Catching up

I have all these things that I intend(ed) to write down on the blog but we've been settling in, napping together during lunch breaks, canyoneering, sewing and visiting Costco.

But, I'll fill you in on all that in some catch up posts to come.

Easter

These were supposed to look like bunnies...

we like cats better anyways :)

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On a different note, we had a wonderful time with the little bit of family we have around eating dinner and laughing. It was a beautiful day. 

We celebrated by reading the first chapter of our brand new copy of Jesus the Christ and standing outside talking to our neighbors for way too long because noone wanted to leave this beautiful spring sunshine Rexburg has been throwing our way.

Days to be lost

Tomorrow is a big day for us.

But I keep thinking about today, and how a year from now...it won't exist.

Stuck in somewhere between a time stamped Sunday and heavy Tuesday, this day will very likely be one I'd let slip from memory. 

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Even though we both woke up early and tried our best to convince the other to stay in bed. 

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Even though I had a small opportunity to serve. 

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Even though I laughed as Russ had a whole monologue about how he could tell the difference in a blind taste test between generic and name brand mac and cheese.

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I wonder where I let all these days go...
The days in between.

And, I wonder if I need to slow down or if I just need to pay more attention to the dates and times that make up the space between the few moments I remember.

El Capitan

 

As part of my 26 goals for this year (...which some need to be amended, woops). I bit the bullet and made 20 of these bad boys (20! Yikes). 

Posted them online last night and found one sold this morning! 

WooT!

9 more me-made items to go and I've reached my goal for the year :). 

(You can check them out to the left!)

Interpretation

I'm a little obsessed with installations. 

Captivated by the organized chaos.

A collection of things that are all different even though they are all the same. 

Paper clips, tea saucers, glasses. 

All spaced out perfectly. 

I wonder what that says about me. 

Getting back into the swing of it...

I'm so excited to be back at school (for my last semester!) (For reals this time!) and getting back into the routine...

Which is kind of routine-less. 

I love working at the costume shop where days are mixed with calm and chaos, I love seeing a whole show come together and I love seeing all the bits and pieces manifest themselves in motion on stage. 

If I could have just worked at the shop for the whole time I was in school instead of getting my degree, I'd have done it in a heart beat. 

is that bad?

Oh well, here's to sewing! 

...and school

More to do's: Sofa

The Look:

$25 Craigslist find:

I wanted a more geometric shape, so I was excited to find this for such a good deal...

and it'll be ugly fun in the mean time. 

I'm a little worried about the challenge of finding a clean enough herringbone print to really bring in a geometric print. 

The honey-do List: for me!

Russ and I are so, so very excited to move into our new place in Rexburg and to finish up at school! 

I've been bargain shopping for furniture for our new place (first place we'll be in where we aren't borrowing furniture or it doesn't come pre-furnished.)

SO! I've taken it upon myself to thrift the snot out of the state of Idaho to get exactly what I want at a reasonable, or phenomenal price. I'll post a list of my finds and projects to come. 

The look I want:

What I found:

$25 and an hour an Craigslist found us these three diamonds in the rough:

The're a bit dirty, but are sturdy and the perfect shape, I'm super excited about this find!

This is 25: Letting go of expectations.

This morning I found myself standing alone, dressed in a hospital gown in a dimly lit room and couldn't help but think

...

This isn't mine.

....

I knew if I breathed in too deeply, I might cry. 

Not because I was nervous.

Not because Russell couldn't come in with me.

Not because I was afraid of what I might find out.

But, because it wasn't mine.

...

Not my life.

Not my plan.

Not my 26th year.

Not mine.

...

I slipped on my shoes and looked down at my feet, past the gown and down to the fiesta colored slippers Russ bought me for our anniversary....

Mine.

...

I've spent so much time running away from accepting the fact that I have over 4 years of heartache trying to get pregnant as part of my life. It is mine. Better or worse, it is part of who I am and who I will become. It is something that defines a part of me... and is a near constant struggle to not let consume me.

Most days I know that I am more than this, but some days I can't help but question if I am less. Some days, even just some hours, it feels too close...too thorough and too concrete to ever change, and I feel so completely overwhelmed that it is mine.

Even though its not the small house with a big yard with the children so seemingly perfect, that I could just kiss their tiny fingers and toes. 

...

Even though it isn't those things...it is a husband who splits an ice cream with me after I cry about it sometimes feeling like it'll never change and the way it is, is just too much. It is the way he kisses me softly and, if even for that brief turning moment between crumbling down and realizing I can stand back up, it is knowing completely and fully that everything is going to be okay.

It, this life, this experience, this heartache, this love... is mine. 

This is my 25, its not at all what I had expected, not exactly what I had thought I wanted.

It is hard.

It is beautiful.

It is mine.

Thank you for your time...

I work in a call center where I talk to dozens of people every day from around the world. 

Some are quick and to the point, while others will relate unsolicited life events like going to Knotsberry Farms...on horseback, riding behind their mother, back in the day when the only rides were tied up to hitching posts upon arrival. 

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I spoke with a man who was helping his son, who was in a high security prison, order a pair of warm shoes; because his son's cell was so cold. I could hear in the way he worded each sentence and chose each word about his son, that he loved him, not excusing, but; despite anything he had done. 

The pair of shoes he was purchasing were the same pair I had had my eye on for my own father, whom I share an ongoing game with of finding the best slippers for his Christmas present every year. 

As I spoke of what I knew of these shoes with this man, whom I have never met and more than likely never will; I was continually touched by the sincerity he had towards his son and the outright responsibility he held for himself to keep his son's feet warm, if nothing else.

At the end of our conversation, I assured him of a confirmation email being sent and ran through the same scripts I run through dozens of times every day. 

"And, is there anything else I can help you with?" I closed. 

What he said next, took me by surprise.

"Thank you. Thank you for your help. Thank you for your kindness and thank you so much for your time."

He went on:

"I know I don't know you, but you seem decent and you seem kind. And I really need you to know how much I appreciate that."

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Ever since this brief conversation, I can't help but roll the words around in my head.

"Thank you for your help"

"Thank you for your kindness."

"Thank you for your time"

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What an amazing opportunity we have to share something so quantifiable; the best of us having 100 years, yet; so infinite.

I can't help but think about my family and friends and the moments they choose to spend with me. Serving me, laughing with me, sharing hopes and dreams-- pieces of themselves -- with me.

Dear, dear loved ones:

Thank you for your time.