little black journal

We’ve been working our way through Ecclesiastes in our c-group, and last week Jason asked each of us to talk about verses in the passage we were reading that felt especially meaningful – I was quick to pick out 11:5:

“As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.”

There have been several times over the past year when I’ve asked God “why”. Actually, it was more like, “WHYYYYYYYYY???!!!” Why did I have a miscarriage when I was so ready to be a mom? Why has the road to pregnancy been so difficult when I’m so healthy and young? Why is it so damn easy for so many other women? But when I read that Bible verse on that particular night, I felt all those questions melt away and breathed a sigh of relief as my heart filled with comfort and trust. I cannot understand the work of God, so I may as well stop trying. Just let Him do his thing – he’s got it covered and completely under control. He’s steering the ship, and that ship may or may not be bound for my particular dream destination, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t know the first thing about driving a boat, so I’m much better off in his hands. I was proud of myself for my faith-filled revelation. I was growing as a person, finally finding the beauty in “Let Go and Let God” (Geez, how I had hated when people said that). Looking back, I realize I was also in that window of my cycle when hope is most vividly present, when there’s the possibility that things actually “took” that time around. It’s the time of month when I see pregnant ladies on the street and photos of babies on Facebook and I feel joy and quiet anticipation. But that window closed this week as Day 30 became Day 1 again, and the cycles (biological and emotional) began again. My trust-filled heart sank. I reread Ecclesiastes 11:5, but rather than finding comfort in God’s plan, I was frustrated by my limited, short-sighted understanding. That nagging three-letter word crept back into my thoughts: Why? I said hello to my all-too-familiar amigos, disappointment and doubt, and then asked guilt to join the party, because shoot, if I was this bummed out, I hadn’t given up control after all… Thankfully, I do some of my best praying and soul-searching as I’m tumbling down my mountain of hope, and I found a foothold in the realization that sadness and trust can exist side-by-side. It’s ok to be disappointed – it doesn’t make me faithless, or selfish, or overly dramatic. And if I want to whine to God that I just don’t get it, I think he’s willing to hear me out. He may not answer me in the way that I want him to, with a perfect pink plus sign on a little plastic stick, but I know he’s still with me on this emotional roller-coaster, loving me, holding me close in a hug from a friend, or a day full of sunshine, or an especially grand weekend with Shane. That much I understand.

We awoke this morning to gray skies and a steady drizzle, which initially had me a bit bummed out, until I realized this was just the excuse we needed to go back to bed for a couple of hours.  No beach-front runs for us today – just plenty of snuggling up to the mister, exchanging mushy greeting cards and wishing each other a Happy Anniversary many times over.  We lingered at the house until check-out time, really not wanting to say goodbye to our little beach-front abode – I’m already checking future availability…  We had planned on an afternoon hike at Deception Pass, but the rain only fell harder as we drove north, so we stopped for a hot bowl of chowder in La Conner for lunch and decided to head on home.  We ended the day with 60 Minutes and a pot of oatmeal for dinner – how quickly the tides turned in our ultra-romantic weekend!

While the life we live is full of so many blessings, it’s also full of little stresses, daily to-do’s, and the general whir of busy-ness.  It felt so, so good to put all that stuff away for a couple of days and shift all of my focus to loving my husband better, taking joy in his humor and thoughtfulness and devotion.  It was refreshing to lavish affection upon one another, to talk about our hopes for the next year and the next fifty years, and to know that we’re really just beginning this grand adventure called marriage.  As hard as it is to come down off a such a perfect weekend, it’s encouraging to remember that we still have so much to look forward to – thousands more “I love you’s”, hundreds more kitchen dance parties, plenty of grand adventures, and a healthy smattering of island getaways.  Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.  Thanks for two days (plus six years) of bliss.

As much as I love to travel, I am a notoriously bad trip planner.  I put off the researching and reserving until Shane swoops in with that save-the-day manner of his, and promptly books us a room at someplace amazing and lines up a slew of activities and meals and cocktails on his giant clipboard o’ fun.  Such was the case with our anniversary trip – it was technically my turn to plan something this year, but after only 10 minutes of frustrated VRBO-surfing, I threw my hands up in exasperation.  Enter Shane, with a link to a charming little waterfront cottage on Whidbey Island and a list of nearby parks and restaurants.  I promptly booked it, and on Friday afternoon, we were island-bound.

We arrived at the house just in time to watch the sun set over the sound.  We took in the view from the deck, bouncing inside to warm ourselves by the fireplace when  the winds picked up.  We spent the rest of the night on the couch, eating ice cream and playing a round of 90’s “name that tune” via Spotify.  Nothing says happy anniversary like En Vogue and Goo Goo Dolls!

We rolled out of bed this morning only when we were good and ready, snacked on banana bread and fresh fruit while watching the sun glint off the water, and then went for a jog down the beach, stopping every so often for Shane to skip a rock or scout out the bald eagle we’ve seen criss-crossing the beach all day.

We left the house around lunchtime in search of hearty local cuisine, and found it at the Coupeville and Bayview Farmer’s Markets.  Mini-donuts as an appetizer followed by a salmon taco from a little stand at the Coupeville Market, and then a tri-tip sandwich at Bayview that rivaled SLO’s Firestone Grill (my Cal Poly peeps know the significance of this comparison), paired with a grilled artichoke and ice cold lemonade.  In the words of La Verne, “nom nom”.

After stuffing ourselves silly, we drove over to Ebey’s Landing for a beach-front hike.  The fields leading to the water were shining in vivid shades of green and yellow, and the lookouts over the sound were breathtaking.

We made it back to the car just as our legs were about to give out, and the deck at the house proved to be the perfect place to put our feet up and catch a breath of fresh, salty air.  We cracked open the special bottle of champagne we’d brought along, put together a plate of chevre-smeared crackers and squares of dark chocolate, and spent a couple of hours letting the sun warm our cheeks, listening to the tide come in while we talked and laughed and felt so…content.  It was the kind of day I desperately wanted to stretch on forever.

Tomorrow, we officially celebrate six years of marriage – I’ve been trying to wish Shane a happy anniversary all weekend, but before I can get the words out, he shushes me and says “not yet!” (in the same way that he believes Christmas music should only be played on Christmas Day, he believes anniversary wishes are only applicable one day out of the year).  So tomorrow, Mr. Schnell.  Tomorrow I’m laying it on thick.

I know people say that Summer doesn’t truly arrive in Seattle until the 4th of July, but after the weekend we had, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that my favorite season is coming early this year (gosh, I hope I didn’t just jinx it…).

We started our weekend with the Kate Lynn Logan and JJ Heller show at the Q Cafe. It was a great, chill night of music – JJ is lovely and adorable with a super-sweet voice and a husband that accompanies her perfectly on the guitar. And late night Happy Hour after the show with Jack and La Verne at Daniels’ Broiler wasn’t half-bad, either…

We were up early on Saturday to run in the “Free Them 5k”, a fundraiser organized by the life-changing folks at World Concern. It was inspiring to see so many people turn out for a such a good cause. And the run was a blast – not at all competitive, but just a bunch of friends out for a jog on a beautiful day.

We headed home after the race for a shower, and then grabbed our bikes and were back out the door to ride to Jack and La Verne’s for an afternoon barbecue. We made a quick stop at the ball fields down the street to watch some of the neighborhood kids take a whack at tee ball. And my goodness, they were so cute with their give-it-your-all swings and helmets bobbling as they rounded the bases.

After barbecue part one at Jack and La Verne’s, we rode back home for barbecue part two with Justin and Lindsey. Fresh salmon hot off the grill, good conversation with some of our favorite neighbors, and one incredibly adorable baby that made me giggle as she pushed her face up against the door for a game of peek-a-boo with Shane. I predict this is only the first of many backyard dinners to come over the next few months. Yessssssss…

5k’s are kind of like chump change for Shane these days – he was up at 6:00 this morning to head over to Kirkland for yet another half-marathon. Jack, La Verne and I staked out the finish line and cheered like crazy as he rounded the bend several minutes earlier than expected. My man is a total rockstar – 13.1 miles in 1 hour and 39 minutes. Insane! I’m so proud of him. He dedicated this run to his mom in honor of Mother’s Day and said he thought of her whenever he needed encouragement to push up a particularly tough hill – his super-fast time is proof that she has been so, so good to him.

Post-race, we headed to Capitol Hill to check out the Farmer’s Market, but finding that it wasn’t open yet, we settled on sandwiches and an outdoor table at Homegrown. News flash!: I believe I may have found the best breakfast sandwich in Seattle. A fluffy fried egg, perfectly crisp bacon, Beecher’s cheese, and a toasted potato bun. Wowsers, it was good.

We napped and watched baseball and sat out on the back porch this afternoon, soaking in the joy of a lazy, sunny Sabbath. I eventually worked up the energy to get out of the house for ice cream from Full Tilt – tell me this photo isn’t proof that Summer really is almost here!

We took our cones to-go and drove over to Genessee Park to lay on the grass and catch the last of the day’s rays next to the blue waters of Lake Washington.

Ahhhhh, the bliss of a Vitamin D high…

It was a pretty grand weekend.  Grand in a run-of-the-mill kind of way, but that’s exactly what I was craving after a long week at work.  Plenty of rest, good times with friends, and a healthy dose of sunshine.

I kicked off Saturday with the ladies at our book club meeting – good coffee, good book (Go read The Book Thief!  You’ll love it!), and some good catching up with each other.  All kinds of good happening at Espresso Vivace that morning…

We spent Saturday evening at Jack and La Verne’s, making use of their new patio furniture and feasting on the fruits of Jack’s stellar grill skills.

Shane took a break from the action to hang with baby Stella.  I raised my eyebrows when Nicole asked Shane to put Stella in her footy pajamas, wondering if he’d be up for the task, but he was a like an old pro as he snapped her up, wrapped her in her fuzzy blanket, and took her in his arms for a quieting stroll around the house.  This man is going to make one heck of dad some day.

We ended the night with Beard Papa’s cream puffs and hot tea – again, so good!

I was thrilled to wake up this morning and see sunshine glowing through our bedroom curtains.  We spent some time after church this morning poking around Ballard, walking across the Locks and enjoying the blue, sunshiny skies.

I had a long list of to-do’s I’d planned on tackling this afternoon, but ultimately decided those chores and errands could wait:  I needed an afternoon of guilt-free veggin’.  I read and dozed on the couch, pulling myself out of sleep just in time to watch the Giants beat the Brewers in the 11th inning.  Woot!

Once the game was over, Shane and I moved our laze-fest to the backyard, to read and sip cocktails and dote on our neighbors’ new Shiba Inu puppy.

And that’s a wrap on this pretty perfect weekend.  Productivity is sooooo over-rated.

And that’s how it’s done.  Easy as chocolate chip cookie pie (with ice cream on top).

My watercolor sketchbook is now full, and I’m taking that as a sign that it’s time to move into a larger format – I think I feel my next collection brewing…

raindrops (2012.04.09):

fisheye (2012.04.11):

tree canopy (inspired by influx_studio’s ‘urban oasis’) (2012.04.28):

We got back this evening from a quick trip down to Portland for some quality time with my brother and his family.  And oooooh, girlies, why do you have to grow so fast?  Morgan and Elise continue to surprise us with how quickly they change, and while I get so much joy out of seeing them develop into little people with strong personalities and opinions and adorable little mannerisms, I also wish I could freeze time between visits, so that I don’t miss all the sweet moments in between.

Elise is still the same funny, strong-willed, giggling kid, but she’s chatting so much more now, using words to describe feelings or memories or the wild contents of her imagination.  She was singing a song this morning with a lyric that contained the word “bask” – she paused after this line to explain to me very matter-of-factly that bask means “to sit in the sun”.  Quite the vocabulary on that girl.  And don’t even bother trying to do the secret spelling thing around her (should we go to the P-A-R-K, or let her watch a M-O-V-I-E?) – she wasn’t fooled for a second.  She loves books almost as she loves the P-A-R-K, and she spent much of yesterday evening bouncing between Shane’s and my laps while we worked our way through her stack of library books.  She also loves her Uncle Shane somethin’ fierce.  And I can’t blame her – he really is the best kind of playground partner.

And Morgan… sweet, sweet Morgan.  That girl has my heart wrapped around her little finger.  She does this thing where she shrugs her shoulders while tilting her head and wrinkling that little nose and you can’t stop yourself from scooping her into your arms and kissing those soft baby cheeks.  She’s already got an imagination to match her sister’s, as she was pulling invisible food out of her toy car last night, holding it up to my mouth and making smacking noises with her lips as a cue for me to eat whatever kind of tasty meal she had prepared in her mind.  Our cuddle sessions are fewer and farther between, as she wants to constantly be on the go, but when she holds her arms out to you and lets you cradle her against your chest, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

I suppose I can accept that growth and change and the loss of baby-hood is inevitable – the big brown eyes on these little ladies will still forever win me over.

Shane and I are often told by people with children that we should savor every minute of this phase of life that we’re in.  And I know that it’s true – there is lots of freedom that comes with this dual-income, kid-free thing we’ve got goin’ on.  We can go out for a fancy dinner at a moment’s notice, we can stay out late drinking cocktails and seeing shows, we can jet out of town when we’re feeling antsy.  And yet, many nights I can’t think of anything I want to do more than put on my pajamas and hole up at home with a glass of wine and a good book or movie.  Tonight was a classic case in point:  we at least ventured out of the house to stuff ourselves at our neighborhood burger joint, but we were home by 7:30, I was in my sweats by 7:35, and my nest of blankets and pillows had been properly arranged on the couch by 7:40 for the optimal Giants-viewing experience.  I haven’t really gotten up since then, except to do a little drawing and brew a cup of tea.  And to give Buster Posey an air high-five for that homer he just hit.

Call me boring.  Call me a homebody.  Call me the 75 year-old trapped in the 30 year-old’s body.  But hot damn, this was my kind of Friday night.

Tonight I’m basking in the glow of a fabulous California weekend – 48 hours of catching up with the girls, seeing my high school bestie walk down the aisle with the man of her dreams, and soaking in the Central Valley heat has left me feeling happy as a sun-tanned clam.

Shane and I left rainy Seattle on Thursday evening in search of warmer, sunnier skies.

And two hours later, we arrived at the land of sunglasses, sandals, and In N Out burgers.

We settled into Amanda and Josh’s place that night and were up early on Friday morning for a run through our old stompin’ grounds.  I did a short loop around the college while Shane ventured farther out into the countryside to watch the sun come up over the orchards.

(photo by Shane)

By 9 am, it was warm.  By 11 am, it was downright hot – six years in the Pacific Northwest has caused 82 degrees to feel absolutely sweltering.  And so we hopped in the car and made the drive out to Knight’s Ferry to lay in the shade and put our feet in the water.  It’s easy to poke fun at the Central Valley, because it smells like manure and is full of Wal-Marts and bad chain restaurants, but it’s also stocked with some pretty scenic little gems.

It’s also stocked with amazing Mexican food, so after leaving Knight’s Ferry, we grabbed a table at Las Casuelas and indulged in margaritas and tacos.  Shane didn’t acquire a taste for Mexican food until after he’d moved to Seattle, so he’s making up for lost time with each trip back to California (this was taco round 1 of 2).

We caught up with Marco and Lisa over drinks on Friday evening, and then I spent the rest of the night working on centerpieces with the ladies for Amanda’s upcoming wedding.  We cut up piles of ribbon for her polka-dot bouquets, listened to pop music, and talked about old times.

I spent Saturday morning drinking coffee with Amanda and Kelly, doing more updating and reminiscing (I hadn’t been back since last June, so we had a lot of ground to cover!).

And then Saturday afternoon was devoted to shoe shopping with Amanda – every time I’m home, we set aside a couple of hours to wander the aisles of MJM and engage in the kind of bonding that comes only with fashion-related brutal honesty.  We talked each other out of some brightly colored wedges and instead walked away with just a couple of pairs of flats.

Saturday evening was reserved for the big event – we headed out to the country and grabbed our seats at the Lavender Farm to watch Jody and Travis begin their life together as husband and wife.  Jody and I go waaaay back, as she was one of my very first friends when my family moved to California in 1993.  Through much of junior high and high school, we had a standing date for Friday night sleepovers, where we’d paint our nails and flip through Delia’s catalogs and stay up late talking about the boys that didn’t even know we existed.  We were inseparable.  And slightly awkward.

But those days are gone…  We’re all grown up and my best friend with the side ponytail is now a lovely, elegant bride.

The wedding was beautiful – classy and cute and so wonderfully “Jody”.

And the night was filled with so much catching up and laughing and dancing and soaking in the comfort that comes with being around people that have known you for ages.  Gosh, I love these gals (and guys!)…

We were up early this morning to return to home sweet home – but I think I left a little piece of my heart back in California.