One of these things is not like the other...

My parents met in a training class at IBM in 1968. On their FIRST date, to impress my mom after dinner, my dad took her to the "computer room" at the University of Michigan. It worked. If you know my brother, you will not be surprised to know that I'm starting to seriously wonder if I'm adopted, despite how much my parents deny it.

World of Coca-Cola

I must confess that before heading downtown Atlanta to explore the World of Coca-Cola, I had rather low expectations. I assumed that there'd be several red and white logos on all kinds of things hung on the walls and dancing in the open space. And I was right about that. However, I was pleasantly surprised by how interesting this cultural phenomenon was developed over the decades, how marketing worked so well, how many products they created and the entertaining short videos.

With all the memorabilia gathered in one specific location, I can't help but wonder if in a thousand years all the various Coke products will be memorized by students studying for history exams that cover "gods of the 20th Century."

(These photos were taken with an iPhone. Not too bad.)

Olympic Torches

The Tasting Room

 65 Coca-Cola Products to Taste...including Gingerbread Coke! There was one continent represented by each beverage dispensor. 

I have a cousin named Beverly, so I took this picture. However, sadly, I imagine that jet fuel would taste better than whatever was put into this beverage. Why it is popular in Europe baffles me.

This was parked outside the aquarium in Atlanta. Yes, the Wienermobile.

Perspective

When I'm in Austin or Atlanta and the sunny weather drops into the 40s (sometimes the 50s), I wonder if it's "too cold" to go running outside.

This afternoon, in Chicago, I went for a run outside because it was "warm," cloudy and 27-degree. The snow and ice on the streets had been dissolved by all the salt trucks that had passed by on previous days but still blanked the lawns and some sidewalks. 

   

A New Song...

I started playing the violin the last day of second grade.  I asked my mom if I could take lessons sometime in the fall of that academic year, which was two years before instruments started in our school district, and she said that if I was still interested in June, she would sign me up. I think that she hoped I would forget, being the easily distracted 7-year-old that I was. Well, I didn’t forget. She picked me up from my last day as a second grader and we drove to a local music store where I met the owner and violin teacher. She was patient for the next 11 years, guiding me as I fumbled through etudes and destroyed concertos. 

My violin days faded away in college and were only briefly revisited in the years following. By the time I had graduated, the black case was collecting dust under my bed and would come out about once a year. I’d play a few songs whose notes are still ingrained in my brain today, put it back into case and think to myself, “hmmmm...it’d be fun to play in a symphony again one day.”

I’d also notice how much it hurt the tips of my fingers to play this instrument that used to be so familiar. With orchestra everyday, theoretically practicing every evening and visiting my private teacher once a week, I had unintentionally developed little callouses...and didn’t even know that they were there until it was very apparent that they were not. My fingers had become numb to the metal strings sliding firmly below them, dancing up and down the finger board to create music. I didn’t feel it anymore. 

Growing up in the church, my heart sometimes felt that way about Christmas and Easter. The familiar truths become background noise that was unnoticeable amidst the chaos of holidays, the lists of things to do and all the other shiny distractions. I was tempted to glaze over the passages read about Jesus’ birth and my heart not pierced as his resurrection was preached, until I realized that my focus had shifted and it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. It wasn't new and exciting and different. It may be life-changing information that I took very seriously, but it wasn’t something on which I was consciously focusing, like breathing oxygen, which was an unfortunate situation. 

This December as I mailed only a small handful of Christmas cards to scattered friends and family across the country, I found myself writing words of prayers for friends that I often pray for myself: My God surprise you with His great love and incredibly joy in new and different ways.

As we are welcoming another Christmas season and will then be looking forward to focusing on Jesus’ life and resurrection, may our hearts and minds notice and focus on this story, whether it be the first time we’ve truly heard and understood the significance of this seriously ridiculously loving God and what He did for us. 

        

  

Cards of Chicago

Crafting is one of my hobbies. These are pictures I took for a gift card series during the summer of 2008. I finally got around to making several gift card sets for Christmas presents this year. 

Party Dresses!

Much to the surprise of my 9-year-old self, one of my most favorite things about the first three weeks of December is the wide spread of Christmas celebrations calling for party dresses. The 9-year-old Heather would have done anything she could to avoid a dress of any kind and practically wrestled my mother as she attempted to do my hair. Apparently, things change. This year, there were only parties on the agenda but both lead to cute pictures, thanks to Jen. Here are two of them and two other lovely ladies, Adrianne and Katye, who dressed up for the occasion.

Family Portraits

On a brisk fall afternoon in Austin, my family met up with photographer Krista McCaleb by Town Lake to capture the essence of the Werle Family. These are some of my favorite...but probably not the ones my mother will purchase, frame and have hung in my parents' house for years to come.

Um... guess who's the youngest child?

Black Tie / White Christmas

1500 of your closest friends