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Confessions of A Seasoned Cruiser

After 30+ cruises, I can tell you there’s a big difference between your first time stepping on a ship and your thirtieth. The first time, you’re wide-eyed at everything—the glittering atrium, the sheer size of the ship, the endless food options. By the time you’ve cruised dozens of times, you still appreciate the beauty, but you also know where the best coffee is without consulting the deck plan, which elevator banks actually move faster, and which quiet corner is perfect for reading when the pool deck is packed.

Boarding Day: No Panic Necessary

New cruisers often bolt onto the ship the second boarding opens, racing to squeeze in every minute. Seasoned cruisers know better. I’ve learned the art of the late arrival—letting the initial rush die down before strolling aboard without stress. The ship won’t sail without me, and sometimes the best move is to head straight for that tucked-away lounge instead of fighting the buffet line with half the passenger list.

Packing Like a Pro

On my first cruise, I packed half my closet. By cruise thirty, I’ve mastered the art of less. Packing for the Caribbean means keeping it light—swimsuits, sundresses, sandals, and easy layers that don’t take up much space. For a leaf-peeping cruise, it’s an entirely different approach. The mornings are crisp, the afternoons warm, and the evenings chilly enough for a sweater and scarf. My suitcase shifts from flip-flops to sturdy shoes, from cover-ups to cozy layers. The key is versatility and always having a carry-on ready with what I’ll need that first day, whether it’s a swimsuit for tropical waters or a fleece pullover for watching fall leaves roll by from the deck.

Skipping the Crowds

After so many cruises, I know when to join the excitement and when to duck away. First-timers chase every trivia contest and poolside game. I’ve learned the joy of finding the hidden decks no one bothers with, slipping into the spa pool when most passengers are in port, and savoring specialty dining instead of fighting buffet lines. It’s not about doing it all—it’s about knowing what fills your cup.

Loving the Rituals

Even after thirty sailings, there are traditions I never miss. The sailaway moment—drink in hand, wind whipping my hair—as the ship pulls away from port. The late-night stroll under starlight when the decks are quiet. That first coffee of the day with nothing but ocean stretched ahead. These rituals are the heartbeat of cruising, and they’ve never lost their magic.

Why I Keep Coming Back

Being a seasoned cruiser doesn’t mean the excitement has faded. If anything, it’s richer now. I no longer stress over what to pack or whether I’ll “miss something.” I know what I love, what I can skip, and how to pace myself. Every ship has its own personality, every itinerary its own surprises, and every voyage still feels like an escape.

After 30+ cruises, I’ve learned this: the sea always gives you something new, whether it’s a sunrise you’ve never seen, a flavor you’ve never tasted, or a memory you’ll carry home. That’s why I keep boarding—because cruising, at its best, is never about the count. It’s about the journey.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Welcome To The Jungle…The Concrete Jungle That Is!

Coming from Texas, New York City hit me like a wall of sound. At home, the nights are wide open and quiet—just cicadas buzzing in the heat, the hum of a porch fan, maybe the crackle of mesquite wood in the fire pit. Weekends smell like barbecue drifting from the neighbor’s backyard, and the pace of life is as steady as a two-lane road stretching toward the horizon.

In Manhattan, silence doesn’t exist. Horns blare in constant argument, buses hiss as they brake, and the subway rumbles below like a restless beast. Layered over it all are voices—thousands of them—clashing, laughing, bargaining, shouting in languages I couldn’t always place. The city doesn’t hum—it roars. And stepping into it, I felt like I’d been dropped into the middle of a song that never stops playing.

The Smells of the City

Texas air is familiar: mesquite smoke, cut grass, fresh rain on dust, the sweet smell of bluebonnets in spring. New York, though, is a kaleidoscope of scents that change block by block. On one corner, a halal cart fills the air with cumin and sizzling lamb. Walk a little farther, and roasted nuts or a hot pretzel tempt you. Then, just as suddenly, the sharp tang of garbage bags waiting for pickup crashes in. But even that fades the moment a bagel shop door opens, releasing the warmth of toasted sesame and fresh bread. It’s chaotic, sometimes foul, sometimes heavenly, but never dull.

The Rat Race in Motion

In Texas, people wave at strangers on backroads, traffic slows behind tractors, and “running late” usually means you stopped to chat somewhere. New York doesn’t have time for that. The sidewalks churn like a stampede. Before the crosswalk light even changes, crowds surge into the street, weaving between cabs with coffees in hand. At first, I hung back—hesitant, cautious. But soon I matched their stride, dodging traffic like it was second nature. The city pulls you into its rhythm whether you’re ready or not.

Finding My Place in the Chaos

Back home, solitude is easy. Step outside at night and the sky opens, stars scattered wide above dark fields. In New York, solitude is impossible—but community is everywhere. Packed shoulder to shoulder on a subway car, sharing an eye-roll at a train delay, or laughing when a cab screeches too close—it felt raw and unfiltered, but real. In its own way, the city made me feel less alone than an empty Texas backroad ever could.

Why It Stays With Me

New York is relentless. It doesn’t slow down, doesn’t soften its edges, doesn’t stop for anyone to catch their breath. But for a Texan used to space, stillness, and skies that seem to go on forever, the chaos was intoxicating. It rewired my pulse to its own restless beat.

New York doesn’t politely invite you to love it—it dares you. And as much as I’ll always cherish the wide skies, the slow drawl of a summer evening, and the comforting smell of barbecue smoke drifting through the Texas air, I know I’ll take that dare again.

Team Pumpkin Spice

Look, I know it’s 112 degrees outside. I know my car seat belt buckle is hot enough to brand cattle. I know I shouldn’t even be thinking about fall flavored drinks right now unless they come with a hydration IV and a personal misting fan.

But friends, I am deep in a pumpkin spice spiral.

It happens every year—like clockwork, right around August 1st. I’ll be standing in Target, drenched in sweat, buying something completely unrelated like a garden hose or ant killer when my eyes land on an orange velvet pumpkin in the seasonal aisle. The next thing I know, I’m sniffing cinnamon-scented candles like a lunatic and trying to justify why I absolutely need a 5-foot inflatable pumpkin holding a PSL.

Pumpkin Premonition Syndrome.

Symptoms include:

Sudden urge to buy decorative gourds
Irrational anger when you remember Starbucks hasn’t released their fall menu yet
Googling “when do leaves start changing in Texas” (the answer is: never, and you know this)
Endlessly scrolling fall craft ideas on TikTok

The worst part is the cruel taunting from stores. Target has started putting Halloween décor on the shelves, but the only beverage option within 10 miles is a coconut cold brew with almond milk. Ma’am, I don’t want my coffee to taste like a tropical vacation. I want it to taste like a haunted bakery.

But I am manifesting fall, y’all. I am changing all my household scents to “Crisp Autumn Leaves” like it’s a sacrifice to the weather gods. I am scrolling past swimsuit sales with the smugness of someone already mentally in a corn maze. I am fantasizing about cardigans, crunchy leaves, and not sweating through my socks.

So while the rest of the world is still living their best summer lives—grilling, swimming, and trying not to melt—I’ll be over here, dreaming in shades of orange, sipping my lukewarm, semi-homemade spice sludge, and whispering sweet nothings to my fall decorations in storage.

Because fall isn’t a season. It’s a state of mind. And I live there #PumpkinSpiceForever #TooSoonButIDoNotCare

Blessings y’all! – Amy

Lessons to Learn From Sea Turtles

Let’s be real—if there’s any creature on Earth that knows how to vibe, it’s the sea turtle. These chill, flippered dudes have been cruising the oceans, minding their own business, gliding through the gorgeous waters like they’re late for absolutely nothing. And maybe that’s the first lesson the sea turtle has for me: Relax. You’ll get there. (I have a hard time with that one sometimes!) But beyond their perpetually unbothered expressions and graceful moves, I’ve found that sea turtles carry a surprising amount of symbolic swag.

Ever feel like the world is in a rush and you’re the only one not moving at lightning speed? Definitely—especially on my commute every day! I’ve come to appreciate that turtles are the poster children for “slow and steady wins the race.” I mean, they literally starred in that fable with the hare. (Okay, fine—it was a land turtle, but same energy.)

Lesson learned: Sea turtles remind me that life isn’t a sprint. It’s a long, winding, saltwater-drenched journey. I try to pace myself, breathe, and take snack breaks.

Sea turtles hatch on a beach, immediately dodge a buffet of hungry predators, then swim thousands of miles… only to return years later to the exact same beach to lay their own eggs. GPS? Magic? Sea turtle sorcery? Who knows. But I think it’s pretty impressive.

Lesson learned: I’m learning to trust my instincts. Even when I feel totally lost, I like to believe there’s a little sea turtle inside me that knows the way home. (And by “home,” I mean wherever I feel most like myself—especially if that’s a white sandy beach surrounded by turquoise waters.)

That shell? It’s not just fashionable—it’s functional. It’s protection, armor, and a mobile home all in one. Sea turtles don’t carry stress. They carry boundaries. And I’m trying to do the same.

Lesson learned: It’s okay to go inward sometimes. I’ve learned to withdraw, recharge, and protect my peace when I need to. My shell = my safe space. (And yes, I fully support decorating it with stickers.)

Some sea turtles live to be over 100 years old. That’s a lot of wisdom tucked behind those sleepy eyes. In many cultures, they represent ancient knowledge, patience, and those cosmic, chill-grandparent vibes. I mean, if anyone’s got it figured out, it’s a sea turtle.

Lesson learned: I try not to underestimate my quiet wisdom. I’m learning to speak when it matters, observe more than I react, and if someone asks me for advice, I offer a knowing head nod and my best Dory-inspired: “Just keep swimming.”

Let’s be honest—if I could be reincarnated as anything, a sea turtle would be top-tier. Living at the beach, eating jellyfish like noodles, napping in coral coves, and wearing a permanent smile? That’s the dream.

Lesson learned: I try to embrace my inner beach bum. Life’s way too short to forget sunscreen or stress about tides I can’t control. So I remind myself to ride the waves. Float a little. And also remind myself: be a sea turtle in a sea of jellyfish.

So the next time I feel overwhelmed by the pace of life, I picture a sea turtle. Unbothered. Smooth. Unhurried. Full of ancient wisdom and absolutely zero regrets. They’re my spirit animal when I need to slow down, reconnect, or just float through life with a bit more grace—and a lot more fun. And I try to remember: the sea turtle doesn’t rush… but it always arrives.

Now go forth, and turtle on. Blessings y’all – Amy

Hawaii Stole My Heart

From the sun-kissed sand that sparkles both onshore and beneath the waves, to the breathtaking sunrises and sunsets—and every unforgettable moment in between—I’m pretty sure I left a piece of my soul in Hawaii. I honestly can’t remember ever falling so completely in love with a place. There were a few moments when I think Tim wasn’t entirely sure he’d get me on the plane to come home! Truth be told, I seriously considered finding a local realtor while we were there. I may have just discovered my retirement destination. I’m fairly confident Tim and I could work out a schedule like the whales—summers in Alaska, and the rest of the year in paradise.

We stayed at the Royal Hawaiian in Waikiki, and for our first trip, it was absolutely perfect. Everything was within walking distance, and there was never a shortage of things to do. That said, I think next time we might opt for somewhere a bit more remote—maybe the North Shore—for a different pace and feel. We had intentionally left some gaps in our itinerary so we could go with the flow when the mood struck, but we also made sure to plan a few dedicated beach days, even going so far as to pre-rent umbrellas in the hotel’s reserved beach section.

I think the days I spent playing in the water were probably my favorite—though the day our private guide took us to a hidden local beach might top the list. That’s where I sat and watched my beloved sea turtles until Tim finally made us leave because I was burning in the sun. You all know I’ve always been obsessed with sea turtles, but seeing them in their natural habitat was absolutely magical. Watching them effortlessly move with the ocean’s rhythm—their sheer size, their grace—it took my breath away. That moment is forever etched in my memory. Honestly, I think we could all learn a thing or two from sea turtles about how to roll with the waves of life.

I’ve never really been one to spend much time playing in the sand and surf, even with my lifelong love for the ocean. In the back of my mind, I’m always aware that I’m not a strong swimmer—and just how powerful the ocean really is. But the water at our hotel was something else. I could walk way out and still only be in water up to my hips. The ocean was, of course, salty—I told Tim I needed a margarita to go with all that salt while we were splashing around—but it was so incredibly clear. And in the afternoons, when the sand got stirred up, it sparkled beneath the surface like glitter. Absolute magic.

View from the water looking back at our hotel

Of course, we met some truly kind souls at the hotel bar—because you know me, I never go anywhere without picking up a new friend or two. Despite the volume of guests they serve every day, each of the bartenders made us feel genuinely welcome and right at home. I also discovered that Mai Tais aren’t really my thing… but a blended coconut mojito? Absolutely my jam. And definitely a certified nap inducer!

I had some fish tacos that were surprisingly delicious—especially considering how far we were from the South—and I’m pretty sure I ate my weight in pineapple over the course of the week. I’ve never had pineapple that good in my life. It got to the point where I was asking for a plate of it as my breakfast side every morning. And funnily enough, despite eating and drinking whatever I wanted, I came home a few pounds lighter. Tim says it’s because we were so active… but I think it’s more likely my body was just in its happy place. LOL.

Tim’s promised we’ll go back—and soon—but for now, I’m content to channel a little Hawaiian magic into some corner of the house and keep dreaming about the day we return. If you haven’t been yet, do yourself a favor: book the plane ticket. It’s truly a magical place.

Blessings y’all – Amy

At The Intersection of Joy & Grief

I made a decision about a month or so ago that I was slowly going to come off the anti-depressants I’ve been on since PawPaw died. That we maxed out after Fred died and had to change completely during COVID because they weren’t working. I’ve reached a chapter in my life where I have such a strong support system and I’ve done so much work in counseling I felt like it was time.

But it’s that time of year again. The month or so I spend holding my breath each day as I open TimeHop and each time I talk to my kids. The memories of him that are in my oldest daughter’s smile, in my son’s laugh, or in my youngest daughter’s tender heart. The anniversary of Fred’s passing is today and, as this new season of my life progresses, the time of year I am so besieged with emotions I can barely sort them.

Guilt is constant because I have found joy again. I wouldn’t ever want the kids to think I’ve forgotten the life we had with their dad. Yet I made a promise to Fred that I wouldn’t be sad too long and that I would marry again. Grief because no matter what I still miss him. Confusion over missing him when I have a man in my life now that loves me to a depth that is indescribable. Sadness because he’s missing out on momentous occasions in my children’s lives. Our first grandchild will make an appearance in September and I know his presence will be missed even more than it already is.

I know that it’s been long enough since he’s been gone that most days I choose joy. I choose to thank God each morning when I do my prayers for the life I have now and the blessings he’s given me. On days like today I feel like I’m standing at an intersection of joy and grief and while I know I need to choose joy more today than any other day the sadness of grief is so deep it’s hard not to give in to it.

Trying to focus on joy I think back to that last “perfect” Lanford Saturday we shared with Fred. It was May 20, 2017 and Fred had been home from the hospital for about a month. It was one of those days where none of us could sit still and were so joyous from having gotten Fred through rehab and home that we just wanted to be out in the world. It was still spring and the weather was gorgeous. We spend the day doing some of our most favorite things. We went to Grapevine and had wine and snacks on Main Street. It was Main Street days in downtown Grapevine and we wandered around different booths for quite a while. The kids each got to have a cast made of their hand holding their dads. Something we didn’t know how very soon would be an irreplaceable treasure from the day. We finished in Grapevine around 3 pm and by 6 pm were back out headed to go see live music at The Truck Yard. With Tigre in tow.

Those are the days I look back on and remember how very much he lived during his time on earth. Those are the days I hope bring a smile to each of my kids when they are sad. And that is the Fred I remember with a heavy heart on the days I am sad. He was a good man. He gave me my family and for that I will forever be grateful.

If you have a favorite Fred memory I’d love to hear it today.

Blessings – Amy

Another Goodbye, A Closing, and A New Year

This one has been bouncing around in my brain the last few weeks and I’ve been trying to sort through so many emotions. Figure I’ll sort it out here like I always do lol. The Irving house finally found its new owners. About a week ago another tumor took our sweet Paris. And inexplicably a new year is upon us.

We signed the papers on the Irving house four years to the day of when I unpacked the last box, hung the last picture, and posted the before and after video of the renovation from moving into Turtle Summit. Funny sometimes how God’s timing works. I’ve been trying to put my mind around the emotions there, cause there are some, but can’t quite get there. When I reflect back on who I was then…man.

Four years ago I was so angry. So tired. So overwhelmed. So afraid. If I dared to crack open one of my prayer journals I can almost promise you those prayers read something like “give me my life back” or “rewind the clock”. My children were leaving home, my husband was gone, and I had absolutely no idea who I was. And quite frankly I was crazy. Out of my mind flipping crazy. I look back on that person and wonder where she came from and thank God every day that he put the right tools and people in my path to get me through.

As I look around today? My list of blessings is as overwhelming as that list of pain and sorrow was. A home I never could have dreamed this small town girl would ever have. A man I adore who loves me beyond measure. A job that challenges me and pushes me to keep growing even when I’d like a minute to breathe.

Last weekend we said goodbye to another of our fur babies. She was older but we weren’t ready. She had a tumor in her ear that they couldn’t promise us wasn’t in her brain. She was in pain and not herself. We kept the promise we made each other not to prolong our babies lives for our own inability to say goodbye. But less than three months after losing Hope it just made the grief hole rip open again. The energy in the house has shifted again and the three remaining girls are tying to find a new rhythm. They are very clingy to us and hate when we leave the house.

Tim and I’s word for 2025 is “intentional”. So often we find ourselves at the end of a week, month, or year having just responded to all that came at us instead of acting intentionally towards our goals. We want to work on the goals we have set and live life on our terms. I think some of that is a result of seeing what we accomplished when we set our mind to it with the house. Not sure. We just know that as we heal from some of what 2024 took from us and embrace some of what it gave us we have big plans.

I am waking up at night with my mind and my heart racing. Anxiety coursing through me that I can’t identify. I thought it was the house. But with that settled not sure what it is. Work is out of control busy so maybe it’s that. But I know that if I turn it over to God and just lift it in prayer it’ll resolve itself in time. Just takes the one thing hardest for me – faith.

What are you reflecting on in as we close out 2024?

—Amy

Reflections on a Holiday Season

Another Christmas Eve is here. As I sit and reflect on how this year’s holiday season has gone I realize progress was made this year. For the first time in years Christmas wasn’t something just to be survived and gotten through!

I’ve spent numerous of the years past turning myself inside out trying to survive the holidays. That or exhausting myself alternating between trying to avoid them wishing away pain and memories or trying to make them perfect. Somehow this year in just letting go it was actually a very enjoyable season.

Did I get Christmas cards out this year? Nope. Get everything on the list of things I wanted to get for people I love? Not even close. Did I find a new favorite Christmas album that I wore out every commute back and forth to work for a month? Yep. (Thank you Cher.) Bake cookies and treats until I was exhausted but happy? Yep.

Tomorrow we are shucking the traditional Christmas menu and replacing it with tamales (brought in through contacts at work) and easy sides. No 5 am turkey shenanigans for me. Short of jumping on a ship I don’t remember another year we’ve dropped traditional Christmas dinner. What’s more? Everyone is pretty darn excited about it!

2024 was a year of huge changes. If you had asked me at this time last year if I’d be living anywhere other than Irving where I’d spent the last 20 years I’d have told you that you were smoking something. But if this year has taught me anything it’s that unlike what life has shown me the last decade or so change can also be good. So I guess it shouldn’t really surprise me that Christmas this year would be different! 🎄

Merry Christmas y’all!

Amy

Put Your Life In Boxes

Wanna know where you fall in the pack rat/hoarder scale in life? Pack your house. Clean out every nook. Every cranny. Attic. Shed. Garage. Put it in boxes. You’ll find that “I should hang onto this for _____” thing that we all do? Goes away real fast. Pretty sure my trash man hates me. Also pretty sure my kids are tired of the text “do you want this”. I’ve lost count of the number of trash bags, boxes, rolls of tape, markers, lists, copies of floor plans, ideas, room shuffles, crying sessions, sleepless nights, etc etc etc. Moving ain’t for the faint of heart.

But on the flip side? When you get just about to the finish line. When your list of things to go through shrinks down to just a couple of things left the sense of peace that starts to come allows air in places inside you that haven’t seen light in a long time. Yesterday we finally got the attic emptied. I slept seven hours in a row last night. Seven hard almost dreamless hours. The two are definitely connected. From the attic I opened boxes with memories that made me smile, some that made me want to weep, and some that just reminded me of treasured times in my life. Pulled out items that made my daughter laugh and some that reminded me of just how small she used to be.

What they don’t tell us when we are in our 20’s and 30’s is that there will come a time in our life when the kids will move on and all we will have left of them is those tiny shirts and treasured pictures. For the generations coming behind us less and less of those printed pictures because so much is digital (which after cleaning out an attic recently might not be entirely a bad thing). My counselor tells me all the time the memories aren’t in the “stuff” but man there were memories that came to the surface last night that I couldn’t have willingly recalled without sticking my nose in a shirt collar or thumbing through an album. There has to be a balance somewhere between having hundreds of boxes and expecting our tired aging brains to recall it all. Don’t you think?

Early in Tim and I’s relationship we just sort of accepted that we wouldn’t move for at least a decade. I remember phrases like “too much work with 6 dogs” and “too many people need us here”. We laid there last night and talked about where we are in this journey. The excitement we both feel each time we walk in the new house. The very foreign concept for me of doing this thing that is for us first and everyone else second. The fact that I haven’t lived outside of Irving in over 20 years. The negative emotions have been forefront for several weeks keeping me from really enjoying this process. When I say I married the greatest man ever I ain’t joking. The way he has put up with the roller coaster I have been on and still just loved me through it? No words. If anything we’ve grown stronger in who we are together. Pretty heady stuff.

I realize now that while I thought Turtle Summit was the peak of my mountain (and why I named it Summit) it was only the mid-line. God never intends us to stop growing. We’re almost through the hardest part of the work and I’m freaking excited. I’ve got a blank slate of a house to make my own. My dogs will have a yard they can run and play in. I’ll be part of watching a neighborhood fill in around me. I’ll be pushed outside of my box and my routine and have to learn new things. I won’t be able to run on autopilot for the last half of my life. I’m just not done living. Why I thought I was I have no idea.

So pack your life up. Even if it’s one closet at a time. Purge. Organize. There is an intangible that comes with that that kick-starts your soul and reminds you there is more to life than the day to day of surviving. God intends us to do more than just survive. I just need to have that tattooed on my damn forehead some days apparently.

Blessings ya’ll – Amy

Bride Tribe Time!

There was a time in my life when I didn’t know what a “tribe” was. I didn’t know that you were supposed to have people in your life that were not related to you that you could call on, day or night, and they would be there no questions asked. I had a friend or two, sure, but nothing compared to what I have now. Last Saturday seven ladies comprised of my amazing girls Amy & Em, my niece Heather, my Bev, and my girls Becky, Jenn, and Amanda gathered to celebrate love, friendship, and WINE.

My requests for the day were visiting vineyards and minimal typical bachelorette type shenanigans. Also to not have to deal with a hangover all day Sunday – wine hangovers as I get older are rough. Though Em couldn’t resist the impulse to add a pretty pink plastic blow up ummm male part to the car ride the rest of the day was shenanigan free.

We started the day in Athens at the Triple N Winery. I can’t wait to go back and see that land not in summer fried mode. Just the winery itself was beautiful but the land around it I am sure is gorgeous in fall colors or spring flush. We were the first ones there and the gentleman that helped us had been with them for some time. (I’m terrible with names these days!) They had probably one of the top 5 Tempranillo wines I’ve ever had and a bubbly made of my two favorite reds – Montepulciano and Tempranillo – that I actually liked. I don’t usually like bubbly.

The best part of the far out wineries was the drive time it gave us to visit and also to dry out if you will between tastings. (I came home at the end of the day sober!) Our second stop was Rossini in Rockwall. Overall I don’t remember a wine that stood out there but they had a gluten free cheeseburger flatbread that I could eat everyday it was so good. Ames caught up with us there – she had had to work that morning and missed the first stop – so we were a full group that the wine maker himself took care of.

Last stop we did wind up in Grapevine but it’s a group favorite – Bingham Winery. They have a 2021 Voigner (white) that I am currently obsessed with. This particular batch the press broke while the grapes were in it so there was longer contact with the skin which makes it finish different than most Voigner wines. I didn’t even bother with the tasting there…went straight for a bottle. 😉 More than half of it went home with me but when you know what you like you know! By this point everyone knew everyone and I think it was the stop we were all the most relaxed. But I guess it stands to reason that since it was the last stop all the wine had relaxed us all too!

All of us at Bingham (Em is behind the camera)

We hadn’t planned dinner but in a tea run for Em (she isn’t a wine drinker) Heather found an adorable place across the street from the winery that had tons of gluten free options for Amanda and I. It was nice to finish the day with conversation and a full belly. The food was also incredible and got added to the list of date night places for Tim and I to try.

Ames & I at Bingham – love those smiles!

I had gone into the day a little apprehensive. I hate being the center of attention and I had been told multiple times the day was for me (side note I’m equally apprehensive about the wedding for the same reason). I wanted everyone to get along and have a good time. But as usual I was worried for nothing. I laughed until I hurt, found out some first impressions of Tim that made my heart full, and spent a full day with people who I adore. It was amazing.

Thank you girls for a wonderful day. I love you all. – A