I’m attracted to risk. Not the 90’s board game where you attempt world domination, but the daring kind. The step-off-the-edge, free-fall, stomach-dropping kind. Especially in relationships. But equally important is being caught afterward — the security, the relational tether, the sense that the risk has a cushy, spring-loaded bottom.
After two straight days of friends and family filtering through to play card games, eat meals, and swim, I feel full in the best way. The need for closeness and community feels commune-level right now. The ease of shared dinners, the multi-day rhythm of it all, the passing waves through windows as we drive by each other’s houses. The casual invites: burgers tonight on Dave’s birthday grill, pork tacos next door on Monday.
I’m feeling the love in the quieter moments, too. Archie is sprawled across the front porch like he’s actually doing something. The cats are locked onto a cardinal flitting between the bird bath and feeder. Maria and Tim’s dog is belly-down in the dirt pile I still haven’t spread. The bees are building this strange, impressive seven-inch tube, and a frog is croaking like it’s his final chance to find a girlfriend before sundown.
And then there are the hummingbirds — tiny gray blurs ricocheting through the trees, squeaking at each other with shocking intensity as they defend the feeders like hopped up gladiators.
Honestly, outside of a group of professional organizers and cleaners showing up unannounced to deep clean every closet and chaotic drawer in my house, I’m not sure how this weekend could improve.
Next up is playing Super Mario Wonder with Dave and Evelyn, and tomorrow we’ll head to the Center for Puppetry Arts after visiting Dave’s dad and sister in Atlanta.
I hope your weekend feels restful, connected, and a little bit full too.
Love,
Jaclynn