It caught my eye right away, but I couldn't see spending the money, so I walked on. I decided I would eat lunch and if I couldn't stop thinking about it, I would go back. If it was still there, it was meant to be. And hopefully it wouldn't be there. And probably it wouldn't, because it rocked just that hard.
After fish and chips, Jayme walked back with me to check it out and I confess, I was a little nervous.
I was nervous about the money and about the fact that it may be gone. And the fact that it might still be there.
Jaymes agreed that $50 was a chunk of change, but then she said this, "If you love it for fifty days, it will only be a dollar a day!"
Can it be said: Every girl needs a friend like this in her life.
We rounded the corner and there it was and I still wavered. I knew it was something that could easily "inspire" a "replica". But I couldn't get past the fact that the artist was there, in her wrap sweater, under the nylon awning. I loved her art. Not my knock-off version of it. I wanted to honor her art.
Still wavering, Jayme spoke again, "Shannan, you will bless her if you buy that."
She lit up when I walked toward her, cash in hand. I had my picture taken with her and she's just so lovely. I think we would be friends if life allowed for it.
I walk past this so many times a day. And almost every time, my heart nods along. Yep. You got that right. Life is Beauty Full.
Life is beauty full in the way that allows for one hour, all my own. Writing a story at a table for two, my only companions a bowl of white chili and a chocolate dipped strawberry that I nibbled to the quick.
Life is beauty full in such a way that I bought two bags of groceries here today.
I bought buns and pretend Cookie Crisp, 2 avocados and shaving cream, for a special craft tomorrow. Siley helped me carry things. I couldn't have done it without him.
We ate our broiled turkey and provolone subs piled up under a haystack of banana peppers, then we headed out for a 1 mile fitness walk at Calvin's school.
Silas was happy, but only for the one mile. Out of his stroller, he was grumpy and pushy and screamy and peevish.
"Peevish". That's how his Korean paperwork described him, and I'm sorry to say that the shoe often fits.
But you know? I'd be peevish, too.
And we're praying love and joy right into his bones. We're carrying him around and giving him snacks and tickling his tummy and pretending to eat his toes and reading him books and rubbing his hairy little back and life is Beauty Full.
This sweet thang? She flew through the kitchen last night on her way to play outside, and yelled out, "I love you! You're a smart sweetheart!" just before the screen door slammed.
I melted right into my butter bowl.
I knew in that moment that she was parroting some of the words she hears every single day and yes, I go to bed far too often feeling like I failed as a Mama in some little way, but right then? I knew I was good.
She twirled around a rotation or two, then left us in the dust for a date with Nana, Papa and her two best pals, Colin and Jack. (I asked her before bed what the volleyball players did and she said (and demonstrated), "They PUSH the ball over the tennis court!")
The rest of the evening was just us and the boys. And these trees, finally spilling their sunshine, smiling from the outside in, blushing gold.
Each step ramped up our momentum and by the time we reached the end, we were both five years old and our hands fit together so well, even in the downhill rush and maybe he didn't say it, but I know he was feeling it: