Forsyth Farmer's Market

Claire, Spencer and I   spent  the morning at our local Saturday Farmer's Market. 

It seems from this picture that Walker Farms really loved Claire. She must've made a really good Kale joke or something. 

It's never too early in the morning or late in the summer for a popsicle. 

I bought homemade spinach gnocchi (one of my faves) from the pasta stand and fresh tomatoes and onions for some sauce. 

And look who we ran into! Kara, Lindsay and Tyson the pup. Such a pretty amazing little family.

Who wants to come over and try out the goods?!

Back

Oh, dears. It's been a while. 

The cable guy paid a visit to our house today and we are now up and running with super fancy cable and Wifi in our house. 

I was trying to avoid complaining about not having internet/tv for the last couple of days because really, I never want to be that dependent on something so trivial. In a way, I was enjoying being  able to be somewhat unplugged for a bit, but I have to say, I am excited that it's back because I've had so much to blog about  ever since saying goodbye to KP on Friday at the airport. This little Bushka has been quite busy. 

The weather in Savannah is uncharacteristically wonderful for this time of year and I can already feel fall sort of rolling in. But, maybe it's mostly in my head because it still is about 85 degrees out here.  (It's because I'm just soooo sick of shorts. For goodness sakes!)

Lately there has already been plenty of cooking and eating and unpacking and exploring and laughing and hugging. 

Can you tell if I'm happy to be back or not? 

So far, this quarter is living up to it's great potential-- and it's only day 5!

Total Bum Morning

Oh, California. How I love you. The perma-sun, the floral and salt water smells, the completely acceptable uniform of yoga pants and flip flops all. day. long.  I just never knew the wonders of this state until I said goodbye.

But here I am. Back again. Saying hello for a bit and I could not be happier.

Since I've been back, my days have been very happily go go go, but this morning I am taking some time to just sit with the windows open and my feet on the coffee table enjoying the air of the last few weeks of summer and the speed of lazy mornings like this that fill my soul to overflowing proportions.

If this summer has convinced me of anything, it is that I am so very blessed-- a cliche that is thrown around so easily in such an insanely blessed life such as mine, but something I didn't truly understand nor take the time to understand until now.

I can get in this nasty habit of looking forward or looking backward and wasting time and wasting life. And without even knowing it was happening (or perhaps being oblivious to the signs that guided me here) I find myself in a outrageously sweet time of life where I appreciative all of these crazy transitions and stages.

Fact: I love California.

Fact: I love Georgia.

Fact: I even loved this crazy stretch of a summer in New York City.

YOU GUYS! THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!

I am happy with it all! There is no comparison with these places because I am happy for my amazing friends and family that have known me for years and that I am getting to spend such precious time with now. I am happy for my crazy awesome roommates/family in Savannah that I can't wait to reunite with in a few weeks. And I am even happy with the challenges and the aches of both places that I currently call home.

And I'm scared. Holy Toledo, am I scared of what the future holds for me and this creatively driven, but directionally challenged life but I am just so satisfied with what God has going on today. Today. Just today. That's all I have control of anyway. What a lesson to learn. What a hard lesson to remember.

Now, I'm going to ride my bike down the street and eat a burrito bigger than the size of my face. I mean, that right there is reason enough to love California.

Do you know where I live?

Something funny happened earlier today that on some other day may have upset me but, on this day, it simply made me laugh.

I am currently in the process of trying to figure out how in the world to get about one whole extra suitcase worth of Marc clothes that I didn't start summer with from NYC to Savannah in a few weeks when I go home. (I know, I know-- such a pesky problem to have.)

Anyway, when I was researching all the ways of getting things from point A to point B, I found myself on the UPS website entering in some shipping info like the weight of the boxes and the timeline recquired for the job to get done.

Then the website asked me to enter my address. And for about .8 seconds, I had to think about where I lived. Then, it hit me. Duh. I live at 1**7 Port Carlow! And I proceeded to fill in the rest of the registration with my address.

And when a message popped up that said that the shipping info didn't match the billing info, I felt like a doof. Right. No. I haven't lived their since probably... 5th grade. Nice one, Julia.

Let's try that again: 1**1 Port Carlow.

Again. NOPE. It's been a solid 6 years since we moved from that one.

So then, when that slight mind lapse ended, I started to type in my real address, 3** Pirate Road.

Except...wait... I haven't lived there in 3 years.

(What's scary is that this story is by not even 1% an exaggeration.)

Then, totally perplexed by my own life, I had to literally close my eyes, and sit for about 5 seconds to recall the address that I currently call home. The irony in this, of course, is that in the past year and a half that my parents have lived at that house, I have spent maybe about 4 months there in total. And by this time next year, they won't even be living there either!

By the way, the home that I was starting to develop in Savannah since last September also doesn't count anymore because I moved out of that sucker too. Ha!

So, even though I am technically living in 3 different homes in 3 different states in 3 different corners of the country, I still have to think for a second when I have to write down my own address.

What does this mean?

And how much therapy am I going to need in 15 years because of it?

Oh, geez.

Too much to think about right now.

Nothing a little pie can't fix.