I’m hesitant to say I’m in love with my life. I might jinx it. But I am. From the rocky path that doubles as a French drain, to the deck for barbecuing that only exists in my imagination, to the two baby longleaf pines we planted today—it’s all gravy, baby.
Speaking of gravy, I made some. The chicken-fried steak leftovers demanded it, and you know how I am with sauces—I can’t get enough. I spooned it straight, no chaser.
What a difference a month makes. When I first learned that we had to remove the largest tree and two others that were threatening the house, I felt uprooted. I didn’t want to let go. Now I have plants, flowers, bushes, and a birdbath that bring butterflies and birds by the dozen. I’m out there daily—watering, planting a few seeds, or filling the birdbath—and the transformation from then to now makes me happy.
I spoke with my Spanish partner, David, today. Have we really known each other for a year already? Maybe. Either way, I only get part of his time—Evelyn usually grabs the phone to show him our bunny (“conejo”) or the oversized spider (“araña”), which made him shudder all the way from Costa Rica. He picked an orange-like fruit from his yard and taught Evelyn that sweet is dulce. He’s a kind man, and I’m grateful for the kinship. Someday, we’ll have to visit him.
It’s week two of Evelyn’s horse-riding lessons. Her teacher, Aubrey, is a 16-year-old high schooler whose passion is training and who dreams of a career teaching others to ride. I forgot to mention that she offered to lease her horse to me. I don’t know what that would look like—cost, schedule, frequency—but I’ll ask more tomorrow. As much as I’d love a horse, the cost of fencing, a barn, tack, food, and vet bills makes it unrealistic. So, forming a relationship and paying a fraction of all that is the next best thing.
Meanwhile, JP Crawford hit a grand slam, and Cal Raleigh knocked one more home run to push him past Ken Griffey Jr.’s record.
And then, something different: I watched Charlie Kirk’s wife speak at his funeral—all thirty minutes of it. With the domino effect his death has had in our country, I was curious to hear from the woman who knew him best. I don’t know why I was surprised by her gentle, loving words and her forgiveness of her husband’s killer. Though her values differ from mine, she was vulnerable, kind, and seemed genuine in her mission.
Still, I’m hesitant. My own experiences with church and religion—peer pressure, bullying, rejection when I needed love—pushed me far away. That’s why I’m skeptical. And yet, I’m cautiously hopeful that her leadership might bring something good for our country. Hesitantly optimistic.
And with that, I’ll head into my evening. Houston is closing in on our five-run lead, and I hope we don’t answer their knock.
Thanks for popping by!
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 