Moving Photo Outtakes: 06 & 07

Let’s play a game of Eye Spy, shall we? I spy shorts that are orange, Sofia the Furst & a kid who thinks he’s a dog… or at least likes invading his dog’s quarters.


& this photo is called, “When did my Bishop get to be such a GIANT!?”

Moving Photo Outtakes: 04 & 05

Pauly Bear & His Ambrosia.


Moving Photo Outtake: 03

The coffee cup says it all.


Craigslist Corral: Homeschool Edition

Ok, here’s my next Craigslist Corral. This time, how about we hunt for vintage homeschool decor?

00E0E_k3oIwPvq4fm_1200x900Antique Double Desk with 2 Chairs. $80. (Duluth) // This is awesome. Even more awesome if your kids get along well enough to sit that closely without losing their minds. That’s a win for everyone because this looks super well-built.

00L0L_8vzCHCjwmqv_1200x900Wood Filing Cabinet. $80 (Bishop) // Bishop is a hike for most people, but for those with either an aversion to metal and/or plastic, or a affinity for wood/well built items, this would definitely be worth the time!dashdivider


00x0x_3gLxgI3UEaI_1200x900Large Desk/Hobby Table. $100 (Athens) // This is gorgeous!


00L0L_cbujQXyn3Ar_1200x900School Desk. (Hull) // This seller says to make an offer, but I had NO IDEA Craigslist had so many antique school desks!! $75; $25; $25; $35


00T0T_1VNatx98FKD_1200x900Organizer. $100 (Bogart) // This is awesome! Not just for the homeschool classroom, but for a catchall in the mudroom or garage.dashdivider


00v0v_7D8FIXfkqe0_1200x900Two Tone Metal Storage Cabinet. $175 (Old Fourth Ward) // Leave it to O4W to have the coolest find in this line up. Oh, Atlanta. Some times I miss you so much.dashdivider


00X0X_ggWizTUNjG7_1200x900Vinyl backed wooden school chairs. $40/each (Atlanta) // Aren’t these so fun?!dashdivider


00Z0Z_iWYhz1zXFb3_600x450Street Sign. $30 (Doraville) // I don’t know if this is legal(?) but this would certainly be fun in a homeschool room, wouldn’t it!? But it’s huge… 5 feet tall! It would definitely be a statement piece.dashdivider


00W0W_apb6w1Aq2G0_1200x900Typewriter. $65 (Stone Mountain) // Want to teach your kids some patience? This’ll do it. Also, it’s cute.dashdivider


00101_1IPVSWosTda_1200x900Vintage Filing Cabinet. $70 (Lenox Mall Area) // This could go vintage, glam or whichever way you’d like. Love this!dashdivider


00606_ku3PYhRWkS2_1200x900Vintage Automotive Cabinet. $55 (Powder Springs) // I love storage cabinets. Up & out of the way makes my day, y’all!

Craigslist Corral: Blue

This is my second post on Craigslist finds… Ah! This is super fun!  Today, blue is the color of choice.

00K0K_hMa8skL3xbT_1200x900MCM Blue Sofa. $150 (Athens, Ga) // 9ft long! It looks super soft, & the seller says they’ll take off $25 if you buy it the first day you email them.
bluedivider00f0f_3u15hI1KBJm_1200x900Light Blue & Cream Couch. $100 (Metro Atlanta) // I love this! It could go formal or fun.bluedivider00a0a_6Z75A0HhRFg_1200x900Blue & White Outdoor Folding Chairs. $50 (Kennesaw) // These would be great in a garden, wouldn’t they? Or even in a sunroom. LOVE.bluedivider00i0i_fvV1z0PGMtS_1200x900Vintage Blue Velvet Chair. $100 (Marietta) // Formal & cozy. I could see this chair in a reading nook like this, or holding it’s own in a massive space like this or even in some bohemian cabin retreat like this!bluedivider00i0i_1fqx0WH6XeL_1200x900Antique Stove. $800 (Uvalda) // I’m not sure if it works, but if it does, this is a wonderful deal!bluedivider00K0K_kGLv9yh4Arc_1200x900Persian Rug. $75 (Atlanta) // Seventy-five dollars?! Are you kidding me?! It’s 9×12 feet. If I didn’t think my husband would more than a little annoyed with me for buying more things while we’re paying $100/month for a storage unit, I’d be all over this!bluedivider00R0R_6gV0jJfYZcR_1200x900Denim Sofa. $20 (Ansley Park) // Denim sofas don’t get nearly enough play, in my opinion. They’re so versatile. They can go coastal, cottage, eclectic & bohemian.bluedivider00w0w_2SVieM8aOM_1200x900Fisher-Price Turntable. $35 (Athens)bluedivider01212_iutJoJD8fkT_1200x900Blue & White Ginger Jar Lamps. $60 (Royston) // I’m not a fan of the shade on these, but for $30 a lamp, it’d be pretty easy to switch those shades. I’d go for something like this.bluedivider01616_fZOqvSG7BfG_1200x900Peacock Eggs. $10 (Carnesville) // Oh, how I LOVE Athens’ Ga’s Craigslist.

Moving Photo Outtakes: 01 & 02

I call this one, “Paul, I can see you, man.outtake01
& this is called, “Luke, you’re in the shot.

Moving Again (*Photo Heavy Post*)

We’re moving again. This time, closer in. Well, we hope to be moving again. Our house will be on the market Monday. If y’all know anyone in or around our area looking for a 5 bedroom, 2 bath on 3/4 of an acre, holler at me.

Craigslist Corral: Yellow

We’re getting ready to list our home for the market &, with that, I’ve been doing a lot of dreaming about our future space. I like the pinterest world as much as the next girl – with all the burlap, the linens, the neutrals… but, if I’m honest, the little left of center, the sudden pop of color,  a little throw back, a little vintage? Well, that’s kind of more what catches my eye.  I’m trying to take myself (& my space online) less seriously. In an attempt to do just that, I’m rounding up my local finds. I love to window shop – especially second-hand & handmade. Perhaps, you’d like to take a walk with me through Metro Atl & Athens’ current offerings?

Mid Century Dining Table with 4 Chairs. $125 (Athens)
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Pair of Gold Club Chairs. $100 (Athens, Ga) // $50 eachyellow divider

Vintage Chaise Lounge. $40 (Athens) // moving soon; priced to sell
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Yellow/Gold Club Chair. $40 (Atlanta)

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Set of 3 Bar Stools. $85 (Athens) $85 // made in Italy; rattan

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Pair of Lemon Chairs. $200 (Acworth) // Thomasville

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Little Castle Glider/Rocker. $165 (Kennesaw)

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Original Hermes Miller Eames. $300 (East Cobb, Ga)

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Ceramic Double Gourd Lamps. $80 (Buckhead)

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Hammary Vintage Velvet Lounge Chair. $99 (Marietta)

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Vintage High-Back Chair. $70 (Decatur)

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Off-White with Yellow Trim Bedroom Set. $250 (Cobb County) // Bed frame: Full

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Lenox Melmac Sunbust Dinnerware. $29 (Marietta)


I don’t like to be uncomfortable. My husband can sleep perfectly fine on the surface of the earth with nary a blanket, waking up with a smile & feeling refreshed. Even in my own home, on my own bed, with a fluffy pillow & the feathery down-embrace of my blanket, I can still find myself uncomfortable. Especially if I don’t have my socks. If my feet are cold, it is all over for me. I will not sleep. Cannot sleep. Yes, I have sensory issues, but my obsession goes beyond my senses. I cannot rest if I am uncomfortable.

Because I am obsessed with comfort.

My life isn’t the dream I thought it would be. There are moments are levity. Yes, but also extreme, cascading dives into heartache that border, & at times, dip into & linger in, devastation.  And when I’m there, in that moment, I feel as though I’m destined to drown, choking on deep, deep sadness.

And when these moments happen, I forget the good, the levity. I forget cycle of things; that old truth of what goes up must come down, & what is down, will, eventually, come back up again. I only remember the hurt, & my only effort is in attempting to dismount the dive, & run, full on, away from it.

My aim isn’t always back towards the good. I run blind most of the time, & heavy & hard, towards whatever dream I think will make me more comfortable. And I just keep running further

and further

and further

until all I have left is the memory of what I was running from. It clings to me the way the scent of a restaurant stays in my clothes. Every time I move, the discomfort wafts itself at me, & I remember.

I don’t want to go through hard things.  I don’t want to process them, or experience them. I want to be happy & buoyant & blithe. All the time.

Though I have always sought comfort, there was a period in my life that I didn’t cling to it so desperately. I read this book, When Things Fall Apart, 13 years ago. It was shortly after finding out I was pregnant. I was 20, & single, & it was finals week of my sophomore year of college. I felt like not only had the rug been pulled out from under my feet, the floor itself was disintegrating.

I wanted to run, hard & fast, in any direction that wasn’t the one I was standing in. It was through reading this book, though, that I finally began to realize it was my mindset that needed adjusting, not my circumstances. Pema Chodron helped me understand that though I can’t control my circumstances, I can control how tightly I hold on to them.

She says, “Thinking that we can find some lasting pleasure and avoid pain is what in Buddhism is called samsara, a hopeless cycle that goes round and round endlessly and causes us to suffer greatly. The very first noble truth of the Buddha points out that suffering is inevitable for human beings as long as we believe that things last—that they don’t disintegrate, that they can be counted on to satisfy our hunger for security.”

I thought my freedom would last. The freedom to go & do as I please, the lack of accountability. The security I had in the knowledge that I could leave any relationship that made me uncomfortable. I never, ever imagined myself being responsible for another life.


I felt like the only responsibility I would ever have for another life was to not take it & to not eat it. Suddenly, I was faced with the prospect of having to give it & feed it. It was terrifying, & I was decidedly quite unqualified. I was so afraid, & felt so hopeless, that this really stuck out to me, too:

Hope and fear is a feeling with two sides. As long as there’s one, there’s always the other. This is the root of our pain. In the world of hope and fear, we always have to change the channel, change the temperature, change the music, because something is getting uneasy, something is getting restless, something is beginning to hurt, and we keep looking for alternatives. In a nontheistic state of mind, abandoning hope is an affirmation, the beginning of the beginning.”

I began to see this stage in my life as a beginning, for both my son & myself. I remember writing in my journal that I needed to Abandon Hope. That there really wasn’t an unseen hand to hold, & from that place, I began to settle a bit. I began to accept what was & allow myself to hurt when I was hurting. I was able sit still when I was uncomfortable because I began to believe that life is cyclical, that it wasn’t some huge obstacle I had to keep pushing through in order to find joy.

I didn’t have peace, I’ll be honest in that, but I did have disciplined, intentional thought. There’s a big, long story about my stepping out of nontheism, into agnosticism, & finally into Christianity. But along that path, I am beginning to realize, I have gradually become less disciplined & intentional in my thoughts. I know I have a hand to hold. I know He cares about me. I know He’s steadfast & never takes His eyes off of me, & with that knowledge, I’ve become a spoiled, complaining, comfort-seeking brat.

I want Santa Christ. I want to always be comfortable & always get my way, & never have to consider that it’s my thinking that needs adjusting, not my circumstances. I still believe that life is cyclical, but I fell into the false gospel of comfort. I struggle with thinking that if life isn’t comfortable, then either God isn’t really all good & all powerful, that He doesn’t see what’s going on, or I’m not being good enough for Him to want to make me comfortable.

But the truth is this, To live is Christ & to die is gain, & in my pain, He will never leave me. He will hold me in His hand on the descent, & He will bring joy in the morning. And to complain as I do, even when I’m just grumbling to myself, it solves nothing. Do I do well to be so angry? No, I do not.

As a believer I’ve become lazy in mind. I’ve become a passive participant in life, & I’m grieved that I haven’t really noticed it until now. So, hope & fear are not a feeling with two sides. They’re feelings on opposing sides. With salvation secure, I can be devastated & still have hope. I can be swimming through sadness, & still have an undercurrent of joy. I don’t have to feel like I am going to choke, & when I do feel fear, I have the power stop that thought. It’s incredible that I haven’t taken the time to develop that discipline in my faith.

Just because I am no longer a nontheist, I can still be disciplined & intentional in my thinking. In fact, as a believer, I am commanded to do so in Romans 12:2, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” I don’t have to be conformed. I don’t have to be overwhelmed & want to jump off & run away when life’s levity starts dropping. My sense of overwhelm can be transformed through renewing my mind by focusing on the will of God, & remembering His character… I can stand firm in the fact that He is with me through all of it, that He is good & cannot fail, & all will be used for my good & His glory.

In 2 Corinthians 10, we’re told to take every thought captive. My slipping back into desire for comfort, I can take those restless feelings, those needs to change my situation, those thoughts that whisper “it shouldn’t be this way,” “or it shouldn’t be this hard,” I can capture them. Hold them captive & compare them to truth. It’s empowering, & yet, I’ve lived, now 8 years a believer, & have not celebrated this gift. I’m thankful that His mercies are new every morning & that He’s always teaching me more about myself & growing me to be more like him… even if it’s a little uncomfortable.

assemblage of our hearts

I have these huge dreams that are totally unrelated to mothering, & are just for me. My sweet husband says he believes in me.  Says he thinks I can really make a go of it.  Says if anyone is able, it is me.

And I float.

To this gentle, affirming, inspiring place where I feel full to the brim with his words, and my heart hovers there – drinking in the fertile ventures of my imagination and gasping at the vastness of What Could Be…

But before pen to paper, or finger to key, before brush to palette, or any of these, my thoughts are chased out of my head by those of others.  Bombarding&Banging. Clanging. Eclipsing. Deafening the voice once encouraged.

Words of affirmation do little when the full weight of reality pummels me and all the pieces I know of myself scatter across the floor.  Tears, as genuine and haunting as blood, surge forth as I am choked by a raging guilt mingled with want.

Who are you to think so highly of yourself? That you could possibly birth this gnawing, guttural ache to express yourself?

This. Is. Selfishness.

Let it die.  Give up.  What lies uncovered matters to no one but you.  You are frustrated over worthless endeavours.

Mothering is more important.  These lives are exponentially more valuable than your own.  They are our future.  You are the present, which is, at the moment we’ve read these words, the past.  Pour not from yourself for yourself, but into these, for them.

And in the midst of the chaos of my thoughts being chased away, I am weak.  A fractured vessel. Once full of  lush dreams, rich thoughts & poetry. Inspired. Now, leaking guilty thoughts of Not Qualified for Any.

Not a good enough mother, because Good Mothers don’t mind interruptions. Or lose their patience. Or their tempers. And always place their childrens’ needs(sssss) above their own.

Not a good enough writer, because Good Writers are able to write whenever they find the time, & pick up & leave off with an effortless fluidity wherever they were.

In the midst of this, I tell myself, I have no space for my thoughts in this life, much less room to learn new things. In these moments, I realize that it is a stupid dream – to find My Self again.  This life is a spinning, insurmountable, fortress of Immediate Need, where there is little time for reflection, or savouring that which nourishes.

And then my husband holds me. He freezes the spin, & softens my pace, &  speaks peace into the depths of my ache. It’s in these moments I understand how precisely God planned the assemblage of our hearts.

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