27 Club

Hey.

Last night my husband told me I hadn't written in a long time.  I guess he's relatively correct.

That very same husband (my only husband, to be clear) joined the ranks of twenty-seven-year-olds last week.  (Not the famous 27 Club.)  As he's been calling me granny for about a month, it seems only fitting that he now be dubbed gramps.

For your viewing pleasure:

This is pretty much a favorite photo of the Flinkman family.  

Apparently this was at a parade after Jered had been hit in the head with a ladder.  

From what I've heard, all the little old ladies waved to him and 

exclaimed at how adorable he was, and this scowl remained glued on his face the whole time.

My apologies for the terrible quality, but you are most welcome for this gem.  Hot stuff, right?

Finally, let it be known that Jered Flinkman has never been without great style.  

  

Jered and I went on a belated birthday/fishing date on Saturday night.  Just the two of us.  It was roasting out, but still lovely.  To catch his live bait, Jered bought the most enormous worms I've ever seen in my life.  (While he caught bait, I was having my mind blown by my Dan Brown book because we were running late and he preferred to train me in the art of bait catching some other time.)

  

(Not to mention the fact that I'm not all about trudging out into the lake.

I'm just not that committed to the fishing.  Sorry.)

After getting our bait, we headed to the river.  Jered rushed me and rushed me, walking inhumanly fast down the railroad tracks.  Apparently we weren't in so much of a hurry, however, that we couldn't stop for five minutes while Jered stalked a rabbit that crossed our path.

  

Anyway, we made it to the secluded, albeit mosquito infested, clearing and got all set up just before the sun went down.  Just as we were settling into our peaceful evening together, we heard voices.

The voices seemed to be heading our way, so Jered flashed his headlamp, so they could see the space was occupado.  But they don't stop.  Two barely-twenty-year-old boys tromp right into our clearing and sit down right across from us.  

Apparently we were in their nightly "let's get trashed" place.  I thought maybe once they saw us there they would leave and go somewhere else, but nooooo.  They made themselves comfortable, started the fire, and continued to tell us their life stories and main ambition: getting wasted.  I've never felt so old and mature in my life.

We sat with them and chatted for about an hour or so, and Jered was very friendly.  He's good like that.  I mainly sat there and texted Katie to tell her how our quiet evening was going.  There we were, thinking we'd have some peace and quiet, and in come two kids who just wanted to get crunk.  Country crunk.

It wasn't so bad, mainly because Jered and I had a hearty laugh on our way home after getting ice cream cones.  Jered asked me to look back on that night any time I felt that he was being immature.  "I'm twenty-seven.  I don't have time for that," he said as we cracked up all the way into our parking lot.

He's an alright guy.  I think I'll keep him... even though he brings scary movies home for us to watch together at 11:30 p.m. on work nights, and he actually makes me wish it would get cold so that fishing season would be over.  (I am not a winter fan.)

I'll keep him because he's promised me three solid nights of no fishing this week, he did the grocery shopping for me today, DID HIS OWN LAUNDRY today, and he even offered to help me clean the apartment tomorrow.  (Sorry for the bragging, but he sometimes thinks I don't appreciate what he does, but boy, do I?!)  

More importantly, I'll keep him because I love seeing how God works in Him.  I love seeing him grow and how he helps me grow.  While that whole "iron sharpening iron" thing is not always comfortable, it sure is important, and he's good at it.

Jered, welcome to the old fogies' club.  It's not so bad, although now you can be included in the "three more years" chant.  

Enjoy your week, friends.  Talk to you later.

Aim

Life and Anniversary Shenanigans

Hi.

I must beg your pardon for a letter that is going to be a dumping of life updates that I'm sure you are dying to hear.

Shall we start with confession?  Ok.

Hi, my name is Aimee, and I am a negligent stretcher.

I went running last night and topped it off with a couple weight exercises for the first time in a couple weeks because I'm a pro at making [valid] excuses for not going.  Although the voice in my head told me to stretch out afterward, all I could think about was a shower and food.  Oh, the pain.

Anyway, I hope you had a nice weekend.  Maybe that's a late wish since we're already halfway through the week, but I still hope you did.   I did.  I went home for a family reunion.

(Photos taken by Lori Goforth)

Katie and I basically played with little kids the whole time.  You know, because we have similar maturity levels and senses of humor.

 

 

I already posted these on Instragram, but I have to share them again.

Charlie is warming up to me- I think I am moving up in the cousin ranks.  This time she did not try to push me off the seat to make room for Katie, but actually motioned for me to come sit by her.  Win!  Maybe because I let her share my plate of fruit?  I'll take it.  Also- she told us to peace out when she went home.  Haha.

One little girl told me everything she knew about animals.  Mostly owls.  And dinosaurs: they are estinct.  What is estinct?  Dinosaurs are estinct.  Hopefully that cleared things up for any of you who were wondering.

The little P.I.T.- that's Princess in Training in case you were curious, carried that chocolate cupcake around for two hours before reaching the bottom.  She savored that frosting for a long time.

And the little guy giving Katie the stink eye?  Well, he is our same little friend from last year's Halloween party.  And he still makes scary faces, pops up behind you to scare you, bends his fingers in weird ways, and growls/screeches at you.  He was a dinosaur.  I don't think I've ever met anyone like him before, and I'm looking forward to some more laughs at this year's Halloween party.  (He is supposed to be able to hold his breath for five minutes by then.) 

On Sunday Katie and I sat right up front next to the kids during the juggling act at the church picnic.  Katie says to me, "He won't pick on us to be volunteers, will he?"  I assured her that he would certainly rather have the little kids help.  Ha- I was wrong.  Please see the right photo:

 
(Apparently a little kid wasn't going to cut it when
it came to helping him get on the unicycle.)

 

(The face paintings were spectacular.)

Finally, I had planned on sitting down to write some thoughtful, maybe profound, or at least sentimental letter about our second anniversary.  Maybe when I have more time later this week I'll get to that.

I made an executive decision that Jered and I would start exchanging the traditional anniversary gifts.  Year two is cotton.  

Jered:  Cotton?  What am I supposed to do with cotton?!

Aimee:  Clothes...

Jered:  Oh yeah... I was thinking, like, cotton balls.

Aimee:  Don't even think about it.

I instantly knew that I wanted to get Jered some nice, new t-shirts.  I found some perfect KU shirts for him.  Jered decided to chuck the $25 limit I set for us, and booked a special date for us.  

Aimee:  Does it have anything to do with cotton?

Jered:  Well... very... very distantly.

I would share photos with you, but I didn't take any this year as it would have been entirely inappropriate.

He booked us a couple's massage.  (He was thinking cotton robes.)  I was so impressed because I never would have expected him to do that.  Although as a first-timer I had some trouble relaxing and keeping a straight face part of the time, it was quite nice.  We're thinking that maybe it needs to be a monthly occurrence.  

And now, how 'bout I share a slew of wedding photos?  Yes?  I was hoping you'd agree.

My husband is a hottie.  Swoon.

You should see the bromance between these two now.  It's a beautiful thing.

(Photos by Seth Lowe Photo)

Sigh.  Such beautiful memories.  Here's to many more!

Well, until next time, friends.  Have a fantastic day.

Aim

The Best Part of Back to School and Updates

Hi.

I was able to chit chat with my mom for a few minutes last night, and she mentioned that she had to go back to school next week.  I can't decide if the summer goes by faster when I have that time off or when I have to work straight through it.

Anyway, stroll into just about any store right now, and you will find all sorts of back to school sales.  (I'm happy to say I was able to take advantage of some of them.)  As Katie and I rummaged through the sale racks this weekend, we reminisced about our favorite part of going back to school: new stuff.

A few new outfits, tennis shoes, a backpack, writing and coloring utensils, and for junior high- a trapper keeper made the prospect of going back to a classroom seem like a little less of a bummer.

The backpack I use now is the same one I had for half of my high school career, which makes me feel quite terrible that I used to want a new one for each school year when they can clearly last for over a decade.  Sorry, Mom and Dad.  I see the folly now- if only junior highers could enjoy our hindsight.

Buuuut, wasn't it such a great feeling to start out fresh with those never-before-used crayons?  (Crayola obviously.  None of that RoseArt business, please.)

(Ah- the coveted 96 count box...)

The brand new container of mechanical pencil lead refills?  The perfectly organized trapper keeper?  Lisa Frank everything?  Or that new outfit that you wished you could wear every single day?

    

(Never forget.)

Ah, sweet memories.

I went through a phase in junior high where I woke up at 5:30 or earlier every morning.  Not to get an early start on the day by exercising or reading my Bible or even to finish homework.  No, just to get ready.  If I could share a photo of what I looked like in junior high, I think I would have given you a great mystery to solve.  It makes no sense.  Why on God's great earth did I need that much time to drench my hair in gel, put it in a messy bun, and twist my bangs into little strings?

(Or something like this.)

Here's hoping that we I have a better idea of what actually looks good now.  For instance: not slathering glittery gel all over my face and neck.  Yipes.

Oh, and this is great- I used to keep a notebook to write out my outfits for each day, so that I could monitor days in between wearing the same outfit.  As if it helped my style.  

Wait- we were talking about going back to school.  Is it weird that even though I have absolutely no need to buy a single thing in the office supplies aisle, that when I see those "Back to School" signs I desperately want to pick up a brand-spanking new pack of pens?  

No, I didn't think so either.  Who doesn't want an abundance of Sharpie pens?

In other news: 

I'm late to the shindig, but Parks and Rec. is amazingly hilarious.  I love Chris Pratt a little more each day.

Thanks to Jered, MasterChef is one of my favorite shows, and I was ridiculously disappointed when I accidentally fell asleep on the couch last night and missed the first ten minutes.

Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, Jered was still sleeping, and he had a small smile on his face and looked so peaceful that he might as well have been a puppy because I thought it was the cutest thing ever.

I play The Desolation of Smaug every time I want to work on my painting project because I don't want to have to stop painting to change the movie.  Also, I just really love it.  (I'm super pleased with how the project is turning out as well, and hopefully I can share it with you soonish.)

Wondering about that cleanse?  I suppose it doesn't qualify as a cleanse unless you follow it completely, but I'm still happy with what I would call... 80% following the fish, fruits, and veggies?  For bread-loving me, I'll call that success.

Katie and I rearranged our room, and now Jered and I have a nice little rocking chair/reading corner, and I kind of love the new look.  

I felt very adult when I purchased an antique, iron vent cover at a garage sale this weekend.  It actually made me think of my house, and I got a little sentimental.  (I also felt very grown up when I bargained for the rocking chair and an entry way table.)

I need to get my sewing machine out of hiding because while Katie helped me clean out my closet this weekend, I came up with about five altering projects.

Well, I think that's about everything.  Talk to you later.

Aim

Ink and Conviction

Dear reader,

We're friends, right?  Of course we are.  Otherwise you would not be here reading and sharing in my life and inmost thoughts, nor would I be sharing them with you.

Today I'm especially glad we're friends because I have some confessions and prayer requests to share with you.  And I know that you will love me unconditionally because that's what friends do.

Let's start off with the light, k?

I just spent a fantastic weekend with my fun-loving little sister.  We had a blast.  At one point I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face.  It's been awhile since I laughed that hard. 

We sunned, we shopped, we found some garage sale winners and even bargained for them, we watched flicks and laughed at our identical reactions over and over, we went out for sushi and took our time to relax and enjoy our evening together, and we got inked.

I was hesitant to share this with you because I know there are many mixed feelings about it, but I also know that I am the last person to rush into something without thinking about it, so you will know that a great deal of thought and heart went into the decision.

 

 

What I find cool is that we each had decided on our own, but we didn't realize until later that they went together.   Katie's is a picture of an anchor and a cross, representing faith and hope in Christ.  I chose the script "but the greatest of these is love."  

I'm excited about how that worked out.

Now, with the heavy: my conviction.  No, I do not feel convicted about getting a tattoo.  I quite love it actually.  I wanted it as a reminder because in case you haven't noticed, for the last several months I've been talking about how I want to learn to better love my husband.

Even though we are friends, I am embarrassed and a bit ashamed to admit to you that I am really bad at having purposeful, quiet devotional times.  So today, after Katie left I decided that I was going to spend some time out on our balcony studying the chapter our tattoos came from and finishing Forgotten God.

Have you ever noticed the sentence that leads into 1 Corinthians 13?  I just fell in love with it recently: "And now I will show you the most excellent way."  I just really enjoy how Paul says that.  (And admittedly, a small part of me hears him saying that in a surfer boy voice, which is amusing.)  But seriously- the most excellent way- sounds like I need to listen up. 

As I read, I realized that I needed that reminder more than I thought I did.  You guys, I know I constantly tell you how slow on the pick up I am, but seriously!  I mean, we chose this passage for our wedding ceremony.  I've studied it how many different times?  And still, I read through the characteristics of love and thought of ways that I fail in each and every one, and I mean F.A.I.L.

I fall utterly and miserably short on each account.  Over and over and over again.  Weekly, daily, hourly.  (I'm sure Jered could attest to that, but he's too sweet to say so.)

Here I am, talking about love and what I need to learn about it in almost every other letter, and still realizing just how bad a lover I am.  (And I don't mean that in a way that would make anyone blush.)

So then I move onto Forgotten God, which in case I didn't mention before, is a book about the Holy Spirit.  And wouldn't you know, God uses the chapter to walk hand in hand with my problem with loving.

Let me share some of what stuck out to me:

Have you ever prayed that God would so fill you with the Spirit that people would know the change could be empowered only by the Spirit?  It is when we are filled with true peace and hope that people notice there is something different about us.

Even in our daily living we can look more like the prophets of Baal as we live our lives, running about in a frenzy, trying to fix our problems, not stopping long enough to call on the power of God Almighty. (The part in bold is what I ran my Hilighter over furiously.)

He desires to do more than "help out" a bit.  He wants to completely transform us.

Instead of mustering up more willpower, let's focus our energies and time on asking for help from the One who has the power to change us.  Let's take the time to ask God to put the fruit of His Spirit into our lives.  And let's spend more time with the One we want to be more like.

Now, I don't think that this chapter was written with wives learning to love their husbands in the author's mind.  However, I do believe that God can use various things to teach us what we need to learn.  And when it comes to love, it all goes back to His love for us.  That's where it all starts.  How can I love my husband if I am not learning to love from God?  And if I cannot even love my husband, the man I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with, in a way that mirrors how God loves, how can I possibly love people I hardly know?

Several times in the midst of this single chapter, I had to put the book down and cry through prayers because I felt like such a fool for being so slow in a subject that I once thought I aced.  I thought I loved my husband so much.  And in my heart and mind, I do.  So, so much.  He is the love of my life.  He truly delights my soul.  However, I am such a failure in my actions so often.  And generally, I thought I loved people and cared, but what have I done to show that love?  What have I done to share God's love?

Humiliatingly little.

Thankfully, this chapter offered hope to me because it reminded me of the awesome power of the Holy Spirit, the forgotten God, the One who lives in us.  He is there waiting for me to call on Him and ask for His strength and work in my life.  Dare I say I get it now?  (As soon as I do, He will surely point out more that I don't.)  

Maybe I should say I get what I've been doing wrong: trying to do it on my own.  (In more aspects of life than just loving, but that's what I wanted to focus on today.)

Well friend, I hope that maybe you can be encouraged by that thought just as I was today, and that it was helpful if you needed to be reminded like I did.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. 

 But the greatest of these is love.

 - 1 Corinthians 13:13

Talk to you later,

Aim