as for our weekend

The laundry has piled up and the dishes are practically stacked to the ceiling, but our hearts are full and our fun-o-meter gauge is sitting at capacity.

It was one of those busy-whirlwind-yet somehow peaceful and relaxing weekends.  I'm actually going to include last night as part of our weekend.

My husband sent me to the nail salon for some birthday pampering.

Zach ran a mud run.

 

Lots of our friends, also, ran a mud run.

Never once did I consider running a mud run.  Until the end when everyone was done and had so much fun.  I'm beginning to think I may be convinced for the go around in the Fall, but don't tell anyone.

Photo courtesy of Emily Hoffman.

We planted.  For real.  Zach has been doing some yardwork; in an obsessive, come home from a long day at work and go outside to weed or mulch or mow kind of way.  I am not the biggest fan or yardwork, but can't complain about the results.

On Sunday when we were planting these two old ladies driving by slowed down their car right in the middle of the road, rolled down a window, and hollered
 "It's looking pretty good out here.  It is so nice to see some young people ACTUALLY working."

Uh..thanks?  Compliments that are actually insults =  complisults.  Copyright pending.

 


Zach and I stayed up into the wee hours Saturday night.  On the front porch.  With dear friends.  Discussing the gospel and Jesus' church.  I haven't been able to stop thinking about the church since.  I should mention that by "wee hours" I mean eleven pm.

Somewhere in there, I became twenty-four.  I don't feel twenty-four.  Some days I feel thirty-four, but other days I feel fourteen.  I wonder if I'll ever feel my age?  And by feel, I mean wake up with a new sensation and say to myself, this is it.  This is what twenty-four years on this earth feels like.  Not the way that I said, man, I'm feeling my age.  I can no longer remember things without writing them down, and there are new aches and pains, and the gray(ish) hairs.  My goodness the gray(ish) hairs.  I refer to eleven pm as the "wee hours".

Just a thought, when does "feeling" our age become more thinking about the years we already have and less thinking about the years that are yet to come.  Maybe when babies that are our own enter the mix.  We are a vapor, people.

Any who, last night we had family birthday celebration.  Low country boil was my birthday request, and a gathering of loved ones.  Both were achieved, and it was a party, hence it was counted as a continuation on the weekend.