Live, Laugh, Lube

Friends,

I reviewed photos and found so many gems. Like wayyyyy too many, even for me. Sorry/not sorry I fell off a cliff. Summer completes her sundress twirl and I mentally eye the school calendar thinking, and then I will breathe…

What about you? How much watermelon are you eating these days?

leap, young grasshopper! that basketball actually says chance but wouldn’t it be better if it said CHANGE?

My parents visited. It was glorious. They stayed with our kids while I stayed at a hotel. Sign me up! Hotels forever. Hotels for president. I read, I scrolled, I pooled. I ate a waffle every day. I took walks in abandoned parking lots. I ate dinner on a patio with my book, eavesdropping on a father-son convo I found at first charming, then worried the kid was petitioning for his dad’s vote. I turned back to my book and ate a lemon bar.

We are on an intense schedule of TV consumption, knitting, and eating over here. One of the kids and I are making a scarf for the other, who loves to watch. It’s like a sporting event (I mean, crafting is sort of an event, isn’t it?). They made me a sign one morning, as if I were a cyclist coming through town.

Tim found this in the cart at Costco

camping supplies

am I selling it yet?

you kind of can’t believe no one’s gotten there first

We went camping and there were so few mosquitos. It rained on the last day, after we had put away the tent. I knitted by the fire. We found algea in every crevice of our bodies. Tim drove us to a bookstore I’m now joking is only a six-hour errand away. I read a book salled Shotgun Lovesongs by Nickolas Butler, a novel about four friends from a small town in Wisconsin. I was delighted to find that it rotated points of view, not because that’s an easy structure but it’s something I’m contemplating for a project of my own. The book is charming and kind of perfect - true enough that it feels nourishing and real, but dramatic enough that it felt like a little escape, too. I like my fiction to feel like a gargantuan piece of cake, full of sweet, soft texture and tangy, over-the-top icing. Also, I have a bit of a thing for the midwest which is great because that’s where we live, lol.

My son just came into the room wearing an astronaut costume. How is your day going, and what are its gifts?

I know you spent nights worrying so let me assure you: my shoulder is getting better! At first I thought it was 95% the kinesio tape they were putting on it, but after swimming and lifting groceries without peril, I can honestly say it’s healing.

trying to capture the faint tan the kinesio tape gave me. I may not love anything as much as I love this tape. Move over stuffies, mama’s gotta brand new emotional support animal.

We came, we saw, we birthdayed. The end of summer is nigh. I am ready to dust off the comfy pants, pull on the sweaters, drop off the kids, stare out a window (rain optional). How will you celebrate the waning days of sun? How does your garden grow? Ours is lush, producing (small amounts of) basil, lettuce, cukes, and tomatoes (and kale - don’t you ever forget the kale).

Did you know that when you put seeds into dirt then water them, they grow shit? What are you planting in your life, and are you remembering to water it? Are you allowing the detritus of your life to grind down into compost, fertilizing, mulching the soil?

That reminds me - my friend Amelia started a Substack called The Art of Losing, a title I’d like to wrap around my neck and wear around town like a fancy scarf. Love, want, need! And my friend Jef has written a beautiful post about his stepfather passing, full of tender thoughts about influence, making art, and letting go in all the ways. Go check them both out and keep checking in with yourself. Keep watering those little seeds!

P.S. My mom once referred to my newsletter as a shortstack, like a small tower of pancakes. I propose we all adopt this when inquiring of friends and projects. “How’s your shortstack coming? Is it delicious yet or still in the powdery, gelatinous phase? See any bubbles yet? Is it ready to flip?”

I love you no matter what phase you’re in. Keep churning (and mixing all the metaphors).

XOXO