Two Weeks Notice (PS 92:4)

Two weeks from yesterday, one of the top 5 most interesting men I know (under 40) is coming for a visit. (Before you get bent out of shape, dad, note all the qualifiers in that sentence).

Two weeks from today, I'll get to see a gal-pal I haven't seen in over 7 years while enjoying a bit of the crazy life that is her "normal," and doing good deeds for kids (check out OlympiaPubCrawl Weekend on FB). She's easily one of the most interesting women I know under 40, too.

Of course, I don't seem to know any dull, boring, or uninteresting people - of any age - but that's for another post. 

Two weeks from tomorrow, I'll be on my way to start the next phase of my life.

It's going to be a busy couple of weeks.

Before all that happens, I have to finish packing up my old life. Load it on a truck. Stuff my car with the essentials (after I figure out what those are). I have to deep clean my near-empty apartment. I have to check in with the doctors and the cable company to be sure I haven't got any loose ends. I have to print maps, just in case the electronics fail me en-route. (I do have my grandmother's sense of direction, after all).

I have to bake cookies and a cake. Because I have all the ingredients, and there's really no sense in wasting them. 

Then I get to take those cookies and that cake to friends' and share them. Because I have a lot of visiting to do in the next two weeeks. I get to help a family welcome a much-beloved soldier home from a tour of duty. I get to celebrate Christmas in July with the most fantastic group of foodies around. I get to be the guest of honor at a party I'm throwing. I get to wander by the waterfront. I get to help a friend move. I get to go to a concert. I might even get to a garden.

I'm so excited about my move - and so busy getting ready for it - that I haven't got time to worry (much). But it's okay. Because I know God's got it covered. I get to rely on Him. And I love that. 

For you make me glad by your deeds, Lord; 

I sing for joy at what your hands have done.

-Psalm 92:4

Saturday Night: A Tale of Two Sisters

My sister's wedding (2011). Picture by Michelle Whitehead Photography.

My sister and I, both in our early thirties, both fun-loving, generally happy people, both went out last night. She had a date night. I went to a dinner party.

She tried on dresses and curled her hair. She wanted to wear something that her husband would really appreciate. I donned a costume, dramatic jewelry, and wrenched my hair into old-fashioned braids, just as certain that the details make all the difference.

She made sure the dogs took care of business, tidied up the house, loaded backpacks with clothes, toys, and (of course) the ipad in the car, before locking up and taking the kids to grandma's. I wrestled a carrying-box with soup and bread and cheese and bowls out the door, down the stairs, into the car, then ran upstairs to close and lock the door, thankful that I no longer have a cat named Frog who would have bolted out that open door or taken advantage of the mess I left in the kitchen.

I tried to figure out how to keep soup from sloshing all over my car while I drove. I just wanted there to be something left in the crock-pot when I arrived. She chatted with her kids and cranked up the tunes.

When she reached her destination, she had waiters eager to fulfill her every wish. My friends and I worked together to put the finishing touches on dinner, set the table, and serve each other the treats we'd so carefully prepared.

We talked about jobs and children and coming adventures.

After dinner we enjoyed some drama. My friends and I solved a murder-mystery set on the doomed Titanic. My sister and her husband went to see "Wrath of the Titans." I'm sure doom and  murder were involved.

I was home, in bed, before midnight. I think she was, too. 

The thing is... we both had a great time.

Yes, sometimes I wish I had her life - the kids, the dog (just one, though), the loving husband. I like to think that sometimes she envies the randomness that is mine. However different our lives are, though, we share a love for celebrating life, making the most of every little thing. I love that about us.