I’m 27 today, and it’s the first birthday I’ve had in which I have felt old or anxious about my age. 27 is chillingly close to 30, after all. Shouldn’t I have accomplished something by now? Achieved some modicum of fame or tweet-able career success? Wasn’t I supposed to have had a passel of sticky, bug-eyed children by this advanced age?
Yet. Aside from the intimations of mortality that 27 brings, I feel very content with my life. If anything, growing older has given me more grace for myself (and hopefully, in tiny degrees, for other people, even though I still score off-the-charts judgmental according to Myers-Briggs).
This year, I’d like to be more capable at giving and receiving grace, however that shakes out in my daily life. I’d like to write more and take the craft of writing more seriously. I’d like to tend to my husband and plants and animals with generosity and patience. I’d like to learn simple conversational French and how to eat food without getting bits of it all over myself.
So. At 27, I feel relaxed about the future, even though death looms.
Happiest of birthdays to my wonderful sister Kelsey! The sweet one, the go-getter, the consummate athlete, the heroine in all of my scary childhood dreams. I love you and I’m thankful to be related to you. Can’t wait to see you soon!
I am thankful for this little marmoset. Creator of all good things: absurdist pop art (of which we are the proud owners of three works, featuring Tracy Morgan, a bearded infant, and David Bowie riding a seahorse), photojournalism, documentaries, yoga classes, poetry, blogs, and perfectly composed outfits.
It is so good to have you in my life, sister. Hope your birthday is filled with stardust of the Ziggy persuasion, tiger kisses, yoga poses, and a smörgåsbord of elitist foodstuffs.
Would that I could spend every day with you! Then my life would be complete.
(No photos, because hostesses don’t have time for such things.)
Last night, we hosted our first party at our new house. As Cate said, “You haven’t really moved in until you’ve thrown a party.” And so now we’re official. We gathered in the backyard to celebrate Guion’s birthday AND his amazing cobbler-making skills. I announce it freely: My husband is a way better cook than I am. It’s taken me two years to admit it, but there it is. Pyrrha did amazingly well with the whole party, considering we had 20 new people swarming her yard. By the end of the night, she claimed the picnic blanket as her throne and watched us, mere minions, flit about her.
Caleb is with us this weekend, having made his annual summer sojourn to Charlottesville. He is helpful and funny and speaks Guion’s language in a way that few other people do.
On Wednesday night, Guion–who is extremely sexy–gave his final poetry reading at UVA. It is hard to believe that we’ve been here two years and that he’s already finished his coursework for his MFA. He did a wonderful job, as always, and we had a beautiful evening in the gardens celebrating these five great poets:
I am so very proud of him!
Saturday afternoon, we celebrated Leah’s 1st birthday at the park! Watching a baby have her first taste of chocolate is a glorious, intense experience.
More photos from the MFA readings and Leah’s birthday on my Flickr.
This is our last full week in our beloved Belmontonia, so I will be thoroughly consumed by the task of packing and preparing to move. My posting here will be a little more sparse than usual. But I still love you. If you’re looking for something sweet to read, you should check out Granddad’s memories of his mother’s German shepherd. OK. Talk to you again soon.
Baby Grace turns 20 today! I barely believe it. It seems like just yesterday Kelsey and I were tormenting her by playing “mean dogs” and not letting her come to sleepovers with us. But look at what that mild childhood trauma has done to her! She is the most accomplished 20-year-old I know. Here are 20 reasons why she rocks:
She loves people well.
She has the most infectious laugh of anyone I know; if she starts that rollicking laughter, you are compelled to start laughing, too, even if you have no idea what she’s laughing about.
This past week, we celebrated Win’s birthday a day early, by eating super-spicy Chinese food at Peter Chang’s and by clinking glasses of dark craft beer with friends at The Local. It was a classic Charlottesville birthday.
Then, this weekend, we traveled to Greensboro to see Daniel and Lauren get married! They are so wonderful and we were so happy to be there to celebrate with them. Brief photo recap below:
Thank you, brothers! Thoughtful responses by Christian men to John Piper’s unbelievable/offensive pronouncement that Christianity is and should be a masculine religion, that the best churches are ones with a “masculine feel.” (Rachel Held Evans)
DIY Valentine’s Wreath. Those who know me know that I am really not into cute DIY projects, but this one looks pretty darn adorable–and easy enough for someone like me to attempt. (Mod Cloth blog)
So tempting right now. Oh, nothing. Just an announcement that these two glorious dogs from a local Aussie breeder are having puppies in late March. Committed to rescue, committed to rescue… (Inkwell Aussies)
Today, importantly, is Guion’s 24th birthday! I wish I could have just stayed home to celebrate with him all day long. I love that man very much and I think I love him more every day, as totally absurd and romantic as that sounds. He’s the best. I hope his unsurprising birthday present, Bon Iver’s LP, comes in the mail today… G., love you forever and always. Happy, happy birthday!
On Saturday, we went adventuring in the gorgeous wilderness of White Hall with a band of friends. We bought a wheel of gouda from a Trappist monastery and then went to a forbidden but wonderful swimming hole on the Moormans River.
After we’d had our fun and settled down with some gouda and wine, we were discovered by a pair of old and understandably grumpy farmers, who kindly asked us to leave and stop trespassing on their land. We complied. Although we won’t be going back there again and felt bad about clearly violating their “no trespassing” signs, it was definitely worth it.
Snax with Trappist cheese and wine on a rock outcropping:
Catching the Bouquet. Here, Emma gives prime advice on how to catch the bouquet at any of the zillion summer weddings you’ve probably been invited to. Heed her wisdom, friends. She “caught” my bouquet and saved that moment from an otherwise awkward end. She’s a pro. (Take Two)