everyone should own a picnic basket.
ours was a wedding gift…a bold and confident leap for the giver…to steer from the obligatory registry list, but indeed a well-appreciated leap. a treasured leap.
its sturdy woven wicker is padded with good insulation. it has hidden straps for its own little collection of plastic cups and plates. and, best of all…it fastens close with thick leather belts and gold buckles–and not the fake kind that look like buckles but really are just pointless decoys hiding easy snaps. they’re real buckles.
our treasured picnic basket stands out among all those gifts and, although it only has two and a half years of beach and backyard picnics to its name, i have great expectations for it and the places it will go. i look forward to the day of tarnished buckles and worn leather…broken weave and scuffed and weathered wicker. i look forward to the day the insulation is seared with the scent of fried chicken and potato chips. because that means many a’ memories…many a’ sunset picnics. many a’ impromtu backyard snacks-on-a-blanket. and, everyone knows…everything tastes better in a picnic basket. even frito lay and lunchables gain a bit of authenticity if they are pulled from an old picnic basket…and magically transformed into something good. something wholesome. maybe even something a bit old-fashioned.

today it was tunafish sandwiches layered with crisp claussen pickles and wrapped and twisted in wax paper. blood-red radishes. ripe peaches. and cold thin mints. all packed up in our real picnic basket and packed into the wagon along with a thick blanket, my camera and two happy girls. we wheeled over sidewalk cracks and dry pavement for two blocks until we reached the big tree next to the still waters of one of our little neighborhood lakes.

and this is what greeted us:

my heart did a little leap as i scolded myself for not doing this more often.

it was beautiful. and quiet. and as i smoothed out the folds in our blanket and unwrapped our lunch treats, i was calmed by the sight of it all and the way it sort of hypnotized the girls. the entire scene–us sitting there on the blanket, unfolding wax paper, eating real food, watching a sweeping egret, listening to sweet little giggles, kicking off our sandles to feel nature’s own blanket of matted dried pine needles and the stiff florida turf we’ve finally become accustomed to. it was storybook.

…and then it was back in the wagon for the trip home.

oh, i love days like this.

s’wonderful.

i’ve been creatively productive lately…and taking a slew of pictures which has just been this absolute blessed satisfaction…

(enter exhibit c:)

…but sometimes, my own little enjoyment of simple things gets lost in the midst.

so, this shall make up for it.

…what i really want to say is…

my favorite part of the day are the bookends:

the first page of an early morning.
the way we are awakened by her hand on our face and warmed by the convection of her body snuggled a little closer to ours.
how the down comforter has been shifted and bunched throughout the night to create this heavy heap of weight that magically fits across all three of us with extra room to tuck.
morning light that trickles through the cracks of the tightly pulled drapes to cast happy shadows on our dusty blue walls and her half-hour hypnotic pre-fully-awakened trance that subdues her otherwise charming sillyness into this perfect morning blend of soft cuddles and silent affection.

hot coffee.
hot showers.
hot griddle.
puddles of buttery swirls in a syrupy lake atop soft, browned french toast.
her somniferous thumbing of puppy’s nubby ear and the accompanied rhythmic suck of that blessed pacifier.

it is the music of my morning and, after a handful of chapters in the middle, my second favorite soon comes…the fellow bookend to a happy morning.

…the closing chapter of bedtime.
hearing the garage door open and brett’s footsteps through the laundry room and our first hug of the day.
catching up.
a cold beer.
watching them play.
a warm bath after a full tummy. and we take turns sitting on the little pink stool next to her tub to watch her turn the spongey pages of her bath book, fill cups and pour them out again, arrange colorful letters that stick to the bath walls into make-believe words. she takes long baths and, although we are happy to engage in play, she’s just as happy to entertain herself in there.

slippered-feet jammies–almost too small but perfect to hug her tiny little body just right.
a book in the rocking chair.
a song.
a prayer.
lying next to her in the dark…and laughing at her attempts to rile us up again.
smiling when she “gets” that it’s not working…and nuzzles right next to us, quietly.
the steady deep breaths of a sleeping baby.
escaping the bed for some alone time.
lamp light.
the nook.
catching up on writing. reading. blogs. cousins. friends.
late-night talks with my sister where we think we’re done, hang up, and call back five minutes later to keep it going.
finally giving in to the heavy eyes.
sliding in to a preheated bed thanks to a warm little cubby.
five minutes of bravo reruns. and then…
…blessed sleep.

and i get to do it every day.

oh, and those in-between chapters aren’t so bad either.

today, we went to the library, checked out books and lingered in the courtyard where she threw pennies into the fountain…and leaves and dirt and grass. …and lily slept quietly in the stroller.

now, all is asleep and i have a moment to ponder life and love and all that good stuff.

leaving you with our week in pictures…

be happy.

…enjoying the random-but-wonderful things.

busy…but still reflective. ~k

my friend, sam.
who is beautiful.
but even more beautiful now…
because her body is the home of a growing miracle.
oh, i am just consumed with the beauty of pregnancy.
and the miracle of a woman’s body in growing, changing, supplying, sustaining.
it is sexy. it is beautiful. it is amazing.

seriously…i have no words for these pictures.

sam…i realized tonight how much i love you…and how very beautiful you are.

for more of sam’s pics…see slideshow here.