Thoughts from Gus.

Hi friends,

Do you know what my life is like right now? DO YOU EVEN KNOW?

You couldn't possibly.

The tiny human is now mobile. Hide your valuables (and your nub tails, if you have them). This is a terrifying time to be alive.

Sniffs and licks,


February hike.

It was a balmy 57 degrees over here on Sunday, so we set out on a hike in the nearby woods after church. It was a far cry from this hike we took about a year ago, for so many reasons (not the least of which is the size of my bladder). Hugo has such a little personality these days, and we love seeing it come out.

Also, at his appointment on Friday, the vet told us Gus could stand to lose a few pounds, so we're seeing more hikes in his future. Day one of his weight loss journey, and he's probably (maybe?) up to the challenge.


Bubbles for a Tuesday night.

Given some work priorities, I spent the night in the city on Tuesday - my first night away from Hugo in the whole of his existence. Which is not a dramatic thing, I realize. It must be done, sooner or later; and if it must be done, do it with style, I say.

So I texted an old friend (hi, CC!) and we met up for drinks in the lobby of the Dream Downtown before heading over to Rana for dinner. I texted this photo to Blake and told him I felt like a real Manhattan twenty-something again. Minus the five-pound breast pump in my bag.

Glamour. My life is full of glamour.


First annual Valentine's Day brunch.

Growing up, my mother always had a really nice way of making holidays special. Tradition surrounded everything, and our celebrations were grounding for all of us. In many ways, they were opportunities to stop, reflect and take note of how much we had to be thankful for. It's a habit that I want to create for Hugo, also.

And so we gathered around the table for our first annual Valentine's Day brunch - just our family of three (and Gus). There were heart-shaped waffles, a bowl brimming with fresh strawberries, a dozen roses and three cards scribbled with messages of love. The best start to a tradition in our little yellow house by the river.


Saturday morning.

with a boy and his dog.
or a dog and his boy.
depending on who you're asking. 


Snow day.

Seems winter officially woke up over the last week and decided to grace us with her very snowy presence.

Given the state of the roads, we had our monkey home with us all day yesterday, wreaking havoc in the living room. He's recently decided that the stone fireplace is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he must touch it as frequently as possible. Especially the area with the protruding metal piece. He's also very interested in cords, but really only those attached to large, heavy objects, like lamps.

And while I can't say the same for Gus (aka. The Creature Who Fears All Noise-Making Toys), I'm totally on board with this mess. The day I no longer need to hide the remotes will be a sad day, indeed.


For a table.

On this sixth day of February, I took myself out for an hour, picking up a few little things along the way: a red lipstick, Valentine's Day cards for the boys in my life and blooms for the table. When I am 92, these are the things that will still make me smile.



 ^^for beauty in the mess.^^
 ^^for a bulldog, loyal to a fault.^^
 ^^for food on the table, for chili on cold days.^^
 ^^for dark mornings, a breath before the busyness.^^
 ^^for clean floors, new friends, sunny skies and a smile behind a binkie.^^
 ^^for rainy walks in Little Italy.^^
^^for a boy on a scooter with the softest blond hair.^^