Tomlinson Perry Night! Old Friends are Best Friends

Act II

Next up in the lead up to Christmas is our annual Tomlinson/Perry night or (as we called it on facebook and got responses from people who thought Red and I were up to no good toilet-papering yards), TP night. The rules are simple-- there are none! My and Phil's best friends, Lamar and Rhonda Perry, get together for some laidback snacking and a rousing game of choice with as many of our collective kids and their respective spouses and/or friends that can make it. In the past years we've played everything from Pictionary to Jinga or Win, Lose and Draw! This year we played Chain Reaction, girls against the boys. Is it really necessary for me to say the girls won?

Me and Madness! We'd like to think we're aging gracefully! LOL!

Emerson Ann and her "Other G-Mother"

Lamar, I can't believe this is the only pic of you I took the whole night! Sorry, man. You know I love you!

Emerson makes Other G laugh!

Pops and the Grantster share a moment.

Jami-Lyn meets Grant Thomas!

What are Phillip and Carey talking about?

Aunt CeCe and Grant doing some loving

The men are talking, oh, let me guess-- HUNTING?!

The Baby Bar Czars!

And yes, these bowls are their fav toys. When

will we learn? :)

Jessica Ann with an armload of sweet babies!

Jami-Lyn brought her friend, Kathleen, a welcome

addition!

The Mahers discuss the game

In fully gaming mode. Please forgive the mess!

Phillip, "Jake, please get ready. You're after Jac-lyn."

Uncle Jake and Emerson Ann exchanging pacies?

Pops has a winning moment!

Aunt CeCe is happy!

My two hearts!

Okay, I realize this isn't our best look, but I thought

it's be fun to show total exhaustion turned giddy.

Old friends are a special kind of joy. If you don't have any, I pray that you would begin today to forge a new friendship and nurture it daily. Remember, the best way to have friends is to be one!

~Shellie

Oil and perfume rejoice the heart; so does the sweetness of a friend's counsel that comes from the heart. Proverbs 27: 9

Christmas begins at Nanee and Papa's

Official warning: I'm about to try and capture this past wonderful week in the next three blog posts. No doubt, I won't be able to do justice to our big wonderful, unorganized, crazy, way less that perfect Southern family Christmas and for sure only the stout-hearted will make it to the end of the triology, but at least you've been warned. Oh-- and FYI, Rusty Guenard and his girlfriend, Jill, didn't make it in and Blake's sweet wife Rachel was too sick to make the trip so I simply must stop here and say "WE MISSED Y'ALL!" And now, let the remembering begin...

For me, the Christmas season officially began with the children's Christmas play held at my parent's church, (Nanee and Papa). For it was there at Melbourne Baptist Church, many years ago now, where I tapped my patent leather, lacy-sock adorned feet in time with the Christmas carols and took in the wonder of Christmas for the very first time. For this lover of words, it remains the greatest story of all time. God, stepping into flesh to open a door that would bring His people unto Himself. Over and over this season I've found myself meditating on a definition of mercy I recorded in a recent Bible study. Oh, friends, do let this speak to you. Mercy: God's immediate and special response to the misery that is the consequences of our own sin. WOW in caps.

But back to Melbourne. My sissy and her husband, Rick, along with my niece Hillary and her babies, Emery and Jackson, have moved home this year. (Let all God's people say Amen!) This year, at the Melbourne Christmas play, Emery the Cow, and Jackson the little lamb, in full costume, along with a large contingent of other Melbourne children, gifted us with a most precious rendition of the Christmas story. Oh, how we laughed as the rambunctious cow and the sheep joined the rest of the children's choir, a frisky donkey and a camel/rhino, angels, readers, and a narrator. (Clarification: the camel/rhino would be a little fellow who posted his objections to being a camel and stated preference for being a donkey a little late -- the donkey outfit had already been taken. He wore half of his Halloween rhino outfit and home-made donkey ears instead.)

My daughter Jessica Ann, her husband Patrick, and my grandson, Grant the Baby Beau Czar, came in a few days later to join me and Pops, my son Phillip, his wife Carey, and Emerson the Bellerina Czar, and Christmas was fully on! The next event on the calendar was Nanee and Papa's Christmas where the whole extended funky bunch gathers to meet, eat, and greet and there was plenty of all of that going on. Forgive me, but I really can't resist commentating on the pics.

Uncle Rod and Aunt Carmen enjoy the fun!

Emerson Ann says, "COOL!"

Hillary and Blair with Blake hamming it up

"Notice, Ruthie and Cyn are trouble, but I'm not!"

The Mahers oblige me with yet another family pic!

Daddy daughter moment

"Keggie, everywhere I look, there you are with that camera!"

Ryle and Kristin keeping it real.

Gene is no where near as evil as this makes him look!

Grant Thomas needs a Daddy fix!

Phillip, Carey and Emerson striking sweet pose

Nana Parker poses with my man!

Cuzin Blair and Emerson Ann

Nanee and Jackson opening gifts

Cyndie and Jackson, ignoring someone's hand. (Is

that you, Hillary?)

Rhonda's kids, left to right-- Blake, Blair, and Brad

Hillary and Emmie in foreground, Cyndie, Jackson and Papa

in the rear.

Emerson shows her Christmas dress to Aunt Kristen

Rhonda and Gene looking happy to be there!

Grant still dissing all gifts in favor of $1 toy in

his stocking

Emmie loves her Cousin Brad

Me and my Blair!

Nana helps Emerson open a gift

Cyn and Rick looking good in the neighborhood!

The Wonderful Papa opening his new rifle

I love this man!

The great Nanee of the bunch looking like

anything but a great grand in her new shades!

Oops! Caught 'em kissing and no mistletoe

in sight!

Thanks Nanee and Papa! It was crazy, wild, wonderful and unforgettable. Another one for the books! Thank you for consistently setting a wonderful example for your family. Your love for each other sets a high bar and I'm grateful for it, but the greatest blessing you've given this family is a heritage of faith in Jesus Christ, the Lord. We thank you. We love you.

~Shellie

"A gray head is a crown of glory; It is found in the way of righteousness." Proverbs 16:31

P.S. Consider me corrected. I just got a rather harassing phone call from the sister who wasn't mentioned by NAME in the opening to this blog. That would be my middle sister, Rhonda Arlene. She had pictures; she had captions, but no "mention". (This is the kind of thing that happens when you nickname a person Pretty Woman in her childhood.) Henceforth, let it be known throughout cyberspace that Rhonda came in all the way from the Big D and we all felt so fortunate to see her lovely and accomplished self with her handsome friend Gene and her beautiful kids, Blake, Blair and Brad. (All better now, Nana?)

WHO DAT?!

Okay, so there are just nine hundred and some more pics I wanna put up, along with all sorts of notes for y'all here two days before Christmas, but this is absolutely all I can do right now-- and I'm stealing time to do this!

If you've been around the porch a while, you may know that we aim for a really cool gingerbread design every year. Two years ago it was a cajun shack.

Last year it was a two story doll house for Emerson Ann's first Christmas.

This year-- what else-- but a WHO DAT theme for Grant Thomas's first Christmas! Please check out the one and only Superdome, complete with attached parking garage.

And, of course, you wanna look inside! (Okay, so our dome is sagging, just a bit. We're not

exactly architects people.)

'Ya like? We'll be checking back for compliments, oops, I mean comments!

Merry Christmas Hugs,

Shellie

I'm Celebrating Christmas

Earlier today I posted the following message on Twitter and Facebook: I've put up a Christmas tree with Christmas lights. I've bought Christmas presents and I'm listening to Christmas music. I'm celebrating Christmas. And you?

Methinks that needs some clarification. It wasn't a Christmas update. It was more like a for-the-record announcement. What I would've said, had Twitter allowed me the additional characters, is that I'm not celebrating just any old holiday. I'm celebrating the gift that tops all others-- Immanuel, God with us-- and my soul is sorely tired of the word Christmas being avoided like it's an offensive slur.

When I wish you a Merry Christmas, friend, I don't mean Happy Holidays or I'd say Happy Holidays. When I wish you a Merry Christmas I'm saying that I hope that in this season of Christ's birth you would enjoy His presence and know His love.

And now that we've got that clear, how's your Christmas coming? I'm way into it! Nary a room around here has been neglected. About the only thing left to say is lights, camera, action! (As soon as I add the fresh greenery, I'll share some pics with y'all.) To be honest, I may have went a little crazy with the white lights this year. I just can't get enough of 'em. If it were up to me, Dixie Belle would be wired with a battery operated lit up collar, but she has declined the offer. She has, however, agreed to cooperate, kinda, with this Santa hat pic-- if I do it quickly.

Funny, yes? I can't help it. I'm feeling particularly jolly tonight. Somehow, I've managed to get most of the house decorated and the majority of my shopping done without falling behind on writing deadlines. But what's even better, tomorrow Beloved Hubby and I are going to have our annual Christmas shopping wrap-up/movie and meal date. And by annual I truly mean once a year! We always say we're going to go out more in the next year, see more movies, yada yada. We never do. And we're fine with that. The man and I are suckers for a home movie and a bowl of popcorn in our chair and a half.

But, that's tomorrow... Tonight there's a fire cracking in the fireplace, the lights are shining, and our tummies are full of tacos, the man's favorite meal. If we're lucky, there will even be some college hoops on the tube later. Meanwhile, I think I'll be pecking away on the old laptop, polishing up a new Facebook page I'm working on. It's all about River Jordan's and my "Great Southern Wing and a Prayer Tour"-- coming to a southern city this spring. Watch for it.

Enjoy life's sweet moments, friends. They come and go much too quickly.

Merry Christmas Hugs,

Shellie

P.S. Are you celebrating Christmas?

Giving Thanks is a Habit

Several years ago now, Hurricane Katrina swept a not-so-elderly refugee into our lives. This lady was extended family in a round about, several degrees of separation sort of way, but my Mama took over her care as is she were flesh of her flesh and bone of her bone. The storm had dealt Mrs. Shirley a hard blow, but it’s after effects were nothing compared to the cancer that was ravaging her body. She was only here for a few months, but I'll never forget the valuable lesson she taught me as she dealt with her impending death.

I remember it clearly. I sat on her bed and reached for her hand.
“How are you today?” I asked.
She smiled widely. “I reckon it’s a pretty good day…as far as dying goes.”

We went on to talk about other things, including her craving for coconut cookies but I couldn’t get that phrase out of my mind, “as far as dying goes.” I knew what the doctors were saying, too. We all did. Their verdicts offered little hope. Unless the Lord granted Mrs. Shirley a miracle she was looking at days, not weeks. Knowing that you’re dying brings life a clarity that can’t be reached any other way. Mrs. Shirley had a hard won perspective. Even now I remember her telling me how badly she wanted to shake people and tell them to enjoy life, to treasure every day.

I left Mrs. Shirley’s room that evening with a renewed purpose, not only to count my blessings but to live in a way that spreads those blessings to those around me. Sound familiar to anyone? Then you can probably write the next line. Everyday life wasted no time coming in to challenge that commitment. It always does, doesn’t it? Sometimes our attitude of gratitude slips, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it flat out goes missing. I say, thank the Good Lord we can always find it again in God’s word and in prayer.

For, here’s a truth perfectly for Thanksgiving. If we can have a grateful heart for an hour, we can have a grateful heart for a day. If I can count my blessings today, I can count ‘em tomorrow. Just because we slip is no reason to quit trying. Gratitude is a habit, and it only gets better with practice. Let’s aim to live such a grateful life that it never takes someone else’s loss to remind us of our gain, or someone else’s pain to remind us of our blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving friends! It's back to the kitchen for me. :)

Hugs,

Shellie

The Blessings of Rejection

Hey Y'all,

I shared these thoughts recently on a writer's blog I contribute to occasionally. It occurred to me that y'all may enjoy it, too, if for no other reason than to remind everyone to keep on keeping on towards your dreams and goals! We were asked to opine on reviews and rejection...

Somewhere between my ears another book is rolling around picking up mass. If you need a visual think more along the lines of a tumble weed in an Old Western than a snowball headed down the mountain. (My muse has attention deficit issues.) I don’t know how it works for the rest of my more learned colleagues but in my head the story shares attic space with a half dozen other tales insisting upon their turn at the keyboard. That’s where it gets complicated and it’s precisely where my thoughts on reviews and rejection begin.

The book I mentioned, the latest one forming in my head, the working title is something like “The Blessings of Rejection” and if writing what you know is the maxim, I’m well-equipped to share the power of no. Let’s just say I’m blessed and blessed indeed. I have rejection and review stories that will make you laugh and cry, simultaneously.

For whatever reason, my lot in life appears to be doing what I’m told isn’t done. I’ve learned to simply sigh anytime someone says, “Well, Shellie, it’s not altogether impossible, but it’s really not done.” Experience has taught me that I’m about to throw another log in my little engine that can and go where wiser people have the good sense not to travel.

I seem bent on pursuing rejection from a host of different sources. Apparently I like my rejection variety style. One would think that after stacking up that magic number of rejection slips and getting a foot in the door with my first non-fiction book, and after having it do better than the wildest dreams of myself, my agent, and my editor, I’d be content to bathe my wounded oft-rejected writer’s ego in it’s modest success and stick to what’s working. But no, being rejected in one genre isn’t enough for my muse. She’s turning out children’s books, fiction, non-fiction, Bible studies, you name it she’s writing it, despite the well meaning and knowledgeable ones who insist that it’s hard, if not impossible, to cross genres unless you are a seriously big time author. (Hello John Grisham.) Sigh. In the interest of full disclosure, I’m finding it difficult to find CBA representation that’s willing to take on this horse of many colors, even though my precious ABA agent is willing to split the pie and share the responsibility and the rewards of my talkative muse.

The funny thing is, I’ve stuck around long enough to do some of those “not dones” and I know something about next to impossible; it’s still possible. Almost ten years ago now, long after I had tired of filing rejection slips away alphabetically, and before my first book deal with Penguin, I birthed All Things Southern, self-pubbed a few books of my own, and decided to approach the radio world about running my daily segments, (think a rambling female Paul Harvey.) I was told that Christian stations wouldn’t pick up All Things Southern because four of the five days were just good clean fun, but not inspirational. I was told secular stations wouldn’t pick up All Things Southern because one of the five days was inspirational. Sigh. Today my short taped segments air in more than two dozen markets across the South, on country stations, oldies, talk, easy listening, and Christian. I also have a one hour live talk show called All Things Southern LIVE. FYI, heavy metal stations haven’t picked me up, but who knows what tomorrow holds?

And now, a closing thought on reviews. Despite my obvious hard-headedness in the literary world, it should be noted that I really do know when to fold ‘em in other areas. Once, many years ago, I was holding my young niece in my arms during church. It was a beautiful day and the song service was extraordinarily uplifting, which I suppose encouraged me to forego my normal trepidation about singing in public as I can’t carry a tune were it deposited in my well-meaning hands. I was well into a robust hymn when sweet Blair took her wee head off of my shoulder, looked around for the offending noise, located it, and promptly whacked me in the mouth with her rattler. I have yet to contact a single person on music row.

Hugs,

Shellie