As promised, I’m back sooner than planned
I actually wrote a bulk of this newsletter two Fridays ago, but decided to wait a week to press send, to truly give myself a week off.
Last Saturday I made a list of reasons I know I have a lot of love in life, it was easy to do, had the time of my life at a wedding, life felt full in the best way. Then Tuesday I left work with tears welling up in my eyes because I had texted a friend about how I was tired of being single, and she had the most compassionate response, and I had that ever familiar a little sad but a lot loved feeling. On Thursday I thought about how the Bible I’ve had since my freshmen year has been with me through so much life - and really God has been faithful through all of it, so I cried again. And then yesterday I had the most perfect fall Saturday: breezy bike ride with a friend, writing over a plate of biscuits and gravy at Mildreds, got creeped out by my audio book (Home Before Dark), and a birthday party. So a week of high highs and medium lows, and a lot of love.
Also this newsletter has pictures, do we like the pictures?
This sentence now has links to the 100th issue master spread sheet, my instagram, my Outdoor Voices referral link, and old issues of the newsletter.
Number One: Take a walk on a college campus
One of the most inspiring things I have done lately is walk on UMKC’s campus. It was a Sunday afternoon, so it was a little dead in the way college campuses are on Sundays. Something about being amidst all the possibility and nostalgia - it was lovely.
I do not miss college, but I miss college students. I miss walking to wear I needed to go, and afternoon sonic drinks. I miss the way things predictably changed. I do not miss grades or group projects.
Anyway, if you live near a college campus, take advantage of its walkability.
Number Two: A tender piece on family and love
This New Yorker piece, My Three Fathers, was a tender soul hug. I especially loved the thread the author pulled of how her dad and step-dads motivated her to write, or not write. It’s a sweet reminder that love takes many forms.
Love does not require understanding to thrive.
Number Three: This Kitchen
I saw a picture of this kitchen and was captivated. Somehow I just know that good coffee is made here, that the cast iron is seasoned, that there’s a lot of laughter. The natural light, the way it’s cluttered. I’m not one for chalkboard walls or shiplap or the color yellow, but suddenly I am. I can’t stop thinking about how much I love this kitchen.
Overall this piece on the black community in Sag Habor was inspiring, but especially this kitchen!!
Number Four: Coke person, but loved this Obit
I live the Diet Coke life pretty exclusively and have been known to say, “no thanks” when the waiter asks, “Is Pepsi ok?” This New York Times Obituary of the long time president of Pepsi, made my heart smile Pepsi is after all, sometimes ok.
Number Five: A choral walk down memory lane
That New Yorker piece mentioned “Lake Isle of Innisfree,” which I read and thought, “If I didn't sing this in women’s choir…”
I love bringing up choir when talking about things that matter in the moment but will so not matter later. In junior high high school nothing mattered more to my group of friends than choir. We literally breathed choir - like we did breathing exercises for fun when hanging out. My heart first shattered at the end of my sophomore year of high school when all of my friends made Chamber Choir, and I did not. I cried for days. When I recovered as much as I could, I decided to join newspaper staff, and because of this scheduling conflict, I was placed in Sophomore Women’s Choir for a second year, and then a third year when I again did not make Chamber Choir. The whole time my parents faithfully paid for classical voice lessons from a nice but very scary lady named Pam, and that is how I know I have a lot of love in my life.
It was sort of horrible at the time. I had a different lunch period than my friends - they had jokes that I did not, they got to wear dresses to choir concerts, I had a robe. They were elite, I was going to high school journalism conferences. But now my name is forever on a plaque at Free State because I won some presidential leadership award for rocking the mezzo-soprano section of Sophomore Women’s Choir for three years, so eat that Chamber Choir.
Never once since I walked out of high school has someone asked me what choir I was in. Not once has someone referenced our choir’s competition record (perfect). And that is because no one cares. It mattered then, no one cares now.
No one cares, but as it turns out, I still no every word to Lake Isle of Innisfree, I am Not Yours, this Ave Maria, and If Music Be the Food of Love.
As promised, here’s the link to Ticket to Ride. If you live and plan to vote in the Midtown Kansas City and want to be in on some research on down ballot items, get in touch.