Perfection.

Last Friday night James and I got burgers at Five Guys went to go see The Great Gatsby. (Have you seen it yet? My response: “It’s just like the book – I LOVE IT!” James’ response: “It’s just like the book – I hate it.”) We headed home afterwards and sat on our porch drinking minty strawberry lemonade while the first spring storm rained down around us, until rain started blowing in and forced us inside. We got up early the next morning to meet friends for brunch at Founding Farmers, so early in fact, that James insists it was just normal breakfast and not brunch. When we got home, I went in to the bedroom to grab some chapstick… and woke up almost two hours later. (Those are always the best naps, right???) The rest of the day was spent paper writing, cleaning, and puttering around our little home, until friends came over for dinner and more minty strawberry lemonade was consumed on the porch. We played cards until midnight, laughing and eating strawberry shortcake and wishing for summer. Through it all, I Instagrammed way too many photos of James looking like grumpy cat, a trade-off he made in exchange for no photos on date night. (Can I just say that by the end of the day and successfully getting the agreed upon 10 photos, I was totally burnt out on Instagram. Sheesh. James wins. ) On Sunday we followed church with BBQ in Old Town, calls to our mothers, and a lazy Sunday afternoon that had all the best elements of relaxation, which is to say, naps, more minty strawberry lemonade (because we are obsessed), walks, mindless television, and chocolate chips eaten straight from the bag.

At the end of the weekend, we just couldn’t stop saying it: “This was a perfect weekend.”

But why? We didn’t do anything super exciting, didn’t go anywhere really flashy, didn’t dine at a glitzy restaurant, see a show, or throw an awesome party. We did get all the laundry folded, the bathroom scrubbed, the groceries restocked, and the bills paid, but we didn’t have an adventure, or do anything objectively exciting. Instead, we got sleep that restored, ate food that satisfied, and hugged friends that are loved. We did the work that needed to be done so it didn’t consume us the rest of the week, laughed the deep belly-laughs that leave you breathless, and talked with the ones that we miss on a daily basis. We spent the weekend together. Not running separately in pursuit of a million different things, but being close to each other and delighting in the mundane fun of ordinary existence.  And that is perfection.

Ihavefoundtheone

What does a perfect weekend look like for you?

(PS- that picture is one from Stephen and Leslie’s engagement shoot. Check back tomorrow for all the rest!)

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9 Responses to Perfection.

  1. Liz says:

    Homere and I got burgers at Five Guys and went to see the Great Gatsby on Friday too!!! Great minds think alike.

  2. How could you marry someone who doesn’t love Gatsby?!? Just kidding (sort of). I loved the movie, too. So much that I’m seeing it for the third time tonight. (More because of needing to see it with a lot of different friends, but still – not a lot of movies that I could enjoy more than once in the same week.)

    • Hannah says:

      It was truly an oversight. I knew he preferred Hemingway (HOW???) but I didn’t know it went so far as to be disgust in Fitzgerald. It might have been a deal breaker.

      • bkjergaard says:

        You missed a month long debate over the supremacy of Hemingway and Fitzgerald. We decided in the end the point was moot; Faulkner was clearly the winner. I should have warned you then…

  3. Kate says:

    Brian and I have had a few weekends like that. We went on a cross country road trip recently that for all its flaws cannot be described as anything other than perfection. I swear God loves to throw in days just to enjoy the peace.

  4. Leslie says:

    A few poignant reactions: 1) Sad that we missed out on that weekend and 2) Love. That. Photo. With. Those. Words.

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