old time religion

This beautiful sheer floral jewel toned dress will be in the shop sometime soon. I have a bunch of new pieces to add to nakedcowgirlvintage, but not a lot of time to put them online.

Transitional Housing for my family is my life these days, but it hasn’t been so bad. I’m happy to be in the position to help. As you may recall from a recent post, my brother was staying with me for about a week prior to entering rehab, and now my dad is staying with me until his mission trip to Indonesia comes into fruition (hopefully sooner than later. I won’t be able to house him indefinitely). Here are some mental scans of life with my dad this week:

In the morning before work: my dad’s round head covered in fuzzy wisps of hair, peaking through the blankets like the head of some cartoon caterpillar, his teeth in a plastic orange cup on our formica coffee table next to his beside. Like the stars, his teeth come out at night. His joke, not mine.

Evenings: We eat dinner together, and my dad tells us of his day’s ramblings, along with his full repertoire of jokes in his slow southern cadence, jokes that we’ve heard a million times before. Sometimes I laugh; Other times, I cringe. Pete generally seems to be amused. My dad also sings old folk songs, and I’m always amazed at how old timey he seems in today’s world of rapidly advancing technology, pop music, mega churches. He’s saving people in the streets of my town, and one lady started praying in tongues when he touched his finger to her forehead. He’s simultaneously walking off tummy mountain, built on a few years of southern fried food.

Bedtime: Pete and I have been watching Netflix instant in bed (Portlandia - so funny!, and old timey music documentaries that make my feet restless), while my dad watches every version of “The Passion” on the Trinity Broadcast Network (TBN), though last night he fell asleep to Ladies Ultimate Fighting. A funny anecdote: When I do the dishes at night, I like to listen to music, but my dad still likes to watch television with the volume down low. Last night, 60s girl groups served as the soundtrack for Jesus’ Crucifixion story.

I’m excited for the weekend. It’s supposed to be 81 degrees, and I’m going to play all day in the sun, and hopefully take some film photos! I miss my film camera so. Happy spring time, friends.