First up: Goldbug Studio‘s More Love/Less Hustle print–how darling is that glitter heart?
In Feburary, I spent a week in Southern California, and for all sorts of reasons it was kind of hard trip for me–late nights, early mornings, speaking several times a day, lots of expectations, missing my boys. I got back to my hotel really late one night, and I spread out the contents of a gift basket I’d been given at an event all over the hotel bed.
Katie from Goldbug had gathered up for me such a totally thoughtful basket of books and beautiful paper products and my favorite candle and then this darling print of my New Year’s resolution…and I found out later that she MADE it. In that moment, in the middle of kind of a hard week, Katie’s thoughtfulness and creativity made me feel so loved and taken care of. Katie’s a gem, and I love sharing her work with you.
Here’s the deal: to enter to win, leave a comment telling me about one moment that you loved recently–it could have been over the holiday weekend, or last week or last month, but whenever it was, tell us about a moment that you were truly present for, instead of missing it in the hustle and the multi-tasking and hurrying…
I’ll announce FIVE winners on Saturday at noon CST, and Katie will send you are More Love/Less Hustle print–you get to pick either 5×7 or 8×10.
Also: Katie’s giving 10% off the print in the Goldbug Shop if you use the code SHAUNA, from now till Sunday at noon CST–maybe a Mother’s Day gift, or a little reminder for your own nightstand? That’s where mine sits, the perfect reminder for me at the beginning and end of the day.
Here’s my moment: Yesterday we spent the afternoon at my grandparents’ house. It was so warm and beautiful out, one of the first days of its kind this season, that we decided to scrap our plans to sit at the formal table, and instead we brought the whole meal down to the back porch, and we ate deviled eggs and kale salad and chicken salad sandwiches as the kids threw rocks into the creek and threw water balloons at each other. Later we hung around in the driveway, taking turns on all Grandpa’s toys–bicycles and motorcycles and even a little hand-cart for the kids. I’ve been standing in my grandparents’ driveway watching my dad and my uncles and my brother take motorcycles out for quick spins all my life, and yesterday seemed like the perfect continuation of that–the pop!pop!pop! of engines fading as they pull away and then roaring back, and the kids playing, and my grandma, now eighty-three, watching it all with the same delight and sweetness I’ve seen in her eyes all my life.