Summer Wishlist

Since this summer for us is all about airstreaming, traveling, exploring, and general adventuring, the right mix of flowy bohemian-wear, stylish on-the-go accessories (like a fanny pack duh), and a little whimsy and playfulness top my list of summertime cravings this year.  How about you? 1. Novella Royale Janis Bells

2. Handwoven Natural Cotton Hammock From Etsy

3. Stella McCartney Little Girls Swim Suit (for the little one!  Isn't this precious??)

4. Need Supply Co. Samar Swim Suit (don't worry it has a sexy back..)

5. Tattly Temporary Tattoos (just for some fun)

6. Claire's Hair Chalk (more fun)

7. American Apparel Denim Fanny Pack (coulda really used this at Disney World!)

8. Fujifilm Instax Mini 8 Instant Film Camera

9. Sabah Shoes (these are gorgeous hand-made leather slippers engineered for travel!)

Most of these glories ,and many more needful things, are ready and waiting in our Pilgrim Shop!

Minimalism and True Riches


I'm so happy I came across this. I was searching for tips on blogging and found an article on The Minimalists blog. They had some great points on successful blogging but even better than those is this video of their Tedx Talk, telling their story of pursuing happiness and finding minimalism, leading them to finally feeling rich. So, to follow at least one of their blogging tips- posting regularly- I give you, The Minimalists Ted Talk. Prepare to be inspired. [youtube]


When I found myself crying in the bathtub listening to Some Nights by Fun, I felt a strange mix of fear, power and pain. I tried to pinpoint the reason I was crying. I realized it was because I can't stop fighting. And I'm so tired. I want to give up so bad right now. I want to rest. But I know I won't stop fighting. I just won't. I can't. I'm gonna kick and scream for a moment, lose all hope and vision for a short while and then slap some water on my face, look in the mirror and pull my boot straps up. This is the real raw honest truth. This shit is not easy. No matter what you do. Life is not easy. And if you push back against anything, try and make a change, do something great, care, it gets even harder. It feels like we're trying to lift the world and move it. All of the details involved in just getting moved into the airstream and heading out loom over us like a mountain. So many unknowns, mistakes, our fingers pointing at ourselves over and over, as we bulldoze through everything in our path, even some people, for which I deeply ache. But to the part of me waving the white flag, head down, the stronger part of me is saying gently, you know you're not gonna do that. And I know I'm not. Later I got to talk to a dear friend on the phone, the kind of friend who you can be honest with and say "not so good" to when they say "how are you?"and she pointed me to a spot-on analogy for the situation. A fellow mother, she reminded me of that pivotal and painful part of labor when you are dilating from 8 to 10 cm, before you are ready to push, which is called transition. I easily recalled that excruciating period that preceded the most euphoric and transcendent moment of my life when I first held my baby girl. I thought I couldn't do it. I tried to climb out of the large tub like I could just give up and go home. But then, I did it. Wow, I did it. I will never cease to be proud of and empowered by those hours of labor and delivery. Similarly, something is being birthed in our lives right now. It's grown for months inside of us and now it's time. We've labored and labored and it's about to be here. I can tell that we are right smack in the middle of transition because I've lost the vision and I feel like giving up, sure I simply cannot do this. But once I see where we are, I know we're almost there. It won't be much longer now. So I'll continue to put one foot in front of the other. I've done it before and I can do it again.

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Texas Our Texas

As we drove across the state line and the weather turned from a little chilly to dreamy, I was struck by the fact that you can just get in the car and then all the sudden you can be somewhere else.  You just have to wait a few hours and then there you are.  I felt this way too when we went to France.  We feel so stuck in our bubble all of the time and these other places just seem like wonderful ideas or beautiful fantasy worlds, but then you travel and realize that they are actual places that exist all of the time and technically, can be visited at any time.  Realistically of course, it takes precious time and money, but technically, they are there all of the time, life happening, with or without you.  You get my point.  Or maybe I sound like I'm stoned.  I'm not. Anyway, this particular time that we transported out of our bubble, we were driving to Texas to buy a vintage travel trailer.  We had one picked out and had been corresponding with the seller.  Without seeing it in person, I was certain it was the one.  It was not.  No, no, it certainly was not.  People really use the words "everything works" loosely when trying to sell a travel trailer.  So, we roamed the great state, and craigslist, for a few days longer, enjoying time with family we don't often see, and the perfect fall weather and wide open spaces of central Texas.  With no luck, we were about to call it quits and head back to Nashville, when we stopped to see just one more.  Tired but pushing through, we hopped out, looked it over, and suddenly heard ourselves say "we'll take it".  Just like that, we were carefully and nervously pulling away a 1973 Airstream Sovereign.  It was gutted but "everything worked" (again, that was a stretch, as we would find out slowly).  We took it back to my dad's to work on a few technical details before towing it back to N-ville.  We got her home, slowly but surely.

In the last few hours on the road, pulling up to Aaron's parents' house, and crashing in our little temporary room upstairs, sounded like paradise.  It was such a long trip and we were so tired.  Not long after we were refueled with sleep, however, we began to hear the faint call of the road once again.  Staring out the window, feeling the tug to get lost.  So, we're building and waiting, til that glorious day that we re-hitch our silver bullet and set sail once again.  It won't be long now.


My Aunt and Uncle, Betsy and Chris Hoover's incredible house _MG_2355 _MG_2356 _MG_2360

One of Chris's pieces

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We weren't really hitch-hiking, just photo op-ing, but this guy really did stop!  How nice :)

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The night before last, I was sitting up in my bed holding my daughter in my arms and watching her sleep. She had been a little sick that evening and it seemed that laying down flat made her nauseous, so I determined to hold her until I became too tired and had to go to sleep myself. As the clock approached midnight, turning the day from December 8th to the 9th, I couldn't help but feel that this was the perfect way to ring in my 29th birthday. Of course, I hate for my baby to be sick, but there was just something beautiful about the stillness of this simple mothering moment. I felt like a soldier. I felt strong and wise. I felt like an adult. And I felt thankful. So thankful. Thankful for 29 years on the earth. Thankful that maybe I've learned some things. Thankful for my family. Thankful for where I've been and what lies ahead. Then i looked at myself and began to observe. Who am I right now? How do I respond to things? What do I do with my time? Am I patient? Am I loving well? As I evaluated what i saw, I really didn't have any great epiphany. I just observed. And what I observed was… I'm 29. I'm kind of mature, kind of not. I'm doing well in some areas, growing in others. As I sat there in the dark, I felt fine to just be. To be who I am, where I am, right now. My everything let out a sigh. The angel in my arms stirred and sniffled. I looked at her perfect face, her slow peaceful breathing, and felt another wave of incredible thankfulness. That moment was all I had and all that mattered. I breathed it in, soaked it up, consumed it every way that I could. There was absolutely nowhere else I would've rather been. 29, I think i'm gonna like you. IMG_5929.JPG