The Thirteenth
We said goodbye to Grandma, turned on the baseball game, and drove three and a half hours back to Stuart.
In the coolest, most insane game I’ve maybe ever watched, the Rays came back to beat the Red Sox in a marathon of a afternoon that saw a not-really-but-basically grand slam, and in the park home run, a deficit of 6 obliterated, and an extra inning nail biter that was all the excitement we could need for the duration of our drive. Ella Mae begged the Rays to win, asking every half inning if we were winning yet. She kept an intense eye on the score, even skipping her nap to watch until the end. That’s my Kate for ya. Alas, we won, Daddy pitched great, and Ella Mae was totally satisfied. My girl. Also, for the first time in his career, Daddy caught a pop up right to him without any other fielders calling him off of it. Even made it look easy. What a guy.
And now for our 13th home since March.
I said it.
Thankfully we had a meal already prepared for us upon arriving, as our favorite girls served us in a way that was just the sweetest and SO helpful!! It’s the little things that always end up being the big things. Thank you for loving us well, ladies.
Hey! Let me in!
And as if on cue, more servant hearts popped out of the woodwork, giving this mama a break not only from preparing supper, but from cleaning it up solo too!
We are well and the Lord is so kind.
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