Hart Square

For more than thirty years, Dr. Robert Hart of Hickory has rescued and restored Carolina life of the nineteenth century, recreating an entire village, Hart Square—the largest collection of original historic log buildings in the United States.  Dating from 1782 to 1873, the seventy log structures—chapels, barns, houses, shops, and more—are all furnished, and volunteer artisans demonstrate the period techniques of cooking, pottery, making moonshine, music and so much more.  This incredible village (it truly is a total village) is nestled in a beautiful wooded spot, complete with a lake for fishing, just outside of town.

Mark and Leah spent the day exploring Hart Square, awe-struck by the magnitude, detail and authentic charm of this world that for the day (they only open it to the public once a year) transcends time.  Leah was in a suspended state of thrill seeing up close many of the elements of her beloved Little House on the Prairie books (a cotton gin, a wagon of hay drying in the sun, a one room schoolhouse, a “fancy” buggy, log houses with straw mattresses, smokehouses, root cellars...oh my!).  Our California roots were showing, we both immediately thought of what a great location it would be for filming- much to the dismay of the true historians standing next to us.

If you are contemplating a fall North Carolina trip, it is well worth planning it around this special event.  Seeing the rustic beauty and simplicity of the log homes was a good reminder to us that there is peace, truth and splendor in having less, in being useful, in sheltering your family with quilts, food and love.  Mark is thankful to be back to the time where doorways and ceilings are over six feet, Leah plans to walk to the library and check out a few of those old favorites (so sad, no clue where her original set of Little House books from childhood ended up) and maybe, just maybe, we can embrace that feeling of treasuring the basics and take it with us into the overdrive and chaos of modern life.

Harvest Festival

The fantastic Clark family once again hosted the church Harvest Festival out at their gorgeous "homestead." An afternoon of friends, hayrides, pony rides, bobbing for apples, pumpkins and s'mores...what better way to welcome fall?  Nope, we couldn't come up with anything better either.

Eleven

Nothing turns out the way we planned.

But, you’re still my baby and I’m still your man.

-Griffin House, Better Than Love

At the eleven-year mark you start to get a sense of what this marriage thing is all about.   By now, you have had the chance to make some big mistakes and to get really lucky.  You tried and worked and won, you have tried and worked and lost.  You have had some dreams come true and had to let go of some dreams to get there. 

You have been blessed with many moments showered in the light of the sweet, fun stuff- playing house with lots of new shiny things, a grown-up monogram, walking the streets of Paris nibbling warm crepes, long car drives where conversation and dreams have room to meander, stepped out in style in San Francisco, settled into to the same wave length where less words mean more, Christmas day picnics on the beach, your first family photo holding your bundled newborn child, first smiles, first steps, first stumbles, classic “family moments” that feel straight from a movie scene.  Time has given you an album of snapshots, moments and memories that you can snuggle into with a satisfied smile.

But after a decade, and the lifting of the foggy haze of small children survival mode, you begin to find the beauty of marriage is truly found in the real, dirty love– The love that hurts and forgives.  The love that sacrifices yet can safely demand to be selfish. The love that stumbles through the dark valley clutching your hand and is humbled when the light returns.  The love that knows how much your victories demanded, and believes in you when the victory doesn’t come.  The love that uncovers the deep wounds of the heart and chooses to nurture and heal them, realizing that it will be a life long process of patience and protection.   The love that chooses to stay and in turn is rewarded with a trust, comfort and joy that demands your heart to respect, admire and emulate those around you who reach the big anniversaries, knowing that the 25, or the 40, or the 50 has cost more and given more than any bright-eyed bride and groom could fathom as they eat their triple layer butter cream cake.

You discover the kind of love that smiles at you across the room, a room strewn with battered toys, piled-high laundry baskets, more bills to pay, chipped paint to touch-up and two (amazing and adorable) cranky kids who still need baths, teary eyed because at that moment your life is more perfect and complete than you could have ever planned. 

Happy Anniversary Mark, I am so thankful to be your baby.  You will forever be my man.  XOXO-Leah

The Boy Turns Four

Benjamin Mark Watson is officially four.  He has been restlessly waiting to add that extra finger to the tally he holds up whenever anyone asks his age. 

Friday morning he awoke to treasures from near and far — this kid is lucky to have so many people who love and spoil him.  We surprised him with a bike, he officially became a man in pursuit of Legos, his Wii game collection doubled (from 2 to 4), his reign as best dressed boy at church will continue and his rock star status skyrocketed with a toy electric guitar.  Funny Ben, when he first came upon the birthday bounty in the living room he zeroed in on his new Cat in the Hat book and held it for a couple minutes saying over and over, “I have my own Cat in the Hat book,” before he really saw all the other presents around him. 

We went out to dinner at the club with some close friends Friday night.  We discovered that Clara the carnivore would be happy to eat her weight in baby back ribs and that no drop of ice cream must be left behind in the bowl, even if that means a face first dive to lick and slurp.  Ben loved wearing his birthday crown (a Casa Watson tradition) and pretty much got away with eating only French fries and ice cream for dinner — hey, it was his birthday.

Saturday was party day with a police theme.  Last week we delivered an invite to the station (along with a batch of peanut butter cookies) and they sent over two officers, a goody bag of police loot for Ben and let the kids pile into the backseat of the squad car.  Thankfully, the day brought blue skies and sunshine, with over a dozen kids celebrating Ben’s big day.  We managed to make it through the party with minimal meltdowns, cheerful cupcake consumption and proficient piñata pounding.  Ben said his favorite decoration at the party was the dog with the crown.  Clara was most excited to wear the whistle and Ben’s hand me down police hat (he said he was “too old” for it now). 

These festivities happened during a busy few days of pastoral responsibilities for Mark, he gracefully gave both his family and his parishioners his whole heart.  As the weekend comes to a close, we are all exhausted but ever thankful, knowing that each year we have together is a gift, to be celebrated and cherished…and that at least once a year, we all deserve to wear a crown. 

Needed Sunshine

The weekend was heavy with emotions and memories.  It was two years ago that Leah was released from the care of her oncologist at Duke. For the first time in over a year filled with worry, pregnancy, surgeries and a long recovery, we felt safe and free from this unexpected, scary burden.  The very next day came the horrific news of the loss of our niece and we were plunged into a grief and sadness darker than any other we had faced.   On Saturday, we sought out the best (and cheapest) therapy around, we headed outside and allowed the sunshine, crisp fall breeze, monkey bars and peek-a-boo to soothe our wounded hearts. 

Ben and Clara have the protection of childhood to shield them from deep fear and despair, but in their own way they understand that things here on earth aren’t as they should be.  When these moments of introspection are revealed through Clara tenderly touching Leah’s scar on her neck and asking again and again, “Mommy’s boo-boo all better?” or Ben wondering about heaven, so assured he will one day play with his cousin Grace, that they bring another kind of sunshine to our hearts, one that allows us to believe in healing, love and hope for our world.