Caterpillar Massacre

            I like to walk.  At this point in life, it’s one of my favorite ways to exercise.  Even Amelia can get involved.  Of course, Scout’s a big fan.  So, whenever we can, we take the whole crew to the Greenway.  I most definitely miss the Hendersonville Greenway and the walking trails at Moss-Wright Park, but the Greenway in Boone is beautiful, even if it could use a path that’s a little smoother in some spots. 

            This afternoon, Amelia and I visited the Greenway without Adam or Scout.  We had a fairly uneventful walk, with only one shoe being thrown and only a handful of whines about being confined to the stroller when there weren’t enough dogs or people or trees or other interesting things to watch.  We rounded the curves and followed our usual route.  This route includes a path that’s completely shaded by trees on our way back to the car.  It’s always a greener, quieter, more contemplative part of the walk.  Scout rarely does big business there; even she seems to appreciate that it’s nearing the end of our walk.

            Today, as I entered that stretch of the path, I was caught unaware as I felt something under my shoe.  I assumed it was a crack in the sidewalk or a leaf or something on that inconsequential level.  When it seemed to stick with my shoe, I finally looked down.  I found that I could barely see the path.  There was a multitude of thin, black and yellow caterpillars covering the ground.  Some were moving, some were not.  Needless to say, the caterpillar that first drew my attention was in the latter category.   Perhaps, I had stumbled upon the Great Caterpillar Migration or the Caterpillar Trail of Tears or something equally definitive in the society of the caterpillars.  Horrified, I tried to tiptoe past the grouping, without disturbing more than necessary.  Of course, Amelia’s three-wheeled stroller took up too much room to be too careful.  So, I took the path of least resistance and left a dreary wake as I raced past the stampede.

            This wildlife encounter reminded me of a day earlier this month when I was playing with one of my preschoolers on the playground at their daycare.  She found a worm and was captivated.  I narrated the experience and tried to continue the interest, bringing other friends over to share.  They all watched, pointed and explored.  It was adorable.  And then, it happened.  The original student who had discovered the worm took action.  While the other students watched, she suddenly took aim and…stomped.  The worm had no chance.  Amid the brown splotch that was left on the sidewalk, I scrambled to divert the attention of a very observant group of preschoolers. 

            Maybe it’s just in my world, but it has not been a good month for creepy-crawlers.  Even though I’m not normally a fan, of course, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. 

I could turn this into a metaphor for our lack of control in life or drone on about the circle of life or how everything has a purpose.  But, tonight, on a Sunday night, with another workweek looming, I’m not going there.  Sorry.  Tonight, dear faithful, patient, perseverant reader, you’ll just have to accept this random story, join me in feeling sorry for caterpillars, and hold out for a (hopefully) more poignant, relatable, well-written post next time. 

Greg Maddux's jersey, Taylor Swift’s favorite number backwards and Tomorrow

Yes, we are playing Pyramid and hopefully, this game isn’t as tough for you as it is for Joey Tribbiani.  For this one, the answer is the number 31.           

Tomorrow is my 31st birthday (or today is my 31st birthday eve or today is the day that I celebrate 30 and 364 days).  Nominally, tomorrow is not as momentous a day as it was last year.  There is no decade coming to an end, no new over the hill jokes coming my way, and there are no wistful country songs written about turning 31.  All that being said, tomorrow marks the beginning of a new year, a new age.  Today, I am valuing the close of 30 and anticipating the beginning of 31.  Any of you who have persevered through my wonderments can’t possibly be surprised that nostalgia in all its glory is rampant tonight.  Sammy Hagar put it surprisingly well when he said, “Every year on your birthday, you get a chance to start new.”

            On paper, this may not be a monumental birthday, but in reality and in possibly the understatement of the decade, it has been no less than a monumental year.  The first half of my 30^th year was event heavy, but those particular events were enough to last me the whole year and then some.  During one third of the past year, I became a mother, moved unexpectedly and started a new job.  It was an overwhelming whirlwind of a trifecta. 

            The events of my 30^th year have undeniably and irrevocably affected who I am at 30 years and 364 days old.  While events in our lives do most definitely shape who we are, I have repeatedly discovered this year that I am not defined by any one of the hats that I wear.  Right now, I am at a point in my life where I juggle quite a few parts of my life.  Often, they don’t overlap, but that isn’t always the case.  I am many things and all of it somehow adds up to be just Katy.  I don’t feel like adding sides to myself takes away from others…that in and of itself may be a rant for another day…

            While I love the beginning and ending signified by birthdays, one of the reasons I am enjoying getting older is that age doesn’t mean that I lose anything. Katy at nearly 31 has built on Katy at 23 and at 16 and at 9; I haven’t lost the girl I was at any of those times. 

            “The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been.” – Madeleine L’Engle

            Anyway…I hope you’ve all had a wonderful my-birthday-month so far, a terrific my-birthday-week and now, happy my-birthday-eve to all of you!

The Avengers, Thank You Notes and Mother’s Day

I am one of those people; I love superhero movies.  The capes, the absurdity, the illogical awesomeness; I’m a fan.  I like the super powers and the fun.  Adam and I were able to go see the new Avengers movie this week.  I could nearly fangirl out about it for a while, but that’s not what’s on my mind at the moment.  During this movie, we are given a glimpse into the personal lives of a few characters that hadn’t previously been given as much of the spotlight.   Surprisingly, one of the flashbacks touched on a theme I was not expecting. 

            This isn’t necessarily a spoiler, but I am going to mention a little bit that is revealed during the movie.  Heads up.  In the movie, we find out that Black Widow is unable to have children.  The disturbing cause of her infertility aside, this is a revelation that is obviously and understandably very painful for this character.   While I cannot pretend to understand what that would be like, my heart goes out to her. 

Every woman faces their own battles in the world of children.  None of the lives we choose are easy.  Days like Mother’s Day can be beautiful and as a mom celebrating her first Mother’s Day this weekend, I am especially attuned to that messy beauty this year.  I am also utterly lucky.  I have a beautiful, healthy, amazingly wonderful almost-one year old daughter that I absolutely adore and who I most certainly wanted. I couldn’t be more thankful for this part of my life…a part that I was able to choose.   

Mother’s Day doesn’t feel as beautiful or come as easily to everyone.  So, since it’s Friday, I’m going to follow Jimmy Fallon’s lead and throw out some thank you notes (you’ll have to hum the thank you note music in your head, but envision my with my pen raised and a serious look on my face for each note).

            Thank you, Moms (traditional and not), for wiping noses, giving hugs, listening, being chauffeurs, cooks, nurses, a million other things and best friends.  Thank you for doing the best you can and showing us how to become ourselves.  Thank you for being yourself and for not losing that as you learned how to be a mom.

            Thank you, Moms-to-be, whether that time is imminent or a long time coming.  Thank you for your patience, your hope and your love; love that’s already in place and waiting to be given out.

            Thank you, Moms who have lost children, for continuing to cherish the memories and to love your children.  Thank you for continuing to be a mom and for dealing with the awkward and bumbling attempts the rest of us make with you.

            Thank you, women who choose not to be mothers, for knowing yourselves.  Thank you for facing all of the when you’ll have children or why you won’t or any number of other prying questions that aren’t thought through.

            Thank you, reader, for knowing that I am probably leaving out someone but realizing that it’s unintentional.  Thank you for accepting my well meaning, albeit poorly worded intentions.

            Maybe next time I’ll gush about my first Mother’s Day or share my not-so-deep thoughts about another first “holiday” with Amelia, but for now, I’ll just say, to all of you, Happy Mother’s Day Eve Eve.

It Smells Like Music

No...the title of this post is not a play on Nirvana's smash hit from 1991. It's one of my favorite things that Katy has ever uttered. We were at Merlefest, and I smelled something unfamiliar. I asked Katy, "What is that smell?" Her witty retort was, "It smells like music." I still have yet to figure out exactly what music smells like, but with some time I may be able find out what makes up that alluring scent. Perhaps, I'll be able to bottle it up, and sell it - TM Adam King.

Recently we attended my 4th Merlefest in Wilkesboro, NC. As far as music festivals go, this is the most family friendly one that I've attended. So it was great to take Amelia (Yes, we took our 10 month old to a bluegrass music festival) to share in the music, moments, and memories. We always love hearing live music, and discovering new bands. With the lineup at this year's Merlefest, Katy and I were most excited to see The Avett Brothers.

Katy has seen them many times, and I've seen them on 4 separate occasions. You may be asking yourself, "Why would you see 1 band so many times?" Well....some bands are worth it to me, and every show is different. Every time we've seen The Avett Brothers, they have had someone different accompany them - sometimes for the entire show. Halfway through their set, I turned to Katy and said, "I hope they play 'Murder in the City'."

It's one of my favorite tracks of theirs, and I had never seen them play it live. It's a great song about murder, revenge, grace, family, and love. It's a murder ballad, but not in the typical way.  A few minutes after I told Katy about my hope. Scott Avett began a solo, and the familiar chords rang out amongst the hills surrounding the Watson Stage. It did my heart good to hear that song, and that's why I love live music. It's also the reason I'll see some bands multiple times.

I have a question that I like to ask people. It tells me a lot about them by answering 1 question - so I'll ask you to0:

What are your top 3 concerts of all time? I'll give you my 3...with a caveat - my list changes based on who I've recently seen, and how I'm feeling that day.

1. Neil Young & Crazy Horse at Bonnaroo 2003
2. Nickel Creek at The Ryman 2014
3. Ben Folds with the Nashville Symphony at Jackson Hall 2010 (#3 is constantly in flux)

So....there you have it - Go!