212

The warm, salty, ocean air blew my hair as I licked my bigger-than-normal ice cream cone. My family and I were walking around the main Sea Pines hub in Hilton Head when I saw it. 212. It was printed on a door up a long flight of stairs. How did I spot that out of all the hustle and bustle happening around me? I pointed it out to my aunt, and we marveled over it for a minute. I thought about taking a picture but decided against it, sure I would see it again. That's the thing about 212. My family sees it all the time. On clocks, on mailboxes, in restaurants. In likely and unlikely places. When we're looking for it and not looking for it.

Two-twelve was the number of my grandma's childhood house and something my grandpa always pointed out to her throughout their marriage. She never understood why he latched onto that seemingly random number, but after he died, she started noticing it everywhere. Just like he did. Then my cousin started seeing it, and soon we were all drawn to 212 in different ways. For me, 212 always catches me off guard. So much so that I think it can't be coincidence.

A couple weeks ago, on a particularly stressful day, I walked to the post office with three identical packages. They were going to three family members in three different states. The postman weighed the first two packages at $1.95 each, but the second one? This one's going to be two-twelve, he said. Two-twelve. Not two dollars and twelve cents. Two-twelve. And it was going to my cousin who noticed 212 more than any of us. It definitely made me catch my breath.

Walking home, I willed myself to remember to text her the story. Of course I forgot as soon as I walked in the house, but happened to remember a couple hours later. I sent her a quick text ... only to receive one back that said, you sent that at 2:12.

Maybe we're noticing 212 now more than ever because we're conditioned to see it. Or maybe it's more than a coincidence. Either way, 212 reminds us of him. Of each other. Of the fact that life is more important than work and material things. It reminds us that life is precious and that there's only one to be lived. I like to think that my grandpa's reminding me of that when I need it most.

One Year

Happy one year anniversary to my love. This year has gone by unbelievably fast, and we've packed about as much as possibly could into 12 months. Here's to settling down and the next 60 years. :) P.S. I'm thankful I found someone as weird as me. :)

(Photo credits: Amanda Donaho Photography)

The Warrior Dash

You guys. I got out of my box last weekend. I ran uphill through the woods, swam with my shoes on and played in mud. If you know me, you know that this is so not me. I pretty much do everything by the book (i.e., swimming means you take your shoes off, seeing mud means you walk around it rather than lay in it). Life can get kinda stale though when you don't spice it up every once in awhile, so when my friend Molly asked me to do the Warrior Dash, I felt like this was my chance. Have you heard about these new racing phenomenons? There's a whole slew of them, but the Warrior Dash is a 5K, and I felt like I could handle that.

What I totally underestimated were the obstacles that stand in the way of you finishing the race! I know some people say they're so easy, blah, blah, but I for one thought it was kinda hard to swim with heavy shoes weighing me down. And how about those logs that sit in 4.5 feet of water and SPIN when you try to go over them? Ridiculously hard (I blame it on being short).

Still though, despite the grueling 40-minute race and the hefty price tag that comes along with running in one of these, it was fun. Yes, fun! Who knew?

(P.S. Thanks to Sharon for actually bringing her camera to the race! :) )

When I Grow Up, I'll Drink My Coffee Black.

McDonald's employee: Welcome to McDonald's. What can I get for you? Mom: I'll have a medium coffee with two creams and a packet of Equal.

Every time my mom ordered her coffee, she'd turn and say to me, "When I grow up, I'll drink my coffee black." As a kid, I thought that was the funniest thing because my mom was grown up! Now I totally understand. I've learned to like the taste of coffee, but drinking it black? Huh-uh. Never going to happen ... except maybe when I grow up. :)

While I definitely enjoy Starbucks, I've decided as of late that I need to be making my own lattes instead of spending $3.25 every time I need a pick-me-up. I recently got my very first coffee maker and have been experimenting with hot coffee. This morning though? I wanted something cold, so I made up an iced coffee/smoothie recipe I thought I'd share. There's a slash in there because it's more iced coffee consistency with just a little thickness to it. I'm a big texture person; I've got your back!

Lane's totally-made-up, not-grown-up iced coffee/smoothie (Be forewarned, this makes enough for three-ish glasses)

6-8 ounces of bold, black coffee, chilled 1 container of plain Greek yogurt 4-6 ounces (totally made that up. Really, it's a couple pours) of store-bought iced coffee (I use International Delight, vanilla) 1-ish teaspoon of vanilla sugar (regular sugar would be equally as delicious I'm sure!) 10-12 ice cubes

Blend and enjoy! :)

The Greek yogurt makes the consistency a little thicker, plus it gives it a nice little tang (also why I add some vanilla sugar) and you get your morning protein with the caffeine. Let me know if you have an even better iced coffee/smoothie recipe. I'm always up for trying something new!