Patty @ the Ryman and a crazy trail run

Does anyone else feel like summer is slipping right through your fingers?


The concert last night was BEAUTIFUL. The Ryman is officially my favorite concert venue of all time (but I've not been to Bonaroo yet.)

Here's a little treat for you:



I'm going to go ahead and put this out there so I'll know you all know about it and I'll feel like a wuss if I change my mind: I'm going to start running again. Since I started teaching 4 years ago, running has felt nigh unto impossible for my lack of energy after working hours.

But two friends and I are taking on the XTerra Trail Run Series national championship trail run in Bend, Oregon in September. It goes without saying that I have no business taking on a national championship trail run. Much less in Oregon, the running capital of the world.

At least gorgeous scenery will surround me as I run/puke at the same time...and maybe, just maybe I'll make it over to Hayward Field to run in the footsteps of Prefontaine before I come home.

Life to-do list item #8...check.

my thumb is black

Is it miserably hot where you are? Because I could drink a glass full of the Alabama air right now, and it'd go down not unlike a glass of buttermilk.

My thumb is officially BLACK. The herbs & flowers on which I labored so tirelessly for 15 minutes a couple of months ago aren't doing so hot. See for yourself:

The moss rose seeds, which I was most excited about, never sprouted.
The pot with cilantro, basil, and parsley has only yielded a basil sprout...


And the rosemary seed has sprouted something that looks suspiciously like basil. So...maybe a mix-up there. Also, I'm not sure why I decided it only needed 1/2 cup of soil. Look how shallow it's planted! Sorry, little plant.

The poppy seed I planted considered sprouting, but promptly changed its mind.

And the mint plant committed suicide in the pot about a week after I potted it.

The tarragon plant has stayed pretty much the same since I potted it - really, when do you harvest this stuff? I'm clueless.

The zinnias are doing well, but it's near impossible to kill those, so I still consider myself to be pretty black-thumbed.
In other news, I'm headed to see Patty Griffin tomorrow in Nashville! A friend of mine got tickets at an incredible price - the seats are great - so three of us are heading up for a day trip. Lunch, used book stores, Patty - can't think of a better day than that.

It's at the Ryman, and I'm excited - never been to anything there before. Patty never gets old to me - I think she's tied with Alison Krauss for favorite female artist of all time.

Hope you all had a great weekend and are seeing a good start to the week.

welcome, baby girl

Babies are such a nice way to start people, don't you think?

That's what I thought when I met Baby Girl Graham yesterday. She was born at 2:39 p.m. and weighed in at 8 lbs. 5 oz.

She is beautiful, as you can see.
I am certain she is the start of a wonderfully curly-haired, delightfully witty, enjoyably quirky, and unspeakably precious new life (and fountain of vocabulary).

Those of you who read this are likely familiar with mine and Kate's history via A Tale of Two and know that we go far, far back so seeing her with a baby is going to be pretty surreal for a little while, I think.

These were taken just a few hours after she was born.

This was taken today when I got to hold her - I could have stared at her for days without breaking eye contact. Creepy? Maybe. She's just a little wonder - quiet and very observant.

Congratulations a thousand times over, Kate & Will - I cannot wait to see you as parents!

you get a line & I'll get a pole...

Memorial Day

I remember the first time that the sacrifices of our military men and women really sank in for me. It was just after my sophomore year of college, and I sat beside a small white cross marking the grave of an unknown soldier killed during WWII in the campaign for Normandy.

I sat next to this cross and started to wonder about the life of the soldier that lay beneath it. What was his or her name? Did this soldier have a family? A husband or wife, a mother or father? Children, best friends? What were the desires, fears, dreams, etc. of this person who gave their life for my freedom? What did he hope for, and what did he aspire to?

And since this soldier's identity is unknown, was I the only person ever to have sat next to his grave and wonder these things?

After dwelling on that life for a long time, I stood up and looked across the cemetery at the sea of white crosses scattered as far as I could see. The reality of the loss of war hit me then in a way I don't think it could have had I not spent time dwelling on the loss of one life...how many desires, then, were represented in this whole graveyard? How many dreams, fears, hopes, children unborn, songs and novels unwritten, and medical cures undiscovered?

It was overwhelming to think about. The bravery and sacrifice of these men and women is astounding.

To each veteran out there, to each person serving here or abroad, and to those who gave their lives for our freedom,

Thank you.

And this may sound cheesy, but I'm doing it anyway. After the time I spent next to that little white cross, I vowed that though I didn't know that person's name, I would not let that soldier be forgotten.

And so to THAT soldier, thank you.

I would also like to add this prayer by Scotty Smith, pastor of Christ Community Church in Franklin, TN, courtesy of Ricky Jones via Facebook notes. I love this.

A Prayer About the War to End All Wars

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.
The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. "He will rule them with an iron scepter." He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. Revelation 19:11-16

Most mighty and merciful Jesus, on this Memorial Day I gladly stop to honor the men and women who’ve served our country in various branches of the armed forces. In a world filled with “wars and rumors of war,” I don’t take our servicemen and servicewomen for granted. There’s has never been more of a thankless, even despised job.

But on this particular Memorial Day, I want to stop and honor you as the ultimate servant-warrior—the quintessential Service Man… the One, who on the cross, waged the war to end all wars.

No one hates warfare among vying nations more than you. No one is more offended even by the petty and pointless squabbles between spouses and friends (James 4:1-2). No one paid a greater price to bring the final and full peace for which we intensely long and hope.

Having secured the defeat of the king of darkness on the cross, you’re now the rider on the white horse—alone worthy of the name Faithful and True. You are faithful to fulfill every promise God made for the salvation of his people and the restoration of creation. And you are truly bringing to completion this good work of redemption, for your name is also the Word of God.

Though evil hates beauty, your love trumps all evil. Evil will not prevail. It has been defeated and it will be eradicated. You are already the KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. Your kingdom has come and your kingdom is coming. So very Amen, I pray, in the memory and victory of your matchless name.

last day of school...

Aaaand...release breath. Today was the last day of school, though it doesn't feel like it should be. I don't feel like summer for some reason - I'm definitely still in school-mode.

Here are a few pictures from the last days of school - some of the stuff we did and some of the students I will miss next year probably much more than I think.

This was a really neat group of kids - very unique, smart, loving, creative, hilarious, endearing, and really just delightful. There were some seriously frustrating days with them, but the truth is that they just might be the only group of kids I've had that are, collectively, as quirky as I am.

This is one of my sweetest girls - a budding author, this one. And she knows it. I dubbed her "Sylvia Plath" the first week of school - she writes novels, and boy are they dramatic. And dark, like Plath. She's hilarious - definitely a mini adult. Such a little grown up. Love. Her.

This picture is from our end of school picnic in the park (that's our school in the background - it takes up an entire block). Here are some of my lovelies trying to stay out of the sun. Oh that I would be so careful.

Boys taking a break from basketball

THIS, people, is one of my favorite human beings of all time. She is HILARIOUS and tiny. At a pep-rally in September, she hopped in the middle of a huge circle of kids and BROKE IT DOWN like you have never SEEN! She had a mild physical INJURY after she finished her dance moves. The whole school was cheering for her. She greeted me every morning of the year with a high pitched and very enthusiastic, "Heeeeeyyyy Miss HARDINNNN!!!!"

Isn't she a cutie?

A little synchronized dancing (the bunny hop in case you're wondering) never hurt anyone... Because of this here child, I am a stronger woman. Also because of her my vocabulary has expanded exponentially. Never a dull moment.

Reorganizing the bookshelves...

Some of my homeroom boys -- some of their nicknames include "The Milkman," "BrickSquad," "The Sunny Professor," and "Young Freshness." Speaking of Young Freshness, this is a special 5th grade friend of mine. I taught his brother last year, and he just kind of took to me when he was in fourth grade. Ever since, we get quality time together because his teachers send him up to me when he gets in trouble. Not because I'm a good disciplinarian, but because it's much harder to be such a bad A when you're 9 and in a room full of 14 yr olds. This is him on the day of his promotion ceremony. Check out that shirt...he was BEAMING with pride. Love it.

Last day of class...I feel ya, brother.

They begged me for a worm on the last day of school, and I brought each of them one. I am creating a dangerous army of mini-mes.

Can't believe year #4 has wrapped up. Welcome, summer.

lovely book rooms

Oh to have a bookroom in my house like this...


Or like this, in the mountains...

And my favorite one...

I found each of these on Book Lovers Never Go to Bed Alone - a favorite blog of mine brimming with good photography and good books. If I ever have a book room, this blog will be my inspiration.