NOT my child

... but boy, is he a cute one.

If you're having a blegh day like me, please take a second to watch this little tyke discover the wonders of lobsters.



A WaPo blogger wrote that he wants to make that kid's "Wow!" his ringtone. I second that motion.

This reminds me of the first time I encountered creamy, salty, sweet foie gras. I exuded all manner of "wows!" whoas!" and "nom nom noms."

Except I was 22, and in a nice bistro.

(Incidentally, this time of year reminds me of foie gras... For the past two years, a couple of weeks before Christmas, I have placed a special order with my favorite local market for a sizable mound of the pate goodness. It's a holiday treat for us.)

I really, truly hope that when Brad and I have kids, they are as fascinated by gourmet cuisine as this little boy.

I think we should get back together.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder…

Is it true? After two months of a Wholly Surrendered blog famine, have you missed me?

Don’t worry, I’m still around and kickin’. I’m not sure what to blame the lag on: school assignments, work chaos, or laziness. Anyway. I’ve just been so distracted. But I hope you'll take me back. I've been doing a lot of thinking and, well... there may still be a spark between us.

Whatdya say, give me another chance?

Thanks to those of you who are still following me. Don’t lose hope! I know I have lost at least one follower, but I guarantee I will be back to my blogging self soon.

You know, really… I think I can blame the anti-blogness on not really feeling like myself. I know I’ve blogged before about that, but even though I absolutely am LOVING my schooling, I still don’t feel like I have found my outlet. I’m searching… God is great and He knows me. He understands my complicated heart even when I don’t.

I receive a free Bible email every day, and I have gotten in the nasty habit of “Marking as Read” when I see her in the old Gmail inbox. I have struggled through feeling distant from the Lord, and with the help of some dear friends, I’m getting back on track and reading. Many of us likely know these verses, excerpted from today’s email… What words to live by:

“But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

Philippians 3:7-11

Word.

Thanks for sticking with this complacent blogger! I’ll try to be more consistent about updating. And I realize this wasn’t much of an update. So I’ll bring you fairly up to speed with some photos from recent weeks (since early April).

Celebrating with my priceless friend Caroline at her bachelorette! She’ll marry her love Todd on June 6.

This was formerly Brad’s junk room. After 1.5 years of trying desperately to ignore the mess in that room while keeping the rest of my home clean (the Gaultneys have different definitions of what “tidy” and “clean” mean), I went Medieval on it and cleaned it like the bizness. I’ll wait for the “after” pictures till next month, when I plan to paint it. I'm thinking cool gray, with white and yellow (and fuschia?) punches.

Our kindred, dearest friends, the Gahms – AKA The Wanderlusters. We visited them in Breckenridge as they travel across the globe for one year. (Steph, I owe you pictures. I'll do a FB album soon now that I've found my camera cord and can post!)

Then some more dearest friends got ENGAGED! Here’s a photo of them about a week before Zach popped the question to Abby. We celebrated her birthday Cajun-style with a crawfish dinner.

My older brother Matt got MARRIED! Somehow I was so caught up with emotion that I didn’t take photos of the blessed event, but here’s a snapshot of me and my mama. Isn’t she gorge?



Here’s a picture of me and Brad from a recent trip to New York City. Times Square! Thanks to those who made recommendations on what to do and see, especially Erin!

The Love Editor

The verdict is in: virus, but not flu (my fever isn't high enough for it to be flu); bronchitis; middle ear infection.

But my doctor hooked me up with a prescription for a Z Pak, and as wary as I am of antibiotics, I'm feeling loads better already! So praise God! And thanks truly for all your well wishes. :-)

On to other, non-sickness tidbits...

My brothers are awesome. I love them both as brothers and friends, and my younger brother Brett brings so much fun to our family. He's the trends editor of his college newspaper, and apparently he's moonlighting as a broadcast reporter too. My dad just sent me a video to Brett's first installment as The University Star's "Love Editor -- first name Love, last name Editor." It's fantastic! I'm so proud.

I've excerpted Brett's segment here:



All I can say is, Stephanie Kusy-Wilson and Summer Ratliff better keep their hands off my baby bro's "luscious locks!"

You can watch the full broadcast here, if you're really interested in SG's rejection of an on-campus concealed carry bill:

Update-ish

Since it's been a while since I've caught you up, I'll give a little update.

I'll start with the most immediate... I am sick as a dog. For weeks I've been looking forward to this weekend for so many reasons. Brad's step-brother, Kelly, was married this weekend. In Florida. On the beach. At sunset. On Valentine's Day. Roooooomance! (By the way, his new wife's name is KELLY! They are the "two Kellys.")

Brad was a groomsman, and we booked a room at the resort where the wedding would be. I was just so excited about a relaxing long-weekend on the beach, surrounded by family. It ended up being a LOVELY wedding, and I couldn't be happier for the new husband and wife!


I only wish I had been feeling well enough to spend sometime enjoying the gorgeous scenery! Most of last week, Brad and I were just feeling yuck. What's weird is that we've been eating healthier than ever -- tons of veggies, fruit, wheatgrass, fish, little fat, little sugar -- but our immune systems are just pokey all of a sudden!

During our flight to Florida on Friday I just started feeling super mooky. It just got worse throughout the day and the rehearsal dinner, and sure enough, that night it was BAD. I won't get into details, but I'm pretty sure I have a full-blown flu. Didn't sleep a wink, thanks to sickness, bad heating/cooling unit, neighbors playing LOUD music, calling security on neighbors, digital clock freaking out any time a phone signal was detected, phone ringing.... etc.

I had slept about one hour by the time Brad woke up on Saturday. He was completely unaware that I had been sick the whole night before (he has an amazing ability to sleep through ANYTHING), and he told me he had a Valentine's surprise for me. That's about when he noticed that I was curled up in a fetal position shivering. He had already paid for a nearby salon to send someone to give me an afternoon of spa treatments in our hotel room. Soooo sweet, but I just didn't think I could enjoy it given my sickly state. But the spa wouldn't let us cancel without paying the full price, so I went ahead with it.

I'm probably the only girl in the world who has ever tried to turn down such a thoughtful gift... I'm crazy. It ended up being just what I needed. A facial, seaweed wrap, and one-hour massage later, I felt tons better. It was enough to get me through the wedding that evening, and I ended up actually having a ton of fun. I was still sick, but not at all nauseous or head-achey. My husband is the sweetest, most thoughtful man I know, and he goes out of his way to make me believe I'm beautiful.

Sadly, the better health didn't last long. I woke up early this morning and was back to my old sickly tricks. The trip home was torturous... I don't know if you've ever boarded a plane with sinus problems, but the 30 or so minutes of descent make you want to rip your own head off. I've had sinus problems on a plane three times: once coming home from Washington, D.C. at age 12; once coming home from Europe at age 17; and of course, this afternoon, age 23. It's just the most explosive, stabbing, shooting feeling through your ears and into your eyes. Anyway. Tears were involved.

Brad took me to CVS on the ride home from the airport where we loaded up with meds, and then he took off for a kayaking trip with his dad and bro in San Marcos. It's probably better that he's not here; I don't much feel like being around anyone, and I certainly don't want to get him sick.

I have a low-grade fever now, aches, occasional waves of nausea, cough, sore throat, a terribly clogged-up head, and some slight, temporary hearing loss. I can't hear anything in the high registry. In the car when Brad would put the turn signal on, I could only hear the low clicks. It's my car, so I know it has HIGH CLICK, low click, HIGH CLICK, low click. And I could only hear the low click.

I'm hoping I'll be better enough to go to work tomorrow, because things have been VERY busy and I can't really afford to miss another day and let my work fall behind. I was out Friday for the wedding, so I'll already be catching up a little. Then I have class tomorrow night, and I absolutely can't miss any class.

School is going well. I love it, actually, and I'm glad Brad convinced me to do it! I do think I bit off a little more than I can chew; I'm taking three classes, and working full-time (full-full-full-time, some weeks :). I'm a little behind in one of my classes, but I plan on spending all next weekend catching up.

More later. This ended up being a post all about me being sick... Sorry... Love y'all.

Honest to Goodness

My wonderful and much lauded cousin Martha nominated me for the Honest Scrap blogger award! Read her list here. I don’t have her gift for brevity, so please bear with me on this long post as I list for you “10 honest things about me that you possibly do not know.” And make sure you read to the end, because I may have nominated YOU for the same task!

1. I am a wannabe vegan radical. For some reason I fancy myself a total earth mother, who makes frosting with arrowroot powder and agave nectar and coconut milk instead of butter and sugar (like this blogger does), advocates fair trade and lives super sustainably by making my own clothes and recycling my toilet water and maintaining a compost pile. But alas, I’m just not. Texas de Brazil is my idea of a special occasion dinner, and that’s as un-green and anti-vegan as it gets. I do want to live in a teeny tiny energy-efficient home, and to really serve others in my community. I just ordered a book on Amazon called Irresistible Revolution, and I think it’s going to help me figure out how I can live like a radical in my everyday Jesus-loving life. I’m pumped.
2. I was an overachiever in high school. I was vice president of student council, president of the National Honor Society, a National Merit Scholar Finalist, member of Thespian Society, member of Quill and Scroll, Varsity cheerleader (I quit before my junior year), yearbook editor, newspaper editor, even a member of the vocabulary club! And I’m sure I’m leaving stuff out.

A SACS Lion from age 5

While I don’t look back on those days wistfully (as in, “those were the days”), I do have good memories of high school. On the other hand, part of me wishes I had done less, because I kind of got burned out for college involvement. And on that note…

3. I love the University of Texas and will forever bleed burnt orange, but I don’t think I had an authentic college experience. I graduated early, and didn’t get involved in much except Communications Council (for one year), a student magazine and a free speech group. I also got involved with my church, but not until pretty late in the game. And I worked all through college, so that limited my ability to do a lot. However, God allowed me to have an amazing friend-for-life roommate in college, so I’m grateful for that. I graduated with highest honors, but I regret not taking full advantage of those rare years of being an undergrad.

Me and some of my favorite Longhorns :-)

These next few kind of go together…

4. I sometimes wonder what life would be like if I were still single. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m so GLAD to go through life with Brad, and I don’t regret marrying him for a second. I want to be really clear about that. I thank God every day for him, and for orchestrating everything about our meeting, dating, engagement and marriage the way He did. One of my top goals in life is to be an amazing wife to Bradford. My point is, I always thought I’d be at least 30 before I got married, but I met the man of my dreams at age 20! Just for the sake of curiosity, I sometimes think about what life would be like if I were in Paris and working as a journalist, or living in North Africa and working as a Peace Corps volunteer. Truth is, I’d probably still be right where I am, doing exactly what I’m doing. But it’s funny.

"So happy togetherrrr..."

5. I want babies sooner than four years from now (but I’m going to wait). Brad and I adopted the “five year plan” when we got married. We want to travel the world and finish grad school before other obligations enter the picture. I’m totally committed to the five year plan, but I have a twinkle in my eye for my babies. I can’t wait to meet them someday (Oct. 2012! Ha!).

6. I think Jesus is going to come back before I have kids. Maybe it’s the Christian school influence, but I have ALWAYS thought the second coming of Christ would happen before the next big milestone. I remember being in first grade, and Mrs. McGann told my class that in third grade we get to take achievement tests. I remember thinking “Third grade?! That’s so far away! Jesus will definitely come back before then.” We also lived near the airport growing up, and any time I heard the roar of a plane taking off, I thought it was the rapture. I thought Jesus would come back before I got married, and now I think Jesus will come back before I have kids.

7. Sometimes I want to move back to San Antonio. As much as I’d like to think I’ve got my stuff together up here in Dallas, visits to San Antonio and Boerne make me remember how much I miss my friends and family. It will probably get worse once baby Gaultneys enter the picture, but I know the Lord has us here for a reason, and we have commitments in Dallas that will keep us here for several more years. I really do love Dallas, and I’ve made amazing friends here… I just wish it weren’t a five-hour drive to “home.”

A dreamy picture of SA's Riverwalk, which I have visited probably three times in my life.

8. I have a long memory, sometimes to a fault. The good news is, I will NEVER forget your birthday. If you ask me to pray for something, I will NOT forget to lift you up. However, it also means I know which of Brad’s Corps buddies came to our wedding and didn’t give us a gift. And it means if you ever gave me a backwards compliment, I made a mental note. I hate that about me. Oh well.

9. I’m jealous of blondes. Gah, who knows why this is? Some of my very dearest friends are blonde (Sharkie, Dubey-Lew, Meago, Meggo, just to name a few), and I don’t have any problems with them at all, but other than that, I have this weird jealousy of blondes. Maybe it’s because there really is some buy-in to the “blondes have more fun,” adage, especially in Texas. But I’ve made it clear to Brad that he is not allowed to think blondes are pretty. I understand him saying that Anne Hathaway is attractive, because good night, I even think she’s a sex monster. But Kate Hudson? Carrie Underwood? That girl who dances on the table in the Bacardi Mojito commercial? NO. Not allowed.

Screen shot of the infamous Bacardi Mojito commercial

10. I’m actually really shy. That surprises some people. But yes, I’m a definite introvert, and most of the time I’d rather read a book or watch Bravo TV at home than go to a party.

So now I would like to take a moment to pass the torch to some of my fellow bloggers (including a blonde): Abby, Meagan and Stephanie. I’m tagging you because I love you and can’t wait to see the 10 things you’ll write about. :-) Now get bloggin’!

Restlessness (Warning: Long Post)

I’ve had this unsettled feeling in my heart now for several months. Like I want to move to Seattle, or maybe just Dallas’ Bishop Arts District; or go to grad school (more on that later); or start discipling middle school girls; or dye my hair fuchsia. Or buy a 9 mm and take concealed-carry classes (Oh wait, I’m already doing that. No seriously, I am.). Or maybe come home one day with my body all painted in henna paint à la Indian weddings.


So I think about all of these things but I still have this RESTLESS spirit, so much so that when I think about it my heart literally hurts. Like an aching for someone or something that I can’t identify. Like I'm grieving for something, really. It's not a depression, just a sense of loss over something I don't even understand. Talk about a state of confusion.

So I’ve prayed. Praying without knowing what you're asking for is hard, and even harder when you think you’re not hearing anything back. I have felt like the woman in Song of Solomon who searches for her lover but can’t find him.

I opened for my lover, but my lover had left; he was gone. My heart sank at his departure. I looked for him but did not find him. I called him but he did not answer. (SoS 5:6)

And it occurred to me… I’m not serving. I feel most alive in Christ when I’m serving him, and my top spiritual gifts are service and pastor/ shepherding. Maybe my lack of service is what’s causing this weird friction in my spirit. But what to do with this knowledge?

I sought godly counsel from an awesome, life-loving, astoundingly wise friend, who by the grace of God is also family. We’ll call her “Martha.” So Martha, irreverent as she may be, sat down with me over yummy, thin crust, European-style pizza yesterday in Southlake, and we cussed (a little :-), laughed about smoking on the sly, talked about motherhood (her) and future motherhood (me), and generally just had a mini heart-to-heart. Then I came out with it. “Martha,” I said. “What’s going on with me?” I gave her the back story, and she was blunt, as I hoped she would be (I’m paraphrasing):

“Hello? Did you ever think that this restlessness could be the way God is speaking to you, that he's trying to tell you to act on those sneaking suspicions?”

O-M-Goodness. No. Really, no. How could I not have realized that I wasn't just feeling crazy for the sake of crazy... He may be making me feel that way because I'm still not acting on his promptings. I didn’t consider that the Lord was trying to get my attention or affirm the longings of my heart by this aching feeling. But that makes SO much sense. ::: slaps forehead ::: Doh.

She had a lot more truth to speak to me, and I’m not giving her enough credit for her invaluable counseling abilities and insight, but I left feeling really validated – not only validated, but justified – over some of the nutty ideas that have been swirling. My heart and my head are still having a cage match with each other, and I have a lot of thinking to do, but today I really do feel a little bit better. I need to be in the Word for a while, and let some things marinate, but I think I can tell you more later.

I’m deeply grateful for Martha.

And for Brad, who encouraged me to apply for grad school, which I’ll be starting Jan. 22! It’s a professional program (code language for “I’m not quitting my job to go to school, don’t worry”), and I expect to go two nights a week. It’s funny how God works… in the middle of this season of spiritual frustration, I had to register for classes. I’m in a Master of Liberal Studies program, which will allow me to focus on art, French and writing (or as I call them, The Holy Trinity of Katie). But for this first semester, I wanted to have the same schedule as Brad so that we can carpool and spend an extra hour together a day during a time when we otherwise might not see each other a lot.

Well, I had to take a couple of required courses for my first semester, and the only other class that fit with the schedule wasn’t anything that fell into the aforementioned Trinity; it was a theology class.

Theology? Okay. I love Jesus, but theology is really Brad’s thing. I like Beth Moore and Max Lucado and John Piper… but theology?! But I clicked “register” and I’m in. And I have to wonder if God isn’t planning on teaching me something really significant through this course, which is called “The Spiritual Vision of Jesus.”

Think service might be a part of that vision?

Nonsense

I am convinced that my husband knows every song out there. We'll be driving through East Texas and a random bluegrass song from the 1950s will come on the radio, and he will be able to more or less sing along.

Or we'll be walking through GAP and some cheesy little teenage angst love song comes on, and he whines along in unison.

I've never even heard these songs, so sometimes I'm impressed by his music knowledge. But half the time -- no, more like 90 percent of the time -- he makes the lyrics up. They're phonetic, but they're usually WAY off. For example, Bruce Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light" is completely butchered by Brad. The actual lyrics are:

Blinded by the light,
Revved up like a deuce,
Another runner in the night..

But the way Brad sings it, it's:

Blinded by the light,
Wrapped up like a douche,
Another running uhhh-nuh night!

For YEARS, he actually thought those were the words. Seriously. Srsly.

Most of the time it's cute, but sometimes I can't believe that he doesn't know the words to these songs. Like, I get the feeling he'll just start singing whatever he wants.

Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love" may become:

I don't care what they say I'm uhh- luhhhhhh- you.
They try to tear me apart, but I uhhh- luhhhhh you.
Keep thinking, keep, keep sinking in luhhh,
I keep dreaming, keep, keep dreaming uh-huh...

Anyway, Brad is studying at Starbucks right now and listening to Coldplay. Apparently he was wishing he could serenade me, because I returned to my computer a moment ago and was simultaneously entertained and horrified by what was on my G-chat... Coldplay lyrics. Butchered. Nay, massacred. I'm going to put the actual line, followed immediately by Brad's version in red, for two of the songs.

"Clocks"

Lights go out and I can’t be saved
lights go out and a camping slave
Brought me down upon my knees
bought me down - oh I beg and please

Shoot an apple off my head
hoot an apple off my head

And a, trouble that can’t be named
trouble trouble can't be named.
Tigers waitin’ to be tamed
Tigers waiting to be swinged

Confusion never stops
cold fusion never stops,
Closing walls and ticking clocks
all the stuff clocks

Curse missed opportunities
curse stop, my chin-a-neese

Home, home, where I wanted to go
Comb, where I want it to be.

"Green Eyes"

Honey you are a rock
honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand...
pun witch I stan...

That green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you...
the green I's, yeah the spark light, shins up on you
I came here with a load
i came here with a lobe
And it feels so much lighter, now I’ve met you...
and it feels so much lighter now I metchu...

Sighhh... What a crazy, goofy man I have married. :-) Thanks for indulging me.

Simple Joys

I have a bit of a paranoia about my Google News page. There’s that nifty little section of articles “Recommended for” me, which should be a convenient assortment of news stories that may interest me based on articles I’ve recently clicked on.

However, much of the time I find it’s filled with mindless entertainment news that, since it’s “recommended for” me, makes me feel like a total ditz. I emailed Brad a screen shot in March of this year after a particularly bad selection turned up:

But today, JOY! My Google-chosen selection of articles represented sentient, relevant news:

Is it sad that my Google News page can have such a profound effect on my self-esteem?

In other news, Brad and I have started going on a weekly date – Wednesdays or Sundays – since he’s getting busier with school and work. This way we are sure to spend some quality time together, even if it’s just a trip to White Rock Lake for a walk.

Sushi is a favorite date of ours. I was thrilled with the presentation of our BOAT-load of sushi!

And we made friends with the sushi chef, who carved some sort of animal out of oranges for each of us. He carved it right in front of us! So cool… awesome knife skills. Although I can’t really tell what this is supposed to be. Maybe a frog with an open mouth? And the orange segments are in his mouth?

What do you think?

And last, but CERTAINLY not least – I have some exciting family news. I'm going to have a sister! No, my mom is not pregnant. My older brother Matt proposed to his girlfriend of over two years in New York last week! They are planning an April wedding, and I couldn't be happier for both of them. Brittney fits in so well with the Thorne clan, and that's not easy! Here's a photo of the happy couple:

Even though Ike caused some tragic devastation, it allowed me and Brad an opportunity to spend some time with the lovebirds. They were supposed to fly back from New York to Houston, where they both live and work, but that wasn't happening! So we spent a few days together and it was cool to be the first to see the ring, the video, etc.

Praise God for simple joys!

Let Them Eat Cake – and Pies, and Tarts…

I’m a big believer in the joy of cooking. I have to be! Goodness knows I’m not the tidiest housekeeper ever. Both of my parents are meticulously organized keep their house spotless to the point that the tops of their ceiling fans could pass a white-glove test any day of the week.

In fact, I have a bit of a complex about how I inexplicably missed the cleanliness gene. The moderate germaphobe gene, however, I got. It doesn't compute. Elevator buttons, shopping cart handles, laminated menus and the like give me the heeby-jeebies because of all the pernicious microbes undoubtedly harbored by these surfaces. Then I found out from my colleague Alison yesterday that even my own wet laundry could be a disease carrier.

But I digress.

My point is, since my house never seems to be as spic-and-span as I’d like it to be, I have to play up my strengths. Baking happens to be one of them, and cakes are a particular forte. Brad and I celebrated his mother’s birthday yesterday at Mattito’s in Uptown, and the birthday-cake-baking honor fell to me. I’m not a huge chocoholic unless it’s DARK chocolate. The darker the better. So knowing Teresa’s love for the dark master, the cocoa bean, I created my most chocolatey confection to date. It was a dark chocolate layer cake with real fudge icing, chocolate ganache filling, and chocolate-covered cocoa beans on top. (The word "ganache" always makes me think of Stephanie's wedding, since Taylor's groom's cake was covered in chocolate ganache, which Stephanie described as "magic chocolate icing." So true.) I hope you don’t mind allowing me to indulge in a little show-and-tell:

(Love the Crate and Barrel cake dome and foot too. A wedding gift, naturally.)

The night before my birthday last year, I determined to make my own birthday cake. Pathetic? Perhaps. But it gets worse. I had decided on a pineapple cheesecake (combining two of God’s greatest inventions) and set about my mise en place. I had gotten no further than melting the butter when, through an uncanny series of events, I ended up with second-degree burns across my abdomen. I won’t go into details except to say that scalding butter + laundry night = pas bon.


This year I had more luck. Here’s my birthday cake from last month, before I dressed it with gobs and gobs of cream cheese frosting. The photo was taken from my phone. This was my own recipe, three layers of yellow cake with a pastry cream filling and chopped fresh strawberries mixed in:

Now the birthday cake I made my mom. It was a coconut cake with white lemon buttercream frosting and strawberries for garnish:

Last winter I got a case of cabin fever and decided to make a super summery cake. I love coming up with my own recipes, as I did with my birthday cake this year. The next photo shows one of my more successful dabblings. To fight some cold weather blues, I created this lemon cake with raspberry filling and orange zest buttercream icing. Summer heaven:

And a final Katie-penned recipe. This pear and almond tart had the richest, most gloriously spicy glaze and a chewy cream cheese dough crust. The perfect fall comfort food:

I owe much of my lovin’ of the oven to the Thorne women. Three generations of bakers: