Scarlet B. Goodnow

WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

“It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them, and every new dog who comes in to my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.  If I live long enough all the components of my heart will be dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are.”

-Anonymous

            11 years ago, I walked in to my mom’s friends, The Goodnow’s house to visit the new puppies their dog had just had.  There in the middle of their living room sat the cutest little black nugget I ever saw.  She was wearing a red rickrack ribbon around her neck and she looked up at me with the sweetest eyes…and then she peed.  Shamelessly, right there on the Goodnow’s rug that puppy peed and then she came bouncing towards me and I knew she would be OUR new puppy.  I had no idea then that Scarlet, as she came to be called because of her red neck ribbon, would become one of the greatest dogs, not just that my family has had, but ever. 

            Scarlet always believed herself to be the comfortable size of a football, the perfect size to sit in your lap, climb all over you, and be held like a baby.  She was notorious for her less than comfortable crotch greetings and she always appreciated a little petting lovin’.  To say that Scarlet loved ducks and tennis balls would be the understatement of the year.  She would go BERZERK at the mention of one of her beloved toys and run for hours in our backyard chasing after them.  Then she would come inside and lay right in the middle of wherever you wanted to be snuggle.  She was kind, smart, and funny as hell.  I remember being little and pretending to cry with my face in the pillow.  Scarlet would come sprinting for me and begin incessantly nudging at my face until she realized I was all right.  She had this serious concern for our family that was incredibly impressive.  It has always amazed me that dogs have the ability to make you feel comforted.  They can’t talk; they can’t hug us, yet they radiate love and make us feel protected in some way. 

Scarlet taking it upon herself to comfort me when i had my wisdom teeth removed:

too much love for her duckies:

ducks, and babies, and friends oh my!

            I don’t want to be that girl who says that their dog was more than just a dog, but a member of the family, although my dad was often heard yelling Scarlet’s name instead of mine by mistake.  She will always hold a dear place in each of our hearts.  We loved her every day and she will be missed.

If Scarlet could talk...

Love ya.  Miss ya.  Mean it.

Kane

Birthday Festivities!

WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

-Winnie the Pooh

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

-Maya Angelou

            This weekend I blissfully escaped the world of rush practice, with its coordinated dance routines, smiley faces, and facts, to celebrate my wonderful Dolly’s 70^th birthday.  I flew out of Raleigh late Friday night and arrived in Chattanooga to a happy brother and uncle waiting for me at the gate.  Could a girl ask for more?  I submit that she could not.  Anywho, Saturday was the big day of the party, and oh yeah, did I mention it was a SURPRISE PARTY???? Now while I personally am not a huge surprise enthusiast, I am all about surprising others so this shindig was right up my ally.

            Dolly’s family and close friends joined us at their country club for a yummy yummy meal and a truly classic slideshow.  We saw baby Dolly.  We saw hot Dolly from college.  We saw Dolly with Pop.  We saw Dolly with babies.  We saw Dolly with grandbabies.  We saw Dolly ever beautiful, ever kind, and ever smiling.  Scrumptious cupcakes and the best cake you ever tasted followed the festivities!  Throughout the night we listened to a playlist, designed by my mama and aunts, with classics from various decades.  And if the music is good, you dance.  And so dance we did.  As guests began to filter out, the remaining few of us braved the dance floor to bust a few good moves-the only decent way to send a party out in style.  A testament to this party’s true superb-ness could be found in our very own Craig Hollingsworth’s dancing, a gift saved for VERY and EXTREMELY rare occasions.  As those of us staying with Pop and Dolly made our way home, I looked around at all the faces surrounding me and realized, once again, how very lucky I am to be a member of this family. Every family has their own brand of crazy and I know too well that God was very generous when he was dosing it out to my people, but our crazy is fun, present, and full of fun and the most meaningful memories.  So if that’s crazy, I want no part of normal.

            It’s hard not to be impressed with Pauline Whitsitt, my Dolly as I’ve always called her.  She radiates a beauty this world is lucky to have experienced and leaves in her wake a joy that has a way of settling you.  When we were little Whit and I would spend time at our Pop and Dolly’s house over the summer, just us.  We’d eat popcorn after dinner, watch Jeopardy, go to the movies, and stay up late listening to Papa sing and Dolly read us stories.  Then we’d go to sleep happy and wake up to a new day full of illicit ice cream trips and delayed bedtimes.  I’ve known few things that were more sad than leaving a week of comfort and pure fun at Pop and Dolly’s house.  Not because we didn’t want to go back to our parents (I mean they were alright), but because between the two of them (Pop and Dolly), Whit and I were enveloped with acceptance and endless fits of laughter.  Dolly has always had a way of making me want to stay.  It’s like she refurbishes my heart when I’m with her, dusting it free of whatever problems it’s grappling with and returning it to me enriched.  While she’s a little “bossy with the rules” sometimes, she is truly a gem and a constant source of comfort in my life.  Thank you Dolly and happy birthday to you!

            After a too-short weekend, I packed up my things at 4:30am Sunday morning and after making a short stop at home, in the Charlotte airport, I finally arrived “home” in Chapel Hill and am coping with the idea of facing another week of my Sophomore (what?!?!?!?!?!!) year!  (First week blog soon to come!)

Love ya. Miss ya. Mean it.

Kane

Papa and Mama:

Whit and the birthday girl:

Me and Papa:

Me and Mama:

Dolly and her girls:

Whit and his beloved Holly:

Aunt Ash and Uncle "Loo":

Dolly and her sister, Cynthy:

Me and my aunt Stephanie cheesin:

Mama and the dancing fool:

Boys' Session 2012

WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

“Thank heaven for dirty dishes.  They have a tale to tell, while other folks go hungry, we’re eating very well. With home, and health, and happiness we shouldn’t want to fuss, by this stack of evidence God’s very good to us.”

Well as soon as my sweet campers left me at Marymount, I rolled up my sleeves and headed for the kitchen.  Yes, I am working boys’ session at Camp Marymount on kitchen crew.  What does this mean you might wonder…it means I clean dishes for about an hour, 3 times a day and then I get to hang out with kids, swim in the lake, take naps, and hang out with friends for the remainder of the day.  It’s a hard knock life.  I seriously could not have asked for a better job this summer.  My partners in crime coworkers in the kitchen are the best bunch of girls to work with that a kitchen lady like me could ask for. 

            Working boys’ session is very different than working girls session for a number of different reasons, many of which I was surprised by.  First of all, little boys are a little bit wussy.  When things drop on the floor or spill during girls’ session, our girls pick it up, wipe it off, and move on.  When things drop on the floor or spill during boys’ session, the world is over-tears ensue, angry faces are rendered, and fists are thrust into the air like angry versions of John Bender in The Breakfast Club.  In addition to the campers being different (but GREAT) than our wonderful little girls, the boy counselors run things a bit differently than us girls.  Instead of activities like Gold Rush, Marymount Prom, and dance parties, the boys spend their nights doing WrestleMania, Justice League (an event in which counselors dress up as superheroes and “fight” to the death to determine the best hero.  WHY???), and Battleball, a frightening game in which everyone is split into two teams and a very aggressive game of dodge ball ensues.  Terrifying.

            My days during boys’ session were spent laughing in the kitchen and laying out by the lake. You will be pleased to know that I have mastered almost every dive in the book: swan, tuck, pike, inward, etc.  I have high hopes of trying out for the 2016 summer Olympics dive team.  I can also do a front flip and a dive off the zip line now! Needless to say, my summer was very productive. 

            It is impossible to express how much I learned this summer and how much I loved my time spent here.  I am grateful to my grandparents and my parents for making it possible for me to enjoy such a beautiful place for so many years.  Until next time, “This was goodnight and not goodbye.”

Love ya.  Miss ya. Mean it.

Kane

The summer in photos.  Enjoy...

the girls at the lake:

climbing trees:

time off:

slip-n-slide Marymount style:

Marymount ladies:

i jumped off that "cliff"!!

that's me at the window collecting dishes:

the beautiful Lever Lake:

a young boy seeking shelter behind the basketball goal during a vicious game of Battleball:

Boys' final campfire:

FRIENDS:

The kitchen girls:

what a wonderful summer...