Thanks to my sweet friend, Galit, we embarked on our own version of bringing faces together. Last month, we celebrated with Spaghetti Saturday. This month, last night, we had friends over to gather in our front yard and eat sausages: Brats, Polish, Hot Link, and weenies.
I'm having such a great time meeting with our neighbors and our friends and fellowshipping in the front yard. Last night it was chilly. And when the sun went down over our neighbor's house it got cold.
Those of us who were still braving the dropping temp and were huddled around the propane grill decided to move it inside. The great conversation continued.
I only made screen contact one time--when Daughter 2 helped a little eighteen month old cutie-patootie onto the hammock with her. She carefully put her arm around him to secure him next to her and he awkwardly returned the gesture by putting his arm around her back. Preciousness indeed.
This is why I am loving our Saturdays in the Front Yard. Interactions are authentic and spontaneous and perfect.
I found myself feeling very sad when I said, "We'll continue our get-togethers after the holidays."
And we will continue them. I cannot wait.
I encourage you to find a way to connect face-to-face. Now or after the holidays.
Showing posts with label screenless. Show all posts
Showing posts with label screenless. Show all posts
November 2, 2014
October 6, 2014
Saturday in the Park (or Front Yard)
My sweet friend, Galit Breen, began posting about a thing called Friday Night Meatballs, which mainly served to make me want to be her next door neighbor that much more.
But her Friday Night Meatballs really reawakened me to a much simpler time.
When I was younger, it was nothing at all for my own momma to feed the neighborhood ... or for the neighborhood to feed us. I remember specifically one evening she stepped out onto the front lawn and called out that she'd made spaghetti. That night, we had about a gazillion people over for dinner. On another occasion, a neighbor hollered out they were grilling hamburgers (my favorite meal ever!) and, once again, the entire neighborhood gathered to chomp on some grilled goodness.
That was also a time when long distance cost money. If you wanted to send someone a picture, you'd have to take it, send the film off to be developed, mail it and then wait for that person to mail you back a thank you. Or not. Waiting for mail was so danged hard!
Because of technology--which I'm still considering a blessing--we can now send that picture in a millisecond to its intended destination without much effort or expense. However, we spend so much time behind our screens that we don't get much of a chance to fellowship, face-to-face.
Truthfully? Behind-the-screens is where I'm best. I'm an introvert at heart and, while I can address a group of five hundred people keeping their attention for three hours (and have done so before), I'm not good at face-to-face interaction in a smallish group. And meeting someone one-on-one? Unless I know you very, very well? That's my least comfortable position to be in.
But, I find myself craving real-time, real-life fellowship.
Because Brian thrives on social interaction and enjoys face-to-face with total strangers and best of friends alike, he was all about having people over.
"Who do we invite?" I asked.
"Everyone," he said.
"What do we serve?" I asked.
"Let's start with spaghetti and meatballs," he said.
So we did.
Saturday night, we had about thirty-five people over for a front-yard feast.
Thirty-five people? you say. I made over ninety meatballs. True story.
Yep. Some of our favorite people were in our front yard. We had some kids on one end playing football. Some kids on the other playing basketball. Some kids were on the hammock. People were exchanging recipes and marveling at the awesome cheesecake that one can buy frozen at Aldi. Really.
We sat in lawn chairs. We stood together. We played. We laughed. We talked. It was nothing short of a great night.
How do I know it was a great night? I enjoyed it. Everyone mentioned how much they enjoyed it. And, aside from checking a text (but not answering it), I didn't hide behind a screen. Not even to take a picture.
Will we do it again? Absolutely. But this time, we won't be serving pasta, which requires a crazy cooking method in order to feed a lot of people at the same time.
In fact, Sausage Saturday has a great ring to it.
Who are your neighbors? Who are your real-life friends? When was the last time you hung out with them in your front yard? I encourage you to meet face-to-face ... and put your screens away.
But her Friday Night Meatballs really reawakened me to a much simpler time.
When I was younger, it was nothing at all for my own momma to feed the neighborhood ... or for the neighborhood to feed us. I remember specifically one evening she stepped out onto the front lawn and called out that she'd made spaghetti. That night, we had about a gazillion people over for dinner. On another occasion, a neighbor hollered out they were grilling hamburgers (my favorite meal ever!) and, once again, the entire neighborhood gathered to chomp on some grilled goodness.
That was also a time when long distance cost money. If you wanted to send someone a picture, you'd have to take it, send the film off to be developed, mail it and then wait for that person to mail you back a thank you. Or not. Waiting for mail was so danged hard!
 |
| Source |
Because of technology--which I'm still considering a blessing--we can now send that picture in a millisecond to its intended destination without much effort or expense. However, we spend so much time behind our screens that we don't get much of a chance to fellowship, face-to-face.
Truthfully? Behind-the-screens is where I'm best. I'm an introvert at heart and, while I can address a group of five hundred people keeping their attention for three hours (and have done so before), I'm not good at face-to-face interaction in a smallish group. And meeting someone one-on-one? Unless I know you very, very well? That's my least comfortable position to be in.
But, I find myself craving real-time, real-life fellowship.
Because Brian thrives on social interaction and enjoys face-to-face with total strangers and best of friends alike, he was all about having people over.
"Who do we invite?" I asked.
"Everyone," he said.
"What do we serve?" I asked.
"Let's start with spaghetti and meatballs," he said.
So we did.
Saturday night, we had about thirty-five people over for a front-yard feast.
Thirty-five people? you say. I made over ninety meatballs. True story.
Yep. Some of our favorite people were in our front yard. We had some kids on one end playing football. Some kids on the other playing basketball. Some kids were on the hammock. People were exchanging recipes and marveling at the awesome cheesecake that one can buy frozen at Aldi. Really.
We sat in lawn chairs. We stood together. We played. We laughed. We talked. It was nothing short of a great night.
How do I know it was a great night? I enjoyed it. Everyone mentioned how much they enjoyed it. And, aside from checking a text (but not answering it), I didn't hide behind a screen. Not even to take a picture.
Will we do it again? Absolutely. But this time, we won't be serving pasta, which requires a crazy cooking method in order to feed a lot of people at the same time.
In fact, Sausage Saturday has a great ring to it.
Who are your neighbors? Who are your real-life friends? When was the last time you hung out with them in your front yard? I encourage you to meet face-to-face ... and put your screens away.
August 9, 2014
Seven
My friend, Jennifer, and I recently had a conversation about food. I told her that our taste buds change every seven years. It's true. Well, it's true as far as I know. In fact, I know a lot of stuff, kinda. You want me on your trivia team. Trust me on this one. But, that's not the point of this post. Unless you are looking for a trivia team member, then here I am!
Anyway ...
We then talked about how things seem to change every seven years. You keep your tax stuff and financial stuff for seven years. Seven is supposed to be a lucky number. Seven is a Biblical significant number. And it got me to thinking about my writing--my blogging.
I actually started blogging (for the third time) in January of 2006. I've been blogging for over seven years. Eight years, if you want to get all mathematical about it.
Since then, we've moved several times; I've gotten two IUDs (not at the same time); Daughter 1 is starting her last year of middle school; Brian was outted as The Dad; I've become a published author! (You've read my books, right?) I've scored a regular segment on Tulsa Live. I'm a syndicated columnist. Brian and I have changed jobs ... twice for me, more for Brian. Daughter 2 is becoming quite the softball player, and Daughter 1 will certainly be the next Christina Kim.
And in the past few months, our lives have changed even more since my own momma had her stroke and has now moved in with us. (She's doing very well, y'all. Thanks for the thoughts and prayers!)
What's my point? I'm not really sure other than my blogging has suffered. I'm still, though, composing blog posts in my head almost constantly. Blogging, my friends, is one of my favorite things ... I'm not sure why I've forsaken it in the past few months, but I plan on changing that.
For the next seven days? I will blog. Daily. That's one week.
Seven.
Keep reading. I'll be back tomorrow.
Anyway ...
We then talked about how things seem to change every seven years. You keep your tax stuff and financial stuff for seven years. Seven is supposed to be a lucky number. Seven is a Biblical significant number. And it got me to thinking about my writing--my blogging.
 |
| Source |
I actually started blogging (for the third time) in January of 2006. I've been blogging for over seven years. Eight years, if you want to get all mathematical about it.
Since then, we've moved several times; I've gotten two IUDs (not at the same time); Daughter 1 is starting her last year of middle school; Brian was outted as The Dad; I've become a published author! (You've read my books, right?) I've scored a regular segment on Tulsa Live. I'm a syndicated columnist. Brian and I have changed jobs ... twice for me, more for Brian. Daughter 2 is becoming quite the softball player, and Daughter 1 will certainly be the next Christina Kim.
And in the past few months, our lives have changed even more since my own momma had her stroke and has now moved in with us. (She's doing very well, y'all. Thanks for the thoughts and prayers!)
What's my point? I'm not really sure other than my blogging has suffered. I'm still, though, composing blog posts in my head almost constantly. Blogging, my friends, is one of my favorite things ... I'm not sure why I've forsaken it in the past few months, but I plan on changing that.
For the next seven days? I will blog. Daily. That's one week.
Seven.
Keep reading. I'll be back tomorrow.
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