{ In Which There is a Wedding }

Our friends Daniel and Lisa got married at this beautiful church in Port Gamble on November 4.

 

As if the church and white picket fence aren't already to die for, it is situated in a tiny little community FULL of beautiful old houses and white picket fences...on the water...requiring a ferry ride to get there.

 

I die.

 

 

:: Isn't this little baby on her first ferry ride the cutest thing? ::

 

 

 

:: See? Just across the street in front of the church = part of the Puget Sound! ::

 

Daniel and Lisa asked Mike to read Scripture during the ceremony, so we went to the rehearsal on Friday as well as the wedding on Sunday. The church is just as breathtaking inside as out--the walls are this amazing blue color, with ornate plasterwork along the ceiling. The original wooden pews are still in use. There is even a little balcony--you reach it by climbing the narrowest stairs ever--with stained glass windows where you can ring the bell. {The balcony also makes a nice, swanky nursing nook.} Unfortunately the light inside wasn't great so you will mostly have to use your imaginations.

 

 

:: Joanna holding Lainie's little friend Julia ::

 

The whole village of Port Gamble consists of houses like this. It looks straight out of Anne of Green Gables. I love it!

 

:: Even though it's blurry, I love this photo from the reception! Love! ::

 

Little Miss was a trooper! She fell asleep partway through the ceremony, and slept happily in the ring sling for the first couple hours of the reception. She was snug as a bug and I'm so thankful she still sleeps well when I wear her--it is a total lifesaver in situations like this.

 

Side note: Can anyone explain to me what it is about traveling that causes diapers to explode? Is it that the further you get from your home, the leakier diapers become? Or is the force with which poop is expelled proportional to the fanciness of the clothes the baby is wearing? Or is there some magical ratio of number of outfits Mom packed to number of outfits soiled? Or do ferries give baby poop special diaper-escaping powers? I'm just asking. Because Lainie pooped through two outfits before the rehearsal, and then two more before the wedding.

 

The reception was in a big one-room pavilion with huge windows overlooking the water. Gorgeous! But there wasn't anywhere to nurse or change diapers except the bathroom, so I ended up sitting on the floor of the handicapped stall to feed Lainie. Kind of gross but I am still trying not to think about it. We were leaving the bathroom at the same time as one of the waitstaff, and as she held the door open for me, she said, "Not that I was eavesdropping or anything, but the way you talk to your baby is the sweetest thing ever." That totally made up for nursing on a bathroom floor!

 

Another funny bathroom story: Right after we got to the reception hall, I went in the ladies' room to fix my hair...and a man walked out of one of the stalls. We both did a double take.

Me: "Am I in the wrong bathroom?!"

Him: "I don't know, let's check!"

He opens the door, looks at the sign, face turns white, looks at me, says, "Oh sh*t!" and bolts out.

 

At this point I should mention that there was assigned seating at the reception.

I nearly busted a rib trying not to laugh when we walked up to our table a few minutes later and this fellow and his wife were seated there, too!

 

 

:: betcha didn't know ceiling fans are hypnotic, did you? ::

And thus was the second of three weddings we're slated to attend between in September and December. Apparently it's a good time of year to get hitched!

{ I Love My Stripey Sunsuit, by Lainie Rae }

 

Wha---? You takin' pictures of me again?

 

 

Oh. Okay. I guess it's not that bad. I mean, you take pictures of me all the time. But today I'm wearin' my cute red and white sunsuit!

 

 

Horizontal stripes are SO-MUCH-FUN!! And white ruffles! And pockets!

 

 

And look how big I can stretch myself!

 

 

I'm sooooo excited, I can barely contain myself!

 

 

Really REALLY excited!

 

 

I LOVE TALKING WITH YOU MOMMY!!!

 

Okay, that's all. Bye now.

 

{This is an actual sequence of photos taken on September 7}

{ Date Night }

Right now our church is going through a sermon series called "Real Marriage," based on the book of the same name that our pastor wrote {it was just published a couple weeks ago}. All of the "community group" {what churches usually call a Bible study} are also going through the material, with individual homework assignments {tailored specifically for husbands, wives, and singles}, group discussion questions, and weekly "experiences" to put into practice what we're discussing. This week's material was about how important it is to be friends with your spouse: not just roommates, or just lovers, or just people who happen to be married, but friends. So the experience assignment was to go on a date that's just for fun: No heavy conversations, no "let's make running errands a date this week"--something fun.

Mike and I are both prone to busy-ness and can be very list- and goal-oriented; we are good at being very shoulder-to-shoulder and working together towards the same goals. It's far too easy to let those traits become prominent in our relationship, so that we're sometimes more like two people {who happen to be fond of each other} working toward the same goal, and having fun together isn't always a priority. And let's be honest...even after just 2.5 years of marriage, it's easy to get into a "rut" and just go to the same handful of restaurants, get takeout, watch a movie, or veg in front of Hulu, rather than making the effort to do something that is intentionally fun. So I was getting excited for Friday night!

Many of our dates before marriage took place in Edmonds. We have a lot of good memories there, but don't go there often anymore. So I wasn't surprised when that's where we headed. For dinner we went to The Loft, a really cool little restaurant where we went for drinks a couple times when we were dating. The inside part is tiny {and I seriously want their wallpaper in my home}, but they have a large outdoor patio in the back that's partially enclosed...meaning that it's bounded on one side by the back wall {glass} of the restaurant, on two sides by the walls of other buildings, on the fourth side by a tall wooden fence, and there's a sort of high plexiglass roof. Two of the walls have tall stands of bamboo growing against them, so it feels very outdoorsy, and yet at the same time you can look inside through the glass wall. There is also a bar with granite countertops, and lots of heat lamps, and twinkle lights strung all along the roof, and at every table there's at least one blanket in case you get chilly. I was thoroughly enchanted: Yes, let's please eat outside in January surrounded by twinkle lights and bamboo and good music and heat lamps!

We talked and laughed and flirted and took pictures of each other, just like when we were dating. Mike ordered a burger, and I had a delicious pear and gorgonzola ravioli dish. And then Mike wrote on my hand, as he is wont to do, and so I wrote on his hand, which he always tries very hard to prevent. Looks pretty good, if I do say so myself:

On the way to the car, I was sidetracked by a new frozen yogurt shop. It seems like cute little frozen yogurt shops are cropping up everywhere, and I've wanted to try one out for a while. It far exceeded my expectations!! There were probably 10 flavors to choose from, and at least 30 toppings: everything from smashed candy bars to fresh fruit {even pomegranate seeds and sliced kiwi!} to breakfast cereals to gummi bears and cookie dough. You choose your flavor{s} and toppings, and pay by weight. We decided to try pineapple, strawberry banana, and ginger lemonade, but bypassed the toppings--a good idea because it turns out that froyo ain't cheap. All the flavors were delicious, and if we lived closer I think I'd find excuses to go back regularly. Very, very regularly. Unfortunately there are no photos because we scarfed it down too fast, and because the place was swarming with high school students and we ended up eating in the car because there were no tables. {Funny side noted: as we were leaving, three teenage girls were about to go in, and one of them stopped outside the door and said, "Oh no! It's all sophomores in there!" We managed to get inside the car before we busted up laughing.}

Thank you for a wonderful, wonderful date, Honey. I love hanging out with you. I love having fun with you. I love it that we're friends.

{ Christmas 2011 }

This year, Mike and I were able to spend Christmas in Idaho with my side of the family.

I was excited.

I haven't spent Christmas with my family since 2008, when Mike and I were dating, and Mike has never been over for Christmas. Visions of the best Christmases past danced through my head:

lots of snow, falling softly at regular intervals

lots of sledding and inner-tubing on the hills outside Mom and Dad's house

caroling with their church, complete with haybales piled in trucks for the adventuresome to ride on

endless piles of delicious food

card games, board games, and laughing 'til my sides hurt

lots of time with family and friends I don't see often

Some of those things did happen, and they were lovely. We did go caroling, which was a blast. We were positively stuffed with scrumptious food, far more frequently than we ought to have eaten {I am convinced that my mother's love language is feeding people}. We spent lots of time with relatives and played card games to an extent that probably shocked Mike, coming as he does from a non-game-playing family. Other things didn't materialize--like, there was no snow. At all. For the entire eight days we were there. Unheard of!! I was so, so disappointed about that. Some attitude readjustment was definitely in order on that front. But other than the unseasonably warm weather, we had a great trip!

My brother Obediah and I decorated the Christmas tree

Mike did lots of target practice with my brothers Joe and Emery and my Dad.

One morning Joe, Mike, and my cousin Andrew went coyote hunting. They didn't get anything, but Mike spotted the only coyote they saw that day. Seriously, give boys some guns and they are happy for hours!

After paying no attention for some time, the horses decided they were interested in all the shooting that was going on

Joe looks a little worried...maybe he should try swinging, that always helps me feel better!

Beautiful view from the yard

And we played games. Oh, how we played games!! Scum, Phase 10, and rummy were the favorites. One night, my parents' friends Ralph and Sharon came over, and the eight of us played Phase 10...for hours. And hours. It was the game that never ended. Ralph sang "short people songs" to Sharon. Mom got slightly hysterical. I got completely confused and wasted one hand trying to get the phase I'd already gotten the time before. Finally, at 11:30pm, 5.5 hours after we started, Mike won. He snuck up from behind {after being stuck for many hands on phase 1 and phase 6} to win by both phases and points. It was so much fun, but we all pretty much fell into bed!

Obediah on one of his horses, Teko

One really special part of the week was getting to meet my brother Emery's fiancee, Becky. They are getting married in April, but because of how far apart we all live, we hadn't met her before. She's a sweet lady and they are so cute together!

Emery and one of several cool flashlights Becky gave him. A screwdriver head fits in the face of this one!

Joe used a plasma cutter to make this metal plaque for my dad. See the Caterpillar on top and "Steve's Shop" below? Cool!

Dad really enjoyed all the books we gave him about logging/timber/sawmilling in the Pacific Northwest.

Becky and her sister crocheted an afghan for Emery--I don't think I've ever seen him this delighted!

Since he was a butcher for several years, Joe was in charge of the prime rib roast we had for dinner.

It. Was. Fantastic. {And I'm not much of a meat-eater!}

Later on Christmas Day, while us kids were playing rummy, Dad and Mom decided to go on a walk. On their way outside, I couldn't help noticing that Dad was wearing...two belts.

Me: "Um, Dad, did you know you're wearing two belts?"

Dad: "Yup!"

Me: "Uhhhh...why?"

Dad: "One's to hold my pants up, one is for the gun!"

Since there had been a wolf kill a few miles away the night before, I guess I can't give him too much crap for that!

Emery napping with his new afghan and Zoe, Becky's dog

Sadly, this is the only decent photo I have of Emery and Becky together. It was hardly short of a miracle that she convinced him to ride a horse! Apparently Em's not much of a horse person nowadays...

One nice part about unseasonably warm weather was that we went on lots of walks. Sometimes just me and Mike, sometimes the two of us and Mom and Dad.

I really didn't take enough photos this trip. For example, one night there was a big get-together at my cousin's house, which involved lots of games and food and laughter and general craziness. I took one photo. And it's not great. See for yourself:

L-R: Audrey, Christy {my cousin, and auntie to all these little girls}, Emily, Obediah, and Kate

Gorgeous sunrise

The house where I grew up

While up on the farm, Joe built what I think is called a "crazy bike." It's basically a tricycle with two crazy wheels on the back. Because there are no flat, paved surfaces at my parents' house, he couldn't try it out 'til we went to town on the day we left. It is definitely a crazy bike. If only all the spinning and drifting didn't look like it would make me nauseous...

I'm so thankful for my family, the chance to spend a long chunk of time with them, and how graciously and eagerly they've integrated Mike right in. I'm also really grateful for how completely Mike has taken them as his family, and for all the time he took off of work so that we could spend Christmas with them. {In case you haven't figured it out already, Mike is amazing.} It was a wonderful week!

P.S. Mom, I didn't post any pictures of you because none of them were very flattering...and I know how you feel about pictures like that. ;-)

{ In Which I Reveal My Antiquity }

My husband turned 25 last month. It was a rather momentous occasion for both of us. Twenty-five is a milestone birthday: Quarter of a century, halfway to 50, etc. It's how old I turned just three weeks after we started dating {yes, yes, I'm a cougar}. So now that the fresh-faced 22-year-old man I married is now 25, that means I'm really old. Like, 3.5 years older than he is. {I'm tired. I'll let you do the math.}

As in, so old that I lose birthday presents.

Or wait--did I??

I don't know if it's just me or maybe it's the men in my family, but I have the hardest time buying gifts for my dad, brothers, and now my husband. Usually I haven't the foggiest what they'd like. After much prodding, Mike gave me a list of gadgets he'd like for his birthday and I {of course} waited till it was almost too late to order them online. The package would probably arrive before his birthday, but might possibly get here late.

As long as we've been married, Mike has gotten the mail every night on his way home from work. It's what his dad did and it works for us. As his birthday neared, I started stopping at the mailbox on the way home in case his gift had arrived. Sometimes I'd remember to tell him. Sometimes he'd walk in the front door and, slightly exasperated, exclaim, "Did you get the mail today? Because I stopped and there was nothing!"

His birthday came and went. No package. Crestfallen, I still stopped at the mailbox most days...even if it was late, I wanted it to be a surprise. A surprise that he hadn't shaken for twenty minutes before bringing it in to the house.

Finally, about a week after Mike's birthday, I decided to see if my emailed receipt had a tracking number. Sure enough, it did. I looked up the package.....and according to the USPS, it had been delivered on September 20. Three days before Mike's birthday.

I. Flipped.

We live in a condo. Every unit in our complex has a locked mailbox at a central location. Adjacent to the regular mailboxes is a bank of larger locked boxes for packages. This is the only place the USPS delivers mail to our complex. I was now faced with these possibilities: (a) someone had stolen the package {or the key for a larger box} from our mailbox; (b) the package had been put in a larger box, but the key had been accidentally put in someone else's mailbox and they had decided to keep the package; or (c) the mailman had gone nuts, driven to our unit, placed the package on our stoop, and someone had stolen it.

Two of my childhood friends' fathers work for the USPS. I was not buying (c). But I was totally revved up to chew out some poor, unsuspecting postal worker. They had screwed up my husbands 25th birthday present!!!

I called the post office from which the package had been delivered, but of course the recorded message said they only answered the phone till 3:00pm. It was 3:02.

The next day, work was really busy and I didn't have a chance to call. But I sure wanted to!

The following day was again very busy and I wasn't able to call before 3:00. It was Friday, and as usual after work I went to the grocery store. Back at my car, I unlocked the trunk to put the groceries in and....

......drugstore mailers. Missing-children fliers. A bill. Junk mail. A bubble wrap package. Strewn across the trunk of my car like....like they'd been riding around back there for ten days.

Unbelieving, I picked up the package and ripped it open. Sure enough, the phone accessories I'd purchased for Mike! I don't know how long I stood in the parking lot, holding the package, a cart of groceries next to me. I have no memory of picking up the mail and there being a package. I have no memory of putting a day's worth of mail in the trunk. Why would I put it in the trunk?!! That makes no sense! I have no need to do that. I don't put anything in the trunk except groceries. Why do I not have even the tiniest remembrance of this occurrence?

When Mike got home from work that night, I sheepishly told him of my discovery. He grinned glee at my absentmindedness and embarrassment--I'd been quite vocal regarding the mysterious disappearance of this package. That the package had actually arrived three days before his birthday, I'd gotten it from the mailbox, put it in my trunk {again, why???}, and not only forgotten about it but thought it had never been delivered for the following ten days, is quite amusing. In a really disturbing, I'm-still-in-my-twenties-and-this-does-not-bode-well-for-my-mental-capacities-in-the-future sort of way.

If you see me wandering around the internet looking lost...please take my hand and show me the way back home!

{ Laughter }

He's sitting kitty-corner to me at the dining room table, shaking with laughter so hard it's silent, face contorted and red with hysteria, forgotten sandwich still in his hand.

I'm gasping for breath, trying over and over to get the next word out between gales of laughter, not sure which is funnier--the blog post I'm reading out loud or Mike's reaction to it.

It hits me suddenly, and my stomach lurches with the realization and the sinking feeling:
When did we stop laughing?

I hadn't even noticed before. But this--me and Mike, sitting down, fooling around, sharing a funny website in the middle of a jam-packed Saturday--I don't remember the last time that happened. We're too busy for things like this. We have schedules and meetings and lots of commitments taking up the always-too-short days, and we're responsible and trustworthy and hardworking and we do what needs to be done and fall in bed exhausted late at night, only to do it all over again the next day. But we don't do this. We don't pause between the sixty-two Very Important Things slated for the day, take 15 minutes to relax together between the crush of responsibilities and activities and laugh ourselves silly over a new comedian I found. We just don't.

Mike and I, we both have a tendency to let the "cares of the world" choke us. Myself much more than Mike; he's a champion of "we are going to stop the Very Important Things we are doing and have date night." But me? I didn't even realize how serious, how goal-oriented, how lifeless my approach to life has become 'til I shared a long round of tummyache-inducing laughter with my husband. I said a little prayer of repentance in my head and, once we had sufficiently recovered our breath, I launched into another blog post--not just repentance with words, but repentance with deeds!

 Later that night over dinner, Deborah and I marvel as we watch our husbands render themselves helpless with laughter over and over again. They were roommates before we got married, Kevin and Deborah's wedding just three weeks after ours. Deborah and I grin at their joy and I shake my head: "I'd forgotten how good these two are for each other. We need to get together more often!"

Laughter, you are welcome in our home. Surprise us. Entice us. Don't let us shut you out.

{ Slip 'n' Slide }

On Saturday, newlywed friends of ours had a housewarming party {remember Luke and Joanna?}. And this was no ordinary housewarming party: Besides the best chicken kabobs, bratwurst, and chicken hot wings fresh off their new grill, there was a firepit and a slip'n'slide. Yes, you read that right--a whole slew of self-respecting, supposedly grown-up people spent the afternoon playing on a slip'n'slide. It was awesome. Perhaps that's because I don't remember if I ever went on one as a kid? Or because we had to "lube ourselves up" with dish soap prior to hurling our bodies down the plastic runway? I'm not sure.

You might want to get out your sunglasses for the next few pictures. We Pacific Northwesterners are painfully white-skinned. Seriously, in bright sunlight you have to squint.

I love this sequence of Mike + Michael sliding down together!

Joanna, the very soapy lady of the house, ensuring that the track stays well-watered. 

At one point, Michael {not my husband, the other Michael} stood at the end of the track and the guys attempted to go through his legs.

Then they decided to all go down as fast as they could--a sort of never-ending relay.

It was hilarious.

I tried twice to upload a video of the guys' relay, but blogger hates me and rejected it both times. Arrrrrgh! And in spite of how sore we all are today, and the strange bruises/grass burns/various injuries we sustained, it all just goes to prove....you're never too old for a slip'n'slide.

P.S. And I haven't even mentioned the absolutely divinely delicious spread that invited me to eat myself to oblivion! Joanna is a culinary genius: I'd never even heard of watermelon feta salad with balsamic vinegar, but that did not stop me from eating two large platefuls of it. And I had four helpings of the peach-mango-nectarine salsa, then just stood in front of the bowl and finished off two bags of chips {they were nearly empty already} by dipping them into the salsa. Gluttony, I tell you. But such delicious gluttony it was!