Today (now that it is past midnight) is my Aunt Annette’s birthday. I share with my aunt (among other things) a passion for creating, a love of dabbling in new disciplines, and an endless pursuit of excellent skincare. She has been a big and positive influence in my life, and I hope she knows it. In her honor, because she is a dog person, I share with you and her the above photos of an adorable doggie whom I recently captured surveying the backyard at a bridal shower.

Dear Aunt Annette: a card is on its way to you but will be belated by the time it reaches you. So let me, here and now, wish you a very Happy Birthday indeed!

Love,
- Your Niece

You might recognize them. They flew in over your borders early Monday morning; I thought I should let you know that they’re going to be with you for a while.

That one on the right is my brother. He graduated from Gutenberg several years ago, and so did his wife; that’s her on the left. He always wanted to go to grad school, but he had a few things to do in the meantime. Now, though, he’s going for a PhD in Philosophy and an MA in Classics—which should set him up perfectly to come back and teach at Gutenberg. Which is great. The only catch is, he had to go to… well, to you to do it. And you are just a little farther away from Oregon than any five-year program which my brother is attending should be.

So take a good long look at them, because I have a very important job for you. I need you to take care of these two. I want you to make sure that they are fed, clothed, educated, encouraged—make them at home, but not too at home; comfortable, but not too comfortable. (After all, we do want them to make their way back over here at some point.) Make sure that Brian does well in school and that Melanie finds a job she likes—and make sure that they both can feel the motherly, fatherly, and sisterly love emanating from this little house on the other side of the country.

Oh, and, Boston? You just received a couple of first class folks. I hope you know that.

Sincerely,

Erin

I think I may have just died and gone to heaven.

(P.S. Just kidding. Not about wanting them… but about the whole “buy these for me!” thing. Just so you know.)

In other words: perfect time for a blog post!

Haha. Do not worry. I am not COMPLETELY insane—therefore this will be only a very short post. I just thought I should give you something lovely to look at on your Sunday evening. And these shoes fit the bill quite nicely:

Mmmmmmmm, delicious. Yep, that’s what I thought, too, when I found them perched on a spinning rack at a local thrift store over spring break.

And what’s more…

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I have teeny-tiny feet. It is very rare that I actually find any shoes in my size. So when I leaned in for a closer look and saw “5 1/2″ printed on the footbed of these scrumptious little numbers, my heart went pitter-pat.

And then I found out they were only ten dollars, and, well… that is when I melted into a puddle of shopping success.

… And they lived happily ever after, except for the permanent damage that Erin is probably doing to her legs and back by wearing high heels around all the time.

The end.

Is it because I got a few new articles of clothing with my Christmas money?

Is it because I shot a wedding all by my self (successfully, I might add!)?

Is it because there lies ahead of me a crisp, brand new, fresh year?

Is it because all my friendlings are returning for school?

Well, the answer is… yes, yes, yes, and yes.

But this is why I’m REALLY excited:

That’s right… my very own pocket-size Weekly Moleskine 2007 Calendar.

I’ve had it since the beginning of November. But now I can start using it.

*SWOON *

Let me take a moment to tell you what a remarkable woman my mother is. She and I have had our fair share of scuffles, especially in the last few years, mostly because we are so darned alike. And, as a result, I rarely give her the respect that it is both my duty to give her and that she deserves. But the fact is, my mother is one of the most admirable people I have ever met.

Her life, like every person’s who is willing to admit it, is not neat. She makes mistakes. She makes choices she knows she doesn’t want to make when she makes them. But Mom has always modelled humility, honesty, and graciousness of character for my brother and I in her everyday interactions with other people. She is always thinking of other people before herself—a fact that, to my great shame, I often do not recognize as she provides for me. She also has real wisdom born of experience, and has shared it with me to my great benefit on many occasions. (Not to mention the fact that she is insanely organized and has done a fantastic job of making sure our household runs smoothly for decades.)

I do not think my mother is a perfect person. And sometimes, all that my blind eyes can see are her faults, perhaps because I know so many of them are also my own and I am afraid to own them. But when God opens my eyes, I see that she is a true woman of Character and Virtue, who has been faithfully doing her best to serve God and her family through the years.

I talk a lot about what a big deal this period of transition to adulthood, of starting college, of moving on and growing up has been for me. But it has been just as big a deal to Mom. She has watched me grow and struggle and learn. She has watched me prove what a selfish sinner I am time and again. She has watched me succeed and fail and encouraged me to look at what things are really important in life. Heck, she even faithfully reads my blog (and all your comments, FYI ).

And I know that she is proud of me, but I can also see that as she watches me prepare to leave the nest, her heart aches with that bittersweet mother-ache that I suppose I can’t yet fully understand.

I don’t know if I can possibly make that ache better, but I hope that letting her know how much I appreciate her will help. Thank you, Mom, for being a role model, a teacher, a comfort, and a friend. Thank you for sharing wisdom and caring and endless patience. Thank you for supporting my crazy ideas and interests, and for always being there for me. Please forgive me for the disrespect I have showed you and the pain I have caused you. I really do not think I could have had a mother better-suited to me. God knew what He was doing. I love you. Happy birthday.

Between then and now, it has…

… had its first snow…

… had its hood stolen (!) and then replaced…

… had its stereo’s faceplate stolen and not replaced (sigh)…

… and taken me on multiple road trips, carried me to and from work and school, and contributed a great deal to my growing feeling of independence.

For our anniversary, I gave it an old, half-broken tape deck/radio combo that Elijah took out of his car when he got a new CD player. It appreciates not driving in silence all the time anymore.

Thank you, car, for being the (fairly) reliable companion that you have been. Please don’t get stolen again.

(P.S. I still haven’t washed it. As in, not once since I got it a year ago. The Oregon rain kept it clean in the winter, I swear!)