Saturday was spent doing some quality swimming and blackberry picking in Sedona. See?
It sounded like a good idea to write our name on the rocks. You know, to prove we were there.
I don’t know who peed on Nicole’s potsticker. I really don’t.
I guess the device I used to write our names was fox feces. She wasn’t amused. Who am I kidding? Yes she was.
An entire year of AP bio, and they couldn’t have taught me that?
That was followed by Saturday night church at the Heights with our dear friend, Hannah. In fact, our last Saturday night church at the Heights. A tear or two might have been shed.
We’ve been going to together every week for I don’t know how long.
I guess you could say a lot of Sara and Nicole foundational moments happened on those Saturday nights.
I didn’t cry per say, but it takes a dead dog movie to get me going.
We snapped a quick self-timer on top of the car before we left. See?
Oh, and Jesus gave us another vivid sunset, just like the very first time we went.
Following those events was The Blue Quintet’s very last jazz night at Bada Beanz.
More goodbyes. And a lost moustache comb.
No really, there is a lost moustache comb floating around downtown Prescott right now.
Fingers crossed.
My Aunt Becky says I need to stop making so many references that so few people understand in this blog. Sorry, Aunt Becky, you need to take one for the team in this case.
Following those events was some star gazing and two and a half hours of doing absolutely nothing.
It was perfect.
On that not, it feels like June. But it’s not.
Keep it Real
Sara Nicole
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