Mornings

I'm madly in love with my husband all the time, but I think the time I feel most in love with him is i the morning before I leave for work. The alarm goes off and one of us hits snooze so that we can have nine minutes of half-asleep snuggling before I have to get up and get ready to go.

Once I've gotten dressed and washed my hair, if I have any time left (and I almost always do), I sit in bed with the laptop and read the news and get my mind in gear for the day. And while I'm doing that, Dave is fast asleep in the bed next to me, but even though he's asleep he'll reach out for me and scoot closer and sigh, and then all I want to do is put the computer away, turn off my phone, crawl back under the covers with him and hug him forever because I love him so much that it almost hurts my heart to feel it.

Oh sheet

I am afraid of the dark.

As a result, every time I go into our basement at night (where the overhead lights are all burned out), I am convinced that I am going to die. Our basement is a terrifying place, full of the carcasses of someone else's antique furniture and bicycles, multiple boilers and furnaces, eerie storage rooms where the darkness is so intense that it looks solid, and, for some reason, a toilet.

My terror at having to venture into the basement is my only excuse.

You see, I had to wash our sheets today. I've been meaning to do it all weekend and, with one thing and another, it just kept getting put off. I realized this afternoon that time was running out and I really had to get it done, so I stripped the bed, bundled up the sheets, and made my way downstairs, noticing only as I walked toward the door to the basement steps that it was already almost completely dark outside.

It's ok, I told myself reassuringly. There's a lamp plugged in next to the washing machine. Just get to the lamp and turn it on, and you'll be alright.

So I girded up my mental loins, clutched our sheets to my chest, held my breath, and walked down the stairs into the darkness.

There was just enough light coming in from the windows to cast bizarre shadows over the spot where the lamp had been. It wasn't our lamp, so I wasn't particularly worried about theft. I was, however, aghast to realize that I was in the basement, in the dark, with no way to turn on a light.

My first impulse was to turn and run right back up the stairs, dirty sheets and all. But I knew Dave was expecting to come home to nice, crisp, clean sheets on our bed after work, and I didn't want to disappoint him. I made my way to the washing machine, holding up my cell phone in an attempt to light my way a little bit (it didn't really work).

There were strange noises coming from the other end of the basement, an area where I have never been, because it is always dark, even when lights are on. Things creaked and groaned, and something rustled in a way that makes me almost positive that there must have been some sort of animal there. I opened the washing machine, shoved everything blindly in, dumped in the last of our laundry soap, and started the cycle.

And then I ran. I mean it. I was out of that basement seconds later, and my heart didn't stop racing until I'd double-bolted the kitchen door and turned on every single light in the house.

This is my only excuse.

You see, normally I check the laundry very carefully as I put it into the machine. I look at each individual article to make sure that I'm not mixing things that shouldn't be mixed. Laundry is domesticated chemistry, after all, and anybody who's taken chemistry knows that you need to be careful about how you put things together.

But it was dark, and I was terrified and embarrassed that I was terrified, so I rushed. And besides, it was dark. Did I mention how dark it was? And the scary noises?

I thought about just not putting the sheets in the dryer till Dave got home to either do it for me or hold my hand while I went back down into the abyss, but I knew he was expecting clean, dry sheets when he got home. So, when his brother stopped by to pick something up, I asked him to come down in the basement with me and hold off any monster attacks while I transferred the laundry. Being a good brother-in-law, he agreed.

It was still really dark though, so I just blindly felt around in the machine for all the sheets/pillowcases/etc and moved them into the dryer.

When Dave did finally got home, there were no sheets on the bed. But, just as he walked in, the buzzer went for the dryer.

"It's dark in the basement. There's no light, and I was ascared," I said. Yes, I really did say 'ascared'. That should tell you how ascared I really was.

"Oh," he said. "Is there dinner?"

"Tell you what," said I. "I will make you some dinner if you go down into the horrible basement and get the sheets and make the bed.

We called it a deal and he went to get the sheets. When he came back up, he had a funny look on his face.

"Well," he said, "we have yellow sheets now."

I think I made a "bguh?" kind of noise as I turned to look. Alas! When I'd pulled the sheets off the bed, they'd fallen on the floor and gotten tangled up with a very pretty orange and red scarf that I recently bought. In the dark, of course, I didn't notice that it was there, so the scarf went into the washing machine on the hot/whites cycle with our formerly pristine white sheets.

Now, all's well that ends well, so I will say that the dye mixed very evenly with the sheets, and now it just looks like we've owned very pretty butter yellow sheets all along. We agreed that we'd both be more upset if the color wasn't so attractive.

Still, I really liked our sheets. They were an expensive wedding present, and I find white sheets to be a most delightful thing. I guess now I'll have to buy some new ones.

I just feel like an idiot, because it's such a typical, traditional kind of mistake for new wives and housekeepers to make, and I know that I ought to have known better. I feel like a character in a 1950's cautionary tale.

But it was so, so dark.

Markon '09

I can't imagine that I haven't mentioned in the past how totally awesome our wedding-stravaganza was. One of the awesome things about it was seeing all of our old school friends who we never get to see, and hanging out with them. Apparently, they felt the same way about it, because at our wedding some of them hatched a plan to get together again and hang out for a weekend.

One of them, Mark, decided that the perfect opportunity for this was his birthday. We all made plans over the summer, and this past weekend we got together for what was officially dubbed Markon '09. Mark knows Dave from the Order of St. George, a club they were in together in college (Dave was president for three years). So, all the old guard of the OSG group core (and their wives) rented out hotel rooms, road tripped, and met up on Friday night for some good times, old school style.

We carpooled down with Dave's brother and his iPod, which meant a rad rockin' in-the-car dance party that involved Dave and Matt singing along to ABBA's classic hit Dancing Queen. They knew all the words. I'm not sure how that happened.

Most of the weekend was given over to OSG's favorite activity of tabletop gaming. It's not something I've ever really done before, but I was willing to give it the old college try, so to speak, for the sake of Mark's birthday and Dave having a good time during the weekend. I'm not sure it's something I'd care to do all the time, but it was a lot of fun.

On Saturday night, everyone dressed up in 1920's-era costuming (more or less) and went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. To be honest, the restaurant wasn't anywhere near as exciting as it should have been for the price, but it was fun to get dressed up and go somewhere nice all the same.

Matt, Cody and I play ADVENTURE!

On Sunday, we wrapped up the gaming and then all went out to Primanti Brothers for lunch. Primanti Brothers is a Pittsburgh institution, known for their crazy sandwiches, which have cole slaw, cheese, and french fries on them. It is magical and delicious.

It was a great weekend. Even better, though, was coming back to the kitties and our own home.

Oops

I just realized that I haven't written anything here in a month. My excuse is that the "S" key on our keyboard is being sticky and so it's frustrating to write.

Here is a summary of our recent news:

I got a job. It's nannying--it's fun, it pays well, I'm working full time, and we've doubled our income. That feels good, cause we were pretty broke.

Now that we have some money, and now that the weather is cooling down enough that we are no longer wandering around in a soporific heat-zombie haze, we've started to look about ourselves and turn our apartment into someplace where grownups live. This is an improvement over its previous appearance, which can best be described as a glorified storage facility.

Today we rearranged the living room, hung artwork and clocks, and put up curtains. It's amazing how curtains and a few paintings will make a whole room suddenly feel like a "real" room, even if it's still a mess. There are boxes and things everywhere still, but it feels much more put together all the same.

I sprained my foot at LARP a week ago. Still sore, because I haven't been keeping off of it. Whoops. There is a somewhat less-than-thrilling tale connected to it that I may share at some point. Mostly I'm just annoyed because I didn't hurt it doing something fun and/or glorious out in the woods in the middle of the night. I did that for 3 1/2 hours without so much as a stumble.

Also, we bought a real live grownup alarm clock today after three months of using cell phones with alarm tones that we hate. It is a fancy schmancy $12 dealie from Wal-Mart that wakes you up with either alarm clock bells, cathedral bells, or wind chimes. It also plays noises to help you fall asleep. I am currently listening to the "ocean" setting ("brook" had too many frogs and not enough running water, and "wind chimes" was essentially an Enya song that never made it to the vocals). I feel sleepy already.

Now that I'm settling in to a work routine and our house is finally, finally getting to a state where it's set up, it's finally beginning to sink in for me that we are for-real married and not just on some glorious temporary vacation from life. It's a good feeling, but surreal in a too-good-to-be-true sort of way. Does that make sense? After the last year, my brain is convinced that seeing Dave every day means that I am on vacation from whatever drudgery I am normally involved in, ergo the fact that I see Dave every day--well, you see what I'm saying. The idea that I can live real life and see Dave every day is novel and exciting.

I think there were other things I was going to say, but, although I was being facetious about it a few minutes ago, the ocean sounds and seagulls really are starting to make me sleepy, so more later.

A Wee Update

Hello, friends and family.

Well, we just keep on keepin' on, so to speak. Dave is still looking for teaching work, but there is still a prospect or two on the horizon so keep praying for him. He did get hired as a tutor with the Princeton Review, which won't be enough for him to be able to leave his current job, but will be really nice supplemental income.

And speaking of supplemental income, I have discovered something. While I would love to stay home every day, and enjoy the theory of it immensely, I'm not sure it's worth the boredom when Dave works 12-hour days combined with the anxiety of being so close to the wire financially speaking. So, I've been looking around for some work and I've got a few prospects.

Of the three phone interviews I've had, all of them went well and were promising. One netted an in-person interview and got me to the next step of the vetting process. Of the other two, I have another interview tomorrow, and one interview that has yet to be scheduled. All of them are for part-time or extremely part-time work, but two or three of them in combination would make a huge difference in our current money situation, so let's all keep fingers crossed, yes?

We went to another LARP event this past weekend, which was super fun. I've got a new project--sewing a dress for my lovely sister-in-law--and we're continuing to settle in well to married life.

Someday I'll get the wedding photos posted, I promise.

Anyway, I have patterns to cut out and things to pin, so that's all for now.

Thoughts

I've spent the last hour or so in the kitchen, scrubbing pots, scrubbing counters, and dealing with rancid food that didn't get cleaned out of a pyrex dish soon enough. Let me tell you, rotten curry is NOT a good smell. I also cooked spaghetti for my lunch. By the time I was done with an hour of running the hot water and boiling more water in a pot, the kitchen was so hot that when I opened the freezer to get ice cubes out, the clouds of "steam" that poured out of it were so thick that I couldn't see.

These are the things I learned today:

• When my kitchen is clean, I feel dramatically better about life in general
• It is always better to wash things immediately after they get dirty, especially if you are OCD and prone to minor panic attacks about touching mold or rotten food. (You'd think I would have internalized that one sooner. Sorry, mom and dad.)
• Cooking isn't as much fun when it's only for me
• If you don't like pears, but you buy them for your husband and he eats all but one of them and then loses interest, eventually that lone pear will start to rot, until its insides liquefy and turn into something that smells very much like vinegar, and looks very much like maple syrup. This will drip out of your fruit bowl and onto your cutting board, and you will feel stupid when you finally find it under an avocado and realize that that's why you can't get rid of the fruit flies in your kitchen. Ew.
• Housework is much better when, upon its completion, you can flee back to your air-conditioned bedroom

This is what God is teaching me about marriage, love, and dying to self: that I, who hate making beds (especially beds that are merely a mattress on the floor and are up against a wall), will make the bed when I get up, not because I was asked, but because when my husband comes home from work tonight, I want him to have an inviting place to lie down and rest.

The Honeymoon Wraps Up

Well, it's time to settle down into real life again, I suppose. We're coming up on our 1-month anniversary of married-dom. I'm not entirely sure how it went by so quickly, but it's probably because we were so busy being totally freaking rad that we forgot to notice the passage of time.

We've been enjoying our wedding gifts--some, I confess, more than others. For instance, the two lovely clocks we got still aren't on the wall... but our salad bowl gets used nearly every day, all of our towels have been through the rotation at least once, and our sheets are soft and comfortable. The two dutch ovens we got have been seeing a lot of action, and I spent two full days glued to my new sewing machine, making a LARP costume for Dave.

Highlights of the honeymoon:

1. Excellent food! I keep meaning to take pictures and then not doing it, which I think I'll regret later. I've been trying to make bread, and we've been doing almost all of our shopping at Whole Foods (with the occasional jaunt to Giant Eagle for dry goods). We've done a good job of sticking with mainly fresh produce, usually local and/or organic. Very little processed food. Very lots of deliciousness. For instance, last night we rubbed a chicken down with rosemary, sage, thyme, coriander, garlic, and olive oil, then roasted it in the dutch oven and made couscous in the broth when it was done cooking. Now we have half a chicken left--the meat for chicken salad, the bones for stock. We've also identified several restaurants that we really like, including Lemongrass (for Thai food) and the Jerusalem Grill (very very tasty falafel).

2. Lots of sleep. This is a big one for me, because historically I have wicked insomnia. Well, no more. It's boring to stay up once Dave is ready for bed, so I don't. And it's a lot easier to fall asleep when someone else is being sleepy next to you and insisting that it's time for bed. I've gone from an average 3-4 hours of sleep a night with lots of waking-up in between to an easy 9-10 hours a night.

3. Trip to New York. We went up to ye olde homestead in upstate New York for July 4th to put in an appearance at my family's yearly reunion. Highlights-within-highlights include a picnic at the rest stop overlooking Chautauqua Lake, illegal home-launched fireworks, really good catered food, Scrabble, and a comedic little interlude involving us, naptime, a locked door, a trio of 13-year-old cousins, a video camera, and the roof outside of our windows.

4. Movies. We saw Public Enemies and Harry Potter in the theater. I recommend either or both to any reader of this blog. They were lots of fun. We've also been watching lots of movies at home, thanks to Netflix and the awesome TV my oldest brother and his wife gave us for our wedding.

5. Trip to West Virginia. This is probably going to warrant an entire post on its own once I get photos. We went to a Live Action Roleplaying event down in Wheeling, West Virginia. That was pretty much the final Big Event of our honeymoon, which is funny given that the camp rules prohibited us even from kissing or hugging during the weekend. That being said, it was tons and tons of fun and I want to go do it again, maybe when the weather cools down to a more reasonable temperature.

6. My birthday! As of yesterday, I am 25 years old. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction at having got married before this happened. Dave gave me a new sewing box for my birthday, after watching me ogle the ones at JoAnn's for an unreasonable amount of time. For someone who doesn't sew himself, he showed excellent taste. It's roomy and attractive and will match the other things I own. Win.

We've been slowly (and I do mean slowly) unpacking things, washing all the clothes that have sat in garbage bags for the last month while we moved and got married and did more important things, and organizing our kitchen. We're getting to know our neighbors. There's a couple living on the second floor who seem to be a lot of fun, and a very friendly guy lives on the corner just across the street from us. He came over yesterday to introduce us to his dog, Puff Daddy, and to inform us that he lives in the house where Paul Newman was born.

Maybe now that I'm all caught up it will be easier to go back to individual blog posts about one thing instead of these massive catch-up summaries.

Et voila. Our honeymoon.

Wedded bliss

So, I'm pleased to report that being married is The Best Thing Ever. Seriously. Couldn't be better, unless perhaps we were independently wealthy and Dave never had to leave and go to work.

We've been enjoying our wedding gifts heartily, from the artwork on the walls to the dishes in the kitchen to the towels in the bathroom. I feel so loved and taken care of, and surrounded by the love of our friends as well as the love of my husband.

Speaking of experimenting with wedding gifts, we got a cast iron dutch oven and I decided to use it to try making the New York Times' No Knead Bread recipe. We had Dave's brother over to sample it (along with some pate, merlot, and camembert).

I'm going to be making a post about the recipe and the process, because it's so easy that nobody who reads this blog has an excuse not to try it for themselves and enjoy its deliciousness. Seriously, we've been seriously discussing just not buying store-bought bread anymore.

But that post isn't ready yet (the pictures need to be edited). In the meantime, I will give you this spoiler--a photo of my beloved in our home, getting ready to share good food with people we love. I don't know that I could get a much better portrait of him--wifebeater, tattoos, good food, good drinks, good friends, and a radiant smile. Throw in some books and there's the love of my life.

Showing off the first meal ever
served to guests in our home

I really like it when things that I think are going to be really good turn out to be not just really good, but mind-blowingly wonderful.