Get Your Motor Runnin'...

We are looking for a new automobile...not really brand new just new to us.  Sparta is opposed to new, fresh, shiny, from the factory cars because that would mean payments, full coverage insurance and instant depreciation. Here is auto wisdom per Sparta:  a car is not an investment; it is unwise to spend that much money on something that devalues so quickly; a car is a tool to get you to and from where you need to be. He is right on all counts.( I don't like that he is right.)

I've read a couple of articles about frugal millionaires and learned that Warren Buffet, Jim Walton and the world's richest man Carlos Slim drive older cars in their day to day lives.  The Financial Peace guy, Dave Ramsey, advises not to buy new and says that leasing is not the way to go either. I think I've heard him say something along the line of if you've leased you've been fleeced.  So you see, Sparta is in good company with his beliefs and opinions.

It doesn't matter though that my transportation won't be new, because it won't be a mini-van. (Insert Happy Dance Here).  Since Ben rarely rides anywhere with us anymore and Allison is on the verge of her permit we don't  have to have a van.  For the first time in 15 years I will get to drive a car a real, honest-to-Pete, four door car as a primary means of getting back and forth.  YIPPEE!!!

Honestly, I never was a van type of person. Although I have been driving one for what seems an eternity now, it never felt quite right- I sort of felt like a steak in a room full of vegetarians.  Now to figure out what will let me feel like me. Autotrader.com here I come.

Mmmm...That Sounds Good



The fam chowing down



Ben tried out for the basketball team this year. He is a senior and last tried out and made the team as a freshman.  During that season he didn't get a lot of play time but he did get a girlfriend. Girl trumps basketball or at least it did back when he was 15.

When first cuts were made during this tryout, he didn't make it.  His ego was hurt and his pride battered but he displayed a level of maturity not frequently seen up to this point. There was no blaming of the coaches, no excuse offered for poor play. He just accepted it and looked for the lesson(s) to be found.  Even so, he still needed a little help to feel better and nothing provides a body comfort like favorite foods. For Ben it was grilled steak and macaroni-n-cheese. Ahhh, an icepack to the bruised ego.

Not only is comfort found in certain foods, specific dishes also serve to remind me of people and places. Food (as much if not more than photos) tends to open the door that leads down memory lane.  Sock-it-to-me cake, butterscotch pie, and biscuits with chocolate gravy  make me think of Mawmaw Gann. Nobody makes potato salad like Aunt Sheila and it's impossible for me to eat fried chicken and not compare it to my mother's. YUM!  I wonder which foods will be the ones my children remember most from childhood.



Banana Pudding



 In addition to the requisite family recipes- Thanksgiving dressing (it still never turns out just like mom's), beef tips, Martha Washington candy, sweet potato casserole and banana pudding - I have some others I consider quite dear. With each move our family has made, I have asked for recipes from friends. I may not see them often and it is even possible our paths will never cross again, but I cannot prepare those special dishes without thinking of the person from whom each one came. A couple of examples are a soothing chicken soup with bowtie pasta, the recipe came from a sweet friend in Hartselle, Alabama and a cool macaroni salad from a dear friend in Lynchburg, Virginia.  These women impacted my life with their friendship for a season, but I keep them close even now through their recipes.

Sparta has trouble remembering many things but not the first meal I cooked for him. Yellow rice and black beans with corn muffins always elicit the same response "Hey baby, you cooked this for me the first time you cooked for me".  I believe it's true the way to a man's heart is through his stomach at least in the case of my man.

Is this sentimentalization of foods insane? I don't think so but..............

A Lesson From Wesley

My younger son's bed is always in disarray when he gets up each morning.  He most definitely does not sleep in one position, he is all over the place. When I went to make his bed this morning both the top and fitted sheets were completely off the bed. As I reached behind the mattress to tuck the bottom sheet back in place, I caught a glimpse of brightly colored paper. "Uh-oh", I thought, "probably a form from school, karate or church that I have missed".  I reached between the mattress and headboard and pulled the paper out and saw in his precious 8 year old handwriting "thank you God mail".

I couldn't resist opening it up and reading what he wanted to say to God:

dear God
Please make my arm heal and thank you for food and water you bring all of us and make tomorrow a good day and make every day a good day please make my secret real. P.S. from Wesley Alden Cagle
thank you note for God.

I assume he wrote this couple of weeks ago after he had fallen off the trampoline and landed on his arm. Even though he was hurting, he was thankful.  What a lesson for me.  When life gets me down, gratitude is probably not the attitude I most often display but it is the right one.

As for the secret, I don't know what it is but I have been aware that he has been praying for something daily since the beginning of this school year. Another lesson for me. Persistence. Although it has been more than three months since school started, (I realize that in grown-up terms that's not long but in kid time it can seem an eternity) he is still praying.  I have also learned this year that as far as secret keeping in our family goes, Wesley is the only one who got that tiny nugget of DNA.

I am amazed at the faith that this short note shows too. My little boy has denounced the notions of the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and I believe he even doubts Santa Claus and not because of anything I've said.  I wanted him to believe for a while longer, he is my baby and the last one for whom we will have the opportunity to play those parts.  I am thankful that he realizes the reality of God even though unseen.

Praying that I might express my own faith with the childlike attitude of my sweet son.

Miss Me Yet?

I am a political news junkie, in fact, that is probably why I've been MIA from the blogosphere these past few weeks. There was always something interesting to read that linked to something else interesting to read, that linked to something else, etc...  I am hopeful that my addiction is under control since the elections are now over.

My interest in politics goes way back.  My dad ran for sheriff twice when I was a child.   I remember going door to door along with my younger sister asking people to vote for my daddy. We would be dropped off in subdivisions and knock-knock on every door.  It was a lot like trick-or-treating without the possibility of treats. A favorite memory from those days is how our dad taught us to shake hands properly ( a useful lesson and I've been told I have a great handshake). My sister and I attended various rallies. The excitement and enthusiasm was contagious, and so the addiction began.

Daddy's mother, also known as Maw-Maw, was a poll worker in our district and would bring all the unused ballots to her house after elections.  My cousin, my sister, and I spent most Friday nights with her. We proceeded to hold our own elections each weekend until the ballots were all used up.  We would take turns pretending to be the candidates whose names happened to be on that year's form and tally up the votes. We would each vote more than once, it's amazing  none of us turned out to be community organizer/activists.

As a young woman there was a time when I thought myself to be more liberal feminist than conservative evangelical.  I remember arguing with my dad once and calling him a male chauvinist as I sang Hilary Clinton's praises. He didn't like that very well and apparently the charge offended him more than I had hoped at the time. When John McCain announced that his running mate would be Sarah Palin, Daddy called immediately to let me know he was quite pleased with that choice. Daddy was very clear -a male chauvinist, he is not.

This past Tuesday as I cast my ballot, I had the pleasure of being with my 18 year old son as he voted in his very first election and I just wouldn't be Tracey if there were no tears so, of course, I cried. Don't you wonder what all the folks there must have thought as I stood back crying and watching him  as he made his choices?

Here's a little FYI for ya - although my views are considerably conservative, I read blogs and articles from known liberal sites and publications. I turn on "The View" occasionally but Whoopi and Joy really get on my nerves even when the show isn't politically charged. Even though I am Christian southern  woman who lives in the boonies,  watches Fox News Channel, reads Drudge and listens to talk radio my decisions are informed and my own.