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: