rover...

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I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl
From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl
I'd love to spend winter with my lovely summer girl
But I'm never warm enough for my lovely summer girl
It's summer when she smiles, I'm laughing like a child
It's the summer of our lives; we'll contain it for awhile
She hold the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her hand
I'd be happy with this summer if it's all we ever had.

- Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver

...from a book I've never read. But I like it. 

And summer is... over. I don't like that. Not really much at all.

boom...

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If ultimate frisbee is a just-out-of-the-oven, warm chocolate chunk brownie, playing ultimate in the cool evenings of fall is the melting ice cream on top - deliciously sinking into all the nooks and crannies.

Today I bought an ankle brace, laced the thing up, and limped around the field for a couple of hours. I couldn't catch half the throws I could normally run for, and I got burned a good handful of times. I didn't care. Well, a little. But I was outside running around again, and the sun was setting in bright pinks against deep blue, rain-soaked clouds. Yeah, I cared about that more. It was glorious.

gusto...

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I need almost daily reminders to put my all into each day. How easy it is to forget. How awesome it is to remember.

Tomorrow is going to be a kick bootie day. I even wrote it in my planner.

To work hard, play hard, be fully alive. I most definitely desire those things. Tomorrow. It's happening, tomorrow.

gift...

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So happy our family's lives changed a year ago with this happy little arrival. Happy, happy birthday, Mason!

bees knees...

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Yesterday I had a three-hour phone call with a friend. We don't typically make small talk. It's a 'how is your life, how is your heart, what has been moving you lately' kind of talk. We laugh a lot too. And challenge each other. After the call is over, I can't help feeling loved. More loved than before. I am so grateful for authentic relationships. People who care - not for the sake of knowing, but for the sake of loving. A gift for the soul.

free...

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"You never go away from us, yet we have difficulty in returning to You. Come, Lord, stir us up and call us back. Kindle and seize us. Be our fire and our sweetness. Let us love. Let us run."

- St. Augustine

pants on the...

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A pair of dark gray skinny cords came home with me today.

Winning.

kidney...

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Today I felt like a housewife. Went to Mass, followed by grocery shopping, followed by concocting a huge batch (first of the season!) of thick, homestyle chili. And oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (partially to replace my roommates, which I ate most of, I am sure). And cleaned like a fiend. Spiders, anyone?

Enjoyed a friend's company and refreshments of the chilled belgian-wheat variety, over lunch.  Yes, I'll cheers to that.

I have no idea if this is what housewives actually do during a typical day... drink beer, listen to tunes, and tidy-up. If it is... yes, please.

stay...

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It has possibly been one of those... months. Emotional (I'm sure you can tell by the recent bombardment of posts, after almost a year hiatus) and searching for understanding, connection. A desperate search of song lyrics has proved futile (go figure). But this. This I thought quite lovely.





There's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away.


Sarah Kay

before...

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Typically I don't permit myself impulse buys.  I make myself answer questions first, like, do I really need (whatever that means, anyway) this? Or, have I noticed a void of this or that for some time?

I get to indulge this desire for instancy though, during blissful visits to the local library.

Last week I picked up 'The Second Child' - a collection of poems by Deborah Garrison. I have no idea why. I can't say that I really ever read poems. Not that I don't enjoy them. I just never... think of it.  So what a delight to curl up and peruse this little book of lovely one sunny afternoon.

I wanted to share a favorite of mine. For whatever reason... well, I think I know... it caused me to smile.

The Past is Still There

I've forgotten so much.
What it felt like back then,
what we said to each other.

But sometimes when I'm standing
at the kitchen counter after dinner
and I look out the window at the dark

thinking of nothing,
something swims up.
Tonight this:

your laughing into my mouth
as you were trying
to kiss me.

duck, duck, goose...

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The amount of f-bombs that have been flying through my brain the past few days, week maybe, has been utterly absurd, borderline appalling and so absolutely out of character it's often times comical. Which, I suppose, is why I feel compelled to write about it, knowing some might think I'm off my rocker. Or really angry. Or just weird. Hmmm... yes. All three, please. I share anyway.

I've noticed no one is immune to this critical, internal barrage. Well... maybe my mother. A strange look in my direction, "what the f---?" I yell at them, to myself, while smiling and nodding hello. A lovey-dovey couple holding hands in the grocery store, "f--- you". Cut off in traffic, "are you f------ kidding me?" Seriously, "what the f---?"

And tonight, while I'm prepping this post I hear a light drop on the seat behind me - what the... then, "F---!" (hard to tell, but all caps... definitely all caps). A big f------ spider just dropped from the ceiling to my couch. And now he sees me watching him and takes off quicker than a 100m sprint Olympian in all sorts of spastic directions. I grab my patent black flats and beat the living daylights out of it, flattening it paper thin to ensure no rebirths. Spiders do that you know - dead one minute, crawling, seemingly unscathed, the next.

And, while I continue typing this obnoxious, asinine post, a small movement to the right catches my eye, "you have got to be f------ kidding me." Another one. "It is f------ on." The other ballet flat is retrieved and utilized. This spider is faster and more nimble, but cannot escape my wrath. "F--- you, f------ spider." Smithereens is all that's left of it as well.

I urgently search  Google images, quite certain both were brown recluse spiders. Too bad I smashed them so confidently and ferociously their identifying marks are no longer such.

F--- you, spider.

F---. You.

I need therapy.


tenterhooked...

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I am the sea on a moonless night,
Calling, falling, slipping tides
I am the leaky, dripping pipes
The endless aching drops of light
I am the raindrop falling down,
Always longing for the deeper ground
I am the broken, breaking seas
Even my blood finds ways to bleed

Even the rivers ways to run
Even the rain to reach the sun
Even my thirsty streams,
Even in my dreams

I am restless, I am restless
I am restless, looking for you
I am restless, I run like the ocean to find your shore
I'm looking for you

- Switchfoot

gifted...

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A couple of weeks ago I sprained my ankle while bouldering.  It was totally dumb, my fault, and a silly way to suffer injury. I was going for a reach, I wasn't balanced, and I was prideful.  I'd done the route before. People were watching. Of course I could do it again.

Yep. Let me tell you how that way of thinking worked out. Pain and limping for the past two weeks (and it's not done yet, folks). Missing climbing nights and Ultimate league. Missing afternoon runs. Missing a simple walk around the block. And perfecting an entertaining method of going down steps.

There are, easily, many things that could have been worse. I could have had a wedding to shoot that weekend. I could have broken something. It could have been my knee twisted to oblivion. I know this. I still like to feel sorry for myself. I'm not used to being physically limited.

It's the typical case of taking things for granted. Not realizing how good something is, until it's no longer yours. Reading too much into a twisted joint?  Maybe.

But it was a point of reflection. I consider myself a grateful person... with a lot of room for improvement (so said little ankle).

Oh, how we can take things for granted. Our bodies. Our minds. Senses. People. Strangers. Shelter. Work. Love. Kindness.

Whatever the case, the injury provided extra time with friends, rest for my weary bones, and a renewed appreciation for health.

I'm not taking that for granted.