While napping in the Park one great Saturday afternoon

Weekend before last I was lying in the grass in one of my favorite city parks in the world.  The mrs. and I left our prides and joys with the grandparents, jumped on jet planes to hide out on the west coast for a few days.  Which is how I ended up at this sanctuary of a playground on a beautiful Saturday afternoon feeling very satisfied.  

With a grin on my sun-licked face.  Belly full of Mama's homemade blueberry, cranberry, orange twist french toast.  Satisfied to be in a city that has captured my affections for over a decade.  Satisfied to be relaxing in this place with this woman who loves me.  And who is napping in the grass next to me.  Satisfied to feel the cool ocean breezes washing over the park, over me, and mixing the fragrance of evergreen and eucalyptus trees.  

Several yards from us, a young man, maybe in his late twenties, is having a birthday party.  The party's not quite started yet and the early arrivers seem to be just his parents and his girlfriend.  I drift in and out of my afternoon nap, but I can hear others arrive.  I can hear his laugh.  He's genuinely happy to see friends.  With each new wave of friends and loved ones that arrives he greets them joyously, genuinely, happily.  His laugh; not annoying, or obnoxious as some can be.  It reminds me of my son's laugh when I arrive home from work and he laughs because he's excited to see me and show me something new, or hug me.  The young man's laugh says to me," I'm glad to be here, to see these people, to love and be loved.  I'm very, very happy today".  

I hear his laugh again and look over at the party that has grown to a dozen or so.  They open a bottle of wine and he laughs again and hugs a friend.  I lay my head back on the grass and smile big.  Because, I feel like he feels.  Satisfied.  And very, very happy.

The New 'Do

Every decade or so I do something brave.  Last week, I did it!  It was time.  It was past time, and it was for all the right reasons.  I have a friend (and a mom) who suffers from alopecia.  About 4 years ago, my friend Felicia's hair began falling out and within months she was completely bald.  It was difficult navigating all the changes in her body, emotions, and appearance.  She has struggled through this disease, and remains strong despite the hardships.  

I recently heard that real hair wigs are not covered under most insurance plans for Alopecia patients, though they are covered for cancer patients.  Real hair wigs are significantly superior to normal synthetic hair pieces, and are outrageously expensive.  Felicia was given one for modeling and promoting it.  Were she to have paid for it, it would have cost her $1500.  Yes, that's one thousand five hundred US dollars for hair! Back to this in just a moment.

I've only had short hair twice in my life.  The first time I cut my hair short was in 5th grade.  It was bad. It went from hair reaching my lower back, to neck-short hair with feathered sides (I am a child of the 80s!). Of course the cute boy in the school had to tell me I looked like a boy.  Ouch!

The second time I cut my hair short was when I moved to Fresno.  It was a longer short cut.  Cute?  Yes, but I don't spend time on my hair and it needed some time and TLC!  Since then, I've been allowing this mane to do its thing and grow with a basic trim from time to time.  Last year I was really ready to cut it short.  However, I was pregnant and carrying an additional 45 pounds or so, and my wise husband encouraged my to wait until my face thinned back out so that I would like it. 

So here we are, summer of '09.  I've been looking for months for the perfect, cute short cut.  I found it back in May in a magazine and I knew the moment I saw it that it would be the one!  Was I ready?  Would I love it?  What about my long pretty hair (again reaching my lower back)?  Would I look like a boy?  What would my husband say?  What would my friends think?  You know how it goes!

Felicia had told me that National Bald Out day was going to be July 19th.  NBO day is for women and their friends who suffer from alopecia to join together and encourage one another to be who they are, feel supported, beautiful and dignified in their baldness.  It was also meant to raise awareness about the injustice of the insurance issue.  If I needed any more encouragement to be brave and get a new 'do, this was it!  On July 22nd I cut my hair, SHORT!  I donated it to Felicia, so that she can benefit from it in the future without having to pay an outrageous amount.  I loved every minute of it!  I'm still lovin' it.  Thanks, Kristi for the great cut, Suzanne for holding my hand and taking these pics, and Felicia for being strong, courageous and beautiful.

Learning more about my wife of 8 years

The Watsons 4 have covered a lot of ground and seen a lot of places.  A couple of weeks ago though, we loaded up and went to a spot that was new for us as a family.  Although, as I'll soon share, wasn't so new for Lisa.  

 JR & Amy were getting married in Amy's hometown of Davenport, Iowa.  I've never, ever, ever been to Iowa.  I'm not sure that I've been anywhere even close to Iowa.  And certainly not Davenport.  But that's where Amy's from and when good friends invite you to  the event that will forever shape and change their lives, well, you go.  

They'd asked Rev. Lisa to officiate part of their wedding.  And though they had 4 ministers handling different sections of the ceremony, Lisa got the good parts - communion, unity candle, introduction and pronouncement.  

This wasn't Lisa's first wedding to co-officiate, but it was the first time she handled these sections.  Frankly, its just not so common, even in our ministry circles, for a woman minister to officiate weddings.  Sure, I'm biased.  But watching her up there, it's clear to see a naturalness, comfort and sensitivity she possesses as she walked the bride & groom through the wedding ceremony where the two join in matrimony.  She led them, pastored them and ministered to them.  And, at the end of it all, pronounced them husband and wife.  

But back to Davenport.  Apparently Davenport (pop. 100, 827) is one of five cities that make up a larger five-city metropolis known, surprisingly, as the Quad Cities (go figure).  The other four cities are: Bettendorf, IA (pop. 32,445), Rock Island, Ill. (pop. 38,442), Moline, Ill. (pop. 43,016) and East Moline, Ill. (pop. 21,134).  Lisa was actually born in this area (a much smaller town called Silvus (pop. 7, 269)) and lived in East Moline and in Rock Island for a while when she was a girl.

Since we've been married, I've heard a number of great girlhood stories from her time living in this corn-sieged area.  And up until this trip, I was only able to cobble together some imaginative midwest suburb in my unimaginative mind.  Over the weekend we made two trips, one to where her grandparents lived and another to where she lived as a girl.  I heard other stories, new ones.  And was reminded of some old ones.  But this time, I got to see her face, while she looked at places she's not seen in decades.  And the stories were better, funnier, sadder and now these stories have a home in a place richer than even my cooky imagination.  

I'm grateful I don't live in Davenport.  Or any of the 5 Quad Cities for that matter.  But I'm grateful that Lisa did.  Because those places shaped her.  They shaped her into the woman who was to minister to a young couple on their wedding day.  And those places shaped her into the woman who stood with me on mine.  

House Hunters

The Watsons 4 are on the hunt...for a place to live.  For the past several months we've been looking on web at different houses, different neighborhoods, different prices.  And, we think we might be getting close.  Not sure if we've found the 'perfect' house, but we've got a few that we like well enough to toss out to the blogosphere and see what you all think.  

Now, we're not going to go into all the details of what we're looking for in a house.  If you know us and follow our family, you know our values and know a little at what we're looking for in a house - older homes, older neighborhoods, close to (or in) disadvantaged neighborhoods, in Midtown Memphis.  It's got to be big enough for a family of 4 with room for hospitality.  We average a guest per month staying with us, so need some room for friends and strangers that come to see us.  

With all that said, here's the top three.  

Overton Park House (click HERE to see the online listing)

This is a great house, old, beautiful inside.  Hardwood floors, big old fantastic crown molding.  Stained glass in a few places in the house.  2 fireplaces.  One is in the master bedroom.  Big house for a small price.  In midtown.  In a tucked away, tough neighborhood.

Near Binghampton (click HERE)

We've been thinking about moving into the Binghampton neighborhood for a while - a community that has lots of families that have moved in for ministry purposes.  This neighborhood is similar to the neighborhood we lived in in Fresno.  The neat thing about this house is it has a 2 story in-law unit in the back.  Still needs some work, but a good start.  Downside - the most expensive house of the three.

Montgomery (Street, not Georgia)  click HERE

This house, from my (matthew's) perspective isn't much to look at on the outside, but is an absolute gem on the inside.  The pics on the website do it no justice.  3 stories, over 3000 sq.ft.  huge lot.  In a middle class midtown neighborhood, but surrounded by some rougher areas.  Closer to downtown than we live now.  Upside is size (the largest of the three) and the price (the cheapest of the three).  Downside, a little farther west than we're used which is farther away from some of the friendships we've made.

So, let us know what you think.  It's not gonna dictate where we buy (or even if we buy), but we'd like to know your opinion.

June 25th. A Poem

June 25^th, 2009

From the overpass I can see the moon. 

A concluding metaphor for a day like today. 

Its just a thumbnail. 

And its red. 

Just enough light to see by. 

But the color’s all wrong. 

And it makes me angry and distrustful.

I round another overpass

Where I’m high enough to catch one last glimpse of the scarlet sliver

Before turning towards home.

But its gone.