Dana Burland

My sweet, first friend from Pennsylvania, running partner, bridesmaid, career advice swapper, and all around life cheerleader, Jill got married to equally fantastic Dave this past weekend. I can't talk about it or I'll cry. I'm a wedding cryer now, did you know that about me? And not an eyes-welling-up-gently, but sobbing when it's not even really appropriate. I simply cannot be within a mile of someone who I love having the happiest day and looking so beautiful and being showered by amazing life-committing vows from someone else who loves them, as their vows stated: in every lifetime . You're crying a little now too, aren't you? Anyway. I only avoided needing Ben to hold a beach towel under my eyes because my dear, sweet, lovely, wonderful friend Jill asked me to read a passage during the ceremony. I'm simultaneously forever honored, grateful it kept me emotionally in check and still in a state of panic for needing to speak publicly while emotional.  The re...

C, You’re 4 today. 4 whole years of growth and change and new daycare rooms and survival during a global health pandemic. But when I wake you up each morning, you still stretch the way you did when you were 4 weeks old. Lips pursed, shoulders scrunched, arms flexed up near your ears like you might burst. And then you do. Bursting awake and ready to take the day on with demands, ideas, dreams, requests for chocolate chips and “short videos” and stories of all the cars you’d like to own and how each of them always have enough room for the “wholllllle family”. We’ve seen so much of your personality and light, but you’re still so little and have so much more to grow. I love being your ambassador through this wild world, but love even more everything you show me.

At bedtime me and C sneak into the garden and pick snap peas off the vine to crunch. We’ve almost picked the last ones for the season. Maybe next we’ll hit up my bucket of carrots or parse through the big leaves for green beans. Typically in mid-July my garden goes off the rails. It’s too hot to manage and every big rain multiplies everything by 9. Things go unruly and untamed. Fruit ripens and rots on the vine. It becomes a project for tear out in September. But this year, I’ve got a handle on it. It’s probably because of the unseasonably cool temps. It’s certainly because I caged my tomatoes and strategically zone planted. It definitely is because my mom went wild weeding when she was visiting last weekend. The majority of plants aren’t ready yet: watermelon, cucumber, heirloom tomatoes, bell peppers, sweet peppers, carrots. We’ve only harvested herbs, snap peas, some green beans and one cherry tomato so far. I think we’re gonna hit a boom and need to open a roadside stand soon....

Well that was just overall a really great 4th of July weekend. It felt extra special to be with family, without concern, with the ability to wander around town mask-less and content.  My favorite parts both included water--pool and beach.  This was the first time we took our crew to the Big Beach for a day trip. We picked Kirk Park for our venture out, and it was excellent. It was a pretty, under-an-hour, drive out to a small-ish county park. Right off the parking lot were picnic tables, grills, a covered pavilion and nice bathrooms.  The beach was down a short, paved walkway through the trees. Along the route we passed the foot washing station, a permanent corn hole playing spot and even a station with kid's life jackets you could borrow.  Right before the beach there were a few spots where you could walk/hike, including a scenic overlook 50+ steps up. The beach itself is a pretty steep (but short) walk down a sand dune. There's not a ton of space--maybe 30ft or so-...