hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week
Thirteen years ago yesterday, I had a first date with a man. He taught me how to rock climb in East Rosebud on a 5.8 pitch. This means this never-before climber was shaking in her pants up on a rock while the hot guy she had a crush on was under her, his only view her ass. I made it up that rock right quick. And then we made out like 19 year-olds.
and digging and planting as I converted our weedy boulevard into space for food,
:: In between our front and back yards is our home that looks exactly like it exists between two gardens. In our home we tip toe around and make early morning muffins while papa sleeps in a bit.
And we eat them in the back yard of course.
:: Where we admire the cutest chickadee family that is living in our birdhouse with three wee babes (I found a dead fourth on the ground yesterday morning. Poor little bird. I buried her under her family).
:: Summer also encourages getting out. Meeting friends at the park,
or for walks around town,
or a just-mama post-bedtime rendezvous at the park
:: It’s summer and everything is photogenic.
Every year, every 13 years, although there’s so much that can happen, so much unexpected (like marrying your childhood crush), there’s also a loose predictability…
a rhythm that keeps us dancing and seeking joy.