Birthday Joy ain't over, 'til there's flowers.

Do you know this about me?

Flowers bring me massive joy.

 As does a table full of pretty food, 

  ready for people, 

gathered,

 connecting,

smiling,

being.

Knowing this about me,

this very special friend and housemate invited a wide variety of my friends over,

to wrap my birthweek up with a house ringing with laughter, 
and all of the things I love.

Birthday Joy.

There were other things that made this day joyful.

First, there were the lovely men who

took care of the fact that my car was sitting in the driveway with a tire that --despite the joy of the event--was feeling rather deflated.

They [and a bunch of others I didn't get to document]

worked very hard.

Then, 

 there was the prettiest lemon cake by this pretty lady,

 with wishes for a new year,

and,

I'm not sure what.

But, it was Joy, and joyful.

I'm grateful friends,

for all of it, and for all of you.

Adaptability is my greatest strength

I'm not even kidding.

I took a strengths test, and that's what it said.

It's a good thing too, because my life is constantly changing.

First Emily and Aden decide to move an hour away, 

and then they decide to have a very cute baby.  

Then, Amy and Caleb realize they don't want to live without each other, and they go and get hitched.

Luckily for me, even in the midst of all this change, they still like to have me around.  I think they know that the alternative is one change I would not be willing to accept, despite my 'strength'.

It's because they are my Truth-tellers, 

and they help me live in Strength.

So, using my birthday as an excuse, we gathered for a day at the nearest beach for sand dwelling in bathing suits, and a picnic.

We packed the car with everything we needed, but, the day being cloudy with threats of rainy, we took adaptability by the throat, and were completely satisfied without even looking at the sand.

Instead, we looked at

a spread of yummy snacks,

the aforementioned very cute baby,

our grillmasters,

and a good, easy conversation 

between old friends.

Basically,
we just had fun.

Happy  Birthday to me, indeed.

Let's talk about Joy.

Birthday Joy, to be specific.

I have a Birthday Joy policy, and the policy is this:

If you made it through another year, 

you should probably celebrate it.

Luckily, I have people around me who agree.

Hence, my Birthday Eve was kicked off with a birthday message in my bathroom from Sara (the most creative birthday celebration planner I've ever known...) when I woke up,

and dinner with these beautiful, strong, and special-to-me women:

We gathered at the Autoport,

and my heart rested joyfully in the bringing-us-all-together.

Birthday Joy is about bringing people together.

These friends gifted me,

with one of the most amazing gifts I've ever been given:

A book, full of messages from a variety of people, telling me what they love and appreciate about me, wishing me joy in the year to come.  A book, reminding me that I have a purpose in the lives of those I know and love.

Birthday Joy is knowing your life is invested well.

The next morning I awoke to a house full of decoration by Sara and meaningfully-placed gifts by gift fairies.  

Birthday Joy involves balloons.

Everywhere.

I went to school with treats, and my class indulged me in my birthday delight, and then I sat in the sunshine with God,

and thanked Him.

Birthday Joy is knowing that God has given you Life, 

to live, whole and holy.

Later, I spent the afternoon with Heather and the girls, at the pool.

Birthday Joy involves lounging with people who know you and your lounging language.

Then, it was time for a delicious Birthday dinner at the Otto's we all love.  [Kate loves it so much, she couldn't wait to get started...]

Birthday Joy must involve food.

When we were joyfully full, 

we  made our way home to welcome more friends

for a Birthday movie and popcorn.

Just because.

Birthday Joy.  Watching a movie with fun people when you should probably be going to bed.

 Then there was cake that reminded me of my childhood, 

 since it was the kind of cake my 

Grandmother used to serve at Sunday dinner.

Birthday Joy remembers warm moments from your childhood.  

That night I went to bed, feeling loved and cared for by good friends, and looking forward to more good times, because:

Birthday Joy should continue for at least a week!!

When you don't even try

 Remember these beauties?

Well,

 they're dead.

[Don't ask me to talk about it, it's too painful.]

Only this scraggly mint has survived,

but in the words of my 'expert',

'mint can survive anything'.

Even me.

My hope has turned to discouraged indifference.  My mint will probably prove that expert wrong.

Now I sit on my deck in some kind of mournful watch, as if on the edge of the hospital bed, just waiting for the end.  

I usually bring a book.

Today, however, something caught my eye, sparkling in a forgotten corner.

This:

an empty pot, left for dead since last summer.

  Once the beauty inside of it had disappeared, I pushed the pot off to the side of the deck, and pretended it didn't exist.  

Too depressed to deal with it.

So, today, I sat next to it, and looked at it.  Really looked at it, for the first time in awhile.

You see, I'd been aware that the pot was changing, but only out of the corner of my eye.  I had put it into the category of 'avoid at all cost, it's too painful otherwise', and had blocked it from my real vision.

And today as I sat and stared into it, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before.  

And then I realized:

How often in life we do the very same thing.

Push something out of the way, because we believe on some level that we have failed it, and can only avoid it from here on out, because the alternative is to either admit defeat or try again, and neither one feels possible. And, because we're terribly terribly afraid of what it is we'll find, if we were to look closely again.

 We stick it off to the side, and sit in a cloud of indecision regarding what to do with it.  We get so good at not dealing with it, we can't even let ourselves see that our lack of decision has become a decision anyway. 

And, in the meantime,
we miss what's growing before our very eyes:

Something far more interesting than anything we could ever have intended for ourselves.  

Looking into that pot, I realized that even when I wasn't trying, and even when I didn't think I deserved it or that I could accomplish it, something grew anyway.

And, it's neat.

That's grace.  When I didn't even try.

[P. S. Those of you waiting for birthday blogs,
they're on their way!!]

A weekend, HOL style

You've met this friend before, 

so by now you know that my time with her and her darling is always full.

It's because Lisa is the world's best event specialist, in that she knows how to take any old weekend and turn it into the most restful, joyful, blissful, perfection.

This summer's H-O-L-ing  [Hash Out Life -ing] was no different.

It started with dinner at Radegast,

a Brooklyn 'Biergarten', where we sat in a long hall at long tables,

and had a bit of beer

[accompanied by the variety of German meat that Geoff and I rounded up at the grill in the back of the hall].

When we had exhausted our beer and meat quota, 

we walked in the summer night to find this ice cream truck,

for flavors like earl grey tea and hazelnut.

[For flavors like: delicious.]

Since the next day promised to be HOT, in that 'heat advisory' kind of way, we bundled ourselves into the car with food and drink, and headed into the country.

Our destination was this beast of a house,

with a bit of a view:

Poised on the brink of the Atlantic, the house belongs to Lisa's boss, who graciously allowed Lisa's co-worker to call it hers during the week he was away, who--in turn--graciously allowed us to call it ours for the day.

Call it ours we did.

[Even Frankie got in on the action, as evidenced by this rare shot of 'Lauren & Frankie have a moment']

Our first order of business was to eat our yummy lunch.

 Then these kids played a bit of bocce,

 [with much enthusiasm]

while I scuttled myself away to a reading-fest 

on a perfectly placed reading bench.

[Call me the happiest girl.]

The rest of the day included

grass surfing,

 celebrity shots,

 and glorious napping.

My own particular napping occurred 

in this luxurious hammock of peace,

which only served to solidify my status of 'perfectly pleased'.

You see, perfection in traditional HOL style includes

 quiet reflection,

silly giggly fun,

good conversation,

 being together,

and beauty.

Our traditions followed us as the sun set.  

We pointed ourselves back toward the city, 

for a car ride of deep music listening [tradition], 

life hashing [tradition], 

and a night of lounging [tradition] 

replete with pizza [tradition...during summer HOL at least].

The next morning found me 

on the balcony in early morning breeze

[tradition: Lauren wakes up HOURS before anyone else, 

dog included...], 

before we headed out for breakfast.

 In an unprecedented HOL move, 

we broke tradition and attended a new source of morning time stomach and soul nourishment,

 which we found to be sufficient, 

but lacking much of what we love about our usual Henri.

[Note to all of us: Let's not break tradition again?]

Afterward, we went to church for Truth and worship,

 hitting our other favorite spot on the way home, 

for iced refreshment [Yup--].

 [Summer tradition!!!!]

Then, our time running short,

Frankie helped me as I opened my birthday gift

[which helped to remind me: It's my birthweek!].

Then it was time to hop on a bus, 

and reflect on all the places this friend & I have trod, 

in our hearts and with these feet, together.

We might only have 3 weekends a year,

but a weekend in true HOL style lives on forever.

[Tradition!]