Favorite Things- 1

I have A LOT of favorite things. Most days I label approximately 74 things my “most favorite thing” or the “best thing ever”. Lately, my most favorite things have been:

1. Running over this breathtaking quote written in chalk on the sidewalk:

“If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete”

I’ll tell you what! Sometimes that Buddha knows what he is talking about!

2. The sunshine is back! I think we are going on a week of straight sunshine and it is truly amazing the difference it has made in my disposition.


3. This being the very first thing I see when I open my eyes. Literally the very first thing. I didn’t even have to move my head from the pillow.


4. These takeaways from my reading lately:

  • Is this useful? It’s okay to worry, plot, and plan (thank you very much, I am going to do it anyway) —but only until it’s not useful anymore.
  • All we can do is everything we can do.
  • A relationship is like a shark, it has to constantly move forward or it dies.

5. And most importantly my new boyfriend, Mr. Ernest Hemingway. He is a little moody, dark, and sometimes rude but he writes and says the most achingly beautiful and hilarious things. I don’t know how I have gone so long without reading and loving his writing.


The Year of Three Homes

This year I have had three homes. The first I moved out of during an extremely difficult and hard time. I had lived in that house for over two years. The second home was my little cottage on Glen Lake Road. I moved into my very dated and halfway functioning refuge in the middle of January and I spent nine months there until I left to move to Chattanooga.

My Glen Lake house was exactly what I needed. The house had horrible plaid wallpaper in the bathroom, the majority of the outlets didn’t work, and you could actually see light shining through the bricks by the fireplace. But it also had the most perfect porch where I would read and drink my coffee or wine. It had a great yard where Cricket could chase the squirrels and bunnies. It was quiet, safe, and it had amazing sunrises over the lake that I watched from my kitchen window. It came with built-in best friends across the street that I could run over and see or who could come over when I was scared. For nine months I putted around my house and my yard normally wearing my running shorts and my cowboy boots.

Deep parts of my heart and soul were healed in that house. During a time when everything I had ever known was questioned, uprooted, and taken away God gave me a little sanctuary. He gave me a place to heal. A place where He could love me even in the small details of my life, like sending me a part-time very pregnant roommate or Tucker the wandering neighborhood dog. A place where He could show me that I still mattered and that He hadn’t forgotten about me.  It is not often that I feel like a passage of Scripture completely encompasses one of my experiences but my time on Glen Lake Road was truly Hosea 2:14 “Therefore, behold, I will allure her, bring her into the wilderness and speak kindly to her”.



But then as much as I fought it my time in the sanctuary was up. It was time to keep moving. I hated it. I wanted to stay there. I was mad that I hadn’t gotten to experience a Fall in my cottage. I was mad that I had just gotten it set up the way that I liked it. I was mad that fire season had just rolled back around and I was going to miss it. But no matter how mad I got or how much I fought against it, it was time to leave my sanctuary. So two months ago today I packed and purged my things and I moved to my coffee loft. Most days it is okay but to say I miss my Glen Lake life is an understatement. However, I believe that just like the Lord provided everything that I needed during the hardest and scariest time of my life He will continue to do that here. Most days I wake up and remind myself that me moving to Chattanooga didn’t take God out of the details business.  That’s the good thing about God’s business–it’s everywhere! So today I am thankful that I was given a place set aside solely to start healing my broken heart and I am thankful for the post I will write six months from now about how He used the coffee loft in some other area of my life.

Observations on moving:

  • It sucks. Always. Moving is the absolute worst.
  • Seeing my things in boxes makes me emotional.
  • I have way too many cups, mugs, and glasses. I am definitely not short on drinking vessels.
  • I have some really good men in my life that always come through with the muscle and tools. Some of which have moved me twice this year. That is a lot of boxes being moved and pictures being hung.
  • Cricket is more resilient than I give her credit for.
  • I am more resilient than I give myself credit for.
  • Try to not to decorate for a particular space instead only buy things that you will always love no matter where you are.
  • Internet takes forever to get installed so don’t wait until the last minute to call.
  • It is unbelievably expensive.
  • The kitchen is the worst room in the house to pack.
  • It is worth it to buy one of those fancy tape dispenser things.
  • Having a dishwasher is not overrated.
  • Hire movers.

The First One

How exactly does one start a blog? Especially a blog that you don’t even know what it is about. I am not an expert in anything . I do not have adorable babies to write about, I am not traveling the world, and you will never find me explaining to someone how to clean, cook,  or craft (my philosophy when it comes to most things domestic is—outsource, outsource, outsource). I feel like those are the main reasons that someone my age begins to blog. All great reasons—just not mine. Good for you, not for me! Mine are…

  • Blogs are pretty and I am jelly that everyone has one but me.
  • I like to write and I do it a lot anyway. Most of my journal-ing needs to never be seen by anyone—most of the time I read it and think “seriously, does that crazy person really live inside of me?”. The goal is to find some semi-appropriate portions…polish off the insanity and post those.
  • I have had quite the year. More on that later (maybe).
  • I love stories. I love reading them, I love telling them, and I love hearing people tell their’s. I always have. When I was little I would lay in bed and beg my Mom to read me just one more story before I went to sleep. Unlike most kids I didn’t do this to prolong my bedtime I was truly just hooked. I am a social butterfly and a bookworm. When I was young I would love to come home and tell the stories of what happened during the day. I would always make quite a show of it, taking the appropriate dramatic pauses, really building the story-line and characters, and always offering comic relief. I was even known for sometimes adding details (lying) that didn’t particularly happen not to be deceitful but to make the story even better. As an adult we call that being dramatic or an exaggerator and everyone is cool with it. I loved to entertain and engage an audience. To do this day I can’t get enough of written or spoken word. Fiction or non-fiction, I am there. Self-help, even better. Local and national news, yes please. A made up scenario about Cricket and I going to moon, perfect. Stories fill that social butterfly hole in my heart for connection while also filling the bookworm hole for self-reflection, imagination and intellect.

A couple of blog disclaimers…

  • I have started a blog about 19 times. We will see if this one sticks.
  • There will be roughly a thousand pictures of my puppy, Cricket. She is my BFF and quite possibly the greatest animal ever created.
  • Grammar ain’t my thang. I use commas like they are going out of style. I don’t plan on worrying about it and commas will be sprinkled throughout my posts like confetti. I like commas…they remind my brain that is constantly going one thousand miles a second to breathe. If poor grammar and less than scholarly sentence structure offends you then you need to just keep moving through cyberspace. It’s not that I don’t care about grammar, I just don’t understand how it works and since I am now an adult I have opted to remain oblivious to your fancy writing. I will type the way I talk. If you have kids or you are a teacher you could print my posts out and give them to your kids to correct for homework. See? Everyone wins!

So in summary….I don’t know what my blog is actually about, the grammar will be atrocious, and there will be a lot of dog pictures. Excited? Me too.


Surprise! You really didn’t think I would end my very first blog post without a little puppy spam, did you?