Leigh Kramer

#30: Go to Arrington Vineyards

It seemed appropriate to celebrate my first year in Nashville by also crossing off another item from my 32 Things.

I'd heard much about Arrington Vineyards.   It's hard to pass up on opportunity to spend time on beautiful land, complimented by a free wine tasting.  It was rather last minute but luckily I have spontaneous friends!
 

There was a bit of a wait before we could have our tasting so we bought a bottle of red and headed out to sit by the picnic tables.  We'd just about settled when it began to rain.  And then pour.

We huddled under an awning, befriending people around us and continuing to sip our wine until the storm cleared. One man may have detected that he was surrounded by Midwestern gals, plus Elizabeth, our token Southerner.  I can't win with my accent these days!  I sound "too Chicago" for the South but whenever I go home, everyone makes fun of my newfound drawl.  I'm a MidSouthern hybrid.

 

Finally our tasting began. Arrington offers about a 1 oz. sample of 4 wines. The steward was cute and generous, offering an extra wine to sample.  I loved the wines I tried but it's the smallest tasting I've ever had.  But free is free and I shall not complain!

 Something about holding a wine glass makes me feel more cultured and intelligent. Or at least look the part.

After the tasting, Elizabeth, Tracy, and I headed over to Shannon's family farm for an amazing dinner spread.  I love spending time on farms, mostly because if reminds me of my grandparents' farm. Open land, crops, various animals. I'm very much a suburban girl but the country speaks to me of comfort and refreshment.

 Tracy, resident best friend and woman extraordinaire

Shannon and Elizabeth: my "favorite" coworkers

I ate to my heart's content, as we laughed and talked the night away.

It was relaxing to spend time at the vineyard. But the best part of this day? Looking at my friends and realizing how blessed I am. While I've known Tracy half my life and knew Casi from back home, the rest of these friendships have grown over the past year. These ladies are keepers.

Do you prefer red or white? Do you have a vineyard or winery near you?

I was a Senior Hottie (Class of 1998)

My friend Liz at A Belle, a Bean, and a Chicago Dog is hosting an "I Was a Senior Hottie" link up from May 25-30. I can't pass up the opportunity to post potentially embarrassing pictures of myself and my friends. Of course, I'm joining in, albeit a day early.

You can too!  Just post a picture from homecoming, prom, graduation, or whatever part of senior year you feel like sharing.

My style changed throughout high school.  Freshman year was my grunge phase, thanks to Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Then I morphed back into hippie by sophomore year. The rest of high school was a blend of hippie, preppy, and T-shirts and jeans.

It was hard to select the best pictures so I'm giving y'all a sampling today.  Here I am, in all my Class of 1998 glory.  Interesting fact: I am 17 or 18 in all of these pictures and do not look it. I am 31 now and still don't look my age!

 I look so wise and mysterious in my senior portrait. The photographer never told me to smile! He just took the serious yearbook pictures and then we were done. I remember Tracy and I went with our moms for make-up tips at the Clinique counter a few days before. I was never a big make-up person in high school, though I wanted to wear it so badly in junior high!

 

 I loved Big Sweaters! They made me feel even smaller than I already was.  I'm still a sweater fan but I try not to keep them as voluminous.

 

 Hanging with my friends. I believe this is the night we first watched Dawson's Creek. I am so Team Pacey!  Here we have a nice representation of 1990s style: overalls, big sweaters, oversized T-shirts.

 

Posing with my first car, a 1987 Chevy I bought for $500. It was a good A to B car. Note my jean shorts and casual blue sleeveless shirt, complimented by my sandals. I was all about casual this day.

 

I LOVED my prom dress! Senior prom was the second high school dance I went to and this dress made it seem magical.  I loved the sequins on the top, the flowing material on the bottom. I finally donated it to Cinderella's Closet last year. Parting was such sweet sorrow.

 

Prom pictures with my best friends. Everyone wore long, formal dresses to prom. Unless you were a skank but I really don't remember anyone in a short dress.  Annie's (in the white) dress was actually a wedding dress, making her the biggest spender of all of us.

 

Graduation day with Annie.  We were all about the gold and blue.  Go Falcons!

What was your high school fashion like?

One Year in Nashville

Today marks the day. The anniversary of my Tennessean life. 

Celebrating at Arrington Vineyard

I read words written just a few days after moving and then 6 months in. So much has changed in so many ways this past year.

I think about why I chose to move here and the reasons I've given people when they ask why. It was time for a change. I was tired of Illinois winters.

This, all this, is change. Though I can't tell you the specifics right now, more change is coming. Just as my move to Tennessee was a litmus test, this will be too.

Everything that happened in the final days before my move was affirmation that Nashville was where I was supposed to be.  While nothing turned out the way I thought it would, I still know that Nashville is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

What can I say about the weather here? I traded cold harsh winters for milder, very little snow ones. We may have more tornado warnings here but it's a fair trade.

Best of all, the friendships.  Living in the same town as my best friend once again.  The excitement in her daughter's voice when she sees me, shrieking "Leigh, Leigh!" which sounds more like "Whee! Whee!"  Leigh=Fun. I like it.

Connecting with fellow Midwestern transplants and Southern mainstays. Finding my second home in Alabama. Growing my blog and finding new writing opportunities. 

I have had to confront my weaknesses and leftover demons. My character has grown as I have forced myself to be vulnerable.  I've had to face hard truths about my identity and work's role in my life, as I find myself becoming more of an introvert the longer I stay in social work.

I miss living by my family. I've hated missing out on annual gatherings, whether the 4th of July parade or the Pitchfork Music Festival. I don't like that I'm not getting to watch my dear friends' children grow up, that I settle for seeing them whenever I happen to be in town. I miss Caribou, Honey, and even Muldoons.

I've been able to go to amazing shows and discover new artists that I love. I've found new restaurants to haunt and coffee shops to frequent. I've tried to get used to buying wine from a liquor store instead of picking up a bottle when I get groceries. I've only been lost a few times and I still don't understand the highway system.

But I know that Nashville is my home.

I don't know what will come next or how God will move.  I know this though. It's sure to be a wild ride!

#31: Sweet Second Home Alabama

A couple of weekends ago when I met the one and only Mary Kathryn, I was able to cross off something else from my 32 Things list: Visit One Other Southern State.

When I was still an Illinoisan, I often went to Wisconsin or Indiana (well, really I'd drive through Indiana to get to the Warren Dunes in Michigan) for day or weekend trips.  Easy, quick drives and a good way to get a change of scenery.  I decided when I made my list that I needed to familiarize myself with the South.  My past experience includes two trips to Florida, my 30th birthday in Asheville, and an interesting road trip to New Orleans so my friends and I could see Incubus perform.  So really, I know nothing about the other Southern states.

I needed to find my Southern version of Wisconsin.

Kim and I first connected over books.  She asked if we might read something together, a sort of virtual Book Club.  We decided to read Blood Done Sign My Name, which MK happened to be finishing around the same time.  Through email discussion, Kim mentioned the Civil Rights Museum that resides in Birmingham. Then she mentioned that Mary Kathryn would be visiting one weekend in May to help with a youth retreat. 

That is when I shamelessly invited myself to be a part of the weekend so we could go to the Civil Rights Museum together.

As the weekend drew closer, I started to feel as though I should help out with the retreat, even though I didn't know anything about it.  I emailed Kim and said I could drive down Saturday and be her pack mule.  Then she emailed that she had hoped Mary Kathryn and I would facilitate some sort of painting activity Saturday morning.  I can't pass up an opportunity involving paint!  I decided to drive down Friday night instead.

I wasn't nervous about meeting my blog friends.  I knew that I would like them in real life, just as I liked their bloggy beings.  I was more nervous that they wouldn't like me.  (Just when I think I've mastered an area of insecurity...)

I needn't have worried.  The three of us connected right from the start.

I arrived just in time for worship and communion.  Tired and loopy, I sat in the dark illuminated by votives and observed these kids flat out worshiping their Savior.  I don't remember having that depth when I was their age. Feeling depleted as I was by the past few weeks, I wasn't sure whether I had that depth now or if I could be of use to anyone.

The teens were encouraged to talk to a leader during worship and as I was a pseudo-leader, one girl approached me for a word of encouragement.  When she first started talking, my mind was blank.  I'm trained to counsel but I felt so unqualified in that moment of spiritual import. What did I have to offer her?  Yet as we talked, God provided the words and she did seem to walk away encouraged.

These moments occurred throughout the weekend.

Whether I was facilitating the painting of two large canvases, eating a meal, or sitting on a couch, connections continued. Maybe I was there to lead and help, but I felt I learned more than I taught.

I learned that I still love to counsel and listen and that I probably love it best when I'm not being paid to do so.

I learned more about my identity, not in what I do but who God created me to be. 

I learned that I need to let my past church issues stay in the past.  They no longer define me and I might miss out on the good that God is doing by letting innocuous things trigger old memories.

I learned that Mary Kathryn and Kim are beautiful, wonderful women who God undoubtedly placed in my life. Words fail me to express my gratitude for their friendship and encouragement.  We have so much more of our stories to share.  We never did make it to the Civil Rights Museum so you know what that means!

I learned that "y'all come" is an open invitation, which I have now earned to Kim's home and family.  I valued getting to know her husband and children and only wish I'd had more time to chat with them.

I learned that Alabama is my new Wisconsin and I'm already plotting how I can get back for another trip.

How many Southern states have you visited?  Which one is your favorite?

Two Roads Diverged

 

I've come home for a few days, to regroup and to meet my newest niece-in-love. I couldn't help but reflect as I drove into town, how familiar my hometown is.  Familiar roads, familiar faces.  Even the chilly spring weather is familiar.

I don't need directions when I'm here.  I haven't used these shortcuts in a year but I know them as if I'd used them yesterday.  It was soothing and effortless to remember 294N connects with 88W and then I could shoot up 355N to connect with Roosevelt.  Nashville's highways don't make any sense to me and I'm easily turned around.  But here in Illinois I am master of this domain.

I cut through my parent's neighborhood, the one that gets everyone lost and calling frantically, "I've missed the house!"  It feels nice to drive around and through, veering here and there.

And I remember why I left.  Why it seemed important to free-fall for awhile and to re-learn dependence.  I approach one year in Nashville and I confidently say this was one of the best decisions I've ever made.  Even though I don't know the shortcuts or always remember that Blakemore turns into Wedgewood.  Even though I'm still making sense of this scene and developing friendships and figuring out what I want from this life.

All has not turned out the way I imagined it would.  In fact, nothing has turned out the way I imagined it would and I'm OK with that.

Metaphor drips around me this trip home.  Maybe it's inherent in any hometown reunion.  Maybe it's because I recognize the similarities between then and now and decisions to be made.

I say all this because I'm about to take another leap of faith.  It scares me yet, yet thrills me.  Nothing is certain, yet I know I can't stand still.

I'm ready.

How do you feel when you go home?  Are there any changes you need to make in your life?  Do you have a favorite back road short cut?