Two things...

Two things I’ve observed, pondered and confirmed this weekend. Tan legs really do look better. And my husband seems to know what I need before I do.

My girlfriends and I used to say “tan fat is skinny fat.” You know what I’m talking about. You just somehow seem to feel long and lean when you’ve got a little color on you. It means you’ve been outside, active, alive! Now I never really jumped on the bandwagon of, let’s see how dark it’s humanly possible for me to get. I like to stay in my natural range. Which thanks to a little Native American blood on my Mama’s side, it’s quite easy for me to become a walking Coppertone commercial. But after a job and a hobby that kept me under the sun for more than 200 days out of the year, sunscreen was a necessity not a suggestion. But after beach trips and weekends on the lake, even SPF 50 can’t keep away the tell-tale tan lines. So all that to say, as I got up and slipped on a tank top and shorts this morning I actually noticed my legs. A feature that has never been a favorite of mine, becomes a little more tolerable in the summer :)

As for number 2…

I’ve noticed that in my older days (I’ll be over a quarter of a century this August!), I’m a lot less spontaneous then I thought I once was. Maybe I’ve never been spontaneous. But simply that my life as a traveling college student seemed to be a string of random events, when in actuality I did everything I had dreamed and planned I would do. Therefore, it doesn’t really count as being spontaneous. And now that I’ve (sigh) joined the world of Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 routine, it feels like my days of backpacking weeks at a time, driving across the country and deciding to “swing” by on a whim and visit my friends in Montana, are farther and farther behind me. It’s very easy for me to slip in to comfort, schedule and routine, to come home in the evenings and be done. PJ’s on, legs propped up, glass of wine poured. But Steven will come in, leashes in hand and the dogs dancing around him ready for a walk and I’ll sigh and say I’m too tired and I had a tough workout on my lunch break and I’m just dead on my feet. He doesn’t push me, doesn’t beg, just gives me a kiss and says they’ll be back and heads out. Usually he barely makes it to the garage before I don’t want to be left out and I throw on some shoes, run down to meet him and take a leash and we go. And wouldn’t you know, an unpleasant day that I had decided to accept is long forgotten. We enjoy a twilight walk with no distractions. Talking about our dreams for the future or nothing at all, laughing at our dogs and stretching our legs. Even though deciding to take an evening walk seems minor, it can shift everything inside me to something more pleasant and peaceful.

Sometimes it’s a Saturday. After a long, rough week at work and a Friday night of a little too much wine and he wants to take the bikes out. No baby, I just don’t feel like it. No guilt from him, no pestering, he just kisses me on the head and says he’ll only be gone for a bit. Again, 2.7 seconds and I jump up, run to my room, throw on some shoes and race to meet him outside. And wouldn’t you know, it’ll be my favorite part of the day and I’ll be so thankful I didn’t lie around wasting my few precious days of free time (now I am by no means implying that lying around does not serve its purpose and have it’s appropriate time!) But I remember how much I love being active and outside. I feel alive and clear, I live for it. But funny, that my husband ends up taking me back in that direction. I think he sees what it does inside of me, what it does for my soul. He reminds me what makes me happy. Just another reason why I love him so and a reminder of how beautiful marriage is meant to be.

Here's some pictures from our weekend. Friday night we took the Jeep out and went for a ride and I took some pictures of downtown Rome at twilight. Saturday we took the boat out on the lake and then took an evening bike ride, and today we went out on the River. Oh how I wish Monday would never come...