summer 2013

Since I have been an uninspired blog-keeper this summer, a general update.

This summer has been one of transition. To a new house. To a more-official floral design position. To parenting a new pup. To much-needed involvement. To a hint of normalcy.

This normalcy looks like full calendars - a personal [possibly unhealthy] love of mine. So full that is calls for mini family meetings and plenty of time spent plugging in reminders and appointments and events into the calendar. I know that this is a very normal thing in the life of the average American [and beyond]. But for the last twelve months, our weeks have been the bare minimum. When you are a new member of a church or a business or a community, involvement is limited. Read: people-time is limited. This summer I am beyond thankful for the Lord providing us with busy days filled with events that need florals, church ministry responsibilities, dinner with new friends, family that needs celebrating.

This time last year, I was going to the grocery store because it was my only source of human interaction while D was at work. I know now that that was a season with purpose. But these days I wouldn't be surprised if I saw someone I knew in the Piggly Wiggly or Publix or (dreaded) WalMart. A wonderful, welcomed change even if I'm in need of a good hair-washing.

Summer 2013 began with our move to the new house. Things are shaping up, and there may possibly be some pictures soon since I'm learning to rangle the shedding dog and mulching area rug with this and this.

Less than a week later, we headed south for Anna's [who is absolutely "the apple of our eye"] first birthday party. It was all hands on deck for decorations and favors and food. At one point, D was slicing apples and cutting tiny little hearts out of their centers for apple and peanut butter sandwiches. We're rocking his all-boy-family world one birthday party at a time.

June, and then again in August, was peak wedding season bringing plenty of design and learning time. I did my first solo wedding and had the opportunity to assist Sarah with several more beautiful events. We ended the summer with bang: a two-wedding weekend with five venues in two days. I can honestly say that I've never been more exhausted in my entire life. Granted I've never run a marathon or given birth or, you know, climbed Mt. Everest. But I was worn slap out, y'all. And thanks to a poorly-chosen maxi dress, I was shuffling my chaffed self in on my extremely sore feet. Here's to adrenaline and pure creative satisfaction for carrying us through.

A trip to Ruston brought wonderful time with family, a bittersweet cleaning-out of Mamaw Mc's house, fresh Ruston peaches, and a tearful meeting of my best friend's baby boy. The pace at which our lives are moving is overwhelming at times.

We lost D's grandmother midsummer. It was the most sudden of any of our grandparents. And it's still hard to think that she won't be there when we visit this weekend. We had, as always, a lot of sweet family time through that heartache.

August began with a trip to Florida to spend some time with my dearest Ashley before her big move to the Middle East. It was perfectly timed, perfectly planned by a God who cares about details and emotions and friendships. We spent some time on the sand, around the table, at the outlet malls, and [most importantly] in our pajamas. We talked about memories and what life will be like after the move, what is most saddening and most exciting. An unexpected but completely perfect project was taking Ash's pictures and laying out her prayer magnet. Isn't she a beauty? We completely failed in our "no tears, just say 'see you later'" plan. So we cried and hugged and cried some more. And since then, we're thankful for international texting apps and email and prayer.

To wrap up a summer full of busy weekends was Audrey's SIXTH birthday. She's SIX. Impossible. We had a tea party with enough flowers for a small wedding ceremony. That evening, the entire fam went to the birthday girl's restaurant of choice - Chick-fil-A - where it's not difficult to get a table for thirteen on Saturday nights.

Today we are headed south for the wedding of one of D's groomsmen. This weekend will usher in [in my mind] an official beginning to fall bringing with it pumpkin-flavored purchases and LSU football. Here's to looking forward to sweaters and mums and Christmas trees and filled calendars.

on 2x4s and community and anticipation

These days one of us makes a daily builder-hovering trip to the house site. Some days it ends with pure excitement, some days with an email to the builder explaining that that cable jack is in the absolutely wrong place. But when I walk our dust-covered floors, turning in circles trying to figure out what furniture will go where and what we'll need to fill in the holes, I don't picture the house photo-ready, but [hopefully] filled with people to share life with.

After almost a year of several unknowns, it's as if we've come to the top of the hill and can begin to see what is ahead. Or at least anticipate it - we've definitely learned that you never know what the Lord has planned. This season has been a beautifully trying one that has strengthened our marriage and taught us a lot about our little plans compared to God's big picture and how He's intricately aware of both. After these months, I'm happy to see its end only because it is replaced with the start of a new community in Lexington, South Carolina. And since we know this new house and community is a blessing of a gift from the Lord, we found it fitting to record those sentiments on our [pre-Sheetrock] walls.

[Got ahead of myself and left out a couple words of this important verse. Full text here.]

[This one appropriately went above the dishwasher.]

I guess you could say that I have high hopes for this first home of ours. That it would be a place where friends will feel comfortable, where stories will be told, where those soul-binding similarities are discovered. I hope it can be a spot for dinner parties and Sunday school get-togethers and DNow weekends and baby showers. I want it to be a place where parents and siblings and [one day] cousins and out-of-town friends will fill all the available sleep spots. Where friends know they can pour themselves a glass of tea without asking. Where people can be recharged over coffee and dessert. Where successes can be celebrated and burdens be carried.

We are thankful for new beginnings [even if we didn't choose them] and for the buds of friendships that we hope and anticipate to bloom into more vibrant ones. Until they discover how weird we are. Mostly kidding.

And I hope that some of that blossoming happens around our supper table.