Summer high

We’ve been basking in the unexpected joy of a house full of some of our very favorite people this week, imported all the way from Rome and stationed in our downstairs area for a few days, much to the delight of Joey and his bf+f Isabel. She and he are just the cutest little people of the age of 3 that you’ll ever see. Totally worth rhyming about. So we’ve been touristing in our own city, drinking the most incredible wine I’ve ever tasted (see: cheated on my Whole30, but man was it worth it), and generally doing more than just library, petting farm, splash park, repeat.

Living it up.

No filter, and also no energy for the return hike in those 2-year old legs on the left…

In between social events I’ve been walking, doing laundry, thinking about maybe packing for this weekend, and trying to gather some notes together in my brain so that I don’t cause Hallie and Jen to look at each other over their cocktails and confess in furtive whispers, “Wow, she’s a lot better on (digital) paper.”

So who all is going to be there in that vast, faceless crowd, anyway? And who can I count on to meet me on the rooftop for some serious quality time by the pool? I have a sensible black Speedo I picked up at Costco last summer and I’m not afraid to nurse in it, so I can almost guarantee that if you stick with me we will command the full and undivided attention of the rooftop bar staff. 
If you read this little blog and you’re going, drop me a note and I’ll look for you when I’m nervously scanning the crowd, wondering how best to use the baby in my arms as a prop. Also maybe I’m looking for someone to sing female vocals on this track when the karaoke mic drops. Just something to pray about.


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