Dinner Party Number One (1/11)

Let The Year Of Dinner Parties Begin!

My only resolution this year was to invite people over for dinner. Uncharacteristically, I have already made good on that promise. Last night we had the Breens and the Borders over. It was a raving success, if I do say so myself. We laughed, told stories and thoroughly enjoyed catching up. See, we used to get together A LOT. We even vacationed together at the beach for many years. But life did what it is known to do and took us down different paths. With the Borders moving to Texas, job changes, and kids in different schools, too much time went by.

The beauty of old friends is that you can pick up where you left off. And we did. There's not a quiet one of us in the bunch so we easily resumed our belly laughs and talking over one another. Here's what we ate while doing so:

Hot Bacon & Cheese Dip w/Wheat Thins (appetizer)
French Dip w/Prime Rib
Home-made Au Jus and Horseradish Sauce for Dipping
Potato Cheese Casserole
Crunchy Romaine Salad w/Ramen Topping (thank you, Shelley!)
Four Layer Dessert (Pecan Crust, Cream Cheese, Chocolate Pudding, Whipped Cream)

 Here's what I would've changed: plan the menu (or the date of the party) depending on who is on what diet! I have known Gayla my whole life and Shelley for over 15 years. You'd think I would have seen it coming. Even though Gayla is only in town for a few weeks, she had to weigh in with her trainer this morning! What in the world? And Shelley agreed to a dinner party the night before a photo shoot?? She is in the singing group Point Of Grace, and I am thrilled they have a new record coming out and all, but she wasn't eating much either! I'm really just giving them a hard time, but that may be something I want to consider as I start doing this more regularly. I do admit last night's menu was decadent.

I am happy to share any recipes with you. I wanted to include a picture of my centerpiece for future reference. Gayla gave me the cool vases for my birthday years ago. She has a great eye for interesting home pieces.

Steep, Jagged Trails

Remember the time it snowed on the 4th of July? High on a mountain pass?

Remember when Mike Hud read The Hobbit aloud to us as we sat around the campfire?

Now, what year was it when the brakes went out on our rented jeep? Weren't we rescued by that man who looked like Grizzly Adams?

We ask each other these questions, and many more, as we sit on our screened-in porch in Middle Tennessee. As we gather around the table in honor of whatever holiday or birthday we happen to be celebrating, the conversation will often turn to stories from a lifetime of vacations at "our spot" in Southwest Colorado.

Wasn't baby Sally so cute in her playpen at the campground?

Remember when Chris brought his guitar and he and Jan serenaded us by firelight?

Remember how that dusty old ghost town looked just like a Hollywood set?

Other than these rolling hills of Tennessee, there is no place on Earth that has so woven itself into the fabric of our family's history. We discovered the Uncompahgre National Forest and Mt. Sneffels in the late '70s. We have been going there ever since. My parents hardly ever miss a year.

Wasn't that a crazy trip when Daddy, Hank and Alan had to jog all the way down the mountain in a thunderstorm? While the trail was washing out from under them and lightning was striking all around?

Remember when I tore my ACL on that same trail?

It is part of us. Our valley in Colorado helped make us who we are. I am confident in the strength of my sisters, my parents and myself because I have seen us brave the wilderness. I have seen us carry heavy backpacks up steep, jagged trails.

How many shooting stars did we count that night when we pulled a blanket out into the clearing?

Remember the year that it rained all week? What a welcome to the family for Sean that was!

Who was with us that year that we hiked all the way to the peak? Was it the same year that we went fishing and had trout for breakfast?

The timeline of my memories is as jumbled as the box where Mama stashes photographs from trips gone by. We are small children in one shot and teenagers in the next. My husband, Mark, is in this shot. In another one I am 12. But the backdrop remains the same. From the jewel-toned wildflowers to the turquoise hued glacier lakes, from the strumming of guitars late into the night to the smell of bacon on a chilly morning: all of these memories blend together and the details become less important.

At the end of this week, Mark and Sydney and I will go as a family for the first time. Sydney was only 3 when she and I went with my parents one summer. All she remembers is being stung by a bee. Mark and I were just newlyweds when we went 12 years ago.

 I can't help feeling the anticipation of making new memories with my little family. I am acutely aware of the beginning of the next generation, the passing of the Colorado baton. Years from now, Sydney and her cousins will rummage through boxes of photographs and try to remember what year was such and such and when did this thing or the other happen. I believe they will share the beauty of "our spot" with their own families.

I believe they will be confident of their strength because they, too, will see themselves brave the wilderness and carry heavy backpacks up steep, jagged trails.

Lying In The Street

You dodged a bullet and didn't even know it. I had started a blog entry detailing the ins and outs of my mid-life crisis, but you are spared from that for at least one more week. My friend Bernie, who is a real writer (you may remember her....she used to write for The Nashville Scene when she lived here), is doing a 90 day summertime blog. EVERY day she is telling a different story about her memories of summers gone by. She challenged her readers to write about their summer memories and that sounded so much more pleasant to me than going on and on about some mid-life crisis full of first world problems!

In one of my favorite summer memories, my sisters and I always got a kick out of telling people, "I'm sorry, Daddy can't come to the phone right now. He's lying in the street!" What the stunned caller may not have known was that we lived at the dead-end of a very quiet street. I don't remember what gave my dad the idea to lie down in the street on those summer nights. It was just something that he always did. And we happily joined him.

I remember how the rough pavement felt on my back, still warm from the July sun baking it all day. My parents' property backs up to the Radnor Lake Natural Area, so there are trees covering our house and yard like a canopy. (My Aunt Margaret, who lives in Texas, says she feels claustrophobic when she comes to visit!) However, up on the street, you can see a wide expanse of starry sky. We would star-gaze while various family pets would step on us and lick our faces.

Maybe we were letting our dinner digest. We ate WELL every summer out of my dad's garden. My mom would make her iron skillet corn bread to accompany squash casserole, new potatoes, pole beans and tomatoes. My dad loved to tell us that the vegetables we were eating for dinner had still been growing in his garden that same morning!

I remember a lot of pinching and laughing and wrestling that took place while we lay in the street. It was a rare occurrence, but oh how we loved it, when a car would come driving up the street. We thought it was so funny to hop up, scurry to the side of the road and wave at the surprised passengers as the car drove by.

Now that I am a mom, and middle-aged (crisis and all...ha!), I know why my mom loved lying in the street. It was more about being together than star-gazing or rough housing. I think she had it right. Even in the late 70s and early 80s, life was starting to take on a hustle and bustle. She saw the luxury in summer evenings with nowhere to be. And she probably knew the easy, slow life-style was slipping away.

I'm trying to remember if I've even told Sydney about this childhood memory. Maybe I'll coax her away from the ipad, computer, ipod and TV. Maybe Mark and Syd and I will go lie in the street with my mom and dad. Maybe I'll change my voicemail to say, "I'm sorry I can't take your call right now. I'm probably lying in the street!"

Eulogy Of A Friendship

Most days I am able to accept the fact that we are not friends anymore. I remind myself that perhaps it is for the best and maybe it was inevitable. My attempts at reconciliation have been met with silence. Silence that is even worse than the angry words we lobbed back and forth. It feels like the silence of death. I try to remember the last words I said to you. They are not the words I would have used had I known it was the end. Had I known I would be staring down at the lifeless form that was once our friendship. I am certain of that.

Months have passed now and I no longer reach for the phone to tell you something funny. I make up excuses when my girl wants to invite your girl over to play. I can drive past your house on the way to somewhere else without scanning the kitchen window for signs of the family. I guess this is what divorce feels like. This time last year we were going to the lake and family dinners and girls' nights out. We shared stories and confidences and bottles of wine. Right up until the day that it all stopped. Maybe an autopsy would show that there were warning signs. But it's too late to talk about warning signs now. If they were there, they were missed. Pride and a sense of justice and an angry mother bear clouded any hope of good judgment.

Two or three nights a week, in my dreams, we are friends again. My naive subconscious picks up the shattered pieces and projects them as scenes from happier times. We are at the kitchen table laughing and our husbands are standing around the grill telling stories. Kids and dogs run in and out of the back door. Every once in a while I dream about the moment of reconciliation itself. I can't quite make out the words but I know they involve apologies and forgiveness. I wake up the next morning and for half a minute I believe the dreams are true. But before the relief can spread too far, my mind comes back to its senses.

I wrack my brain to figure out what any of us did that was horrible enough to lose a friendship over. Whatever point I was trying to prove in that moment was not worth it. My anger and hurt feelings in those days pale in comparison to the quiet, heavy sense of loss that has become part of my life.

Those dreams keep me from laying our friendship to rest. Something deep within me believes in miracles and believes the dreams are snapshots sent from God. Most days I can accept that we are not friends anymore, but I had the dream again last night. So today is not one of those days. Today, apologies and forgiveness actually seem possible.

My Master Chef Audition

Subtitle: aka Thank God I'm Boring?

My alarm went off at 6:30 this morning. That NEVER happens on a Saturday morning unless we're leaving for a fabulous vacation or, as was the case today, I am auditioning for Master Chef. I quickly showered and tried to dress like the middle aged writer/mom/cook that I am these days. (The FAQs on the Master Chef website suggested we wear something that best represents who we are...!?) I pulled my pot of Cinnamon Sweet Potato Soup out of the refrigerator and began heating it while the oven pre-heated for the toasting of my Maple Bacon Cornbread Croutons. I drizzled the butter over my carefully cubed croutons and popped them in the oven. All my prep went off without a hitch.

I was confident that my high powered thermos would keep the soup hot for at least 6 hours. It had proven itself last Halloween when I doled out "Ski Lifts"(hot cocoa and peppermint schnapps) to the other parents during our neighborhood's trick-or-treating and Halloween Party.

Maybe everything was going too smoothly. I got to the Culinary School at the Art Institute of Nashville 2 hours before the doors were to open. I had heard that in other cities there were 300 people in line 2 hours early. I was number 6! Okay, great, the good luck continues.

I met and chatted with the other hopefuls until the doors opened at 9:30. For all my sizing up of the people around me (eventually, there were a couple hundred in line), I just couldn't tell who had the goods and who didn't. We were finally led inside where we were given numbers. I was 109. Things continued to go smoothly as I sailed through the registration process and ended up only having to wait for 15 minutes in the "holding room." I was in the first group of 20 who were called into the "tasting room." We each had a small table and were given 3 minutes to plate our dish. My soup and croutons were both still hot!

My heart pounded as the chef started with the guy to my left, Nick, #110. He had never even seen the show but I could tell from his dish and his expertise in describing the cooking process that he was the real deal. His upscale potato soup and avocado/lobster salad were plated on a beautiful slab of wood. The soup was in an iron bowl with a handle on top, for heaven's sake!

I have to say that the chef complimented me every bit as much as he did Nick. He said he really liked my soup, but thought the bacon in my cornbread croutons was an especially nice touch. So far, so good. Only a few minutes went by before Gina and Lacey, casting directors for Master Chef, came over to chat with me. I felt confident. I told them I was doing this for all the moms who had put their dreams on hold to focus on raising children. I told them how cooking had been healing for me when I had to walk away from songwriting. And I told them about my pistol of a daughter and my loving, supportive husband. I would find out later that this is not what they wanted to hear.

Raynel with the dread locks, #108, to my right, made this really complicated Chicken Tamale soup with quesadillas that didn't look very good. But then she told me her story. She is raising her 16 year old brother. He ran away two weeks ago. He is somewhere on the streets of Nashville and she is so worried about him.

Although I ended up befriending Nick, #110, he didn't tell me his story. But I did eavesdrop as he talked to the casting directors. He grew up in a bad part of town outside of Atlanta. His family was on food stamps all through his childhood, but he refused to live on junk food. Instead, he taught himself to cook and it has become his passion in life.

Only 6 or 7 people out of the 20 of us were called for the next round. I was not surprised to hear numbers 108 and 110. I am very happy for Raynel and Nick. But I am also thankful for the very thing that probably disqualified me from advancing to the next round: a loving, stable family.

I am sad that some peoples' lives include such cold, cruel versions of reality. I am glad they have a shot at their 15 minutes of fame. As for me, it feels like too high of a price to pay. I'll take my own story any day!

To Hope

I am loving the creative class I am taking on Thursday mornings! We have studied art, poetry, letter writing and art and poetry ABOUT letter writing. Such rich material. I am reminded of something my friend, Joel Lindsey, who is a very successful writer, used to say..."If you are having trouble coming up with something to write about, then it is time to feed the lake!" A silly fishing analogy, but it speaks volumes to the struggling writer! Watch a great movie. Read poetry. Go to an art museum. Look at old photographs. Re-read your favorite novel. Inspiration is waiting to be found.

Today we were encouraged to think about writing a letter to an inanimate object. This form of writing is called "Apostrophe." To my forks and spoons, to my exes, to the Yeti (we studied that poem today!), to my 20 lbs, etc., you get the idea.

We also talked a lot about hope, so that is who my inanimate object letter is to:

To Hope

I have lost you as often as I have found you

Deferred, you have made my heart sick

Re-discovered, you have made it soar

You are a glimmer, deep in the heart of the cynic

You are the last remaining sign of life

in disappointment's flat-line

I often hear that you float, 

but I have also seen you sink

like a doomed ship

waiting patiently to be mined 

as hidden treasure on the ocean's floor
 

I tell the white lie to my little one, 

as long as you believe in this thing or that, 

it is real

but I applaud you for being no less real

when I am plagued by doubt

Once A Writer........

Always a writer. Over the course of my life so far, the drive to write has been a blessing and a curse. On the best of days, it has left me with a great feeling of accomplishment. It has given me great pride to have created something. On a bad day, when the blank page has taunted me or when writing itself seems like a distant memory, I am defeated. The pendulum swings wide and the emotional roller coaster ride is both exhilarating and terrifying for me....and for most writers.

I now know how it feels to NOT write for a long period of time. No song, blog, short story or scrap of an idea has ventured forth from my troubled mind in over a year. And I did it on purpose. I turned my back on it. It just didn't seem practical and it certainly wasn't going to pay the bills. It was a busy year full of more than our fair share of changes. I worked hard on my cooking business and on being a supportive wife and mother. The occasional well-crafted song or beautifully written blog made me feel a little wistful, but not enough to do anything about it.

And yet, here I am revisiting my blog. So, something did happen to end the drought. It was nothing dramatic. It was talking about writing over coffee with a songwriter friend.  It was the fledgling song ideas that started to pop in my head. It was the "creative group" that I joined last week. It was the announcement in the church bulletin about the "worship writing workshop." I probably won't finish my novel or have "2 a day" songwriting sessions anytime soon, but you can bet I will be writing something.

I am going to write because I am a writer. Whether it seems practical or not. Whether I ever make another cent or not. My writing muscle is out of shape, but the drive (and hopefully the talent?) is still in there. Yes, the pendulum will swing wide and the roller coaster will careen out of control at times. But another thing I have learned about writing is that it is not for the faint of heart.

Goodbye, Holly Dog

I will never forget the phone call from Mark. "She's white with brown spots and I scooped her out of the middle of the street," he said. It was early December almost 10 years ago. Mark and some co-workers were taking the back way over to Sonic which meant they had to travel down hilly, winding Holly Tree Gap Road. They couldn't believe it when they saw 6 tiny, female, beagle/spaniel puppies running in and out of the street. They quickly pulled over and started rescuing the little things. Another passerby stopped and said that he had a kennel so he could take Holly's 5 sisters (I pray they have had as happy lives as Holly did!).

We had only had Maggie Dog for 4 months, so we were not in the market for a new puppy. But God knew better. There is no doubt in my mind that Holly (named for the street where she was found!) was meant to be part of our family. She was a diva from the very beginning. We took her to a Christmas party the week that we got her where she was passed around like a beloved newborn baby. We are pretty sure that she never even knew she had been abandoned. Her attitude was one of entitlement and she was not a bit sorry about it. Dr. Hendrix, her vet, belly laughed after feeding her a treat, only to have her look up at him and then spit it out! She was offended because he had taken her temperature in a very.....um, embarrassing place!

She adored Maggie Dog and loved and respected Mark. She only tolerated Sydney. The truth is, I think she wanted to BE Sydney. When she commandeered Sydney's Dora the Explorer couch, we realized that she pretty much wanted one of whatever Syd had. More than anything, I think she believed she was my daughter. Her neediness melts my heart in retrospect. Next to a romp in the woods at my parents' house or a long walk with neighbor, "Aunt" Susan, all Holly really wanted was to sit next to me on the couch as I stroked her ears and belly.

I guess it is a blessing that the cancer took her in only 12 days. She went from being her demanding self to barely being able to walk. We were going to try chemo but in the end she was not even stable enough for that. It was almost midnight last Thursday night when it became clear that we needed to send her on to Doggy Heaven. I had wanted to be with her when the time came, but it was late, cold and rainy, so sweet Mark took her. He stayed with her until the end and said it was all very peaceful. He told her she had been a good dog and that she better remember us when we cross over to Heaven someday.

I don't know how long I will grieve for her. I pray that time will take away the pain and leave joyful memories in its place. One thing I know for sure is that I will never forget her.

Goodbye, Holly Dog. Thank you for the 10 years of love and laughter.

Songwriter Turned Cook!

A little over a year ago I put down the pen and picked up the knife...and roasting pan and immersible blender, etc., etc. I was in a weight loss group (after gaining weight co-writing Point Of Grace's cookbook with them!) with some other women who did not have time to do all the prep and cooking necessary for successful weight loss. A couple of my friends asked if they could pay me to do the cooking for them. Wow - what a novel idea - getting paid to cook?? Through word of mouth only, my business has grown to an email list of 95 people receiving my menu weekly. I take an average of 15 orders per week. And then on Mondays, my healthy foodie customers converge on my house to pick up their healthy meals for the week.

In the last month or so, I have decided to take my business to the next level. I am ready to take on new customers. And I am fully legal. I have insurance and a commercial kitchen. The sky is now the limit. As for my songwriting, I am pretty much a believer in "once a songwriter, always a songwriter!" For now, I am expressing my creativity through beautiful, healthy, TASTY food!

Check out my new blog at http://healthynashvegas.blogspot.com/

If you'd like to purchase the aforementioned Point Of Grace Cookbook entitled "Cooking With Grace" go to www.pointofgrace.net

An Open Letter To Amy Grant

Dear Amy,

I want you to know how very deeply I am moved by your new record. Jennifer gave me a copy two days ago and it promptly became the CD that repeats over and over in my car as I run around town, mostly doing mom things. As I listened I was transported back to my childhood on "Arms Of Love." I was struck with just how long you have had an influence on my life. Unlike the vast majority of your fans, I have actually known you personally since the early 80's. We have lived similar lives (except for the fact that you became a celebrity). We both grew up in Nashville and we both grew up at Belmont Church where both of our fathers were elders. You went on retreats with our youth group and spoke in our Sunday School class. I will never forget the day that you let us help you and Michael teach "Thy Word" to the congregation.

You and I have never been close but have always had a friendly relationship. I have had a unique opportunity to watch you live out your faith. Sometimes it was up close as I babysat your children and did "The Loft" with you. A lot of the time it was from afar but I was always watching. Being six years younger than you, I thought of you as a role model. As I grew older I realized that you were not perfect. But what you ARE is way more important. You are genuine. I would tell your listeners that you mean every word on this new project. What you are singing about it so unique to you, yet SO universal at the same time. Thank you for saying the hard stuff. The vulnerable stuff.

The different circles that we run in often intersect. And I am thankful when they do. But in case I don't see you in the near future I wanted to go ahead and thank you for inspiring me as a fellow songwriter, mom and woman of God. Our ages don't seem that far apart these days and as I listen to your music, I recognize that we have arrived at similar places in our lives.

I am so glad you made this record. It's just what I needed and I think it's what the rest of the world needs right now too!

Love,

Julie

P.S. Meet me at Bread & Co. 10-12 years from now when our last little birds have left the nest! Maybe we can catch up then!

What If

I broke my self-enforced vow of songwriting silence today. It was time. I had put it off long enough, even going to such great lengths as writing a cookbook to keep from having to write a song. I was a little rusty, but I had expected to be. My co-writer, Phil Madeira, was as gracious and funny as ever and I am sure this helped to ease my nerves.

I am still trying to figure out all of the reasons that I felt betrayed enough by songwriting that I would consider walking away. The music industry is one of the few businesses where talent and hard work don't always add up to success. It is hard to know that some of your best work will never see the light of day. That shows you right there that I don't necessarily write for the love of writing. I admit that I want to be heard, to be recognized. Most of all, I think I just got tired of feeling like I was spinning my wheels.

Writing the cookbook with Point Of Grace reminded me about the joy of creating. I can now hold in my hands a beautiful, hardback book full of my heart and soul and words where six months ago there was no such thing. I had an idea and said, "What if....?" Well, what if I approached my songwriting that way? What if I didn't worry about "commerciality" and trying to compete? What if I actually had fun with it again?

After chatting for awhile, as songwriters tend to do, Phil and I wrote a very irreverent, bluegrass funeral song! As Phil and I talked about his good buddy Tom Howard's funeral, I distinctly remember Phil saying, "Hey, what if we wrote a song about directions for your own funeral?" Even with my semi-phobia of funerals, I whole-heartedly agreed. And the song turned out great. Special, even. There was a time that I would have tried to talk him out of it, that I would have pushed for something a little more practical....and commercial. I would have missed out on being part of a great song.

The melancholy side of me sees the glass as half empty. I appreciate that darker side of myself and draw from it often in my writing. But that is also the side of me that answers the question, "What if?" with "It would never work."

If I appeal to my lighter side, the side of myself that has seen doors swing wide open lately, then I would answer that question with a resounding, "Yes! What if!"

Following

Now that I am re-committed to my own blog, I find myself wanting to read other blogs, especially those of my friends. On the other hand, when I am NOT blogging, the guilt - and probably envy - keeps me from reading anybody else's. If I had realized how inspired I would be by the blogs of my friends, then I would've started "following" their blogs ages ago!

"A Life In The Arts" is Phil Madeira's blog. It reads like a novel, reminiscent of Pat Conroy. Phil is a studio musician, producer, singer/songwriter and a visual artist, as well. His writer's "voice" is beautiful in the same way that his singing voice is beautiful: deep, gruff and hauntingly familiar.

"lovinglorilee" is Lori Loving's hilarious new blog. It is full of wacky, embarrassing, true stories that will have you snickering in front of your computer one minute, and the next minute you will be reeling from the impact of a spiritual truth. She weaves the sacred and the humorous together beautifully and will leave you wondering what will happen next!

"The Flip Project" is the brave undertaking of Nicolle Clawson. On January 1, she gave herself the mission to shoot a short video EVERY DAY during 2010 and write a blog to accompany it. Twenty eight days in, her blog is already a huge success. Her videos and blogs have included a car on fire, suspected polygamy next door and the ups and downs of building a career as a singer/songwriter. Intriguing, huh?

"Reflections On Being Present" is Jenna Schrader's blog. The title of the blog speaks volumes. Jenna chronicles her quest to learn about God, life and herself through her nature walks. (and trail running!) Peace emanates from her pages and they read almost like a devotional. She posts beautiful photographs, mostly of her beloved "heart rocks," which she collects. This blog makes me want to commune with nature more often!

"Vacation Boy" belongs to Joel Lindsey. He started keeping the blog several years ago when he wanted to record his 30 day writer's retreat in Cape Cod. He used the blog for accountability. He still uses it for accountability (just the other day he posted that we'd be running the Half Marathon together!), but its highest appeal has to do with his honesty about the music business. And his encouragement. You will read his blog and start believing that you can reach your dreams, too!

I highly recommend all five of these blogs. I can honestly say that I feel my own creativity creeping cautiously back. Thank you to ALL my friends (and family members) who inspire me. (You know who you are.) But thank you especially to Phil, Lori, Nicolle, Jenna and Joel who have fed my soul with their beautiful, unique words these past couple of weeks.

I'm glad to be following you.

Blogging About Jogging

Twelve years ago my roommate and I would jog energetically down Belmont Boulevard. We would carry on rousing conversations and laugh and goof off. I felt so alive. We loved to admire the quaint cottages that lined our route and speculate about what the lives of their occupants were like.

Today I found myself in the same neighborhood and barely had the strength to look at the passing scenery as I urged my very out of shape body down the sidewalk. I am training for the Music City Half Marathon. I have been officially in training for only a week and it is killing me. I was excited when I heard that we (my running group from church and I) would be running in the Hillsboro Village/Belmont area today. Last Saturday we ran the Shelby Bottoms trail and it was beautiful, but there was not much to look at besides the river and the overgrown brush. Today there was a LOT going on: people were walking and running and pushing strollers and sitting on front porches. It was sunny and almost 50 degrees. And I BARELY got through it. I did not enjoy a minute of it. Oh, I felt great afterward as I sat drinking coffee at Bongo Java with the "twenty-somethings." But I was in pain for my entire run. I only ran 3.5 miles and it baffles me to think that I will run almost 10 miles further than that on race day in late April. You may wonder, "then why do it?" And I would tell you that I want to do it to prove to myself that I CAN! I'm also a little inspired by "The Biggest Loser." Those contestants usually run a FULL marathon at the end of the season. If they can do it, I know I can do it. My friend Joel actually pushed me over the edge when I was trying to decide whether or not to commit to it. He is one of those people who can do most anything, whose attitude is "why not?!" We are going to do the half marathon together and don't even get me started on how envious I am that he gets to train in Santa Barbara, running along the beach!

Anyway, the theme that seems to be running through my life right now is that anything worth having is worth working really hard for! There is a part of me that wishes things were easier, that wishes I didn't have to have hard conversations and wrack my brain for song ideas and exercise regularly and use every ounce of discipline to stop eating junk food! But I just have to keep telling myself that they WILL get easier if I keep pushing through the hard stuff and DON'T GIVE UP!

I wonder where we're running next Saturday?!

Sometimes Things Pan Out

In this industry where things seldom pan out, I am very blessed to announce that the Point Of Grace cookbook (Cooking With Grace) has gone to press and their record (with my song on it) is "in the can!" The record and cookbook are due out on March 2nd!

One of the most exciting things that can happen to a songwriter is to be invited to the studio to hear your song being recorded. Well, that happened to me in October, just two days after my birthday. I wrote "The Greatest Show On Earth" with the girls in Point Of Grace and Cindy Morgan. Another thrill that day was meeting their producer, Nathan Chapman. Yes, THAT Nathan Chapman, of Taylor Swift fame! The song sounds amazing and I am proud to be on the record.

The cookbook has been a labor of love. Point Of Grace's record label Word/Warner decided they wanted to publish it and furthermore, wanted it to be released in conjunction with the new record. We found this out in late November. Suddenly we were on a December 23rd deadline. You have never seen such scrambling and hard work. There were many nights that I could send out an email at midnight and receive 3 or 4 responses immediately. Point Of Grace was a dream to work with, as was Chuck Hargett, our designer, and Jill Tomalty and Tim Marshall from Word Records. If you are still waiting on a Christmas gift from me, just rest assured that I have a cookbook for you. I barely even had time to be Santa's little elf this year!

Now, it wouldn't be a Nashvegas Native blog without a little melancholy. Don't get me wrong. I am SO happy and thankful for these promising developments. I just have to admit that I am feeling a little lost now that this HUGE project is over. The photo shoot for the cookbook cover was last week and the book went to the manufacturer two days later. The next two days were "snow days" and then it was the weekend. And then reality set in this week. It is January and I don't have any resolutions or projects or writing appointments. Everybody is inspired and motivated and I just feel tired. I feel the need to refuel and relax. I'm trying to convince myself that it's okay to take some time for myself. After all, while everybody else was going to Holiday parties and Christmas shopping, I was frantically wrapping up the cookbook all during December. Or maybe I'm better off when I have a project. Maybe it's a little bit of both. Maybe I need to relax while figuring out my next project!

Actually, I do have one resolution so far. I want to blog more regularly this year! Please give me a really hard time if you haven't heard from me for a couple weeks!

The Blogger Returns

It has been exactly 6 months since my last confession.....um, I mean blog posting! But sometimes blogging does indeed feel like confession.

And boy, do I have some things to confess! I turned 43 today. I am not ashamed of it, but I have struggled with it more this year than in years past. For me, it always goes back to "what do I have to show for all these years?" Any time I am lamenting my rocky career path, I always end up exclaiming, "and I am 43 (or 30 or 35 or 41), for heaven's sake!" as if there are certain mile stones that ought to have been achieved by such and such age.

I was inspired and moved and brought to tears by the movie, "Julie & Julia" yesterday. I saw it by myself. In fact, it was the first time I have EVER seen a movie by myself. (which is a whole other can of worms for later!) It was wonderful. I feel like it was tailor made for me. Julia Child never published a cookbook until well into her forties. She couldn't even boil an egg at age 40! Such a message for women, like myself, who are still pursuing crazy dreams a little later in life! It was even more inspiring for me, personally, because I AM WRITING A COOKBOOK! Can you believe it? I had the idea a few months ago that my dear friends in Point Of Grace should do a cookbook. We are now in the stage of "shopping" our proposal, but I have no doubt that this is going to happen. For me. At age 43.

Another confession: I had long since lost hope of getting another country cut. Well, more good news came out of the Point Of Grace camp yesterday. They are recording the song that I wrote with them on their country record! This blessed event is happening on Monday. (Needless to say, Point Of Grace is my favorite group in the whole world right now!)

And while I'm confessing, I need to tell you that I have been in the bluest funk for the past few months. My job did not end well at the elementary school last Spring and I found myself in a creative drought. Like the writer, Julie, in the movie, I found a safe haven in cooking. It gave me a sense of purpose. I cooked and baked and sliced and diced my way back to sanity. And one day as I stood in my kitchen, I had the revelation that I could combine this love of food and cooking with my desire to write. I can honestly say that I have never been happier in my career. At age 43.

Maybe I should say some "Hail Marys" or something as penance for my lack of faith!

How I Met Your Father

Dear Sydney,

Since it is your Daddy's birthday, I thought I would tell you the story of how we got together.

It was early in the year 2000. I had recently made some big changes in my life. I had quit my job in the Christian music industry the summer before and had recently gotten a publishing deal. I remember telling my publishers that they were the only men I needed in my life. At 33, I finally realized that if I couldn't find the kind of man who would treat me like I longed to be treated, then I would rather just stay single. So I threw myself into my songwriting. For the first time in my life I quit worrying about when (and if) I would ever get married.

One Wednesday in February - it was Grammy night to be exact - Aunt Betsy and Uncle Sean invited me over for dinner. John and Jeanie were coming too - and your Dad! They had been trying to set us up for two years, but it had never worked out. Your Daddy said that he almost backed out when he heard there were going to be two couples there. He had a feeling he was being set up with someone. I was hesitant too and had told Aunt Betsy, "Okay, I'll come, but I'm not going to try and look cute and I'm going to leave at 9:00 to go to the Gym!"

When your Dad got there, I was in the kitchen making guacamole. I had a huge gash on my head because I had run from the studio to my car in the rain and had hit my head on the car door! I had met him before but had forgotten how nice looking he was. He was tall with beautiful blue eyes (like yours!) and a smile full of mischief (again, like yours!). Suddenly I was wishing I HAD tried to look a little cuter! But he didn't seem to care.

We talked and talked. And laughed. We kept quoting the movie "Fletch" because we both loved it. I sat next to him at dinner and I remember being so impressed with how friendly and outgoing he was with everybody. He asked great questions and he told great stories. I can't remember if I left early, as planned, or not. If I did, I'm sure I didn't WANT to.

He told Uncle Sean the next day that he would sure like to see me again. They planned a double date for Friday night. We went out to hear Jules' brother, Jeff and his band play. I'm sure they were great, but I only remember talking (maybe flirting a little) with Daddy. We had so much fun! I'm sure you can imagine because I see every day how much fun YOU have with him, too.

He called the next day to see if I'd like to go to a concert with him the following weekend (a whole WEEK away!). Of course I said "Yes!" but I was really wishing I could see him sooner! Well, he called again, a couple of hours later, and said, "Hey, you wouldn't want to go see a movie with me tomorrow, would you?" So, we did. After the movie we sat at Green Hills Grill and kept asking each other, "Where have you been?!" We were married just over a year later - on St. Patrick's Day. I didn't think it was possible, but I am even happier today than I was on that day!

I know you are not quite six, but I don't think it's too early to start teaching you the importance of being treated well by a man. It means so much to me when he takes you on "dates". I pray you will never settle for anything less than how your Daddy treats you (and me!). No marriage is perfect, but I never, ever doubt his love for me (and you!). I will never forget him saying one time, in our early days of dating, "I just can't believe I'm actually with Julie Corlew!" And he still makes me feel that special. And you are one blessed little girl to have him as your Daddy!

With much love,

Mama

P.S. You will be hearing this story a lot as you grow up, until one day you stand at the altar with a man of your own who is as kind, loving and generous as Daddy.

The Cool Down Game

Something interesting happened in spin class the other day. It is an unlikely place for an epiphany, but it happened just the same. It was a full class. Between 30 and 40 people show up this time of year - this Resolution time of year. Most of us only know each other in the context of spinning. So, Dean the instructor came up with a game to play during the "cool down" portion of our class. The game is entitled "What Do I Do For A Living?". Over the course of the past several weeks, I have come to find out that I am spinning with surgeons, nurses, pharmacists, fire fighters and the chief of police!

On this particular day, however, I got chosen. I sat there, self-concious, as the members of the class sized me up and shouted out guesses. They thought maybe I was a nurse or a teacher or a stay at home mom. Someone finally noticed my BMI t-shirt, so they started guessing music business jobs and finally, songwriter.

After class was over people started asking me about my writing. They were so kind and interested and supportive. "Good for you!" they said and "Don't worry, you'll get your break soon!" Then the two guys who look like they are in a rock band mozy-ed over.

"We're songwriters, too", they said. And then we "talked shop." We know a lot of the same people and we talked about how tough it is "out there."

"Ya know, you two look familiar.....maybe we've met before," I suggested.

They looked at each other a little sheepishly and then one of them said, "We're the Warren Brothers!"

Oh right!! These were the guys who tried and tried to make it as country artists. They made 3 or 4 records and had several singles that didn't quite make it up to the top of the charts. Then they were judges on Nashville Star. Now they are just writing songs - mostly for other people. (They wrote that "Do It Anyway" with Martina!)

The epiphany?? I left there that day feeling like a songwriter once again. Like the Warren Brothers, my career path has not exactly followed the course that I hoped it would. But that doesn't mean that I'm not a songwriter anymore. It's not just what I do. It's who I AM. I HAVE to create. I wither inside if I don't. I have wasted too much time being disappointed by Music Row and wondering why I haven't gotten the big breaks yet.

No matter what happens, I will always be a songwriter. Every bit as much as Brett and Brad will always be The Warren Brothers.

Private

Joel and I agreed that if he would blog, I would blog. This was supposed to take place last night. Well, he did - and I didn't. I thought a lot about what I wanted to say. And about what I didn't want to say. I knew that the title was going to be "Private". But when it came down to it, I went Christmas shopping instead. So now here I am a day late and a dollar short - uh, make that $167 short!

The reason I titled today's post "Private" is because that is how I have been feeling lately. I think that is the reason I have not blogged in over a month. I am not a private person by nature. So this feeling surprises even me. I am usually an open book. I tend to spill my feelings and secrets and stories and frustrations quite freely. I have had many things on my mind, but I have not felt the need to hash (and re-hash) them over publicly.

In the second chapter of Luke, the Bible tells the story of Jesus' birth. The angels are singing and the shepherds are proclaiming the news of His birth. Kings and commoners and farm animals are crowded around His manger. So much is going on at this moment in history. And yet........the scripture goes on to say, "but Mary treasured all these things in her heart." And I can relate to that feeling so much right now! And not just because Christmas is rapidly making its way to town. I am so thankful for my little family. It's more than I can effectively express in words. But I can say that my heart, like Mary's, is full of hope for the future. It is full of an awareness that I am alive at an important time in history. It is full of a sense of purpose.

I could go on and on and keep trying to express all that I am thinking and feeling right now. But I think I'd rather just treasure these things in my heart for a little while longer.

(Interestingly enough, Joel blogged about privacy, too. Check out his blog at http://thistlelane.spaces.live.com)

One Year Later

I have been blogging for a year now. Hard to believe. It's also hard to believe that I'm another year older. I celebrated (and celebrated and celebrated) my birthday over two weeks ago. On the day of, I got my hair done, met my girlfriends at my favorite Thai restaurant and then got my toes done with Jules. And to top it off, Mark, Syd and I went with my parents to Cheesecake Factory for dinner that night! The next night Mark and I met some more friends at Margot, my favorite "trendy" restaurant. We mostly drank wine and laughed. To round off the eating frenzy, we had dinner at my parents' later that weekend. Betsy made mouth watering chicken enchiladas and cheese cake........

Five pounds. In case you were wondering how many pounds I have packed on. FIVE! Now, I don't think I gained them all during my birthday week, but it has definitely been in the nine weeks since school started!

And how do I know it has been nine weeks since school started?? Why, report cards came out today, of course! There were no surprises. We had our parent/teacher conference last week and Miss Robinson went over everything with us. Our favorite quote from Syd's teacher: "Sydney is showing a lot of leadership skills for a Kindergartner - some may call it bossy - but I choose to call it leadership!" We laughed. We live with this child and are no strangers to her personality traits. I was so nervous beforehand. I guess every parent wants their child to be the smartest and most well-behaved. But it seems that Syd has trouble being a good listener sometimes and she has not quite mastered writing her lower case letters and the number 2! These things were outweighed by the fact that Sydney is an eager participant in all activities and is empathetic toward her friends. It's a little harder to teach that stuff, huh?

So, a year ago I couldn't have predicted how things would look today. I thought Sydney would be going to a different school. I wouldn't have dreamed I'd have a part-time job. Juliana had not even gone into the studio yet. Mark's new deal was no where near done. Things look better than I would've thought back then. It has been a tough year at times, but I am better because of it. With or without the five pounds.

The Stars Are Aligning..........In Their Own Timing

A friend and co-worker paid me a high compliment yesterday. She had downloaded Juliana Cole's record off iTunes and really liked the music. She walked into school yesterday and asked me, "What in the world are you doing working in the workroom if you are writing these great songs??" My sentiments exactly. Well, not exactly. Because I am thankful for the job. The little bit of extra money helps. But I agree with her in that Juliana (Jules will heretofore be referred to by her artist name - cuts down on the confusion!) is in L.A. and Phoenix doing gigs and TV shows and I am making 110 white paper barns for 1st graders! That's really just the nature of the entertainment business, though. One day you're waiting tables (or making copies) and the next thing you know you're riding in a limo headed to an awards show. It happens all the time. I have faith that it's going to happen for us. It's just the darn lag time. Or God's timing. I want it now. But there are greater forces at work that I don't understand. Maybe it will all make sense in retrospect.

For now, I am grateful for any good news. Last Tuesday, the day that Juliana's record was released, we found out that she was featured on the main page of iTunes. Mark says this is huge - and he knows these things. Two days later we found out that the record was charting on iTunes. Number 91 in sales out of thousands of pop artists! So, strangers are buying this record?? I only bought ONE - it's not like we're stacking the deck or anything! Juliana called while I was writing this blog. The show went great last night. One of those shows that goes off without a hitch. Effortless. And there were four music supervisors from various film and TV companies in attendance. The guy from ABC emailed this morning to say how great he thinks Juliana's music is. And then the TV show went great this morning in Phoenix. Everything is falling into place. Slowly.........but surely. One of these days in the not too distant future, I know we will get some BIG good news. Life changing good news.

Until then, you will find me in the workroom at the elementary school. Humbled, thankful and full of expectation.

www.julianacole.com