Bixby Canyon Bridge - Death Cab for Cutie

"All the way from San Francisco, as I chased the end of your road. 'Cause I've still got miles to go, 

to go....."

San Francisco was such an important time in the life of our family. Our wedding, Worth's birth, some of our best friendships all occurred there. Our young marriage was forged in steel as one blow after another came upon us and we only had each other to rely on. (Yes, I realize I'm dangling my prepositions. Sounded better that way. Deal.) But we managed to laugh and love and dance, more often than not. 

On our 8-day roadtrip home from California we actually drove across the Bixby Canyon Bridge. It was a truly awesome place. It was eerie and sad and beautiful, a very fitting farewell to Norcal.

Now that we're home in Kansas, (well, technically Missouri, for the moment) seemingly at the end of our road, I'm reflecting on all that has passed. We've come so far, and yet we still have so far to go. We are growing, changing. All of us. Each of us. Some days I love what we're becoming, and others I fight tooth and nail against it.

Kansas' weather seems to be in step with my battle. So far in the past week we've had: mountains of snow, mild and 65 degrees, humid and 82 degrees, snow again, aaaaand a current temp of 35 and freezing rain. Neat! Ha, I shouldn't complain, I knew what we were coming back to. (Make a comment about the prepositions and I'll... stick my tongue out at you... or... something.) 


One thing remains true on both fronts - I enjoy unpredictability, but I'm ready for everything to bloom.

Download the song here.

Sausalito - Connor Oberst

"We could move to Sausalito, livin's easy on a houseboat, let the ocean rock us back and forth to sleep..."

I started this post almost two years ago with a completely different interpretation of these lyrics. At the time, I had just had my second miscarriage, was commuting an hour each way to a job I loathed, and had been living in Daly City (Land of the Dementors) for almost a year.  I think it's an understatement to say I was depressed. We were moving to Marin county, where my husband's boring job, most of our friends, and the SUN all lived, and I was quitting my awful job. While I was glad of those few things, I was sad to be signing yet another lease so far from home (Kansas), nervous about the future of our finances, and emotionally broken in half.

Today, I sit here listening to my precious 8-month old son sing himself to sleep, in my parents' loft in Kansas City, and my commute consists of a trip from the kitchen to my desk. My husband works for a firm he loves, I'm my own boss, we're shopping for a house to buy, can see family any time we want, and are all but holding hands and skipping through our days, we're so dang happy. Man, does that put things in perspective...

I've been having a pity party all day because of {what I now realize are} some {very} minor inconveniences. Thinking about that time in my life snapped things into focus. I am so. grateful. Before, the houseboat in Sausalito represented a quiet place to hide out and nurse my wounds. I wanted to sleep because being awake was just too hard. Now, it sounds like a great vacation, or maybe a retirement plan. I'd still love some more sleep than I'm getting, ha, but I actually feel awake.

Like, awake... to life. and love. and beauty.

Download the song here.