Journal



#2,203 Downton Sunday.

I don’t know what will be the marker of the return to normalcy after the crazy rush of the holidays next year. Ever since we’ve lived in this house, the Sunday premiere of Downton Abbey has been an event I’ve relished (even days before it happened) that coincides with Epiphany and soup and pajamas and that I’m going to miss very much next year. Oh well, for tonight there was homemade Tabella tomato bisque and dressing and Dawn’s incredible from-scratch focaccia bread (of which I nearly ate the entire pan even though I felt like I was about to bust):

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In other news, I seem to have taken a cold. Which is unfortunate since I need my voice for something on Tuesday, but maybe all this zinc and Emergen-C I’m chugging will nip it by morning! RIGHT?!

Also, Ben took this picture today while he and Jim were out at the cabin shooting clays, bows and burning all the discarded neighborhood Christmas trees because boys love to build fires. Jim bought the cabin from daddy last year, and I think I recall it being built some time in the late 1800s. It originally belonged to mine and Jim’s great grandparents and sits on the family land way out in the country.

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It was daddy’s fishing camp when I was growing up, and the site of some great family cookouts in high school. Some girl friends and I spent one summer night at this cabin our senior year… Without A/C. We shared a pull out sofa and a full size bed, played records, read books, ate Slim Jims, and told scary stories late into the night. We burned ‘Ocean’ scented candles from Pier One in an attempt to cover up the mustiness. The next morning we went out on the pond in daddy’s little aluminum paddle boat. We never considered snakes might be under said boat when we flipped it over. I cannot imagine 30 year old Erin doing any of these things. I am now a bonafide city girl, I reckon.

With any luck, tomorrow will be the beginning of my 6th busy wedding season for Lucky Luxe. Tonight I’m praying that God will use my work for something bigger than myself, that I can be a help and a comfort to a stressed out bride, that if this season isn’t a busy one that He’ll guide my footsteps and calm my fears, and that if it is a big year for us, He’ll teach me how to pace myself and give myself forgiveness when I can’t do everything the way I’d like. In short, here’s to a year with God at the wheel because I’m not nearly skilled enough to steer the ship on my own. I hope you have an incredible Monday ahead, dear reader. Let’s all do something remarkable this year. Go!

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Via Buzzfeed