Wednesday Wicks and the Forty-Six Mile Fix

Hello, friends. The little blue house on Sycamore Street is finally quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the soft, rhythmic snoring of Biscuit at my feet. Mark just got home a few minutes ago, smelling like sawdust and the crisp autumn air. It is that transitional hour where the sun begins its slow descent over Cedar Falls, casting long, golden shadows across my kitchen table. I am sitting here with my robin-egg-blue journal, the one Megan gave me, trying to catch my breath before the evening rush of dinner and baths begins.

Today was one of those ordinary Wednesdays that felt surprisingly full. Since it isn’t a day for Miller’s Hardware, I dedicated my morning to 'Lucy’s Little Light.' The Etsy shop has been picking up lately, and I spent a good three hours hand-poured candle batches. My kitchen smells like spiced pumpkin and cedarwood, which is a lovely change from the usual scent of Noah’s discarded dinosaur nuggets. Speaking of Noah, he spent the morning 'helping' me by lining up his velociraptors on the counter to guard the cooling wax. He takes his job very seriously, and it made me realize how much I cherish these small moments of growth in our little family.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about self-worth and the way we value our time. For a long time, I viewed my candle making as just a little hobby, something to keep my hands busy while the kids were at school or napping. But seeing the orders come in from people I don't even know—people who want my light in their homes—it does something for my spirit. It reminds me that I am more than just a bookkeeper or a mom or a wife, though I love those roles dearly. I am a creator, and that realization has been a slow, beautiful bloom in my heart this year.

After the kids were settled with a snack, I laced up my sneakers for my training. If you’ve been following along, you know the Cedar Falls Harvest 5K is right around the corner in October. The air was cool and crisp, the kind of weather that makes your lungs feel sharp and alive. I hit the trail behind the park, and something just clicked today. I pushed through the fatigue and managed to clock in another mile, bringing my total training distance to forty-six miles. Forty-six! I can hardly believe it myself.

When I started this journey, I wasn't sure if I could even run a block without stopping. But today, as I watched the orange and red leaves blur past me, I felt strong. I felt capable. It’s not just about staying in shape or fitting into my old jeans—though that is a nice perk—it’s about proving to myself that I can do hard things. It’s about the discipline of showing up for myself every single day, even when the Iowa weather isn’t cooperating or when I’d rather be napping on the sofa.

On my way back, I saw Joanne out in her yard. She was still in that iconic pink bathrobe, though she had a cardigan over it today, deadheading her petunias before the first real frost hits. She waved her garden shears at me and shouted an encouraging, 'Go, Lucy, go!' It made me laugh, but it also reminded me of the community we have here. We are all just tending to our own little gardens, aren't we? Trying to keep things blooming as long as we can.

Marriage is a lot like those petunias, I think. It needs constant tending and the occasional pruning. Mark and I are coming up on nine years of marriage, and I find myself looking at him differently these days. When he walked in today, tired and dusty from the construction site, he gave me that look—the one that makes me feel like the most desirable woman in Cedar Falls. It’s a quiet kind of romance, found in the way he makes sure my car has gas or how he takes Emma’s horse drawings and hangs them up in his workspace.

Speaking of Emma, she had a bit of a breakthrough today too. She brought home a math worksheet, and instead of the usual horses galloping across the margins, she actually finished the problems first. We sat at the table and talked about how sometimes we have to do the 'have-to-dos' so we can get to the 'want-to-dos.' I think I was talking to myself as much as I was talking to her. It’s all part of that slow financial and personal growth I keep telling you ladies about—investing in the long game.

Financially, the candle shop is finally starting to cover its own supplies and then some. It isn't much yet, but it's a victory. It’s a small step toward the goals Mark and I have set for our future. Every time I hear that little 'cha-ching' notification on my phone, I feel a sense of pride. It’s a reminder that my efforts matter, and that little by little, we are building something meaningful here in our blue house.

I’m going to close this up now. The sun is dipping lower, and I need to start on the spaghetti before Emma’s practice. I want to make sure I have a few minutes to just sit with Mark and hear about his day before the evening chaos truly begins. Thank you for being here with me, for listening to my ramblings about running and wax and the quiet joys of a Wednesday afternoon.

I hope you all find a moment to breathe today. Remember that your progress, no matter how small it feels, is still progress. Whether you are running miles or just making it through the laundry pile, you are doing enough. You are enough.

I love you. — Lucy