Q: Hello, Ann! Tell us a little about who you are, what your perfect day would look like, and the major moves you've made.
A: Hi, I’m Ann Overturf! Tim & I have been married 44 years. A Navy chaplain for 30 years, Tim retired three years ago. After 22 moves, we are finally settling in and putting down serious roots! With eight children, four children-in-law, and eight grandchildren, I love that our family continues to grow.
The perfect day for me would begin by walking on the beach, a cup of hot coffee in hand, and it would continue at home enjoying a good book and dinner out.
During our first Navy tour, Tim was told we would remain on the East Coast for the duration of his career because our family of five was too large to move further. However, we have discovered God does what He wants, and we had the privilege of living on both coasts, in the Midwest, and overseas even as our family grew. We have lived various places in the Detroit area (college, seminary), Dallas,TX (continuing seminary); Chesapeake, VA; Jacksonville, FL; Okinawa, Japan; Chicago; Guam; San Diego; Bremerton, WA; coastal North Carolina, back to Guam, NC again, and now a suburb of Atlanta.
Q: Wow! That's amazing. So tell me, is the word “home” complicated for you--what does it mean to you?
A: Home is a lovely word! It’s that safe place where, when walking through the front door, you’re enveloped in love, acceptance, comfort, peace, joy, and fun.
Q: What are some practical ways you keep traditions alive and help you and your family stay connected to their roots?
A: As our children were growing up, we worked hard to create strong bonds between them. These days with kids living coast to coast, we have a family text thread which is a great place to stay in touch, share pictures, info, accomplishments, prayer needs, current events, and just have fun together. Sometimes I’ll throw out a random challenge or question, and the first one to answer correctly gets a $5 Starbucks gift card. It’s amazing how that simple gift card, or more likely the competitive nature of our kids, creates a flurry of responses!
As we moved around, it was often the little things that became traditions. Like the year we moved to Guam right before Christmas. We found ourselves in a hotel-type setting with a very small kitchen. It lacked what was needed to make a full Christmas dinner. I happened to stumble across a recipe I had tossed in my purse before we moved, something a friend had prepared for us during that busy time. It had been a hit with all of us, so that became our Christmas dinner. Because it called for red and green bell peppers, it looked Christmasy and turned what at first seemed like a major disappointment into a fun memory. The following year I was shocked when our kids requested the same dish over ham or turkey for Christmas dinner, and the year after, and for many years to come. It became a tradition!
As the Navy moved us from place to place, we bought an art print and a piece of furniture everywhere we lived. Our children can’t come home to the house where they spent their childhood, but there have always been pictures on the walls to remind them of all the wonderful places we lived and called home for a time.
While Tim was in Iraq for 13 months, I started writing a family cookbook. It took longer than expected, but eventually that became a Christmas gift for each of the kids. Almost every recipe describes a memory about that particular dish, and the cookbook reads a bit like a family history book.
Q: I love that idea! What do you think is an important character trait or skill for living in new places/a different culture?
A: Flexibility, patience, and a sense of adventure. Without it, you can miss out on so much.
Q: What would you say to those who feel out of place in a new area—what encouragement would you give them?
A: Be patient. Friendships are built over time. As we moved around, I learned it takes a year to year and a half for a place to feel like home. I also learned I don’t need a large group of friends, though I enjoy that. All I really need is one friend, a kindred spirit, and Tim always made it a practice to pray for that one friend every time we moved.
Ask the locals lots of questions, what they do for fun, what are their favorite restaurants. Learning about the local traditions and customs provides a better understanding of those you live around. Reach out to your neighbors if they don’t reach out to you. Knock on their door with a gift of your favorite cookies and visit for a few minutes. You’ll be surprised at the doors that open!
---Continued in a few weeks!
- Apr 19, 2021
This last year I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time watching Gilmore Girls. It was my first time watching the series all the way through, and just a nice breather and reminder of a simpler time. What I loved most was the witty and whimsical writing (honestly not going for alliteration there). To me, the whole point of Gilmore Girls isn’t just the girls, it's the town. As much as we enjoy the banter, shenanigans, and junk-eating movie marathons, it's Stars Hollow we love, right? There is something about that sense of being known, feeling safe, and snickering at the quirky people in your town whom you really do love.
Six things Gilmore Girls reminded me about community:
1. Sometimes people are weirdos, but what would life be without them? Perhaps it would be more tranquil, but it would also more boring. I mean, you can't watch Gilmore Girls without laughing at the quirks of Kirk. I feel like there should be a montage entitled "The Quirks of Kirk." Yes, I'd definitely watch that.
2. Having fun and making memories is your choice (whether it’s a movie night, a town meeting, or yet another festival or parade)—life is meant to be celebrated and enjoyed. Embracing and creating happiness and even the cheesiness of certain events and holidays will leave our lives more meaningful. COVID has stopped many festivals normally happening in our area, but we have found a few fun events and try to have movie nights at home (with a bit of junk food, I might add).
3. You can love your community and still role your eyes. Think of Luke’s character. I mean, I’m all about positivity, serendipities, and sunsets but honestly, nothing is better than a cute guy who is a little grouchy and yet loyal. He didn’t do a lot of fussy things, but he was always there and helping the community; he was consistently there for his friends. And he was always serving up coffee—which leads me to my next point...
4. Coffee and donuts (but mostly coffee) bring people together. Never underestimate the power of delicious drinks and maybe a treat to disarm hostilities and encourage conversation--something we need so much right now.
And for me, coffee is an elixer of life. As Lorelai said, “I can’t stop drinking the coffee. I stop drinking coffee, I stop doing the standing, and the walking, and the words-putting-into-sentences doing.”
5. Relationships can wring us out, and yet it’s important to avoid quickly writing off people as being toxic. In a world where pop psychology would tell us in sweeping broad strokes to dismiss people who bother us, it is possible to have boundaries but still love others and be there for them. I'm not speaking of true abuse situations here--more about people who annoy us or just feel like more work to be around.
6. Make your couch the best place to collapse. Life is especially challenging these days, and I'm trying to cultivate a home culture that is relaxing and fun. There is lots of teaching and training that goes on around here, but at the end of every day, the fact that we can collapse on our couch and enjoy a bit more time together is pretty great.
What I've noticed on social media the last few years, is that everyone seems to have so many things to say. So many tips, hacks, recipes. So many “Hey, guys! Let me tell you what you should care about.” For success, for happiness. There are glossy, beautiful photos showing the "expert" on her expensive couch with a view overlooking the ocean. Clearly she has it all; clearly we should listen up.
There is a lot to learn online, but it's not community in its truest form, it's just not. It's a fabulous place to gather and exchange ideas, but it's not the place for your soul to rest.
I’d much rather meet you for a cup of coffee at Luke’s and talk about life and beliefs. Since, for multiple reasons, we can’t actually do that, let’s look at the people next door, the people right in front of us. Let’s not forget the sweet little things of community living (even during this time) that make life rich. It can take years to get to that comfortable spot, but it doesn’t have to take years for at least some level of connection and care.
Perhaps it means going to the same coffee shop, to the same church, to the same park. I absolutely love exploring, but routinely visiting certain places helps us to bump into the same folks. Commit to your community, and just maybe it will start to feel a little more like the Stars Hollow we know and love.
- Apr 13, 2021
Dirty feet, morning mist on the lake, and hoodies with the aroma of campfire smoke—these are a few of my favorite things. Okay, okay, I don’t really like the gritty feeling of dirt-meets-sand on my feet, but I like the reason they’re dirty! Several weeks before we moved to England, we were able to go camping on family property in Michigan, and it was balm to my soul. I wanted to stay forever. The congestion of the Charleston area was getting to me—especially during months of being told to stay at home.
Growing up in rural Indiana, I took expansive land for granted, having a field next to all *six* of my childhood homes. I now see I wasn’t “landlocked”—I was land free. My college years were spent in the soft-spoken mountains of southeastern Tennessee, rolling hills of eery whispers and entrancing folklore, maybe true.
During my time there, I read story after story of human love, angst, and despair. Pivotal lessons on life and the hardest parts of love were yet to come. They were to come in the lush colors and humidity of Guam, the unassuming beauty of Indiana’s autumn, and the outskirts of Charleston, pretty but smug, and smelling a strange mix of magnolias and the paper mill.
Natural surroundings play a part in our lives—they are more than the backdrop. They are a contending character in our story.
Since college I’ve mostly lived in congested places— a small island and then crowded towns near Charleston, South Carolina. For the price of a drive, there was the ocean! In South Carolina, interstates and tight parking often kept me from havens of nature.
It seems I really do want that piece (peace) of land, as Wendell Berry writes:
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
~The Peace of the Wild Things
While I cannot rest with the wood drake forever, I will reach for, notice, and rest in the moments I can. It’s frustrating when Dollar Generals are easier to find that the solitude of nature, but we will enjoy the little bits we can find.
Even in a small backyard, it can be found. Listen for the rustling leaves, gently touch the pinecones, smell the flowers, crane your neck for the wisps of sunset, purple, orange, and pink. Slipping out the door to check the mail and take a dirty diaper to the trash bin, the wind lifts my hair and touches my face. It can be jolting, this grace. Barefoot I walk through the poking crab grass, my feet curving around the hard lumps of earth. With each step, I am a bit freer than the one before. With each step, I feel a bit more at home.
