Monday, July 25, 2016

Day 25: Ain't Nothing Wrong with the Radio

It's hard to believe this is the final week of #31days of joy.

I'll have to admit it was a little scary going in, being out of the habit of writing every day.  There have been challenges and some last minute-I-almost-forgot posts, but I'm pretty proud of the progress this month.

Even a joy-seeking gal like myself needs a kick in the pants to remember to search it out daily.  And maybe most of all, to share!

Today has been a Monday in Kentucky in July.  I've sweltered some in 112 degree heat and been rained on more times than I count.  My company car is so confused it doesn't know whether to wipe, blow cold air or defrost.  But it gets me where I'm going and despite how worn it may appear, the radio works just fine.

In between visits, I spend a lot of time at the windshield, which most days I truly love.  This is a beautiful county and there's nothing better than watching the seasons unfold across the landscapes here.  Along with the views, I almost always have the radio going.

I have been a lover of music from the womb.  Mom jokes my eclectic taste must've come from taking a music appreciation class when she was pregnant.  In the job I'm in now, I do know there is research to prove that music a baby hears prenatally is recognized once born.  Music is powerful no matter what age you are and has the ability to move you emotionally, stir up memories and carry us places.

I'm sure nobody is standing in line to get me to sign a contract but I truly do love to sing.  When I'm in the pew on Sunday or in my car, really anywhere music plays for very long, I'll find myself singing along.  Sometimes without even realizing it. My love of music also means I know the words to many genres.  (Still on my bucket list to play on a music game show!)

And while I am a channel-surfing gal, hopping from anything from classic country, to contemporary worship, to neck-thrashing hair bands, if I'm in the car around noon, there is only one station I'm listening to. But it isn't for the music.

We have had a local radio station for as long as I can remember and, through the years, it has varied in style and location.  For the past several, it has been housed in the same office as our county paper.  Weekdays from noon to one is "Lunch at the Z," our hometown call-in show.

You literally never know what the topic of the day will be, there are always fun contests and giveaways, and the personalities are so colorful, even the most creative writer couldn't imagine these characters.

*You can catch our "local show"
no matter where you are 12 CST by clicking the link above.
Sometimes I'll take my lunch break in the car, eating a turkey sandwich on the side of the road, just to take in the show.  Often, I can only catch bits and pieces.  Today I tuned in during their "Match Game" contest and even got through to put my guess in for the prize.  Over the years, we've won free meals, books, concert tickets and more.  But what I really enjoy is hearing the conversations and the familiar voices who call in each week.

I have no clue what half of the callers look like, yet if I heard them talking in the next aisle at Wal-Mart, I'd be able to tell you their first name.  Some call in to discuss politics or religion, some the weather, many for hometown gossip or news, some are always grumpy and some ever cheerful.  Local personalities, representing all the nooks and crannies of our small space in this world.  Regardless who calls in, you're guaranteed to have an interesting hour of listening.

It reminds me of life back in the day, when all folks tuned into radio, as it was one of the first forms of technological entertainment.  I've heard recordings of some of those old time radio shows and can envision what it might have been like to sit cross-legged on the floor, ears bent, imaginations flowing as you pictured the story in your mind.

And perhaps I could find a show like that now, if I turned my dial around enough.  But I think I'll settle on 99.9 each day, for a little Lunch at Z with Jerry and the crew.


Sunday, July 24, 2016

Day 24: What I Love about Sundays

Sundays are my kind of day.

Mornings lingering over coffee with hubby, spent together in our Bibles and devotion.  It is the one day of the week we don't have to rush out the door, provided we get up early enough.

Today's was especially sweet, as what started off as a random selection of reading turned into a whisper from God. And those messages from above continued once at church.  At times it felt like I was at a tennis match turning my head and smiling at Tim, because our pastor said something that connected to our reading, or to my mom on the right from our event/talk yesterday.

The morning ended on the highest of notes, watching three of my nieces and nephew get baptized.  I got teary during the service, thanking God for answering prayers with each dunk.  For Bryanna especially, I've witnessed her blossom from baby into the beautiful girl she is and how she has grown in her walk.  My prayer is that they continue to stay on the path God has for them and our family lineage grows in faith by generations.



Having an important lunch to get to, we didn't have time to hug their necks and tell them how proud we are but I know their momma shared the message.  We needed to dart on the other side of town for our older nephew's dinner, saying farewell as he heads back to service halfway across the states.

A morning spent with my family, an afternoon spent with Tim's.  

It was good to see all the Blair boys in one room, surrounded in food, pranks and laughter.  You have to guard your plate and your backseat with this crew.  One might lose a sandwich or get ice down their pants, if you're not alert.  

We had the dinner at our hometown fire department, where Tim began his own service over 30 years ago.  I smiled watching his walk down memory lane, sharing stories with his nephew of long ago.



Returning home, belly and hearts full, I snuggled into a nap with my sweetie.  Probably the hardest part of him working third shift is how much I miss sleeping beside him.  I never feel safer or more content than in his arms.

He stayed to finish a longer stretch of sleep, in preparation for work, and I got up to spend time with Noah.  Our last weekend before he is an official on-his-own driver, I soaked up the moments, as we went on a final practice run.  We arrived back home to have dinner with Tim and relax with one our favorite family shows.

Faith. Family. Fun.
It's what I love about Sundays.

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