The Only Tenn I See

Dear Reader,

One of the reasons that tumbleweeds have been scooting along the blog is that (yay!) I’m in Nashville!  The other reason being that (boo!), my computer has been possessed by Satan.

Coming back to Nashville always feels like coming home. And yet, with the little life I’m making for myself in Charleston, I’ll be happy to mosey on back on Monday night.  And this.. you know… brings me joy and makes me feel like I’m doing pretty okay with this whole life thing.

I hope that you find yourself happy where you are, even if you’re in between where you’ve been and where you’re going.

The Opposite of Howdy,

Haley

The Love that Let Us Share Our Name*

*even though my last name’s different. minor detail.

My mom and dad had so much fun sifting through old pictures this past weekend, and they made sure that all four of their children received a play by play of every minute.  My phone was blown up by texts and emails of sweet memories from my childhood.  I loved it, and I loved how much my parents loved it.  The above is a small patch from the onslaught.

In other news: Isn’t my mom a total betty, y’all??

Passion Fruit

Chris and I shut down Basil on our first date. Chairs on the table, waitress checking her phone, cut the music, turn up the lights, shut. it. down.  I drove home that night with a fluttery heart, short breath, and a nagging desire to know that man more.

I’m happy to report that after a year and a half of dating, of living and weaving our lives within and throughout each others,  I still feel that desire beating in my chest.  (roaring applause!)

This past weekend wasn’t terribly eventful.  We spent the first part of it on a juice cleanse (to which I say: meh). On Sunday, he tidied up and hung around the house with the pup.  I went thrifting around town,  in search of  some key pieces to zhuzh this place up (where upon I found an AMAZING mirror! More to come on that, maybe).  After dinner, we wound down, cozied up, and started discussing  the things in life that we’re most passionate about.  When I recite the desires of my heart out loud to him, it’s all very complicated and wordy. There’s a reason and a root for every dream, whether budding or blooming, and I aim to make certain that he knows the ends and outs of every last one of them.

Bless him.

He, on the other hand, is concise.  He loves what he loves because he loves it.  He wants to do what makes him happy because it makes him happy.  And, you know, I just think it’s so great.

I don’t really know how else to wrap this up, so I’ll just say:  Yay for accountability.  Hurrah for love. It’s good to be known.  I want a cheeseburger.