Can't stop a movin' train

Today is Noah's birthday. He's 25. Yup, we're all two-ish years apart, with Jessica being almost-but-not-quite five years older than me and Noah being one year, 363 days older than me. I came home from the hospital on Noah's birthday. Not sure if a kid sister stealing the limelight of cute, squishy babyhood is the best birthday present, but I don't think he really had a choice. So today marks the anniversary of Noah's arrival on this planet (well, you know what I mean) 25 years ago. He is the best brother I've ever had and he is hilarious and very smart, always talking politics and history (sounds like someone else I know, mmmDaddy-o??). One of the reasons why I think he's the best. The hilarity never stops. We always peek at each other during the blessing at supper time. And then, in true big-brother form, Noah tells on me. I think Jesus is okay with it. I think He thinks it's funny, too. ;) Noah and Melody are fa', fa' away in New York City, fighting the good fight of crowds and tourists and subway trains and H1N1. I miss them very much. Three cheers for Noah, on his birthday!

This past weekend was Graham and Joanna Ashe's wedding--and a gorgeous wedding it was! They couldn't have asked for more perfect weather, 70 degrees and sunny, on the side of a mountain at sunset, no less. It really was a miracle--hurricane Ida cast a dark shadow on the week prior, so it was definitely good timing--God timing! Joanna was a beautiful bride and Graham a dashing groom--we can't wait 'til they get home so we can hang out! Side note, Andrew and I have been married for five months. FIVE. Count 'em. Where does the time go?

As you all know Monday was my birthday and I was showered with love and kisses and presents and cards and phone calls and texts all day and I got to buy Christmas decorations from Lowes and HomeGoods. It was almost too much joy and happiness for one poor soul to bear! Andrew and I went to the Melting Pot for a fondue birthday dinner--so. amazingly. drippy. and goooooood. We were stuffed like a coupla mushrooms. Apparently, the Swedes and the French have an on-going battle as to who "invented" fondue. They would. The Melting Pot is an interesting establishment--it's built like some kind of labyrinth with twists and turns and nooks and crannies, ("crannies??", says you), and private booths with privacy curtains. S-K-E-T-C-H-Y is all I have to say about that. Needless to say, Andrew and I did not pull the privacy curtain. We're not shy about eating fondue in public. All shady dealings aside, the food was quite delectable.

This weekend we'll be staying home, thank goodness, catching up on some QT, R&R, TLC and other acronyms. We've got a pig roast birthday party (not for me, for Michael and Grace) scheduled for Saturday evening with some friends from church and their UNC alumni pals. Sunday after church I'm going with some girls to see New Moon--don't knock it 'til you've tried it. I said the saaaame thing, "vampires? You're kidding, right?" But I read all of the books. All of 'em. In like three weeks, or as soon as I could beg, borrow, or steal the next book from my friends. Don't judge a book by its cover. Literally.

I would like to end this post with a joke that my cousin-in-law, Grant, told Barrett over the weekend: "Doctor, Doctor, can I have a new butt? Mine has a crack in it."

I don't write 'em, I just report the facts. That's it and that's all, folks. To bed, to bed.

The years go by/like stones under rushing water/ we only know/we only know when its gone.

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