The last Thanksgiving my grandmother was alive was in 2017. She seemed so good. We did not realize that less than a month later she would leave us. Don’t get me wrong- we knew she was sick but had hope- she had always been a fighter but Lord knows even fighters get tired.  Will and I decided to start trying. I told her that we were trying that Thanksgiving-selfishly thinking that I could get pregnant quickly and she’d live long enough to meet our 2nd child. I was the one that was going to name a child after her grandmother-Adeline. It was something she and I had always discussed. And also-spoiler alert- it was the ending of the book I have always wanted to write. At the end, the character reveals she is expecting to her grandmother and that the child’s name was going to be named, you guessed it- Adeline.  Well, as we all know, life does not always go as we had planned. My grandmother passed in December of 2017, and as the year passed, no baby. We experienced a few chemical pregnancies- positive tests and then they seemed to vanish. I could hear the clock ticking- it was approaching a year since we had started trying. I was trying to control God’s timing and had to finally turn it over to him.

Finally, in January of 2018, we received another positive test. This time, it was meant to be, and I am so very thankful today- Anderson is one month old. I know that he was a gift above and specifically, from one special  lady.

It’s amazing to think of who all lived in order for us to be on this Earth. Adeline is one of the reasons my two boys are here, as well as, her husband Anderson.

 

Warning: reading this post may cause you to miss days without social media and cell phones. Side effects of reading this may cause nostalgia and a desire to listen to 90’s music. Recommend going ahead and putting the tunes on, dancing around your kitchen, and telling your kids how much your childhood was better theirs.

I was at the Country Club pool the other day with my son. I noticed a group of middle school girls that had gathered. They had come to hang out with friends but I noticed that they were on their phones most of the time and didn’t even get in the pool while I was there (they could have later). Afterwards, I read a post from ScaryMommy about summertime in the 90’s. It really hit home for me.

I did not grow up going to the Country Club pool- just went occasionally with friends who were members. I, however, was a member of the DA pool.  A lot of my friends actually went to the DA pool. It was there in the summers I was probably 11 to 14 that I had some of the best memories of adolescence. I remember begging my parents to take me any chance I could get. Mom worked in the summer so a lot of time I caught rides to the pool.  The pool was the social scene, no wifi password required.

The pool itself originally had two diving boards but when I started going, there was only one. I never really knew what had happened to the high dive. DA stood for Demopolis Academy, the name of the private school in town. I attended the public school and never understood why the academy had a pool. It didn’t really matter which school you went to as long as your parents paid the dues.

One of my favorite things to do was to play handball, a form baseball but in the pool. We’d gather to one corner of the shallow end and pitch a tennis ball to a batter. They’d hit the ball with their hand and swim to designated areas of the pool deemed “bases”. And speaking of baseball and softball, if you actually played the sport, coaches were always telling us to not go swimming if we had practice or a ballgame that day. That rule was broken so many times. We also would have chicken fights which thankfully still exists as some kids were playing when I was at the pool mentioned previously.

The DA pool was also a great place to check out the older guys. There were a few that I had small crushes on and the DA pool allowed an opportunity to be around them even though I would have never been brave enough to make a move or even suggest to them my interest. I am sure as with many kids around the age of 13 that were coming to the pool that summer, hormones raged on much like the alternative music we listened to. Girls began to ditch one piece bathing suits in favor of two pieces and boys were getting hair under their arms.

Not all of my friends were members but if there were certain lifeguards on duty, you could basically bring them to the pool and they’d look the other way when it came to a guest “fee”. I had one friend that moved to Demopolis from Arizona and with his spikey hair he could pass as an out of towner. Demopolis did not know much about skateboarders then or spikey hair for that matter. Lifeguards seemed so much older then but really they were only probably 3 to 5 years older than me at the time.

I cannot remember exactly which friend or time at the pool but I do recall one of my guy friends putting on someone’s bathing suit or something that was way too tight and jumping in the pool. It was sight on the diving board, complete with goggles and all.

Of course, we tried to layout and tan with lemon juice in our hair, but it was way more fun to be in the pool where the action was. As I got older, I ended up working the summer to pay for my 94′ Corolla and saved enough to go to Hooper’s in Meridian to put a CD player in.  We ended up canceling our pool membership. The Parr’s parking lot replaced the pool as the social scene.

The DA pool has since been covered up and is someone’s back yard now. It’s still strange to ride by there, knowing what it was once was.

So, this post is for you- those that were members of the DA pool or lifeguards. Maybe we snuck you in to go swimming and this post is still for you. I am thankful for my childhood and the absence of cell phones and social media, where we actually had conversations face to face and did not have to send an emoji to explain our feelings. Now, it’s time for me to get my son off his I-pad and let’s actually go make some REAL memories!

 

 

As I waited in the lobby of the airport, and the time inched closer to 12 A.M. San Francisco time, I started wishing Glenda from the Wizard of Oz would appear. Since she would be in San Francisco, I am sure she would have a little bit of a different appearance and accent.  Her voice may even be a little deeper. Maybe she would ride in on a surf board and say, “Hey man, you’ve always had the power to go home- just click your Steve Maddens together and say, “There’s no place like home.”  She’d leave me with a “Far Out” and I’d magically appear in Demopolis. Glenda didn’t appear but we finally boarded the plane on our way back East.

I’ve always enjoyed traveling, and have been blessed to visit some neat places. San Francisco was beautiful. By far, my favorite experience was walking across the Golden Gate bridge. Cars zoomed by mocking the speed limit of “45”, a mere suggestion. It was also sobering crossing the bridge- phones were available for emergencies and suicide hotline numbers were posted- a reminder of what others come to do when they visit the Golden Gate bridge.

After walking across the Golden Gate bridge, we took a ferry back into San Francisco. It was my first ferry ride. I kept thinking about that old song-“Life goes on day after day; hearts torn in every way. So ferry’ cross the Mersey; Cause this land’s the place I love and here I’ll stay.”

Later in the day, we made it to Pier 39 for lunch. Before grabbing a bite,  we got to see where the seals hang out and sun. They lie on each other as they sun bathe. Every once and in awhile one of the seals will start fussing and others will join in. I found it ironic. There were plenty of other places for them to sun bathe but they chose to lay around and on each other-and seemed to complain about it but did not appear to want to leave their spot. Maybe they were all family and were having a normal family dispute but loved each other so much they didn’t want to leave- we all are like that sometimes with the ones we love.

For those that knew me when I was 12, remember my hippie faze. No, I was not into what you may be thinking; I’ve never even smoked a cigarette. I did have a fascination with bell bottoms, incense, and tie die. I had beads on my closet door and a flower poster from Spencer’s. I also had a green lava lamp.  I even had a bottle with melted wax. I liked to dress from the time period. So, while visiting San Fran, I had to visit Haight and Ashbury. It was neat seeing where Janis Joplin once lived, as well as, the Grateful Dead. It’s not the “scene” it once was. There were still a few on the street that looked the part but appeared to be living on the streets. I was there in the morning so I did not have a chance to browse a shop that I just knew I’d find some clothing from the 60’s- most stores did not open until 11 am which made perfect sense. This was a crowd that would still be asleep.

The sights and foods were great. I am so thankful for the experience. I may go back one day. Who knows?

When we finally reached Houston after our first flight, I was starving. We had been up for 24 hours. I don’t sleep too well on planes. As we got to our next gate area, a Chick Fil A appeared from heaven, and we were able to enjoy breakfast. Our flight to Birmingham was small and only lasted over an hour. I was relieved and ready to be back home.  After we reached Birmingham, and our car at Budget- the lady behind the counter smiled warmly and said “Ya’ll be careful.” The word “ya’ll” was music to my ears.

I was so happy to be home. I had missed my child, my family, and Demopolis. Today, I’ve been gladly doing laundry and watching Chuck Chicken with William Michael. Travel is great- it opens you to new experiences and people. You learn more about the human race but more than anything, it reminds you of what a blessing your life is. Although we live in a small town, we have so much more than a lot of people I’ve seen over the past few days. The 60’s in San Francisco was a time of “peace, love, and happiness”-something that I don’t have to travel to find- Dorothy was right- everything you need is in your own back yard.

 

 

In small towns, Friday nights are special in the fall with the start of football season. As a child, I went to every single game-home and away since my older sister was a cheerleader. I myself was never a cheerleader- dancing and rhythm was not my strong suite, and I was determined to set my own path. These days I feel it takes forever before it’s actually “football” weather. I miss the old stadium. I could stand in my back yard and hear the River City Blue and the announcers. We could walk to the game if we wanted to. Football reminds me, too, that good friends sometimes have to move away.

Homecoming always has a special place in my heart. I can remember running across the street to the Middle School to the Homecoming dances. I loved wearing my mum with the giant Homecoming ribbon. I loved being in the parade. I loved working on homecoming floats.

When we entered high school, primping before home games was essential. The music you listened to was just as important. Cowboy Take Me Away was a favorite of my friends.  In high school, you had goals to achieve at the game, i.e. catching the eye of your favorite guy-where he be on the sideline, in the band, or in the stands. Socializing was a must at the game. After the game, if you were in the Key Club that meant you needed to stay to clean up the parking lot. We acted like we dreaded it, but it was another chance to socialize. Depending on the game, the next day after the game, as a member of Key Club, you were required to clean the stadium!  After the game also meant 5th Quarter at the Baptist Church.

Our hearts were broken the Fall of 02′ with a defeat from UMS Wright. I’d like to think we started the tailgate tradition at DHS since we tailgated before that game. I always think of our team when I hear, We ready (what, what), We ready (what, what), We ready (we ready, we ready) for ya’ll. Redemption was ours the next Fall when we won the state championship but unfortunately for us 03′ seniors we had already moved on to college, work, etc.  There’s some country song that says “Everybody dies famous in a small town” and that’s exactly how high school football is.

Tonight, I’ll go to the stadium and watch the Demopolis Tigers. It won’t be in the same stadium (sigh) but it will still remind me of a time when all that mattered was hanging with friends, flirting with boys, and cheering on your friends. I may even have to listen to Cowboy Take Me Away- here’s to you Beth and MC!

 

Mom and me at Suttles Truck Leasing, Inc.

  These days you hear a lot of how kids today do not have “soft skills” needed for the workplace. I started working at the age of 14 working occasionally for Omni Sports then on to the Sports Plex where I flipped a few burgers and cleaned bathrooms. One time someone left their cup (protective kind not the drinking kind) in the bathroom. I was so grossed out that I had to get a broom to sweep it in the trash. Talk about soft skills, lol! Scrubbing a few toilets does a teenager good even if he or she doesn’t realize it at the time. However, the place I really learned “soft skills” that would benefit me later in life was at Suttles Truck Leasing.

I started working there around the age of 15 or 16. I first started in my mom’s office-the billing department. I made copies, answered the phone, faxed documents, and filed. An when I say I filed, I filed, and I filed. I even filed for Mr. Ed who worked above the shop. It was hot and the papers were so thin you’d think they were see through. It felt like an eternity filing work orders for truck parts.  I then worked in the Fuel Tax department entering mileage. I had my own phone and desk. I had made it! Not too bad for a 17 year old working part time.  I worked during Spring Break and in the Summer, 40 hours a week, when most of my friends were enjoying sleeping in and lounging at the pool. I wanted to be at home too but knew if I wanted a car, I had to work so I did. I also worked as the receptionist. I came in 15 minutes early each day to make sure Mr. Suttles’ office was in order. I took the mail and sorted it. I paged Harold in the shop when he had a phone call which seemed like every day of my life.

They always helped me too-celebrating my high school graduation and acceptance to UA. The guys in the shop even pulled my car out of the ditch when I pulled to far in the parking lot.  I’m ashamed to say it happened twice but I did bake them cookies. The ladies in the office were like my mom-they were very supportive and cheered me on. I learned how to swing a golf club because of Becky. We’d go after work across the street to the driving range at the Ravine.

It wasn’t until as an adult I realized what all I had learned. I had learned “soft skills”-showing up for work on time (15 minutes early), working when I didn’t feel like it, working with different types of people, etc.  Maybe the best way to learn “soft skills” are from people who really love you and want what’s best for you.  It’s funny how it’s called “soft skills”- the skills you are learning aren’t really all that “soft” at the beginning. They are hard because you are stretching yourself in ways you didn’t know you had in you.  They are necessary. If I had any advice to give “kids these days” is to get a job-even if it’s part time. Go to work when your friends are having fun. Do things that aren’t fun now because later in life they will benefit you- it just may take until your almost 33 to realize it.  Find a first job where the people want you to succeed.

I cannot say enough about the people that I worked with at Suttles. They all in a sense helped raise me and made me the employee I am today (although be it, I’m not perfect). Mr. Suttles was one of the most generous people I knew and was always buying lunch for his employees.  Suttles was a lot like Cheers- everybody knew your name and they were always glad to see you. I miss those people-some are still in town which I am always glad to see, and others have passed on.  I never had a chance to truly say thank you to the people at Suttles or even Mr. Suttles so in a since this is my way.

Thank you!

 

 I don’t mean to sound sexist as I write this but some of the strongest people I’ve ever known have been women. My grandmother, Winona Rinehart, had to bury a husband and son the same year-in 1990. My grandmother, Faye Hall, worked all of her life (from a kid to an adult) for her family. She made sacrifices so that her kids would have a better life. There’s also my great aunts,  my grandmother Faye’s sisters, who made similar sacrifices- who seemed to always have a sense of humor-especially Aunt Nell. Aunt Nell was one of the best shooters in all of Chilton County but she also knew how to have fun- dancing and singing to old Johnny Cash songs. They handled life with grace. There’s also Chef Melissa, from my days at NorthRiver Yacht Club. She was the Executive Chef.  She was tough and ran a tight ship but knew how to put out some of the best food I’ve ever eaten, not to mention the displays-Southern Living worthy. She worked hard to provide for her daughter and grand baby-even when she was diagnosed with cancer. God I miss these women.

My mom is another-she worked so my dad to go back to college to become a teacher. She constantly puts her family first. With my dad’s eyes, she is the driver in the house. She makes sure he gets to where he needs to go and then some. There’s also my sister-she’s raising 4 kids, works, and still finds time to be the most creative person I know. She’s one of the most selfless people I know.

I know that I am leaving some ladies out. I apologize. I am sure though that you can think of the women that have shaped your existence.  So, on this Mother’s Day weekend, I want to say thank you to the women who’ve made me who I am today. Mother’s Day is for every woman who has impacted someone-where that person be their child or not.

 

  There’s a special someone in my life who is celebrating their birthday today. She is one of the biggest Alabama fans I know but yet remains at peace with Auburn fans (this can be very hard to do; I should know since I married an Auburn fan, lol). By my birth, I made her an Aunt yet again but I am the lucky one. You see Donna Sue is more than an Aunt, she is like another grandmother to us. When William Michael was born, she spent the night with us  once a month when I had to work late and Will was in school. She’s one of the most selfless people I know-next to Jesus and my mom.  And her laugh- it’s contagious and puts a smile on your face instantly.

She’s our family historian. I could spend countless hours listening to her stories of members I knew and those I did not. There’s pride in her voice as talks about those that have gone on before us. Although, she did not have any children of her own, her nieces, nephews, great nieces, and great nephews became her children. Her happy place is the beach, and I can remember many of a beach trip with her. She’s also the family photographer capturing the many details of our lives that we may have soon forgotten if not for the photographs she takes. Although she has spent a lot of time behind the camera lens, she has always been very much part of our lives and we are forever grateful.

Anyone lucky to have met her and become her friend know just how special she is. So on this very special day, I want to say Happy Birthday and that we love you so very much! I look forward to another night of family stories sitting at my kitchen table with the room filled with your laughter.

Inside every 30 something year old female is a 90’s  and early 2000’s rapper. We grew up riding the main drag (for me-Highway 80) or back roads in our 1990 something year old car listening to words that would make your grandmother blush. And yes we knew all the words from listening to our favorite rap song on repeat, and we still know every word. I think now it is as much as an act of rebellion as it was then. Aw, look at this sweet, innocent 16 year old girl; wait she knows the lyrics to Get Your Roll On by the Big Tymers? Aw, look at this wife with her cute kids, but wait she knows all the words to Magic Stick?

My inner rapper does not always come out but every once in a while, I hear a certain song like No Diggity, and I am transported in time to my Toyota Corolla with the CD player I scrimped and saved for and had installed. My vehicle now doesn’t even have a CD player but it does have XM so I can find some of all my old jams from time to time.  Of course, I reserve this for when I’m alone in my car. It’s great for “me” time.

Ladies, just admit it, you know all the words to your favorite rap song. These songs make me not only reminisce but make me feel powerful that I have not completely changed since becoming a wife and mother-that somewhere deep inside there’s still a girl that can conquer the entire world.

Although you may not find me In Da Club anymore, you can still catch me riding in car occasionally thinking that I’m Still Fly.

 

 

 

 

I’ve always had a plan for everything that happened in my life. When I met Will (10 years ago on April 7), I knew I was going to marry him that night. I have an album on Facebook titled “1/4 of the Plan” from back then dedicated to my plans with Will (don’t worry, I didn’t make this until AFTER we started dating). Good thing that didn’t scare him off, lol! The fall of my senior year in high school, I had been accepted to the University of Alabama; I had always known I would attend. When I was in DECA in high school I competed in Travel and Tourism, and I knew I would get a degree in Hospitality Management. Okay, so you kind of get the idea, I’m an extreme A-type personality that likes everything to go according to-you guessed it-plan.

However, I find myself in my 30’s in unchartered territory. I feel as though up until my 30’s, life was pretty much a dream (I’m very blessed for that fact).  After my grandmother passed in late 2017, I realized just how short life is. I also now see that my parents ARE getting older. My child is going to Kindergarten in the Fall. There is NO plan that can change or stop any of this. So now how does someone with my personality manage these changes that don’t come with a list to scratch off?

I’m learning ever so slowly (think slower than the a snail), to take life as it comes-literally one day at a time. I’m also learning how to say no to things that I don’t feel I can give 100% which allows me to say yes to more things I love, such as, spending more time with WM and Will, traveling, writing, etc.  I’m learning to be the best version of me. By being the best me, I can be a better mom, friend, daughter, sister, co-worker, etc. The younger me had a huge list that had to be scratched off in order to feel successful. The younger me also felt I had to be everything for everyone. I’m glad to see I’m finally shedding a little bit of her now. A part of her is still there but I just have to keep her at arm’s length.

I’m also learning to trust myself more and be confident in my decisions. It’s a struggle since I am a people pleaser (guess that’s why my jobs have been what they are). I’m going to try to live my life more in the moment and less by a list.

No, I AM going to LIVE my life more in the MOMENT and LESS by a list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part of my heart lives in downtown Demopolis. I have always loved downtown Demopolis, from the time I was a kid participating in the Heritage program as an elementary student to more recently when I gave walking tours as part of my previous job as the Chamber Director. There’s something about these old buildings that warms my heart. From the details to the names still on the buildings (think George or McGrath) hinting at the former life of the building.

 Occasionally, I will take my son to the park to see the fish underneath the fountain at the Public Square. If I have a little bit of cash on hand, we stroll over to the Bigbee Humane Society for William Michael to find a toy. Supporting a good cause and making a small child happy equates for a pretty good day. When we cross Walnut Street and walk down Washington Street, I envision what downtown might have looked like when it was booming. Ladies dressed in their very best (in my mind they all look like Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s) with gloves on their hands holding their children’s hands as they visit shop to shop. If it’s anything like going to Wal-Mart on a Sunday, I imagine shopping downtown Demopolis was quite a social event.

The holidays are always magical time, and I am sure downtown Demopolis at Christmas was no different. I can almost picture children peering into stores downtown with their breath fogging up the windows. I am not sure what it is about downtown Demopolis that tugs at my heart but I imagine part of it is the yearning of a simpler time, before cell phones, internet, and social media.

Yet, I know that this was not a simpler time for everyone. My grandmother would always disagree with someone if they referenced “the good old days”.  The good old days were quite harder in terms of living. However, what I believe the “good old days” to be and what downtown Demopolis represents for me is a time in which we spent more time having conversations with each other face to face. Now, as I write this, I can hear my inner voice saying “But you are on social media Ashley.” Yes, I am and have found being on social media can be valuable in doing my job and as a way to share this story, but I guess what I crave is more face to face interaction.

Today, I got to attend a grand opening of a business in downtown Demopolis. It was wonderful. It gave me two things: a new place to visit downtown and face to face human interaction. For an hour, I got to visit with old friends, hug, and have meaningful conversations face to face. Not for a minute did I miss my cell phone or social media.

I guess for me downtown Demopolis for me will always be a place I can forget all my troubles and my cares.