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February 18, 2008 :: Weekend Rambling

I've just concluded a wonderful weekend and Monday full of friends and family, congratulations, great food and leisurely strolling. I walked miles I'm sure, in the past few days, but I didn't really take any pictures. I think this was a more auditory jaunt. I'm tired from the journey, and almost hoarse from all the talking, singing and laughing that happened along the way and at every pit-stop for wine, coffee, tea and snacks. In fact, as I type this, I'm listening to Sia sing "These little black sandals are walking me away..." Perfect.

Quite often lately, I am smacked squarely in the face by exactly how lucky I am. This weekend sealed the deal for me. I've won the lucky-girl lottery.

My parents visited. Blake and I made the wedding announcement to them. They were thrilled. They accompanied me to his show on Saturday night (...probably the best show yet. The energy was amazing. And the two-hundred some people who showed up to see it agreed, from what I gathered from compliments and people rocking out with abandon in the audience.) My parents had a blast. Every time I left them at the bar I returned to find another friend happily chatting with them. Our friend G. agreed (without even asking) to perform our wedding. I'm over the moon. Blake and I closed down the Yacht Club, then went home and played acoustic guitar and sang into the early hours. The next day we all visited the antique mall; from my porch, we watched the sky darken into tornado weather; we ate a truly embarrassing amount of grilled meat at the Brazilian steakhouse; we watched movies; and we drank too much coffee. Then, my family was on their way. I conversed with a long-lost friend in LA. I worked and relaxed. Then Laura arrived. We had beer and talked about real estate and credit card debt. Stephanie and Blake joined us. We discussed strange diseases. And then it was over.

My house is clean. My refrigerator is stocked with farmer's market goodies. My laundry is folded. My dog is well-walked. My far-flung friends are happy. My head is full of recipes and paint colors. My fingers are flying over the keyboard, juiced on Starbucks and blissful motivation. It's a day for the record-books.

One I needed to record and come back to on those days that aren't this fine.