joint shower

In February, I got a call from Mr. F to announce his sister's engagement!  Her happy news gave me the courage to finally call a doctor and find out if I was pregnant.  She was looking forward to a summer wedding and my suspicions about my growing belly led me to believe that I'd be giving birth around the same time.  The next day the doctor verified my pregnancy and our family has been in full-on celebration/planning mode since!

Sister is marrying a wonderful guy from New Zealand in a a few weeks and moving there shortly thereafter.  The wedding planning period has been extremely short but everything is coming together famously.  We were even able to cram in a joint shower last weekend in Florida to celebrate her wedding and our coming baby.

I wish I could explain how amazing that day was.  We were surrounded by an incredible group of women who spoiled us completely.  It was such a treat to feel everyone's love and support of our respective milestones.  The morning started with a brunch of quiches, bruschetta, and a smorgasbord of delicious iced beverages.  I got to catch up with friends from our days living there and have some much needed conversations about motherhood.  It was refreshing and made me feel so much better about the daunting task of raising a child.

After our meal, we opened gifts and the chatting continued.  I am still processing this group's generosity.  We had asked them to attend two showers at once and they gave to both of us liberally.   I am definitely taking stock and rethinking my gift giving.

My mother in law happens to be a master quilter.  She doesn't refer to herself as such, but I assure you, she is.  Amid a heavy travel schedule this spring and planning Sister's wedding, she somehow managed to make a quilt for Sister and her fiancé and for baby girl.  

I had daydreamed about what this quilt would look like and it is even more amazing than I had hoped!  It looks like a quilt my great grandmother would have made and is the perfect size for indoor picnics and cuddle sessions.  To top it off, the backer fabric looks just like the wallpaper I've hand painted in the nursery.  (..which I still need to show you...)

Isn't she beautiful?!  I often feel like she's the Diana Barry to my more Anne complexion.  Where I am fair, sister has these stunningly dark features that I envy.  And that smile?  Yeah, we've been seeing it a LOT since her engagement.  Can't wait to see her smile at the wedding!

To top it off it was my birthday.  I got to celebrate my sister and daughter in the morning and eat cake in the evening!  How great is that?!

A big thank you to everyone who came!  You are wonderful!  And an even bigger thank you to Mom for putting this shindig together.  I'm so grateful we got to share those memories together before Sister moves overseas.

beachcombing

My great uncle kept a house on the Oregon Coast.  For about a decade, we would trek out there during the summers and stay for about a week.  It was the highlight of every summer.  The Oregon Coast is a magical place, with rugged cliffs, wild pines, and cold, damp air.  Only there would you need warm clothing in August and be grateful for a cup of cocoa and a warm fire.  

While I hunted down book stores, two of my favorites are still in those coastal communities, my Nonny would be walking the beach.   He would wake hours before any of us even thought of consciousness, trolling the coast for precious agates, sand dollars, and shells.  We would bring home bags of them every summer, which my mom still has many of in the basement of my childhood house.  She uses them in decorating, filling shallow wide bowls with them, nestling candles in them, or leaving the perfect heart shaped rock on their dresser.

Over Christmas, Nonny allowed the rest of us to go with him.  We didn't go nearly as early as our Oregon summer days and the Atlantic doesn't offer agates like the Pacific does.  But we found shell after beautiful shell.  I loved watching my athletic mother leave us all in her trail as she walked gingerly over the wet sand.  I similarly loved witnessing the childlike enthusiasm of my father over each treasure he found.  I'm not sure if it's the result of him growing up in the desert or just his deep seeded love of the ocean, but he never grows tired of his combs.  

I brought home my own assortment of shells.  I even had a rock stashed in the pocket of that pink half-zip until about a month ago.  One day, I went for a walk.  When I tried to put my keys in the pocket, I found a shell waiting for me.  It was the perfect reminder of some wonderful days with my parents.

beach life

As you're reading this, we're on our way back here.  Life has been busy lately.  Really busy, and kind of hard.  About a week ago, I called Mr. F at work and told him I needed the ocean.  He agreed, requested a couple of days off, and the next thing we knew, we were planning on a long weekend vacation.

These photos are from Christmas.  My parents drove down from the D, picked us up in Atlanta, and the four of drove down to Florida to join Mr. F's parents for the holiday season.  On Christmas morning, the six of us and the two dogs got up relatively early and went for a long walk on the beach.  The tide was low, perfect for beachcombing.   This might be my new favorite Christmas tradition.  All of the family together at our happy place. 

I have plans to spend hours on this beach this weekend.  Walking endlessly, listening to the crash of the waves, my thoughts, and maybe a few NPR podcasts.  Goodbye real life, hello oceans!