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weekend edition.


i’m jumping in.

i may be a bit delirious, given that i’ve been awake since the wee hours of the morning – the darkness of the middle of the night matches the dark circles under my eyes right now – but it’s Friday, i just finished grading more than 70 (yes, SEVENTY) student essays, and though i have a sick babe at home snuggled in my hubby’s arms, i am ready for this weekend.

for the first weekend in a while, i’m leaving my teacher self at school and jumping in to my mama self, my wife self, my me self.

a few things i’m digging, and a few things i’m hoping to get accomplished this weekend:

  • Quincy and i had the pleasure of meeting the ladies of Joseph at Write: Doe Bay last year, and i’m loving their new album. must-listen: “White Flag.”
  • Spotify is rocking my world – the Premium version is 100 percent worth paying for. must-listen: Acoustic Covers playlist.
  • chilly temperatures mean scarves, plaid, boots, and gold jewelry. two of my newest fall-inspired purchases: this scarf and this necklace from Madewell (i’m OBSESSED and wish i didn’t have to drive all the way to the Twin Cities to try on – ahem, and buy – all of the things.)
  • on deck this weekend: get my babe well by indulging in many, many “nuggles” (snuggles); do a round of Powersheets for October…a week late; cheer on my biggest as he puts a cap on his very first soccer season; soak up girl time with my Mom and my brother’s girl; and hopefully, maybe, actually beat my husband – for the first time – at this board game that we’re loving.



never forget.

on this day of remembrance, a poem that speaks my heart:

To My Children, Fearing for Them

by Wendell Berry {from his book, New Collected Poems}

Terrors are to come. The earth
Is poisoned with narrow lives.
I think of you. What you will
Live through, or perish by, eats
At my heart. What have I done? I
Need better answers than there are.

To pain of coming to see
What was done in blindness,
Loving what I cannot save. Nor,

Your eyes turning toward me,
Can I wish your lives unmade
Though the pain of them is on me.