it...a mattress.

For the past two days I've been taking one of my team members out into the district to meet with some very important volunteers. Yesterday we drove all over the northern counties and tomorrow we will finish up in the western counties. Today we both had various errands and tasks to complete so we drove separately most of the day. This afternoon we left Durham together and were both headed back to Raleigh on Interstate 85. Meg was right behind me because she's from down east and has no idea what's heads or tails in Durham and traffic was pretty intense. Right before our exit the large box truck directly in front of me slammed on brakes and before I really had time to get the words, "What the..." out of my mouth a full-sized mattress blew around the back of the truck and landed directly in front of me. Now, everything happened in a matter of 3 seconds but just like in those cheap made-for-TV movies time slowed down and I saw myself from the outside processing the situation. My options were to swerve left or right or hit the mattress. With two lanes of traffic on my left and two lanes of traffic on my right at 70 mph it could have / would have been extremely messy. My greatest fear period was that whether I hit it directly or just glanced it that the mattress would throw my truck into another lane of traffic or cause it to flip. Having only driven smaller cars my entire life I totally underestimate how tough and heavy my truck is. If by some luck I drove over the mattress with no issues then it would still likely be right in Meg's path. My options did not seem all that great.

I did what I thought to be the lesser of all the evils and made the decision to hit the mattress. I gripped the steering wheel, sped up a little, and slammed that mattress like a champion. Go big or go home people. I heard it busting all under my truck but the truck never swerved or even bounced really. After actually hitting the mattress my brain sort of began to slip into a haze of fear and relief that is until I heard the distinct sound of metal dragging behind the truck. First thought, the back passenger tire has busted. Everyone on I-85 immediately slowed to a crawl as I gradually took the lap of shame over to a sketchy median. I jumped out of the truck expecting to see my back tires slashed from the metal in the mattress but was quickly surprised to find the mattress was still wedged up under the truck.

Meg pulled in behind me, jumped out, and immediately began to laugh. She had watched everything happen from right behind me. After seeing that I was ok and had only gained a mattress landing gear, she was laughing at the craziness of our situation and at least a little out of relief. Still shaking...I swallowed the huge lump in my throat and I began to laugh too...I was alive, my truck wasn't damaged, and no one else got hurt in the process. Divine favor.

Traffic was whizzing by on either side of us as we tried to pull the twisted metal and stuffing out from under the truck. Meg and I were using all of our weight pulling and pushing with little result. I was debating whether to call the troopers. I've never had a good experience with a trooper so part of me almost just wanted to abandon the truck and just head home. A beat up black truck backed up the exit ramp toward us and this super kind man crawled under my truck and within a few minutes he was able to jerk the mattress out. He even loaded it on the back of his truck saying that he did not want someone else to have the same trouble. I really wanted to hug this guy. All he said before he jumped in his truck was, "There are still good people in the world."

I've been run down for the past week it seems ...my patience has been thin...my feelings have been hurt...the to do list seems never ending. After our little adventure I came home with the weight still on my shoulders, took a nap, and woke up with a song on my heart. We laughed at this story over supper but the fact that this could have a much more serious outcome is impossible to overlook no matter how much I don't want to dwell on it. I'm not afraid to die, but I'm not itching for death to overtake me or to cause harm to anyone intentional or not. It could have happened to anyone out on the road but today I was given a second chance to adjust my attitude and a reminder that there are still good caring people in this world regardless of the hurt others cause and that I need to try to pay that goodness forward. I stopped on the side of the road on the way home from supper and offered a poor runner my rain jacket in a downpour...She waved me off annoyed...I should have realized I was interrupting her pace and keeping her further from getting dry. Gold star for effort right?