Thoughts about faith, hope, and the rest of life
I feel like road rage is dangerous and for the most part, a wasted use of energy and life.
This blog post is my attempt to make the roads safer for someone. If this post decreases the number of times one driver goes into “road rage mode”, then the world will be a better place.
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I’m limited. I fight that about myself. I hate being restricted in time, energy and capabilities. I wish I could do it all. I wish I could function on less sleep. I wish I could hang out with more friends each week. I resist my limits.
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About a year ago, Tim, his sister, her husband, and I hatched a plan to purchase a house together and share the space. It seemed crazy and a bit far-fetched at the time – and it still does when we tell people we share a house. But there were also so many reasons why we thought it was a good idea. So we launched into the great unknown armed with a hard-working realtor, some childlike prayers of faith and a “we’ll see how it goes” kind of attitude. This is the story of how we got our house.
At some point in your life, you will likely have to navigate the sometimes-murky waters of long-distance friendships. Whether it’s you or your friend doing the moving, it can be a confusing and sometimes unsettling time as you adjust to the new dynamics of no longer being geographically together.
When people find out I’m an only child, they often ask me how it was growing up. Well, I don’t know any other life, and I had a very happy childhood. So I’d say it was great!
Olive and I are competitive.
Sometimes competition can be healthy, as a way of pushing the other to be better. Sometimes competition can get unhealthy, like the time I introduced Olive to the game of RISK during our anniversary trip… the game ended in tears.
Ah, summer.
Sunny days.
Ice-cream.
Beaches.
Flip-flops.
Sunglasses.