I turned 25.
I stood up inside of a tree.
I read poetry.
I went to a pajama party.
I saw a seal.
I packed a lunch every day for Michael’s first week of school.
I filmed a trailer.
I attended a beautiful wedding (at the Plaaaaaza).
I (finally) re-arranged our bedroom.
And now, now that it’s all been done, I’m back.
It’s too hot and too busy to be September but somehow it still is.
This summer was intense but beautiful. The whole thing was definitely permeated by the sense of an ending to the freedom that Michael and I have tried so hard to cultivate. That end was scary, but it marked the beginning of something truly special: a new level of commitment to our lives and our development, to our careers and our dreams. It feels a lot like growing up. Though we tried to slough off this pressure we rarely managed to. Instead, we did the best we could. We packed sun drenched afternoons with dates and dalliances and we curled up in bed as often and as late as possible and we held on tight to what we knew. Now that it’s all begun it feels far less ominous. This is our world now: early mornings, long days, short nights for catching up and cooking dinner, one glorious Sunday a week dedicated to laying or adventuring or whatever strikes our fancy. Plus, a million little other things in between (read: guests, work, homework, family, birthdays, holidays). We’re just taking it one day at a time.