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a post.

I'm writing to you from the couch. It's a dark and rainy summer afternoon.  There are only two things I like about summer: crepe myrtles and thunderstorms, and I was lucky enough to experience both today.  A lot has been happening in my life recently, and I feel like I'm in a period of flux, of transition, and if you know me, you know I royally suck at transitions. I can prepare, I can meditate on it, I can make nearly-tangible plans. It doesn't matter. If things are changing around me, I feel like the mental depiction of a cat thrown into bath water.  A member of my family passed away as spring was turning into summer this year. A combination of factors keep me from being present, something that makes things feel unfinished.  Opportunities and ideas and creativity have been swirling around in our house this year. Unable to travel, we sit tethered to our home, and the ideas come, bringing with them excitement and hope and at times, overwhelm. My thoughts feel jumbled, a
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the sunday currently, volume 125.

reading a mish-mash of things right now. I don't usually like to read more than one book at a time, but I am in a reading rut... and I'm really just trying to get a little reading done here and there before I'm back in the swing of regularly reading. Selections currently include the following: Slightly South of Simple , by Kristy Woodson Harvey, Atomic Habits , by James Clear, Me , by Elton John, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone , by J.K. Rowling, and A Simplified Life , by Emily Ley. I know. That is a ridiculous amount of books to claim to be reading. I don't like it any more than you do. Like I said, I'm ready for the reading bug to bite me again.  writing futile to-do lists in my planner, in my head, and in my phone. Much like my current ridiculous reading list, my writing has been scattered, distracted, and frankly, ineffective. I need to get some organization and simplification going. I'm really just spinning my wheels at this point.  listen

more about music.

Tonight, I am working on continuing education for my upcoming license renewals, and along with chugging away with that, I am listening to music on Spotify. This is something I have been doing in the late evenings recently, after putting my younger child to bed and getting ready for bed myself (while Luke watches Captain Marvel with Justin), and I have to say, I quite like this little routine.  The truth is, I absolutely love music. I know in years past I have written about this on my blog, but  I'll say again that music transports me, transforms me. My favorite songs echo through time and remind me of former versions of myself, younger ones, inexperienced ones, carefree - yes - but with so much good, so much depth, to come (I now realize, obviously).  Tonight's melodic transportation came by way of "Why Am I the One," by fun. Those first few notes played, and I was instantly transported back to Gulf Shores, in a condo on the beach. September 2012. My bachelor

on making time to write.

I am currently drinking coffee and (accidentally) eating a couple pieces of the candy I bought yesterday for the Trick-or-Treaters tomorrow. Muffled light seeps into the kitchen from the laundry room - every other light is off downstairs. And even though I feel like I would rather be in bed snoozing during this (usually small) window of time when both of my children are asleep for nap time, I am writing. It's so easy to scroll Instagram in these moments, isn't it? To escape out of our own lives for a bit, to see what others are up to, to see what leggings and boots and coats our favorite "influencers" are pushing. To watch story after story after story. I get it, I really do. But I have to make a change. I used to have a lot of time to devote to reading and writing. It was one of the main things I did each day, and looking back on it now, I know that is because reading and writing bring me a joy that is life-enhancing. Give me a well-worn library book, give me t

from the floor of a bedroom, part two.

Good morning from Lake Norman.  Yesterday, Justin, the boys, & I went out for Saturday morning coffee. When it was time to return home, we decided to just keep driving, & this is where we ended up. It has afforded us an impromptu visit with family, as well as a respite from daily life in our own little bubble.  Life lately has consisted of adhering to nap times, drinking inordinate amounts of coffee, having hummus & crackers with my two-and-a-half-year-old, & trying to squeeze in some sleep here & there. We are currently making our way through the four month sleep regression. I phrase it in that way because I truly believe that this particular developmental milestone demands that you simply survive. Sure, I've read the books, I follow the sleep experts on Instagram (and watch their stories religiously)... but somehow, we are still met with a bit of a challenge in this department right now.  I won't sugar coat it - it's hard. And unfortunatel

travel diary: SHV to ATL.

I've always been an emotional person. As a nine year old, I recall watching The Secret Garden on repeat, crying at the end every time. I remember feeling overcome with emotion as I reflected on how far all of the characters had come, how much they all had grown. My parents always asked me, "Why do you watch that movie, if you know it makes you cry?"  Excellent question. But I didn't know the answer then, and I still don't really know the answer now.  Now, I am an overly-emotional pregnant person. Things like seeing my favorite Christmas decoration on display the day after Thanksgiving in my parents' home made me cry. So did multiple commercials that we viewed in between football games over the last few days.  It's always been a part of who I am, and I am guessing that it always will be. The one thing that makes it hard? I get embarrassed. Our society isn't one that really accepts emotional outbursts of any kind, especially in public. So, w


Of course this week lends itself to the making of mental lists of things for which we are thankful. My list this year contains all of the usual suspects, including family, health, and safe travels down to Louisiana to celebrate.  But this year, there's another item on my list. Something I have taken for granted in the past, though I always should have known better. It's something that has largely evaded me in recent months... well, years. It's something I've felt intermittently, sometimes unexpectedly, but haven't acted upon in quite a while.  What is it?  Inspiration. Simple, blessed, inspiration.  I feel it most often when I return to Shreveport, to the Ontario House. Something about this house leads me right into the arms of waiting words. Maybe it's the proximity to so many loved ones. Maybe it's all the work and labors of love that have gone into making this house our family home of so many years. Maybe it's the memories of sitting