follow the fiddler crab.

where did the fiddlers go?

 

patiently on the lookout for more fiddlers.

 

"Celebrate we will 

because life is short, but sweet for certain

We'll climb on two by two

to be sure these days continue"

[dave]

when you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses.

Bearing homemade chicken tortilla soup (the classic and incomparable

Lewis family recipe), I went to visit Lauren and brand new Harper Lily,

born last Tuesday afternoon.

Harper is so dainty and divine. 

With a shock of blonde hair

and tiny details.

The faces she made while she was dozing 

must have been the products of lovely baby dreams.

The pictures below are not of Harper... just small children.

playing hostess.

On Thursday afternoon, one of Augustus's favorites (and mine too!) 

is arriving in Charleston. We're counting down the days, Miss Rachel Glass.

after a few years at Baylor...

Even though Dad tends to take far-away pictures,
he did a lovely job with this one. 

snug as a bug in a rug.

After my shower, I found my once neatly made bed to be slightly rumpled,
with pillows out of place, and a mysterious Augustus size bump under the covers.

And that's what I found—a little sleeping bug.

Nice and cozy, dreaming about piers and tennis balls.

Oops, he senses the camera. He can't resist a photo opportunity.
It's his favorite time to shine.

But he just can't quite keep his eyes open... (and the flash is probably irritating)

The Bug, back to snoozing.

Sweet dreams, little bug.

this song is instant love.

"The light was leaving, in the west it was blue

The children's laughter sang

And skipping just like the stones they threw,

the voices echoed across the waves

It's getting late.

It was just another night 

with the sunset and the moonrise not so far behind 

to give us just enough light to lay down 

underneath the stars,

listen to papa's translations of the stories 

across the sky

We drew our own constellations

The west winds often last too long, the wind may calm down

Nothing ever feels the same

sheltered under the kamani tree, 

waiting for the passing rain

Clouds keep moving to uncover the sea,

stars above are chasing the day away

To find the stories that we sometimes need, 

listen close enough

All else fades, fades away

it was just another night 

with the sunset and the moonrise not so far behind

to give us just enough light to lay down 

underneath the stars

listen to all the translations of the stories 

across the sky

we drew our own constellations" 

["Constellations", Jack Johnson]

thank you pictures.

he just wants to dream about ducks.

Hannity's sleepy but he tolerated a little photo shoot.

I love his speckles.

why don't we dance anymore

i'm not okay with that

why don't we laugh anymore

i'm not okay with that

the years go by like stones under rushing water

we only know, we only know

when it's gone

why don't we smile anymore

i'm not okay with that

why don't we dance slowly

i'm not okay with that

the years go by like stones under rushing water

we only know, we only know

when it's gone

[needtobreathe]

let's celebrate.

Today marks the day Hannity is finally allowed to go on long walks again. After two weeks of making sure he stays off all couches (because little did we know... you can injure an ankle—or a hock in Hannity's case—when romping and jumping off pieces of furniture), this morning the three of us (Augustus included) strolled over to a park with a field for plenty of hurtling, chasing, and tumbling.
It was windy.

Embracing the wind.

Pondering.

Augustus looks like he's either singing, crying, or cracking up
while Hannity is all seriousness.

Augustus thinks he's their leader. 

Hannity has other plans. 

He doesn't know what's coming.

Hannity can't be left out.
This is his way of thwarting Augustus's newfound leadership.

Leaps, bounds, and all ears.

every house needs a porch.

To me, a house is not a home without a porch. It's just... missing a vital piece if there's no porch of which to speak.

And Southern Living agrees with me: 

"No Southern home is complete without a wide front porch."

My favorite porches feature wood floors, blue ceilings, and an assortment of rocking chairs, comfy cushions and pillows, and a bench swing or two. 

step right up.

status report

Something is wrong with my camera. 

It's being very temperamental about focus settings.

And even though I've studied the manual extensively

and followed all the steps to make things right...

it's still refusing to be agreeable.

So.

Come Monday, I'll cajole an art intern 

into taking a look at this silly thing.

And hopefully, they'll be very kind

and very helpful and I'll be very lucky

and the camera

will be fixed.

this is my kind of place.

and to your left...

Yep, there's the beach.

Just step down off the boardwalk and seashell hunt to your heart's content.

Watch out for the sand fiddlers. Unless you're Augustus—in his opinion, miniature crabs are the ideal chasing objects.

the fairy tale.

"My heart is large; it can contain everything at once, 

and the road I'm on . . . can you see it? 

It runs forward and backward and no matter which way we travel on it, 

the direction is the same. You know the direction I mean: homeward." 

[Love Walked In. Marisa de los Santos]

miniature.

I can only describe this book as absolutely divine and my favorite story that will probably never be replaced by another one. It's so clever and exquisite and brilliant and lovely.

oh wait, i do.

sometimes i wish i lived by a pier 

in a lighthouse with a chandelier

i'd watch everybody's ships come in

and then i'd sail away with them

unanchored in the storm

or safely tethered on the shore

if this is all i need, why do i want more...

[miranda lambert]

pier