Ritual

Friday night ritual: lots and lots of water. And candles. And an icy cold Manhattan if I can cajole IZ to make one for me while I’m soaking.

This has become my Friday night ritual. The water is just beginning to fill the tub in this photo, but trust me, I push the water line as far as I can. It’s this little indulgence that keeps me sane.

And NO, there’s not a picture of me in the tub on principle.That and because I’m super scared of dropping my camera in a tub full of sudsy water. In real life, IZ says I’m a total exhibitionist.

Really? What was your first clue? My ten year old personal blog?

Still, no nudie photos for y’all.

Do you have a ritual to help keep you sane?

Don’t Give Up

Via Ann Shen at Annplified

Rally Cry:

I’m serving notice to my soul. And to IZ’s. Because right now, we need to remember that giving up is not an option.

I haven’t been blogging because I’ve been crazy lady painting and getting out the last orders for Christmas from Mireio and dreading. Maybe it’s self-fullfilling prophecy, but I’ve been waiting for another shoe to drop and it finally did in the form of an email demanding more money. Much more money. Money we never heard about, never agreed to, wasn’t allotted by the insurance, and far beyond our means. Money we asked about over and over and were told, “Oh, no, we’re square.”

Which meant work stopped on our home. I have doors placed, but frames are missing. Wood floors laid, but no trim to hide the poor job done cutting. (I’m told that’s how all wood floors are done.) Lots of unpainted surfaces. Tons of trim just waiting to be cut with no means to do so.

We’ve been patient and forgiving. The marble floors that were marred. The 12″ scar in my brand new tub. The work-arounds, late starts, non starts, bad attitudes, garbage piled on my porch for weeks. (so bad, that a rat found one of the vats of left-over drywall mixture and drowned and then proceeded to rot.)

I’ll admit that I’ve lost my faith in anyone who wears a tool belt. And I’m heartbroken to see the state of my home. Which, should have been done with just enough time to bake a few cookies and decorate a tree. Restore some semblance of normalcy to our lives after 6 months of this state of chaos.

Instead, I’m sitting with that feeling. Beating despair back.

So, I’m serving notice to my soul. And to IZ’s as well. Don’t give up. We don’t know what the future holds. What the remedy will be or if there will even be one.

But giving up is not an option. Until it is. And then we will wait for grace.

The Best Wedding Ever

Our niece and her new husband cutting cake. How adorable is it, that their wedding cake is actually cupcakes!

Best. Wedding. Ever.

I’m pretty sure that was said a thousand times on Saturday. But it really was perfect. The weather was hot at 4 pm (hello 90’s!), but it cooled quickly after the ceremony to “balmy.” The wedding was held outside at the bride’s parent’s home. They had a huge white tent and gorgeous round tables covered in white cloths with purple accents. Melanie carried lavender roses and hydrangeas…so romantic. The party lasted late into the night—since it was mostly family and close friends.

For me, a great wedding isn’t about decor or flowers or food—though those things help, right? It’s about intention. It was clear that the bride and the groom spent months working on their vows and planning details that would make people feel comfortable. I’ve been to so many weddings where groups of people sat at their own “lunch table” never to mingle. Where it’s clear everyone feels more than a tad awkward? I didn’t make it around to every table, but it felt like people were mingling constantly—getting to know distant cousins or catching up with old friends and I don’t think I saw any wall-flowers hanging on the edges the whole night. It really was an amazing wedding!

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