Allow me to explain the title of my blog. I love to write, in fact I sometimes wonder at the fact that I chose Spanish over English as my major. The weaving of English words exhilirates me. Both the study and the practice of writing could easily occupy hours of my day. Nonetheless, I inherited a distracted method of housekeeping from my mother. When we see something that needs doing, it is hard to walk by it. Therefore, "piddling" occupies much of my free time. I piddle from Pottery Barn.com to Pottery Barn Kids.com to OH!! Williams-Sonomahaven'tbeenthereinawhile. I piddle from unloading the dishwasher to cleaning the counters to scrubbing that goshdarn spot on the floor to OH! Ihaven'tvaccumedinaweek. I piddle catching up on emails to addressing thank you notes to OH!! canibuystampsonlinelet'slookthatup. You get the picture. The same way you felt reading those run-on words is the way I feel at the end of my kids' naptime many days, "What did I just do?"
When I sit down with the computer and commit to staring at that white screen as rapid-fire black print begins to fill it up like grass clippings shooting out from the mower and peppering the lawn I have to put the piddle-ables in life aside. It takes more tenacity than I am often willing to exhibit. Like many things in life, reluctant tenacity begets beautiful results and I always feel crisper, like walking through orange leaves on a Fall day, when I am finished writing. For this reason I owe all of you persistent readers a debt of gratitude for asking this of me, this that I love.
There has been so much to inspire me this Summer. A baby growing with always new chubby rolls, a house beginning to sigh and settle into its new identity as our home, a new church literally bursting with vitality: these are just the window trappings of a Summer I will not soon forget.
A story much better told by Clint himself, we nearly lost dear friends in a car wreck two weeks ago. I know that death is a reality always but it felt bold, as if it were a flashing sign in Times Square or written in red letters. August fourteenth, also my parents' twenty-ninth wedding anniversary, will take a long time to fade.
While seeing our friends recover from this near-tragedy was the low point, (though probably a high point in terms of seeing Jesus at work), there has been a lot of joy in our summer. As you saw in a recent post, Josh and I took the kids to Myrtle Beach back in June. A first for our family, it was hugely rewarding to go on our first real "vacation" adventure together. Complete with a trip to Urgent Care and a pneumonia scare, I would say we toughed it out and came out on top. We also spent a long weekend in sunny Fort Myers with my folks and REALLY relaxed. Golf, poolside, outlet shopping, homecooked (not by me) dinners all coalesced perfectly to energize us before we headed back to our new home for more unpacking, organizing, and settling in.
One of the sweetest things about this Summer has been seeing our friends in different contexts. The Jonkers visited us here in Greensboro for the first time since they've had children, and seeing their kids together with the Adams', Dukes, and Disneys was priceless. Friends that stick are gifts. Friends that stick and are willing to enter your world and try your life on for size, even for just a moment, are miracles.
This past weekend we left Jonathan with Marmee and Dedad and headed to Chapel Hill for the night with the Brian and Emily Disney. I'd dare say we did Franklin Street justice. When we headed out to walk around campus in a perfect summer evening breeze, the rain began to crescendo. We ducked into a bakery and bought some cupcakes. Eating that cupcake in the rain with one of my dearest friends was blissful. The night didn't end with wet baked goods however. We had scrumptious Italian in a small restaurant covered in ivy and set among old brick buildings, laughed hard with a new friend, conquered competition at the foosball table, and I personally finished the night with a chocolate martini and pizza Pokey Stix. All in all it was solid good fun.
Not every day can be July Fourth. We have had a grand fireworks show called "Life as we know it" this summer and I think now we will start to settle down. After all of these adventures I am ready to sink into a big chair with a good book and enjoy the regularity of things. Although, it may look more like being tackled on a big couch by two little rascals and Where the Wild Things Are. I'll take it.
