Rug revival

Let's talk about our recent update, shall we? Or rather, let's just show pictures (but you knew I meant that, right?):

Pretty easy to see the difference. This, friends, is why I adore Ross. We bought the original rug at Target and love that it's squishy and soft... but it was just too small. Funny how that tiny rug made our tiny kitchen look even smaller! But that wasn't the biggest flaw...

Cue the collective "ewww"'s. This bad boy was not machine washable (and by "bad", I mean "disgusting", but maybe that was clear), and all my attempts to keep it clean were laughable. So when I stumbled upon this washing-machine friendly and slightly bigger rug in Ross, I hugged and and whispered sweet nothings into its, um, pile. Here he is again: 

Ahh. Much better. I clearly need new dish towels now though... and man, oh man how I wish I was allowed to paint those cabinets. Cabinets must be the renters' bane. Ideas on those?

Lamp lovin

We love our little apartment. Really, we do. Buuut (picture me covering it's tiny little ears), it has it's flaws--not the least of which is the fact that there is no lighting in the living area.

Fortunately we managed to pick up not one but two floor lamps along the way. Here they are in all their glory (lamp shades removed because I forgot to take a decent "before" picture... and let's just pretend that room is clean, shall we?):

The navy lamp was picked up from a donation tent at our alma mater (Point Loma Nazarene University, woot!) at the end of the school year. The silver was given to me by a department at PLNU that was renovating. Needless to say, they were mismatched and very... um... loved.

I'd heard a lot about the magical powers of Oil-Rubbed Bronze spray paint (who hasn't?!) and I was super excited to give it a go. So, I picked up a can of Rustoleum ORB (with built in primer--PUMPED).

I removed the shades and wiped down the lamps. I put the cords in a bag and taped up the rest of the cord. I didn't really care if the inside of the top lips were painted or not, since the shades would conceal it, but I did want to protect all that engineering schtuff in there (can you tell I'm an expert?), so I taped that off.

4ish thin and semi-even coats (I'm lazy and impatient, have you noticed?) and a few hours later, my poor sad lamps were happy and young and carefree again!

Lemme tell you... oil-rubbed bronze is exactly what it's cracked up to be. I may have done a little dance before bringing them back inside. I had always heard it described as a sort of semi-shiny black, but it looks more like a really really dark brown with a teensy bit of sparkle.

Notes to myself for next time:

• This stuff SMELLS. Buy a mask. Maybe buy extras for the neighbors.
• If you're not wearing shoes (which, let's be honest, I'm not unless I have to be), make sure to wear socks that can be ruined... and be ready to stick. to. everything.
• Shake that spray paint can well! And often! And for long periods of time! The stories of goopy, drippy paint are true... and avoidable.
• One can baaarely covered both lamps. Buy more than you think you need--if you don't use it all you have an excuse to start a new project. ;)

Not bad for a couple of free lamps, eh? Is it any wonder I have "So This is Love" stuck in my head?

In memory

Dear husband,

Four years ago, a tragedy occurred and suddenly your dad was gone. I know you think of that day more than you mention, and I'm sure you mention it less than you want to. I can only imagine how hard it must be to live in that space where you aren't sure if you want to remember or forget.

That day, our lives were changed forever. The following weeks and months and years were fraught with despair, hope, and learning how to keep on going. It hurts to dig into those memories but it fills me with a keen sense of overwhelming gratefulness to look back and see how God's presence was holding us up.

During that time I watched as people I had rarely heard mention of pulled you aside to tell you stories and ask how they could help. I remember how much FOOD there was at the memorial service. I saw the healing continue years later when you spoke in church, and the outpouring of support and the sense of solidarity that followed.

We redefined a lot of words four years ago, like "grief" and "mourning". What had been abstract concepts became very real, and then they threatened to be the only reality. But we also learned the meaning of God's peace, hope, and faithfulness, and you refused to be crushed.

Today, you are filled with the joy of the Lord.

Today, you are closer to your family.

Today, you know that you are stronger than you would have believed.

Today, you are the very image of restoration, hope, and renewed life.

You have touched lives with your story and your perseverance, Trev, and I am blessed by you every single day. I miss your dad, and I'll always wish I could have had the chance to get to know him better, but I'm thankful for the times I had with him and thankful for the memories you've shared with me. I have no doubt that he would be so proud of the man, husband, brother, uncle and friend you are today.

Ninth of July

So this post is a bit delayed (whoops), but I can't resist sharing.

Because we were at Family Camp over Independence Day, we didn't really celebrate the 4th of July in the traditional sense--and I'm BIG on fireworks, hot dogs and the like, so this was a bummer--but it made receiving this text from my husband all the more sweet:

"It's America night! Since we didn't celebrate the 4th properly we're giving it another go!

We're having hot dogs and chips and coke with a double feature of Independence Day and The Patriot."

Um, yes, this is my life. I told you he was the best! And the night was all it promised to be. (Note the patriotic shirts.)

Family camp

There is a place that holds a very special place in my heart, nestled up near Yosemite, called Camp Sugar Pine. (Precious, no?) Every year, our church district--Central Cal Nazarenes, woot!--gathers there for a week. Filled to the brim with sports, games, quality chats, worship and sermons, and catching up with friends and family... basically everything my little heart desires.

This year was my first as a grown married woman (we couldn't make it last year due to brand spankin new jobs), and it was just incredible. (Updated post to come once I get the basketball pictures uploaded...)

On the way home we stopped at this place called Bravo Farms. Um, this place is the coolest. How do I begin to describe it? It's a restaurant, complete with a tree house, a petting zoo, a mini golf course, an apple-picking train ride, and a bounce house:

Saturday reflections

Things I'm loving this week:

1. This list of 10 thrifting tips.

2. The incredible Jessica Rey and her presentation on modesty and the bikini. 

3. Brookside's dark chocolate acai pieces. Oh my.


Things I'm grateful for this week:

1. Movie exchanges with friends.

2. Pep talks from my husband. (He's the absolute best.)

3. Our engagement and wedding picture shutterfly books.


Things I want to try:

1. This DIY paint chip cityscape art.

2. This gradient nail art.

3. Making some sort of yearbook for our first year of marriage, like these (from my all-time favorite blog), or this one.

His name is Ender Wiggin

It's time to introduce someone very important. Someone near and dear to our hearts. Someone who would no doubt be very angry he hadn't yet been introduced, if he had any awareness of this blog.

His name is Ender Wiggin, the destroyer of worlds, and he is our cat.

He is the best cat ever. We named him after Orson Scott Card's book (soon to be movie--mixed feelings on that) Ender's Game. (Hopefully you'd figured that out. If not, go read it!)

Ender is sweet and cuddly when he wants to be...

    

...completely vicious when he wants to be (all in good fun, usually)...

 ...and acts like a dog more than a cat (we're talking tail-chasing and fetch-playing). He's also excellent birth control:

Trev & I are obsessed. I feel sorry for my instagram followers sometimes. But really, can you blame me?

My men

Yesterday was a big day, the culmination of Father's Day and our first marriage anniversary. What a perfect chance to reflect on the two men I love more than anything in this world! Obviously I spent the better part of the day tearing up, because that's what I do best.

My dad: there is no one in my life who has had more of an influence on the person I am today. My love of being frugal, chewing only half a stick of gum at a time, obsessively watching 24, the necessity of popcorn with movie nights... all due to him. No one can make a better hot dog, give better advice, or make me laugh harder than he does. Without his example of what an encouraging, supportive, God-fearing husband should look like, I don't think I ever would have been brave enough to expect the bar to be so high for my future husband.

My husband: everything I ever thought to look for in a man, and then some. I am beyond grateful that Trevor--who without a doubt could have dated any girl he set his mind on--picked me 7+ years ago, and that even as time goes on, the romance comes and goes  in waves, and he learns more and more about all of my (many many) flaws, he continues to pick me on a daily basis. He is my very best friend and my definition of home.