Tuesday Tools and the Thirty-Eight Mile Triumph

Hello, friends. I’m sitting here at my kitchen table, the sun just starting to dip low enough to cast long, golden shadows across the linoleum, and for the first time all day, the house is quiet. Mark just pulled into the driveway—I can hear the familiar rumble of his truck—and the kids are currently preoccupied with a 'dinosaur excavation' in the backyard dirt patch. It’s these small pockets of peace that really let me breathe, isn’t it? I hope you’ve all had a moment today to just be still.

Today was a Tuesday, which meant my shift at Miller's Hardware. There’s something so grounding about that shop. The scent of fresh sawdust always greets me at the door, and Mr. Miller was in his usual spot, humming along to the radio. I spent most of my four hours there reconciling the accounts for a new shipment of lumber. It isn’t glamorous work, but there is a profound sense of self-worth that comes from making the numbers align. It reminds me that I’m more than just 'Mom' or 'the candle lady'—I’m a woman who knows her way around a spreadsheet and a ledger.

After I finished up at the shop at three, I headed straight for the trail. With the Cedar Falls Harvest 5K looming in October, every mile counts, but today felt different. I hit the thirty-eight-mile mark for my cumulative monthly training, and let me tell you, my legs felt every single one of them. There were moments around mile two where I wanted to stop and just walk back to the blue house, but I thought about you ladies. I thought about how we talk about showing up for ourselves, even when it’s hard.

As I ran past Joanne’s house, I saw her out there in her signature pink bathrobe, even though it was mid-afternoon. She was meticulously deadheading her petunias, looking as peaceful as can be. She gave me a little wave with her garden shears, and I realized that we’re all just tending to our own little corners of the world. For her, it’s the flowers; for me, it’s this body that is slowly getting stronger, leaner, and more capable than I ever gave it credit for in my twenties.

Staying in shape at thirty-four feels less about vanity and more about vitality. I want to be able to keep up with Noah when he’s pretending to be a velociraptor and chasing Biscuit around the yard. Speaking of Biscuit, the poor dog was waiting at the door when I got home, tail thumping against the wood like a drum. He knows my post-run routine involves a few extra scratches behind the ears, and I’m happy to oblige. He’s the best listener I have, aside from you all, of course.

I also managed to squeeze in some time for 'Lucy's Little Light' this morning. I had three new orders on Etsy for my 'Autumn Hearth' scent. Hand-pouring those candles in the kitchen while the house is still cool feels like a meditation. It’s a slow financial growth, sure, but every sale feels like a tiny victory for my side hustle. It’s money I’m tucking away for our ninth anniversary dinner next month. Mark works such long days as a foreman, leaving before the sun is even up at 5:30, and I want to treat him to something special.

Speaking of Mark, he just walked through the door smelling like grease and hard work. He looked at me, sweaty from my run and still in my leggings, and told me I looked beautiful. It’s funny how we worry about being perfectly put together, but the people who truly love us see the effort and the glow instead of the mess. It makes me feel desirable in a way that has nothing to do with a fancy dress and everything to do with being seen.

Emma came in a few minutes ago to show me her latest masterpiece. She’d been 'helping' me at the table earlier and, true to form, she’d drawn a beautiful, long-legged horse right in the margin of my robin-egg-blue journal. Normally, I’d be upset about the clutter in my private thoughts, but looking at it now, it just feels like a snapshot of this season of my life. These years are messy, and they are loud, and they are filled with crayon marks, but they are ours.

I’m going to close this up now so I can help Mark with the kids and get started on a simple dinner. We’re having tacos tonight—Noah’s favorite, as long as we call them 'dino-shells.' It’s the little wins, friends. Whether it’s hitting a new mileage milestone, balancing a ledger, or just getting the kids to eat their greens, you are doing a great job. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Tomorrow is a Wednesday, which means more candle wicks and perhaps a shorter recovery walk with Megan if she can sneak away from the bakery for a bit. I’m looking forward to the smell of her cinnamon rolls almost as much as our chat. But for now, the sun is down, the house is warming up, and I am content.

Thank you for being here with me, for listening to the mundane and the milestones alike. It means the world to have a space to be honest about the grind and the grace of being a woman today. I’ll check in again tomorrow evening. Until then, take care of your hearts and your bodies.

I love you. — Lucy