Saturday Steps and the Scent of Sweet Sugar

Hello, friends. I am sitting here at the kitchen table with the sun just starting to dip behind the neighbor’s maples, casting long, golden shadows across my robin-egg-blue journal. It is a few minutes before six, and the house is surprisingly quiet. Mark is out back with Biscuit, throwing the frayed tennis ball until the poor dog is too tuckered out to wag, and the kids are momentarily occupied with a bin of LEGOs in the living room. It has been one of those Saturdays that feels both productive and replenishing, like a well-poured candle finally reaching its full scent throw.

My morning started early, even for a weekend. I was out the door by 7:30 am to meet Megan at the park. We have been so consistent with our Saturday pickleball matches lately, and I can really feel the difference in my stamina. Between the 5K training and these high-energy games, I’m noticing that I don’t get winded the way I used to back in June. There is a certain kind of self-worth that comes from realizing your body is capable of more than you gave it credit for. I looked at myself in the gym mirror today—sweaty, red-faced, and hair escaping my ponytail—and I actually felt beautiful. Not a polished, magazine-cover beauty, but a strong, functional kind of gorgeous.

Megan and I played three sets, and I’m proud to say I won two of them. We spent the cooling-down period walking laps around the court, talking about the bakery and the Harvest 5K. She’s cheering me on for October, and having that support system makes the three-mile runs during the week feel much less daunting. We stopped by Sweet Magnolia afterward, and the smell of cinnamon and yeast was almost enough to make me forget I’m trying to keep my sugar intake down. Almost.

When I got home, I found Joanne standing by our shared fence in that familiar pink bathrobe. She was deadheading her petunias and waved me over to hand me a small bunch of herbs from her garden. She told me she saw me jogging yesterday and mentioned I looked like I was 'gaining ground.' It’s funny how a few words from a neighbor can make you feel like you’re truly winning at this life thing. It reminded me that even when we think no one is watching, our growth is visible to the world.

The afternoon was dedicated to a little bit of side-hustle hustle. I had three orders for 'Lucy's Little Light' come in overnight, which is a record for a Friday night! I spent two hours in the kitchen carefully pouring my signature lavender-soy blend. Seeing those little glass jars lined up on the counter feels like a small financial victory. It’s not a fortune, but it’s mine. It’s the money for Emma’s next set of riding lessons and maybe a little extra for a nice anniversary dinner with Mark next month. Nine years is coming up fast, and I want to do something special to celebrate the man who still leaves at 5:30 am to build houses so we can thrive in ours.

Speaking of Mark, he came home earlier than usual today since it’s Saturday. He caught me while I was labeling the candles and just stood in the doorway for a second, watching. Sometimes he looks at me with this quiet intensity that makes my heart flutter just like it did back when we were twenty-five. He told me I smelled like lavender and hard work, and then he kissed the top of my head. It’s in those tiny, mundane exchanges that I feel the most desirable. It isn’t about fancy dresses; it’s about being seen in the middle of your everyday magic.

Emma spent most of the afternoon at the table with me, though she wasn't pouring wax. She was busy 'improving' her math worksheets with drawings of stallions and meadows. I should probably tell her to focus on the numbers, but seeing her creativity bloom makes it hard to be the strict parent. Noah, on the other hand, was fully committed to his velociraptor persona today, stalking Biscuit through the hallway in his favorite pajamas. I’m just grateful the dog is patient enough to be 'hunted' by a four-year-old.

As I look over my notes for the week, I realize I’ve hit twelve miles total. That is a huge leap from where I was just a month ago. Small, steady increments, just like I told myself at the hardware store on Thursday. Whether it’s balancing the books for Mr. Miller or finding the rhythm in my stride on Sycamore Street, it all adds up to a life that feels full and intentional.

Tonight, we’re keeping it simple. Mark is grilling, and I think we might just sit on the porch and watch the fireflies once the kids are tucked in. I want to hold onto this feeling of capability. I want you all to feel it, too—that sense that you are the architect of your own joy, one small brick at a time. Whether you’re training for a race or just trying to get through the laundry, you are doing enough. You are enough.

I can hear the grill scraping outside, which is my cue to go help with the salad. I hope your Saturday has been as kind to you as mine has been to me. Take a deep breath, smell the air, and remember how far you’ve come since the start of the summer. We are growing, ladies, even when it feels like we’re just standing still.

I love you. — Lucy