Day story

July 2019

Outside my window, construction continues on the neighbor's house. It's Friday and summer and I went to Wegmans today and bought sunflowers. Friday vibes all around. The smell of sunscreen passing by other shoppers. The gorgeous sky and the white clouds. I want to hold time. I want to slow summer. I want to slow this day. (Oh, if I could time travel, a memory appeared on my Facebook from ten years ago, and I would go back to that day and kiss Erin's chubby cheeks and swing Lanie high in the air and lay in the field and watch the clouds pass by with my kids by my side, and hold them close, close, close.)

Giving thanks for timely messages, good friends, a good deal and a new(er) car. For radio stations and rides with kids and a sunroof on sunny days. For yoga and savasana's easy slipping away--how I wished it lasted longer. For humid days and early runs and friends at the table and friends in the yard. For grass to cut and weeds to pull and the picnic table on the patio that stares back empty. For new views. For new opportunities.

In the school room, I try to clear the table and it fills back up. Lanie is schooling through math to prepare for class that starts in August. I can't believe I'll be teaching at co-op again.

From the kitchen, menus planned and groceries purchased. Flowers in a pitcher. A citrus recipe for a summery drink. Snacks for picnics. And Yasso bars in new flavors.

I am heavy in thought. I am undone by God's goodness to us. I am heavy with emotion. I just want to close my eyes. 


I am reading a book still on Scandinavia and books on Switzerland. I just finished a book that would have benefited me in my twenties. Tools for a toolbox.

I am hearing podcasts, timely. And hymns and other piano pieces. She plays two hours or more a day.

Around the house, tidying for a weekend with my people. (It's Friday and I still miss Linda.)

A view of my favorite things:

friends at the table

dinner out with my man

relief!

ribbons on sticks

July mummers

 

I aged him!

Oh if I knew I could have had that hair in my 20s.

I made us younger. But we didn't really look like that.

Getting ready for her job interview!

Thanks, old girl

At the table, set for four. In my heart, I hold a place for her.

Take 2

Mochito was a heartbreaker (so much so I even took down the post about her). We sent her away. She was lovely and luxurious and held such promise, but a check below the surface told a different tale, which promised heartache and nagging and cost. I watched the company load her up on their truck to take her away and thought of her as Mochi-ter. Broke my heart.

With my former Scandinavian faithful now gone, we rented a car for a few days and test drove seven cars. We went to six different dealerships. With a half heart, I settled upon one car after a Saturday perfect prize was snagged before we could buy it up. But before we "pulled the trigger" as the cheesy sales guy said, we decided to take a last look at a different dealership an hour away.

I was instantly smitten. This car was so new to their group, they hadn't even photographed it yet. I loved it more so than I had the one on Saturday. This girl spoke to my heart. She told me she'd take good care of me. She held me close. The test drive was stellar. The experience all around, a gift. A true gift. Down to the mug and the key chain they sent along at parting.

I drove her home in the sunshine. She was familiar and yet new to me. I thanked God from the moment I saw her, to dinner out with my man, to the sun-setting, delightful drive home. Today's journey took us eight hours total.

"What did you name it? Is it Trixie?" Erin asked.

"I named her Siggi," I told the girls. Because all I had was a yogurt for lunch, and it was Icelandic skyr style vanilla, thick and creamy and made me think of this diamond pearl girl. The yogurt was Siggi's, and also the name of a memorable character from Vikings. And my Viking heritage has yet to let me down (unlike my American line). In fact, at times, it's what's kept me going.

Welcome home, sweet Siggi.

Went out to dinner to ride out rush hour. We went to a place we always take the kids, except we didn't have kids with us this time. lol

Bringing my girl home to join our girl gang.

We are so excited and relieved!

Seriously. Relieved. What a gift.

Victory.

***

"Good thing they gave you two key fobs," Shane said. (Because I lose them.)

"This car should last me the next eleven years," I remarked, like my last one did.

"And by then you'll be so old, we'll take away your keys. Actually, you'll probably lose them by then, so we won't have to take them away."

Ha. Ha.

Left. Right.

Left:

She did too much (and never enough).
She cried too much (and never enough).
She carried too much and ate too much and hurt too much.
Her mantra was always, "How do I make this work?" And she'd say it like it was a credit to her, when it really wasn't (but she didn't know). Everything was on the verge of falling apart--health, home, happiness.

Right:

She focused on less (and found more).
She focused on laughter (and laughed more).
She learned to let go and let up and heal.
Her mantra became, "You already are a Viking." (You already have all you need. You already are level ten.) And suddenly life began to fall into place as she learned what to let go of and Who to cling to.

Progress not perfection. There are hard days. I can get scrambled by the unexpected. But the days are better than they were, and I am better off than I was.

Healthy.
Loved.
Free.

Crackers and limes

July focus is level ten--stepping into what I already have. Yesterday, a morning sweat walk with a friend, a yoga class, and hosting a lunch here with a friend from my high school days. We touch base infrequently, but it truly is like time stands still for us. She was here four hours, and it hardly seemed like a minute. I can tell her things and she knows, and she can tell me things, and I know because we share such a long stretch of story. Unhurried. Authentic.

She glanced at a text from her sister who requested crackers and limes for their family gathering (today). And I don't know why I find it amusing and real and so full of life. I've been practicing juggling this morning, chanting "Crackers and limes."

Today I made iced tea and a simple sugar syrup. Broccoli salad and potato salad. Later, thick burgers on the grill. I took a yoga class this morning and wrote on 66 Books. A holiday in the middle of the week throws all balance and perspective off. Even the dogs thought today was Sabone Day (Saturday bone day) because Shane was home. So he gave the dogs bones.

I think we will swim. And eat frozen yogurt bars. And drink sweet tea. Maybe even bonfire.

I will practice recorder and read from several books and maybe even pull some weeds.

I'm thankful for a few days home with my man. Thankful for big blue and bigger splashes. Thankful for these crazy dogs. Thankful for friends, accepting them for who they are and lifting expectations off their shoulders. Oh, freedom for all.

Free to be. All of us.