there's something in the water

On Sunday, Roomie Katie asked me if I wanted to take a Calligraphy class with her. And, as much as I hate denying her, I said no.

You see, I have already taken a Calligraphy class. She said it didn't count, because it was in third grade, but it did count - I assure you. Because I learned that I don't care to be a Calligrapher. I almost couldn't be a less-ideal candidate for the class, either, because that kind of patience does not come naturally to me. In fact, if there were any sort of prerequisite or enrollment interview, I can almost guarantee I would not be admitted to take it.

However, there are a number of things I would like to learn to do. Two of the most pressing items are (1) speak French (never mind the eight years of it I've already taken. I'm not good.)  and (2) water ski.

And this weekend, my friends, I actually factually water skied. (Hiyyaaa!)

You see, it has driven.me.nuts for years that I can't do it. I really wanted to be good at it and I just wasn't. I even took a week (seven days!) of water skiing lessons at Camp Eberhart. And I still could not do it! And again, never mind it was when I was in third grade. It counted.

But this weekend, a combination of great teachers + great drivers got this girl cruising behind the boat. And now I just want to go back to the lake and get my ski on, because I love love it. I'm going to be cube-dreaming of being at Rabun allll week. I just know it!

PS: Even though it wasn't from this weekend, check out one of my all time fav slalom skiers below. Miss Jordano Burrito Smeltzer. Champ!

i lake it. i lake it a lot.

In March, I officially called it spring. My heart was bursting with warmth as the two most perfect seasons began. And every year, as it turns to August, I begin to feel one part bliss, because I love back to school season, and if I try hard enough, I swear I can still get a whiff of the sweet smell of Eagle Elementary. But another part of my heart is anxious because I have wildly conflicted feelings about fall.

But, as I begin my third autumn in Atlanta, I'm beginning to relax. Fall isn't so scary, because winter isn't so long. In fact, Georgia winters are pretty unthreatening. I feel like I am no longer approaching fall with my shoulders up by my ears. I might even be excited...!

However, this weekend, we made sure to embrace summer to its fullest. With a birthday party Friday night, finding our new house Saturday morning (!!) and a trip to Lake Rabun Saturday and Sunday, the weekend was jam packed. My arms are sore (sore, sore) from tubing, but if you know me at all, you know that lakes are a pretty large obsession of mine, and the lactic acid build up really just means victory on the tube.

As I fell asleep last night, I definitely felt like my bed was rocking like a boat, and I was also sad to see the weekend end. But, we still have a lot of lake-appropriate weekends ahead of us - and that's the beautiful thing about fall in Georgia, my friends.

Hope you're weekend was grrreat. xo :)

Oh, and since I didn't take any pictures (eqjwbis!), a throwback for your Monday viewing pleasure.
Don't you lake it, too!?

image

not that busy?

There is something happening with busyness. Have you noticed? It's like it's losing its coolness. For the first time in years (read: ever) I'm seeing it as Bruce Wayne and not as Batman. And I don't think I'm alone.

Busyness has become a badge of honor. It means you're worth something. You're busy at work because people trust you with more responsibility. You're busy socially because you have a lot of friends. You're busy volunteering because you're such a good person.

And it's true. We are busy for those reasons. But when did it become a reason to brag?

I have been thinking about it a lot lately because I'm trying to prioritize things and figure out where to cut back. And then I stumbled upon this convicting article. And THEN my pastor talked about it at church this week. And that was when I realized I am not alone.

Sometimes we are busy because life is busy. And when you want to accomplish a lot and be productive, things get chaotic. It's inevitable. Sometimes. 

But other times, we take on busyness solely as a source of self-worth. And that is what I am trying to discern these days. Am I doing it to do it? Or because I want to/need to/care to?

I'm ashamed to admit I've said the word "busy" 52 times since I started my blog. 52!? That's embarrassing. Especially since I clearly found the time to blog about said busyness...

Michael Phelps could have swum eight events, but he only is swimming seven. Because he knows he is better when he prioritizes that which is most important.

And as we head into the exceptionally busy season that is fall, I'm trying to view decisions through the lens of: what are my priorities? And does this add to them? By approaching life this way, I am hoping I won't lean on being busy as a way to feel important, but instead simply as the way life unfolds sometimes. 

 If Michael can do it, fingers crossed that I can too. 

 image