Author / Kelly Mattei

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Posts by Kelly Mattei

I grew up in Alabama but have lived in Charlotte, NC, for more than 25 years...longer than I've ever lived any other one place. Growing up, we moved a few times, so when people ask where I’m from, I just say Alabama, even though I have lived in three other states. I have been married for 25 years, and we have one daughter, who has one year of college left. We love being parents, but we also love empty-nesting. We enjoy traveling, star-gazing, walking, and sunshine. I worked in the travel business for 11 years, and I’m always looking for the next place to visit, but interestingly, I don’t like going where everyone else is going. If everyone else is going to Italy or Greece, no thanks. I’d rather go to Latin America or somewhere in the US I haven’t seen before. I’ve never liked doing what everyone else is doing! I have visited 40 states and would love to visit all 50. I also consider myself a “connector.” I like helping people know other people. No, not for money…for fun.
by Kelly Mattei

Forever Friends

Forever friends.

We never really know who will be our forever friends, do we? I have had friends in my life I thought would be forever friends, but for different reasons (sometimes my fault, sometimes theirs, sometimes no one’s fault), it didn’t work out that way. For the most part, we just never knew the last phone call would be the last phone call. Or the last lunch would be the last lunch. We just drifted apart for whatever reason…moving, new responsibilities, life. No matter what, they all had some effect on my life. I have learned something from every friend in my life.

But my 18-yr-old daughter is visiting a friend in Pensacola, Florida, this weekend, and I think they are going to be forever friends. I can’t explain why I think it, but I do. Something about these two…a bond formed outside of other friendships, maybe? They support each other all the time. They have each other’s backs all the time. And they have similar interests (they’re both athletic, fun, and funny). They talk, I think, almost every single night via Facetime. So many nights I have walked into my daughter’s room to wish her good night, and she is talking with this friend. It makes me happy.

In 2014, when my daughter was 10 years old, we had a place on the Alabama Gulf Coast. That summer, because we knew she wouldn’t be willing to do it later, we decided to spend most of our time there…at the beach. Our daughter was playing club soccer, and at that point, she was very into it. Her club soccer coach, upon hearing we would be at the beach for the summer, suggested she find someone to practice with there…or even attend a camp there. So I did what moms do; I enrolled her in a camp and also enrolled her in some regular training sessions.

The camp I signed her up for turned out to be on the Naval Base in Pensacola. That Monday morning, bright and early, when we arrived, she looked out at the field from the car and said to me, “Mom, it’s all little kids.” She was right. It looked like a lot of six and seven year old kids. We had arrived early, so we had time to sit in the car and talk while we scanned the field. After a few minutes, I spotted a blonde girl who appeared to be about my daughter’s age, and I said, “There’s a girl your age!” She didn’t waste any time; she jumped out of the car and ran straight to the girl on the field. I stayed for the session but didn’t watch all the training. I walked around the area for exercise while she played, but I noticed when they had a break and walked back over to the sideline. My daughter came running over, her new friend in tow and introduced me to Lindsey. Even after knowing each other for an hour, they were already acting like best friends!

The camp was a one-week camp. Our daughter wasn’t feeling well one of the days, so she missed. Another day, it stormed, as it does on the Gulf Coast. But when she was there, she played soccer with her new friend at the camp. The last day was cut short by another storm, and soon after starting, the skies opened with torrential rains. We all ran to our cars to escape the downpour, and the rest of the last day of the camp was canceled. We left without getting contact information for Lindsey, because everything had ended so abruptly. It was fun while it lasted.

The next week, I took our daughter to the first of the weekly soccer training sessions. It was just going to be two hours a week on Wednesday mornings. So that Wednesday morning, I drove her to the field. And when we arrived, she looked out at the field and said, “Mom, it’s all big kids.” I couldn’t believe it. She was right. They all appeared to be over 13, and she was just 10. We sat in the car and talked about whether she wanted to do the training or not, and after a few minutes, I saw a minivan pull up behind me, and three kids tumbled out…two older kids and a girl who appeared to be our daughter’s age. I said, “Look! That girl is about your age!” She looked back and excitedly said, “It’s Lindsey!” And she couldn’t get out of the car fast enough! She jumped out with her soccer bag, and the girls embraced happily before going out onto the field.

After that, Lindsey visited us at our place on the beach, and the girls bonded. Whenever we visited the beach after that, they hung out. Two girls who lived 500 miles apart became best friends…having been brought together by soccer…with a little nudge from God, I think. Eventually, Lindsey visited us in Charlotte a couple of times, and last year, she vacationed with us in California. I’m not sure if her parents know it yet, but the girls are planning for her to vacation with us again this summer…maybe more than once!

Their meeting and formation of a friendship is one of my favorite friendship stories. In the fall, they are both off to college. No, they aren’t going to the same school. Mine is going to the University of Alabama, and Lindsey is off to Ole Miss. They’ll be just three hours apart, so I see lots of road trips in their future.

They’ll likely still Facetime regularly, though not every night, but I feel pretty sure these two will be forever friends. God put them in each other’s path for a reason.

by Kelly Mattei

College Hiccups

College hiccups can be deciding factors in the admissions process.

Our daughter is a high school senior who plans to matriculate to my college alma mater in the fall. We have paid the enrollment fee. I know lots of people are still deciding. I am on a college parents’ page, and several of my friends are too. We see red flags in some of the posts, so I’m going to share a few here as “cautionary tales.” Every parent/student needs to do their homework beforehand, because stuff happens. There are often things we don’t consider beyond tuition/dorms and usual college stuff, but here are some surprising posts from different college parent pages:

  • “We live across the country. My son is having mental health issues. Can we get a tuition refund?” What the what?!?! I wasn’t the only person who saw red flags on this. The first response was, “You need to stop worrying about a tuition refund and go help your child.” The original poster’s response? “I can’t afford to fly there.” If I could not afford to get to my child in an emergency situation, I would have to reconsider her college. She would need to go closer to home. My daughter needs an advocate in emergencies. Our daughter is going 500 miles away, but we have family and close friends in the area, and we can afford to get there. What to consider: whether the unexpected cost of a last-minute airline ticket would break the bank for you. And please, if your child is having mental health issues (it can happen to anyone), get there as fast as you can.
  • “My daughter joined a sorority, and we thought the dues/fees were all-inclusive. It’s costing way more than we expected.” Anyone considering joining the Greek community needs to know dues/fees don’t include everything. There are hidden costs…t-shirts for every event, tickets for formals, dresses for formals, gifts for bigs/littles, costumes for parties, lettered gear, sorority/fraternity pins…it adds up. If you’re strapped for cash, you want to know the fees/dues before entering the process. At some big southern universities, Greek dues can be $5000/semester for people who don’t live in the house and $10k per semester for those who do. Whereas, at other colleges with smaller or no houses, they can be much lower. For a US News article from November 2021 about this, click here. What to consider: Be sure it isn’t cost prohibitive. It is unfair to a chapter to accept a bid knowing you can’t afford it.
  • “My son forgot to get his necessary prescription refilled. Can someone tell me the name of a pharmacy that makes same-day deliveries?” I get it. I have forgotten to get meds refilled in a timely manner. If your child has a prescription that he/she needs regularly, it is a good idea to check out pharmacies/delivery services on the front end instead of waiting till the “forget” happens. When you visit the college or university, take time to find a pharmacy that would work with him/her…if there is one. It could be a lifesaver…literally. If there isn’t a pharmacy nearby that can help your child on the fly with deliveries of a life/death medication, you might want to think about another school. What to consider: the health of your child.
  • “My child needs a ride to the airport/city, etc. If you have a child driving that way, maybe you can help him out?“ We are sending our daughter with a car, but if we weren’t, I would do my homework on this. I wouldn’t want her to be dependent on other students for transportation. Sometimes, students need rides. I would research public transportation for rides near campus. For the airport, which is an hour from her college, I would research shuttles/hired cars and expect to pay. I could not expect another student to be my child’s personal airport shuttle; that’s a lot of time/gas/wear and tear. Carpooling is nice for those who have outbound flights at about the same time, but what happens when your child’s return flight is delayed for hours? Expect the other student to wait five or six hours? No. If you’re not sending your child with a car, check college/university web pages for travel information. They often list airport shuttles/car services/taxi companies. What to consider: Make sure transportation is reliable and not cost prohibitive. To read about some of those costs, click here.
  • “I thought there would be nonstop flights between College Town and our city, but there aren’t…” Hmmmm…find out about the flight situation before you enroll your child in a college or university. If your child isn’t going to college in a hub city (Charlotte, Atlanta, Dallas, New York, Chicago, Miami, etc.) and you don’t live in a hub city, chances are there won’t be nonstop flights. Lots of people have trouble with this concept. Sure, Southwest Airlines doesn’t have a spoke-and-hub system for their flights, but most major carriers do. Connecting flights add travel time (making weekend visits shorter) and increase the odds of cancellations/delays, so do your homework beforehand. Check different airline sites or Orbitz/Expedia/Trivago. And get an idea about the costs of those flights. For lots of people, this can be a deciding factor. What to consider: Travel time, and again, if cost is a factor, this needs to be considered. For even more info about travel costs for students, click here. And always remember the costs listed in the article are “average.” For example, I know my daughter’s travel costs will be more than average. If your child is flying to/from college, the costs likely will be higher than a child who is driving to/from college.
  • “I loved the university when I was there, but my child has not made friends and wants to transfer to a smaller school. What to do?” Maybe it’s going to take time, or maybe they need to transfer. The school that was perfect for you might not be perfect for your child. Or maybe you didn’t go there but wanted to; it might not be the place for your child. Maybe you thrived, or would have thrived, in that environment, but your child won’t. I have friends who went to big schools, but their children need to go to smaller colleges…and vice versa. One friend who went to college with me said her daughter is intimidated by the school. She said her “less-than-fashionable” daughter (her words, not mine) fears she won’t “find her people” in the big setting. She even went so far as to say her child is afraid she would feel like “the poor kid” (again, her words). Yikes. If she’s concerned about it, it’s a real concern. I spoke with a friend this morning whose daughter has been accepted to her southern alma mater that’s mostly in-state students, but they live in Ohio. My friend said, “I was southern, but she’s not. We are taking that into consideration.” Make sure your child spends some time at the colleges he/she is considering. What to consider: They need to feel comfortable. You can’t fit a square peg into a round hole. Are you pushing your child to do what you did/wanted to do? Same with this next post…
  • “I always wanted my child to attend Prestigious University, but he wanted to go to Big State University. Anyone else have trouble reconciling that?” This one bothers me. Your child is going to college; you aren’t. Instead of saying anything further, I’m going to recommend you read a piece from Grown and Flown here. What to consider: where your child goes to school is not who he/she is.
  • “We want to visit our son during a football game weekend, but I’m having trouble finding inexpensive lodging. Suggestions?” Depending on where your child goes to school, it’s important to consider lodging costs. If you want to visit your child on a “big football” weekend at some schools (especially SEC schools), it’s not going to be cheap. And if it is cheap, you probably don’t want to stay there. Factor in lodging costs if you are going to need to stay overnight when you visit your child. You can’t stay in the dorm! Where our daughter is going, I know hotels are not inexpensive, and the price goes up during football weekends (supply and demand!), and on some other weekends too. You want to be able to visit without breaking the family budget. What to consider: will you be able to visit when you want? To read an article from 2018 that offers some examples of the cost of attending college football games…without inflation, click here.
  • “We live out of state, and my daughter only wants to to to College Z, but being out of state, we are going to have to get loans for everything. I’m worried about the debt. Anyone else?” I feel so badly for this mom. She clearly cares about her child’s happiness. But I worry about their taking on unnecessary debt. I know lots of people who tell their children they can’t go out-of-state, because of cost. I have a friend who went out of state for a specific major; when she changed her major, her parents told her, “Then you’re coming back to our state. We aren’t paying out of state tuition if you can get the same degree in-state.” And she did. I feel like, in the 1980s, when I was a teenager, lots of parents told their kids they had to stay in-state. The person who created the post in question is sending her child to a school that is going to cost her $50-$55K per year…all in loans. She could likely send her to an in-state public university for $30k or less per year. Big difference: $200k vs $120k. If you can afford the out-of-state tuition, it’s one thing, but she would be taking on all that as debt when her child can likely find an acceptable, fun in-state school. Remember what the Rolling Stones said: You can’t always get what you want. What to consider: Are you or your child going to be in debt forever for an educational experience they could get closer to home for less?

Here’s my official disclaimer: I am not a college counselor. I am not a professional anything. I am a parent of a high school senior, and the posts above are from parent pages of different colleges. Trust me when I say these are tame examples. Some of them are real doozies.

My thoughts? Do your own homework about the school, all possible hidden costs, and as many different situations as you can conjure up in your brain. It seems like a lot of the posts I see are about money and mental health. Do your homework. It can make a big difference in whether your child will be happy and healthy or not…and whether you’ll be able to visit each other during the school year or not.

And good luck with the process. One day, we will look back on this with fond memories.

***If you are on a college parents’ page and have seen some submissions to share, please send them to me in a private message! Maybe we will have a Part 2!***

by Kelly Mattei

Am I the Only One?

Am I the only one?

A friend who also has a daughter who is a senior in high school posted earlier on Facebook that she is sad she isn’t signing a re-enrollment contract for her daughter at our private school. Several other moms chimed in that they are sad too.

But I didn’t.

Am I the only mom who is excited (and not sad at all) about her child’s high school graduation?

I am sure I will be sad later. I will most certainly miss our daughter, our only child. Our house will be really quiet without her comings and goings. I won’t get to watch late night movies or TV shows with her in her room, after she comes home from wherever she has been with friends. Yes, I will definitely miss her. My heart will break a little when I drop her off at college.

However, I’m not feeling that sadness right now.

What I’m feeling right now is excitement, hope, and happiness. To be frank, it borders on sheer elation, joy, glee, euphoria…call it what you will…it’s not sadness.

I’m excited for her to get to college and hopefully, have a great four-year experience she will remember for the rest of her life. I’m excited for her to make lifelong friends from lots of different places like I did. I’m excited for her to experience college sports from a student point of view. I’m excited for her to figure out what she wants to major in. Yes, her experience, 37 years after my own, will be different than mine, but some things will be similar. She’ll be attending my alma mater! Some of the same restaurants and bars are there. Lots of the same buildings are there. And the kids of some of my college friends are there! I’m excited for her to meet them or accidentally discover that I was friends with a new friend’s mom or dad. There is so much that lies ahead for her. Sure, we have to get everything moved into her dorm, but she will remember move-in day for the rest of her life! There is so much emotion tied to it that it gets locked into long-term memory. And she gets to move into a brand new dorm! She will be the first person to live in the room…with her roommate, of course.

I’m also excited for me and my husband! We won’t plan our lives completely by the school calendar anymore. Want to travel for a couple of weeks in October? We can do that! We won’t even have to check the calendar to see what days our daughter has off! We can go out to a late dinner on a weeknight, if we want, without worrying about getting our daughter up early for school the next morning. We’ll also have an excuse to go to more of my alma mater’s football games…our daughter will be there!

Hope is another emotion I am feeling. I’m hopeful about our daughter’s future. I’m hopeful she will take advantage of the opportunities that lie ahead of her at the university. I’m hopeful she will experience new things and travel to new places with new friends. So…much…hope!

And I’m feeling happiness. I love the school where she has been since transitional kindergarten. It’s a great independent school in Charlotte. We have made lots of great friends there. But it’s time. I’ll be happy to see it in my rearview mirror, because that means we are onward and upward…progress. To be honest, my daughter and I both have what’s known as “senioritis.” We both feel ready to move past senior year and start the next chapter, and I think that’s a good thing. We won’t end the school year wanting more. I’m happy to know we are closing this chapter soon. We will still see our friends…just not in a school setting.

So yes, this second semester of our daughter’s senior year is an emotional time. I just seem to be feeling different emotions than a lot of other mothers I know. I’m not sad. I’m not depressed. I’m sure I’ll experience some sadness later, but right now, I’m excited about the future…for me and for our daughter!

Am I the only one?

by Kelly Mattei

Y’all Have a Great Night!

Y’all have a great night!

This morning, while I was drinking my morning coffee (brought to me in bed by my husband, as always), I opened my Facebook app. I always go straight to “memories” first, because it’s fun to see posts from previous years “on this day.” After that, I always scroll through my news feed.

Today as I scrolled through my news feed, I came across a post from a high school friend . He had shared a piece written by Sean Dietrich, whose column, Sean of the South, is followed by lots of good southerners, because we understand him, and he understands us. He has also written some well-received books about life in the south. He writes about covered dish lunches in church fellowship halls, southern childhoods, old ladies from the neighborhood, and other southern things. If you haven’t read him, you should. If you have read him but don’t “get it,” you likely didn’t grow up in the south. Sometimes, he writes about towns I’m familiar with…like Brewton, Alabama, where I lived as a child. He lived there too, and has some fond memories, just like I do.

His piece today was about Alabama, in fact. Apparently, he received a letter from a reader…someone in Brooklyn telling him how “backwards” Alabama is. FYI, Mr. Brooklyn, the word is “backward,” without the “s” in standard American English, but I digress. Mr. Dietrich’s response is a piece called In Defense of Alabama, and it’s good. You can read it here. He lists lots of great people from Alabama. He left out a few of my favorites like Harper Lee, Fannie Flag, Evander Holyfield, Channing Tatum, Condoleezza Rice, Jim Nabors, Nell Carter, Jimmy Buffett, and a host of other great entertainers, business people, leaders, coaches, and athletes, but in the piece, he makes some valid points about the great state of Alabama, but he forgot something…something very important.

Several years ago, my daughter and I flew down to Montgomery to visit my mother, and during that same weekend, we drove up to Tuscaloosa from Mother’s house to attend the Alabama/LSU football game. It was a night game (think great football under bright lights with an electric atmosphere)…the best kind of game in Bryant-Denny Stadium…and it ended late. We had to drive back to Mother’s house about two hours away, and it took us over an hour to get out of Tuscaloosa in the game traffic. No biggie, except about one hour into the drive, I was fading fast. We were on I-65 south of Birmingham, and I needed caffeine. With nowhere to stop in sight, I prayed the Whataburger at the Clanton exit was open 24 hours. Yes, I literally prayed Whataburger would be open. (If you’re familiar with Whataburger, you have probably prayed it was open on occasion too…it’s that good. To see their website, click here.) My daughter was praying too. We are late-nighters, but it had been a long day.

As we neared the exit, I could see that great orange oasis looming ahead. All the lights were on. Was it open? We took the exit, and as we neared Whataburger, we could see it was, indeed, open. We placed our order at the drive-thru speaker, and my daughter remarked at how sweet the voice was on the other end. She went on to say, “People in Alabama are so nice.” I said, “Yes, generally speaking, they are. How much do you want to bet she tells us to have a good night before we drive away?” She laughed. We pulled forward to the window and paid, and as the girl handed us our order, she said, “Have a great night!” My daughter and I looked at each other knowingly as we pulled away from the window, and my daughter said to me, “Not only did she say it, but she sounded like she meant it!”

I’ve written before about the “social experiment” we conducted a few years ago in Beverly Hills. We love Beverly Hills. In fact, we try to visit two or three times a year. But Beverly Hills and Alabama are very different in lots of obvious ways. We decided one morning as we walked down the sidewalk, to wish everyone a “good morning.” Most of the time, we got weird looks back. A few people managed to murmur “good morning” back as they tucked their handbags closer to their bodies. But several people reacted gleefully…hugging us and thanking us for the kindness, because they never hear “good morning” on the street there!

The next time we visited Beverly Hills, we were with friends from Boston. As we enjoyed our breakfast in a Beverly Hills restaurant one morning, a gentleman walked past our table on his way to the deli case and smiled. I smiled and kept talking to my friend. When he passed again, he smiled again. I smiled and gave a little wave…it’s what I do. Apparently, he walked past two more times, and I smiled without even realizing it. As we were leaving, he ran up to the door and stopped me, saying he and his wife were dining in the back of the restaurant and decided to see how many people smiled back when he walked to the deli case. He said, “I smiled at every person at every table I passed, and you were the only one who smiled back. Not only did you smile every time, you waved!” I told him about our previous social experiment, and we all had a good laugh. He asked where I was from, and when I told him I’ve lived in North Carolina for years but grew up in Alabama, he said, “I should have guessed! Southern hospitality!”

One thing you can know for sure: if you wish someone in Alabama “good morning” on the sidewalk or smile at them as you walk past in a restaurant, you’re likely to get a hearty “good morning” back…with a smile! And they won’t think you’re trying to steal their handbag! That’s what Sean Dietrich forgot to mention in his piece defending Alabama…the people. Visit, and you’re likely to be greeted warmly at every turn.

The people are the greatest thing about Alabama, where southern hospitality is alive and well.

***Here’s my disclaimer: I’m not saying people in Beverly Hills aren’t good. There are good people everywhere. Obviously, we love Beverly Hills…we keep going back for more!***

by Kelly Mattei

Groundhog Day

Groundhog Day.

Something about Groundhog Day makes me a little introspective every year. I know…weird. Most people don’t even notice Groundhog Day, and they haven’t even thought about it since they were kids. Well, I’m not “most people.”For a variety of reasons, Groundhog Day has meaning to me.

My godmother was born on Groundhog Day. She passed away in April 2020, during the first round of pandemic shutdowns. On the day she died, a bluebird “harassed” me as I walked through our neighborhood. OK, “harassed” is a strong word. Maybe I should just say a bluebird followed me. It flew around me, and it landed on a mailbox in front of me, as if it were waiting for me to approach. As I got closer, it dropped down to the ground and just watched me…from really close. I thought it was odd at the time, but a couple of days later, I learned that my godmother had passed that day. She loved “bluebirds of happiness.” She had given my mother some glass bluebirds of happiness that I sent back to her after Mother died. Was the bluebird’s visit really a visit from her? I’ll never know, but Happy Heavenly Birthday to Cynthia!

Also on Groundhog Day, I started my blog in 2018, a little over a month after my mother passed away. I was nervous about putting myself out there, but I shouldn’t have been. Everyone I know has always been so supportive and gracious. And I’d like to think some of my own experiences have helped others. Plus, I have quite the record of crazy stories from my life for my daughter to read later…long after I’m gone.

When I was a little girl, I fell in love with the whole idea of Groundhog Day when my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Peavy, told us about it. I was five, and I was absolutely fascinated by the idea of a groundhog (which I had never seen in south Alabama) coming out to look for its shadow! And the idea that it would predict how much winter was left was incredible to me! I took it at face value. I truly believed that groundhog knew something the rest of us didn’t. Oh, to be five years old again! My five-year-old self was full of wonder and soaking it all in! And Groundhog Day gives me a day to remember what it felt like to be five years old. For the record, I did check on ol’ Punxsutawney Phil today. He saw his shadow, which means he predicts six more weeks of winter for us. I’m OK with that. Winter is short in the Carolinas. I need opportunities to wear my winter clothes and shoes!

And then, there’s the movie, Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell. It’s a silly movie, of course. The whole idea of reliving the same day over and over and over is preposterous! But there are days I would love to live over and over…especially if I could alter the course they take on each subsequent day till I got it perfect. Remember how Murray’s character starts each day with his alarm clock playing Sonny and Cher’s I Got You, Babe? That song is, of course, a favorite from my childhood, when I would spend one night a week watching The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour in front of our big, Zenith console TV in the family den. The duo ended every episode with that song, and sometimes, they would bring out their cute little girl, Chastity, to sing with them. But it’s not the song that makes the movie special. It’s just a way of letting the viewer know the same day is being replayed. It’s the whole concept that I love…keep doing it over and over till you get it right. I would have a hard time picking what day I would want to live over and over, if I could pick.

But for all the joy and good memories Groundhog Day brings me, I know there are people who have lost loved ones on this day…one family, in particular, who lost their 16-year-old daughter/sister eight years ago. I know it’s a heartbreaking day for them and many others out there. So every Groundhog Day, I say a little prayer for them. As much as these types of anniversaries can be difficult, sometimes they bring us peace, as they force us to remember the loved one.

Whatever Groundhog Day means to you, I hope you see some bluebirds of happiness instead of your shadow.

by Kelly Mattei

A Conversation

A conversation.

I checked my Facebook memories this morning, and found a memory from this day in 2015. It started with my post that said, “Hoping all my friends in the northeast are staying warm and are ready for the big storm! Wendy, what say you? Are you wishing you lived in Charlotte right now?” (My friend, Wendy, lived in Boston at the time.) And then, Wendy, to my surprise, responded! (She wasn’t always the best about responding, but I didn’t hold it against her!)

  • Wendy: Um, that would be a hell yes!
  • Me: Ahhh…you thawed out enough to comment, Wendy! As soon as I saw how bad it was going to be, I immediately thought of how much you would like to be here [Charlotte] right now! We miss you!
  • Wendy: And actually, I’ve been thinking about how much you would love to be here too! I keep telling our Charlotte snow stories and laughing in comparison. Thinking about how much our kids would’ve loved to enjoy the blizzard together…who would’ve thought I’d see a blizzard again in my lifetime…Miss you too Laverne!

Seeing that exchange made me so happy. I can’t wipe the smile off my face! Sadly, Wendy passed away 3 1/2 years ago after a 30-year battle with various cancers. I miss her, but that little Facebook exchange brought me some joy! I could almost hear her talking. I feel like it’s a transcript of a conversation! It’s different than finding a card from someone, which is one-sided. This is an actual exchange! And it’s a gift. I think of Wendy all the time, but she has really been on my mind for the past few days for some reason. I dreamed of her two nights ago. I wish I had written the dream down, because I can’t remember details of it. I just know that we were going somewhere together in the dream…and it went on and on. I even woke up wishing I’d stayed asleep, so I could keep visiting with her.

I’m sure we were calling each other Laverne and Shirley in my dream. I became Laverne after we took our kids to bike the Virginia Creeper Trail years ago. If you’re not familiar with it, the Virginia Creeper Trail is a 17-mile bike trail down a mountain. (For info on the Virginia Creeper Trail, click here.) The whole trip was a comedy of errors…to the point that we were convinced we were being featured on some sort of secret survival TV show. Early in the bike ride, Wendy had declared herself as Laverne. But after a mile or two on the trail, the chain came off her bike, and she didn’t know what to do. I stopped and said, “Get off the bike. I got this.” I put the chain back on the bike, and then I stood up, and while I wiped my hands, I looked at Wendy and asked, “Now…who’s Laverne?” She laughed and said, “You are!” I said, “Of course I am. Thanks, Shirley!” (Neither of us wanted to be the prudish Shirley from Laverne and Shirley. Everyone knows Laverne was the cool one.)

We both proved to be pretty tough that day, though. We had made a bad decision when we decided to ride the trail in February. It was still too early in the year; in fact, the bike shop owner said it was the first time he had taken anyone up the mountain that year. (There are bike rental shops at the bottom of the mountain that take you to the top with the bikes.) We should have known then. The chain coming off the bike was minor compared to what we endured later. Once we got a few miles down the mountain, out of cell phone coverage, we encountered snow…probably a mile of it. We weren’t dressed for snow. We had three kids with us… and bikes! We would carry the kids a few hundred yards ahead, and then one of us would go back and get the bikes while one of us stayed with the kids. We repeated that till we got to the end of the snow, but our clothes were soaked through and cold! Our kids’ were freezing, so Wendy and I took off our socks and put them on our kids. In fact, I feel pretty sure we gave them our jackets, hats, and gloves too….doubling their coverage…and leaving us with one layer of clothing. Fortunately, through the misery, we were able to laugh about it a few times, asking each other, “Where are the cameras?!?! There must be cameras filming this fiasco! Are we being Punk’d?!?!” (Punk’d was a TV show featuring Ashton Kutcher playing pranks on celebrities.) But there were no cameras. We did make it to the end of the trail safely, and we enjoyed some hot coffee and hot cocoa and some lunch at a restaurant nearby before making our way home to Charlotte.

I sure wish she were here to laugh over a hot cup of coffee now. I’d even be willing to ride the Virginia Creeper Trail in the snow again if she could come back to go with me.

by Kelly Mattei

Midnight Sledding

Midnight sledding.

It started snowing at our house in Charlotte, NC, yesterday at about 6pm. We were expecting a few flurries and nothing more. Even flurries are pretty to a girl from Alabama (me), so I enjoyed watching them from the warmth of our home, and eventually, I realized we were getting more snow than had been forecast.

Our daughter had a friend sleeping over, but they had gone to another friend’s house a few miles away in another friend’s car. At about 11:30pm, my daughter texted me, “Can you come pick us up?” I responded, “On our way.” My husband and I got into his Jeep, and once we were on the road, we realized how fortunate we are to have a Jeep with 4-wheel-drive, so even driving on slippery roads wasn’t difficult. (Don’t make fun, Northerners. The city did not prepare the roads in advance, it appeared. I’ve read about schools closing up north because it was too hot to go to school at 85 degrees. I went to school in 100 degree temperatures growing up on the Gulf Coast, and we didn’t have A/C in schools then…seriously.) We saw a few accidents along the way. One car had slid into the back of another. Another car had slid into a light pole. But fortunately, we were fine.

We delivered our daughter and her friend safely back to our house, and as soon as we got home, we all ran inside to put on snow gear, so we could go sledding! Yes, it was midnight, but that just made it more fun! After putting on warm clothes, coats, gloves, and hats for the snow, we all met in the garage and grabbed sleds. Fortunately, our daughter gets a new sled from Santa every Christmas, so we have a collection from which to choose! To purchase the fastest sleds we have, click here.

I’m sure our neighbors thought we were crazy, but we didn’t care. They might have even been disturbed by our laughter, but we didn’t care. I could hear one neighbor shoveling snow while we were sledding (yes, shoveling in the middle of the night), and I just felt sorry for him. He was missing out. We just wanted to have some fun, and we did!

My husband and I started the fun by taking a sled run down the big hill on our street. The snow wasn’t packed, so it wasn’t as fast as it usually is, but it was still fun…and funny. Then our daughter and her friend started sledding down another smaller, but steep, hill next to the lake. They laughed, and we laughed. Between sled runs, we threw snow balls and took photos. My husband was wearing a Santa hat for warmth, which made the pictures even more festive.

We had lots of fun. We laughed. We sledded. But mostly, we made midnight sledding memories. We don’t have snow every winter in Charlotte, but when we do, we try to take advantage of the opportunity. Over the years, we have made some great memories with great friends. In fact, a friend who now lives in Boston saw my new photos on Instagram and commented, “Brings back fun memories.” And that made me smile. So yes, we made more fun memories last night too. Our daughter is 18 (so hard to believe) and will be heading off to college in Alabama in August. She won’t be here in Charlotte during January and February anymore, so we likely won’t get to sled with her next winter. We were thrilled to have the opportunity to go midnight sledding last night.

And today, we’ll do a little more sledding. It’s going to melt pretty quickly, so we will have to take advantage of it early. We’ll make a couple of runs down the big hill before going over to the adjacent golf course. I won’t stay long…one or two quick passes down the hill…but we will make good memories. And we will laugh. Our daughter will likely stay a little longer, and then everything will melt, and we will go back to business as usual.

But years from now, if our daughter has her own child(ren), I hope she will tell stories about midnight sledding with us. Last night, she said of me and my husband, “Y’all are both just five years old at heart. Most parents are just getting old.” She probably doesn’t even remember saying it, but I remember it; I took it as a high compliment.

I hope it snows again soon, so we can go midnight sledding again!

by Kelly Mattei

Fish or Cut Bait?

Fish or Cut Bait?

Recently, I discovered that an organization I have been associated with for a number of years has changed its mission and its financial objectives. I can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but it seems small changes were made over time. Each change was so small that I didn’t really notice till it was glaring in my face. And not only is it glowing in my face, but the same organization suddenly asks for money way more often than they used to. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about supporting an organization that has a mission with which I agree. But when I no longer agree? What do I do? How do I know when to do it? What do I do when I no longer agree with how the money is being spent?

If you’ve never heard the phrase “fish or cut bait,” it’s a saying that means “proceed with an activity or disengage.” It can be used in business…maybe in sales, you have a customer who is taking up a lot of your time and energy in trying to make a sale, and that energy/time might be better spent elsewhere. You have to decide if you’re going to “fish or cut bait,” meaning you have to decide if you are going to continue to pursue the sale or walk away and look for other sales that might have faster, more positive results. In a personal context, if you’re dating someone, there might come a time in the relationship that you have to decide it you want to stick with the person long-term or walk away from the relationship. Kind of like “should I stay or should I go.”

And that’s how I feel about this organization. I’m trying to decide if it’s worth more investment of my time and money, or if I should just walk away, since I no longer agree with the way the administrators are running the show. It’s heartbreaking, because I believed in this cause wholeheartedly…till I didn’t. After all, there are lots of other organizations that I actually agree with, and they would love to receive my charitable donations. I know that any funds I’ve been funneling toward this organization would be welcomed at my college alma mater, my sorority, Pancreatic Cancer Action Network, or Ronald McDonald House…and I agree with their purposes, their missions, and their spending. But it’s not that easy. I’m personally invested with this particular group, and that’s what makes it difficult. It’s like a marriage almost…you become so invested…and if your spouse slowly changes his/her beliefs about everything you’ve ever agreed upon, how do you know if/when to file for divorce?

No, I’m not filing for divorce…don’t go starting that rumor.

Here is what I finally had to do to come to a decision: I had to sit down and make a list of the things that have changed. I had to sit down and make a list of things I continue to believe in about the organization after all these changes. And after doing that, I could see clearly that there is very little about this organization I agree with in 2022. Because of that, I have chosen to “cut bait.” My charitable dollars and my volunteer time will be redirected elsewhere. Will it make or break the organization? No. They will notice that I’m no longer volunteering for the cause, but they likely won’t even notice I’m no longer contributing money, and that’s OK. I will notice. I will know I am no longer contributing to an organization whose ideals do not align with my own. I will no longer contribute to an organization that, in my view, is no longer being a good steward of the dollars I contribute. I’m not going to start a battle. I’m not going to continue to “fish,” because when I have tried to express my views, they went unheard.

I won’t go out and say ugly things about the organization. I will let their actions speak for themselves. I won’t try to damage their reputation. What they are doing might even be popular; it’s just not popular with me.

And you know what? It feels good. It feels good to know I stand for something. As my daddy used to say, “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.” The quote doesn’t actually belong to him. Alexander Hamilton gets the credit for the origin of that saying. But it’s true. Even by simply changing the direction of my philanthropy, I’m standing up for something.

It’s likely we have all found ourselves affiliated with groups whose ideals we ultimately questioned. I know friends who have lost faith in their employers, their churches, their schools, and charities. Several years ago, our city’s largest charitable organization was involved in a spending scandal and lots of people stopped volunteering and contributing. It happens.

In this situation, I chose to “cut bait,” and it feels good to channel the support elsewhere…to organizations that have ideals in line with my own.

***When becoming involved with a non-profit, it’s a good idea to find out how much of the money you donate is going to administrative costs and how much is actually being used for the mission. Charity Watch is a good place to check. You can see their website here. At the website, enter the name of the nonprofit, and you will see their grade and how they spend.***

by Kelly Mattei

Lessons from Avocado Toast

Lessons from avocado toast.

We love avocado toast.

For the past few years, we have loved avocado toast at our house.

There are lots of different ways to make it. Some people add a fried egg on top. Some people like tomatoes. Others like to add onions, seeds, nuts, mushrooms, mayo, or cheese…or Sriracha sauce! All that sounds yummy, but that’s not how we make it.

A few years ago, we were dining at a favorite diner in the Los Angeles area, having our daily avocado toast for breakfast, and we finally had the bright idea to ask for their recipe. Surprisingly, they shared it without hesitation! And the rest is history. We have been using their recipe for the past few years. (See the recipe at the end of the post.) I say “we,” but just recently, I realized I have been the one making it. No one else in my house makes it. I do. My 18-year-old daughter eats it, but I make it.

I came to that realization when I walked into the kitchen one afternoon last week and found a mangled lemon on a plate. There were smears of avocado on a towel, and in the sink, I saw the remains of the avocado toast she had made for herself and some friends. I laughed, because it was at that moment that I realized I needed to teach her how to get juice from a lemon without mangling it.

So the next day, I asked her to come down and have some avocado toast with me, and when she got to the kitchen, I showed her how to juice a lemon. I showed her how to roll it on the cutting board to soften it, so it will release the juice more easily. And then I showed her where to cut it (or poke it with a skewer/ice pick) on the non-stem end to get the juice easily without the seeds. She thought I was a genius. I’m not. My mother had to show me how to do it years ago.

Fortunately, she knew how to do the rest of it. She knows how to cut an avocado, mash it, and spread it on the toasted sourdough bread (our bread of choice). She knows how to drizzle the olive oil and spread it evenly. She knows to use the coarse salt and add red pepper flakes (or crushed red pepper) to the top of the mashed avocado. She even knows not to touch her eyes after handling the red pepper flakes. And then…the lemon juice…the seedless lemon juice from a not-mangled lemon…she knows the perfect amount to add to enhance the flavor of her favorite avocado toast.

It was a bonding experience, for sure. It’s the little things like that she will remember forever. The next time she needs to get the juice from a lemon, she will remember exactly how to do it without mangling the lemon. And one day, when she has to show someone else how to do it, she will remember that I showed her how to do it. She will pay it forward…a lesson passed on.

But it has me wondering what other lessons I have forgotten to teach her along the way. She leaves for college in August. She’ll definitely need to know how to juice a lemon, but there are so many other things she needs to know, and I just pray I have remembered most of them. Thinking about it has been driving me crazy, so I’m actually compiling a list of little things I know I need to teach her and wisdom I need to impart on her before she leaves.

I’ll be sharing that list soon, but for now, I’ll just enjoy another serving of avocado toast.

***RECIPE FOR AVOCADO TOAST***

Ingredients: two freshly toasted sourdough bread slices, one avocado, olive oil, coarse salt, red pepper flakes (or crushed red pepper), one lemon or lemon juice.

Cut and mash the avocado before spreading it on the toasted sourdough bread. Drizzle with olive oil and spread the olive oil evenly. Sprinkle with coarse salt and red pepper flakes (or crushed red pepper) to taste. Drizzle lemon juice to taste. Enjoy!

by Kelly Mattei

Snow in the South!

Snow in the south!

I received a notification that snow might be in the forecast for Charlotte next weekend. And when I say “snow,” I don’t mean flurries like we’ve had a couple of times this winter. I mean real snow might be headed our way. Some folks speculate it’s just the dairy farmers putting out false info, because they know southerners will rush to the grocery store and buy milk and bread before the storm arrives. I choose to think…to hope, even…that it will happen.

If you grew up in the northern United States, snow is no big deal to you. In fact, it’s likely more of an annoyance to you. You don’t remember your first snow, because it was there every winter…year after year.

I remember my first snow.

The year was 1973, and I lived in Brewton, Alabama. I was five. Back then, we didn’t have 24-hour news. Kids didn’t have as much access to constant news, and in some ways, that was a good thing. We weren’t afraid of our shadows like so many people are today. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. And I went to bed February 8, 1973, completely unaware of the possibility of snow. I’m sure my parents watched the 10:00 news that night and likely had some idea of what was about to happen, but I knew nothing. I had never seen snow, and it would never have occurred to me that it would snow in Brewton.

On the morning of February 9, 1973, my mother came into my room and woke me up, telling me, “Get up and look out the window!” I had no idea why I was looking out the window….a new puppy? friends were visiting? what could it be? And much to my surprise, the ground was covered in glorious snow! I can still remember the excitement I felt. It was possibly the most excitement I had ever felt up to that point in my life!  We could hardly wait to get outside!

But here’s the real shocker: when all was said and done, we had about six inches of snow on the ground in Brewton, Alabama! If you don’t know, Brewton is located in southern Alabama, near the Florida line. Aside from that time, I don’t know that Brewton has ever had so much snow. Any amount of snow is rare there. That snowstorm came to be called The Great Southeastern Snowstorm of 1973! You can read about it here and here.

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A childhood friend, Cindy Finlay, in the snow in Brewton, Alabama, 1973

We didn’t own sleds. We didn’t own snow boots. We didn’t own winter gloves. We didn’t own those things, because we had never needed them! But that didn’t deter us. Fortunately, we did have winter coats, so underneath them, we layered on our warmest clothes and doubled up our socks before pulling on our sneakers. We pulled two socks onto each hand, and off we went…into the wild white yonder! Y’all, no one was ever more excited to see snow than I was on that February day!

It seems like we played all day. We built a snowman. We made snow angels. We threw snowballs at each other. We ran through the snow a lot. Our noses ran. Our faces stung. Our hands and feet hurt. But we had the best time ever.

When we realized our hands and feet were numb, we would go inside and take off our shoes and socks (the ones on our hands and feet) and place them in front of the space heater in the den, so they would warm up and dry. Mother would put some of the layers of clothing in the dryer, and after a cup of hot cocoa, we would pull on all those layers and those warm sneakers and go back out to play. At some point, one of us placed our sneakers a little too close to the space heater and melted the rubber sole of the shoes…an interesting odor.

I don’t have any pictures from that day, but I have pictures in my mind. Cameras weren’t everywhere like they are these days. It seems like we might have posed for a photo or two, and maybe one day, I’ll find photos in a box I brought back from Mother’s house. But for now, I can only imagine how comical we must have looked in those layers of clothes with socks on our hands. One thing I know for sure is that all the kids in our neighborhood (and the whole town) were thrilled! The Great Southeastern Snowstorm of 1973 created some great memories for us!

As an adult, I moved to Charlotte, but when I moved here at age 33, I had never gone sledding. The first winter I lived here, though, I finally got to go sledding with the neighborhood kids. And after our daughter was born, it snowed a lot the winter after she was born (2004), but we didn’t have another good snow for a few years.

When she was in 4-yr-old preschool, her teacher, Mrs. Sadow, told her that if she wanted it to snow, she needed to sleep with her pajamas inside out, put a spoon under her pillow, and flush ice cubes (or ice cream) down the toilet. We usually save those rituals for the night before snow is predicted to arrive, so if snow is in the forecast later in the week, you can bet your sweet bippy we will practice all those rituals the night before it’s supposed to arrive!

We are prepared for it now. Living in North Carolina, snow happens a little more often than it does in Brewton, Alabama, so we have snow boots, parkas, gloves, hats and most importantly, sleds!

Nobody loves a snow day like a southerner loves a snow day!