a delicious start.

come spring break and Reasonable Residents of Coldish Lands tend to make a mass exodus to florida. we seven owenses, however, are still tooling around these parts.

the bad news is forty-three degrees with nary a beach in sight. the good news is we have the entire midwest to ourselves.






we've a week of low-key togetherness up our sleeves, inaugurated with a trip to the local frozen yogurt shop, where we loaded up on flavors like red velvet cupcake and tahitian vanilla. (i'm a purist and stick to chocolate + pecans every time, but in honor of spring break, i let my festive streak loose with the sprinkles.)





also in store: a trip to the bakery, a living-room camp out, s'mores and roasted hot dogs. library stops and pudding pie and maybe a hike or two. i've a bunch of work and orders to complete as well, but i'm clearing out spaces to just enjoy my kiddos.


thankful today for:
214. new friends and the fine game of euchre
215. cherry trees raining petals
216. lasagna soup
217. solid family, both the close-bys and the far-aways
218. peppermint york creamer
219. a timely reminder to wield my words (and tone) with care
220. pillows
221. little (and mediumish) boys who always need a haircut
222. fat magnolias lining our streets
223. colored sprinkles

a quick peek.

my, but that wedding was gorgeous.

'twas saint patrick's day and the men were decked out in full irish garb, and i'll come clean: i had my doubts about the kilts, but those fellows made for a dashing bunch.

and dana was downright striking in her embroidered gown and glittery emerald shoes; that girl is lovely and poised and all-out arresting. in sum: every photographer's dream.







i'll share more when i have most of the editing done, but i was chomping at the bit to post a few quick peeks of these gorgeous folk.










congratulations, steve and dana. you two are beautiful together.

five on friday. give or take a few.

-every once in a while, when he's sure i'm not looking, little em'll quick go and do his journal.



yestrday I past a bol with my bruthur.


considering we've done very little actual schooling (and much in the way of silent protesting) in the past six months of home-preschool, and also considering that this kiddo's repertory of the english language eight months prior was i'm fine, thank you, i think it's safe to say he's one smart cookie.



-sliced bananas + nutella dip = breakfast of champions.



-i am shooting my first (and second to last) wedding this saturday, which is going to be Marvelous Times, no doubt, but also i am maybe a wee bit nervous. please pray.



-i'm also doing some online coursework, plus the reading of many books, so come 7pm most nights and my brain would like to cry uncle. it is not a fan of all this thinking.



-we've grand culinary plans to make brenda's lasagna soup this weekend. (many thanks to shannan and pinterest for the soup alert.)






-these two weeks have been the Best March Ever, by which i mean warm, and on several afternoons we've rallied the troops and trekked outdoors for some much-needed muscle and lung usage. turns out mine, in particular, are rusty.



-this post by emily has stuck with me all week, debunking the widely held belief that God won't give us more than we can handle. she quotes katie's book: i believe that God totally, absolutely, intentionally gives us more than we can handle. because this is when we surrender to him and he takes over, proving himself by doing the impossible in our lives.

the truth of that sings in my bones right now. that, and the part em writes about the unseen. go read, please.








and now it's off to the wedding-prep-races. :) happy weekending, friends!

on high sun and headaches.

come early march and it requires direct force to pry me from the General Indoor Area, where things have the good sense to stay dry and warm. but the weather 'round these parts has been downright bizarre (and i mean that as a compliment), so yesterday elle and i slipped outside of our own accord for a bit of quiet play under all that high sun.

















so the mister's been gone, which is Never Much Fun because invariably it means:

a. lying awake for at least 90 minutes at the start of each sleep
b. waking 87 times per night just to check that, you know, the house is still standing
ergo, c. the days take on this headachey, hazy sheen

add to this
d. the natives are restless
and you end up with an alphabetic recipe for the longest three days of my recent life.

when he steps back in tonight, the odds are fantastic that at least a few tears shall be shed in the blessed name of Relief.



in other news, this is the face of a girl who is telling her mother about the wily child who's taken to smooching her on the school bus each day. oh, my aching head. i've a notion to move to a new neighborhood with a different bus route, or less dramatically, drive her to school, but in the end i armed her with The Rule: kissing is for family only, you sneaky little mister. (okay, the sneaky little mister part was optional.)

first grade romance wears me out. whatever shall i do when she's seventeen?