Walk it out

A Springtime walk and some scenes from my favorite route in Chapel Hill.

A view up the road from our house.

Standing on the corner looking towards campus/UNC Hospitals. The cranes are helping build a new Dental school building. Gorgeous blue sky!

A house with heaps of potential, but coed residents keep it in a constant state of junkiness. Boo.

Another house with loads of potential.

Beautiful blooms!

From gloom to green in a few short weeks.

A little NC dogwood for you.

The Jimmy Dean Dome. (haha ;) )

Uphill. A.k.a. buns and thighs.

More potential.

The weirdest architectural design ever. It's scowling at me.

Azaleas!

I have to tell you, it feels good to sit and take a breath! The last few weeks have been a whirlwind and the next few weeks are not looking to slow down either. We went to Rhode Island to see my brother, Noah, graduate from the Navy's Officer Candidate School (Delta Company ROOLZ.) And we went to Hendersonville for Easters. And then I got a horrible cold. And we worked and drove and packed and drove and packed some more. Our time of residence in Chapel Hill is coming to a close and just when we want to slow down and take it all in, everything goes to warp speed and it's over before we know it. Ain't that the truth? Pray for us in this time of transition, pleaseandthankyou.

Also, was the Royal Wedding not spectacular?! I loved it! AND my wonderful husband got up at 4am with me to watch it live so that I would not be oo-ing and ah-ing alone. What a peach. :)

Bonne Saint Valentin!

To my one and only Valentine,

I love you to the moon and back, forever and a day. You're the syrup to my waffles, the creamer to my coffee, the jelly to my toast.

You just make everything sweeter!

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! On a day all about love, don't forget to tell the ones you love the most how much they mean to you. Hallmark may be making a killing, but Love wins in the end.

I didn't have to pee in the woods. But I would have if it came down to it.

My life is straight-up bananas right now. So sorry if my lack of blogging has messed up your morning routine. But I'm not going to tell you a sob story about how busy I am. 'Cuz I don't have time for that.

So. Andrew and I both grew up camping every summer and sometimes fall. Ironically enough, my family went from the beach to the mountains, just minutes from Andrew's parents' house and Andrew's family went from the mountains to the beach, a few hours north of my parents' house. We probably passed each other on the highway. Good thing we didn't meet back then though. I was pretty squirrely. Like I'm not now. Right.

Anyway, Andrew and I decided to take our first fledgling camper steps as newlyweds last weekend, at a state park only a half hour from our apartment. We kept it simple--tent, stove, sleeping bags--got everything in the car and headed out Friday afternoon to spend the night in the woods. (Which has always been kind of been an enigma to me. But whatever.)

Plastic bins always get the job done.

We got to the campground just as the sun was setting--we tried and tried to get there before dark, but Ranger Rick and his Girlscout assistant gave us a site that already had someone in it so we had to go back to their little hut and switch sites. We ended up pitching our tent and starting the fire during the wee twilight hours of the evening. (This has nothing to do with vampires, for those of you who's hearts just skipped a beat).

I built the fire, Andrew pitched the tent. Contraptions are not my thing.

We decided to be super low maintenance in the grub department: hot dogs, baked beans, and s'mores for dinner and coffee and biscuits on a stick for breakfast, granola bars while we were ABSOLUTELY DYING for our biscuits to get done. Easy peasy lemon squeesy. I can't say much for the nutritional value of these meals, but who counts calories while they're camping? You look like a swamp creature anyway, (remember you forsook your nice warm bed to sleep on a leaky air mattress in the middle of the woods that happens to be less than two miles from the highway. And BONUS, it's frickin' freezing Mr. Bigglesworth.), so who cares if you feel a bit squidgy around the middle, too. Right? Right. I love camping.

I know what you must be asking yourself: what on earth is a biscuit on a stick??? Well, Reader, they are only the most delightful, if just a hair troublesome, camping breakfast foodstuff that will ever cross your lips in the pale blush hours of the morning.

What you need:

Biscuits
Sticks
Fire
Critical Thinking Skills

Acute hunger makes men do crazy things.

YUM!

We filled ours with grape jelly, but you could use honey, butter, strawberry jam, chocolate...oh, the possibilities!

Our first solo camping trip was a great success--we enjoyed ourselves immensely and might even do it again sometime. Heh, heh. Although if I had to choose camping or Christmas, I'd choose Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas!...I started decorating this weekend. I KNOW! My obsession is out of control. But I just love it. Pictures will follow forthwith!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

Except this ain't Paris.

I don't believe in the mountaintop--valley undulation of life. I believe that there are always good things and hard things happening in a person's life at the same time. There are always things to be thankful for. And things to pray fervently for. Things to cry about. Things to laugh about. The principal drivers of this concept, however, are perspective and disposition. You can always look at the bright side, denying that any wrong ever overtook you. Or you can be Debbie Downer and latch on to the negative aspects of any situation and deem your scenario doomed from the start. I hope to be neither, but with God's grace and wisdom, praise Him for the blessings and ask for strength and perseverance during trials and tribulations. Yes, Lord and Amen.

Of course. Here I am, two weeks in to my new job and nomadic lifestyle, missing my husband and my old,  "comfortable" life terribly. I understand now, why God was so frustrated with the Israelites for wanting to go back to Egypt. They had forgotten all that He had done and all of the promises He fulfilled. Yes, three days after witnessing the miraculous parting of the Red Sea, having nothing to drink, they looked at each other in dismay and said, "What shall we drink???" I think God may have said something along the lines of, "what the...?"

Two weekends ago, (which seems like an eternity!), Andrew and I packed up our apartment and moved 15 minutes up the road to good ol' Chapel Hill. Sounds simple, right? WRONG. It's amazing how much CRAPOLA one can accumulate in a year. All occasion cards and seasonal decorations. Bills and coupons. Office supplies and camping gear. Not to mention furniture. Oy vey! It was just the two of us and because of my schedule we had basically 36 workable hours to get everything packed, moved, and unpacked to a livable state. Friday night, Saturday day and evening, Sunday morning and early afternoon. It was hellacious. There's no other word. We were both tired to begin with and we just didn't realize how much stuff we had. Plus, since we hadn't seen each other in a week we really just wanted to relax and hang out. And I had a bad attitude. Whoops? Sorry, Andrew. Anyway, we did get everything done, just in the nick of time. We even got our monstrous couch in the narrow front door by removing the screen door, the front door, the couch legs, and pushing and pulling like freakin' lumberjacks with one of those big ol' toothy saws! YEAH! A big ol' toothy saw! Ahem. We got the couch in without [really] damaging anything. Much.

The chaos. PS, Thanks, Ulta, for all the boxes. And a great summer.

So, we moved from here to there, from hither to thither. When I get off of work on Thursday, I will be going home to hopefully put our little bungalow to rights, so that we have a comfy, cozy, albeit teensy-weensy, apartment to call casita. Pray for us.

In other news, Brad and Cory got hitched this weekend in a beautiful, God-filled ceremony in Hendersonville, NC.

The newly minted Coopers!

Yay for weddings and yay for marriage! Cowabunga, dudes. I gotta go to sleep.

Five Second Rule

It seems like that's the governing principal in my life right now. That I'm only in one place for five seconds at a time. In the last two weeks I have been from Charleston to Chapel Hill to Hendersonville and back again what seems like a bazillion times. Which is, truly, a very large number.

And I'm the one who signed up for it. And it's okay. So far, I love my job. It's not okay that I get to see my husband only on the weekends and that we feel like we have to be "doing something" in order to be using our time wisely, (you know, instead of grocery shopping, cleaning, watching movies...living "normal" life", if you will). But alas, there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven. Not sure which season and time this is, but undoubtedly, we will look back and be able to pinpoint God's faithfulness and sustenance in our lives. Cuz He's just like that, you know? Yup.

Anyhow, TODAY is Brad and Cory's wedding and Andrew and I couldn't be more thrilled to be surrounded by family and friends again! The string of common weddings has gone from a steady stream to a dwindling trickle, though. We've got to come up with other reasons to see our Clemson family! Reasons that don't involve high heels. Just sayin'.

Anyhow, as Ol' George G. used to say, "Life is just a bowl of cherries, so live and laugh at it all".

Welp, I've got to go get ready to be a program giver-outer lady. High heels, and all. Ciao!

PS--I'll [hopefully] be able to post more on the move and my job later. I just, you know, had five seconds to write a quick blurb. Stay tuned.

A few days in Charleston: Episode Three--A "Hair"-brained scheme

Oh, hey Bieber, what's up? Oh, you want a haircut?? OKAY!


Step right up!


Hey, quit stealing all my hair rubber bands.


This one I fondly dubbed, "Friar Tuck/Overjoyed Sumo Wrestler".


And this one is "Rod Stewart".


This one is "I just got out of prison and I ain't never seen a cell phone."


If I hadn't grabbed it from him at just the right time he would have shaved off his eyebrows.


Nearly there!


He's BAAA-ACK!!!


Ah. Thank ya, JESUS. Y'all's prayers must've worked. ;)

A few days in Charleston: Episode One--Liar, liar.

Tuesday evening Andrew and I set out on a mid-week trip to Charleston, one, to spend time with my lovely sister, Jessica, and two, to pull off an epic surprising of my mother who was completely unawares of Jessica's imminent arrival.

First, we fleeced our own mother. We lied. Oh, man we told big fat falsifications and prevarications--by hook or by crook, we lied the whole two weeks before just to make sure Mama was totally in the dark.

Lie #1. Andrew had a meeting with WaterMissions on Wednesday, so we needed to come on Tuesday.
Lie #2. I had to work on Tuesday evening but they were going to let me off early, oh, around eight o'clock.
Lie #3. Jessica wasn't going to be able to come home this summer for lack of funds.

First, we made sure we had a mole planted on the inside to watch Mama's every move. The mole: my father. An ex-Army Seaman, this guy knows his stuff. The stealth factor is unlimited, not to mention his iron emotions when faced with probing questions.

Then we chatted with her, but no too often so as not to cause alarm or suspicion, and nonchalantly planted the "meeting with WMI" seed, noting a noncommittal day and time of the meeting, and reiterating the "we're not sure, but we'll let you know" right down to the last second.

Once we recovered Jessica's flight information via email reconnaissance, we launched Operation No Jessica Left Behind and planned to use my retail job as a cover--a likely story--so that we were unable to get home until around 12:30.

Mama's clock put us getting home late, when in actuality we would arrive at the Charleston International Airport just in time to meet Jessica at midnight, gather her belongings and arrive when Mama expected us. We hmmed and hawwed via text message about the "traffic" and our "arrival time", but in reality, we had left a little after seven, stopped at Chic-fil-a to pick up rations, and were on our way much earlier than expected.

When we walked in the front door, as expected, Mama was a-snoozin' in the bed, but Daddy was posted on lookout by the computer monitoring system he had rigged up using his MacGyver-Army training picked up back in 'Nam. Jessica military crawled it into the dining room as Mama sleepily came down the stairs. Andrew and I hugged and kissed all around and when we were about to head into the kitchen, BOOM! Jessica pounced on Mama like a cat on a mouse! You shoulda seen my mother's face! PRICELESS. Jaw to the floor, bug-eyed, and totally agog. (AGOG--look that one up and put it in your word bank. Cha-ching!)

Ah, sweet success. And that was only the beginning.

As SK would say, "YEAR WON!"

As some of you might've noticed, whether in pictures or in person, my dear husband's hair is getting rather long. As in Huckleberry Finn/Tom Sawyer long. As in Justin Bieber long. As in he desperately wants a certifiable ponytail before his youth has waned and the sun has set on the "it's my steez" excuse long. Why? I assure you I cannot figure that out. I tease him and try to embarrass him into shaving his head, but he will not have it. I think this might be one of those "pick your battle" moments. At least he bathes regularly.

Last weekend, Sunday to be exact, was our ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! Hip, hip hooray! Whew. And what a year it's been! Many ups and downs, highs and lows, but we wouldn't trade a day.


{Photograph: Brian Tropiano} Here we are, June 6, 2009. What a blessed day. So. In light of our Bob Cratchit finances, we were blessed with some hotel points from Mike and were able to take a mini-vacation for one night to a fancy hotel. In Raleigh. That's right. 30 minutes away. Hey, vacation is a mind-set, people. We had it all figured out: we'd leave straight from church, have lunch, go to the hotel and act like we just arrived in the Florida Keys. It was SO MUCH FUN! And just for the record, when I walk in to a hotel room, I run around into all the areas of the room exclaiming over how great everything is. And then I tamp down the urge to drop everything and jump on the bed. And BONUS, ol' Robert, the concierge, UPGRADED us to a SUITE that went for $500 a night. (Um, thank you Lord?) That's more than 2/3 of what it costs us to rent our apartment for a month. Yowza. Needless to say, we were totally stoked out of our minds.


Sittin' on the couch. Yep, it's a self timer. Documentation is my purpose in life.


The living room area. Soaking up the square footage.


The bathroom was bigger than my kitchen and had his and hers sinks, a huge jacuzzi tub, and a shower with approximately 87 shower heads. And a TV behind the mirror in front of the sinks. Yeah. I know.


The bedroom area--behind me was the balcony to the front of the hotel, and, obviously, the bathroom was connected to the bedroom as well.


The screen behind the mirror. I know it looks weird--but the mirror is in a frame if that helps to see. The picture was faint, (like it was behind a mirror, doiii), but it had great sound and it was easy to change the channels and everything. Snaaazzzyyyy!


I meannnn, you can't go on vacation without snacks.


The view from the balcony to the front of the hotel. Please, do me a favor and scroll up and compare Andrew's wedding hair to his current hair. Pray for me.


I'm a little bit shiny, and a bit winded, but it's probably because I had just finished running around the room and jumping up and down. {Dress: Target; Belt: J.Crew; Necklace: Buckar/my amazing, thoughtful, loving, doting, extravagant husband!}


Right before the rain, walking back to the hotel after dinner and ice cream. Perfection.

Rain "Orr" shine, they tied the knot!

Looorrrdy do. I've got to sit down. The last six days have been a crazy whirlwind. Andrew and I have been to Hendersonville, Clemson, and Charleston--all in the name of fidelity, family, and friendship. The first leg of our trip was to Hendersonville, to crash for the night and to see Zach's new digs, (and what shiny and spacious digs they are), and catch up with old pals that we haven't seen since I-don't-know-when. Andrew and I went our separate ways on Saturday morning--him to Lake Wateree for another friend's nuptials, me to Pendleton for a sweet, sophisticated bridal luncheon with Jamie and Friends. I left with moments to spare and only took one wrong turn, (even though I had the GPS--hey, sometimes you can't really tell where the purple line is. Geez). Still, I had to shimmy out of my shorts and into my skirt on the road, tempting the Fates and testing my flexibility and concentration. I made it in time for mimosas and excited chatter and the powers that be were none the wiser of my tardiness.

Saturday afternoon, sans husband, the Girls 'n' I made our way to the amphitheater at the Botanical Gardens at Clemson, just in time for the first raindrops to splat on the stones and drive us inside to the Madren Center to rehearse for the Big Day. We dined in style at The Galley with friends and family surrounding Jamie and Kent with kind words, encouragement, laughter, and advice. I'm pretty sure anyone with a propensity for tears was boo-hooing, Yours Truly included. I just can't take it when grandfathers, dads, or brothers get choked up, man! And then, of course, Steph with her life altering friendship with Jamie--I was a goner. For sure. It was one for the books. And for a few, one worth a "To-Go" box.

Sunday fun-day was Wedding Day and all the girls convened in the Bridal suite at the Martin Inn, dresses, shoes, and earrings in hand. Oh, and bobby-pins, hairspray, and waterproof mascara, too. It was a morning of finger foods and up-do's, cameras clicking and champagne glasses clinking, peals of laughter and a few crocodile tears, too. A quick change of ceremony venues because of the deluge outside--not without careful consideration--and we were set to see Jamie and Kent get hitched in a few short hours. The ceremony was beautiful--heartfelt and bursting with Truth, reminding us of our purpose, marriage's purpose, and Christ's heart of love for his people. Jamie was absolutely. STUNNING. I'm so serious. I've seen some beautiful brides in my time, but Jamie was just magazine picture perfect! We partied the afternoon away, and saw the freshly minted Orrs off with Clemson orange pompons (yes, I mean "pompons". Look it up.) and glow-sticks lighting their way.

Then. Andrew, Chris, and Jennigray and I began the arduous journey back to Charleston. Jennigray rode with me until Orangeburg and we giggled and chatted until she had to make the switch. The rest of the way home, I had to blast the radio and slap my leg in time to keep myself awake and alert to make it home. I was "le tired", as the French say. Andrew and I made it home safely, a little after one AM, and were greeted by my parents and my Big Brother, Noah, who is a hot-shot bartender in New York City. No, really. He is. We all hung out for the first part of the week until I had to get back yesterday. Noah taught us how to make some yummy cocktails, but more on that later.

Last night as I was driving back to the Triangle, a hurricane whipped up right above Stella and me and dogged us for about 50 miles. It was terrifying, to say the least. To say the most, I could not see but a few feet in front of my car, (there's a reason they call it "blinding rain"), water covered the road, and Lightening reached her bony, spindly fingers into our atmosphere every few minutes, with booming Thunder as her hair-raising side kick. I wanted to pull over and ugly-face cry. But I didn't. I gripped the steering wheel and squinted into the distance, cursing every 18-wheeler that sped by me, totally disregarding Stella's and my fragile state. We made it, though. A bowl of Multi-Grain Cheerios later and I was in bed, a-snoozin' away.

And I will leave you with this...moments before becoming Mrs. Jamie Blackwell Orr!

A dweam wiffin a dweam.

If there's something Andrew and I have learned in the last 344 days of being married, it's how to cope under uncertain circumstances and handle change like champs. We've had our fair share of setbacks, letdowns, and disappointments, but we've also had a good measure--poured out and shaken down--of blessing. We've been faced with crisis and have hashed things out and still been able to look each other in the eye (just one) ;). So much of what we have dealt with has been a result of unmet expectations--about jobs, family, time commitments, household stuff, etcetera--everyone has a picture of "what it will be like when we're married", and inevitably, that picture may become a little blurred once the wedding bells ring. We've learned more about ourselves and each other and, the third entity in our relationship--our marriage itself--than we ever thought possible in a few weeks shy of a year. We've peeled back one tiny layer of what it means to actually serve our marriage, and laid a few bricks of the foundation of our union: forgiveness. You see, many unsuspecting newlyweds think that communication is the bedrock of a good marriage. You know, talking things out. While I'm definitely not discounting good conversation, I really believe in my heart of hearts that without forgiveness--real forgiveness--a marriage is doomed: not necessarily to divorce, but to bitterness, coldness, to ending up being more like business partners, or "ships passing in the night", instead of friends and lovers. So many arguments and altercations are the result of each person's individual unmet expectations, (as we've noticed), about an event or issue, not actually what was said or done in the situation--hence, forgiveness as the most necessary and stabilizing force in any marriage, days old or ripened with age.

I also think that "premarital counseling" as preparation for marriage is a ruse--a few meetings with a pastor aren't going to prepare you to absorb a whole 'nother person: "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife; and they will become one flesh." (Genesis 2:24) Last time I checked, 1+1≠1. But, that's why God's in the business of miracles. One of my goals for our marriage is that we attend some form of marriage counseling periodically through the years--even if we don't think we "need" it. That way, we at least have some perspective of what it's like to be married, instead of what it's like to dream about being married and in the meantime make a bazillion phone calls about wedding plans. :) And, just for good measure, I'm not saying that premarital counseling should be done away with entirely--everyone should be looked squarely in the face by a man of the cloth and told exactly what their getting into--however, I wish there was a "follow up" bit of sorts, like on your first three anniversaries or something. Anyway, a girl can dream.

That's my two cents, a few weeks premature of our first anniversary. It's ok, though. I'm not shy. So, take it or leave it. But if you take it, leave some for everyone else.

Post script: for some challenging, truthful, old school literature on marriage check out As For Me and My House by Walter Wangerin. CLUTCH.

Who puts the "G" in ROY G. BIV?

I do! If you don't know what I'm talking about, you should probably track down your fifth grade science teacher. (I'm sure he's on facebook, so it should be a snap.) So, the "G" stands for greeeeeeen and even though I've already done a "going green" post (about switching to green household cleaners) I read a blog post this weekend by a girl I went to high school with about the amount of plastic trash she picked up on the beach during a surfing "sesh" in California where she lives. Long story short, the slogan litter trashes everyone finally got through my thick skull. Now, I was raised a tree hugger--my parents recycle everything, they compost, grow their own vegetables and other sundry foods--but now that I'm an adult and very mature ;) I decided to take one more baby step towards doing my part to save this planet from choking on it's own discarded shiitake, pardon my Japanese. I purchased (for $0.99 each) five reusable totes from Harris Teeter. One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind, right? Right. And, BONUS, when they wear out, you take them back to Harris Teeter and they replace them fo' free!



(I know, who takes pictures of their groceries? I'm trying to create visual interest here, people. Sheesh.)

"Going green" has definitely become trendy--kind of like celebrity philanthropical endeavors--but it's a trend I'm happy to hop on board with--I think because--unlike tights, platform stilettos, bib necklaces, mismatching patterns, coral lipstick, and mauve nail polish--it's benefiting others and not just the proprietor, -er the tote toter. And, hey, it might actually have some staying power. I hope so.

The reason I rushed out and bought reusable grocery bags is because plastic (not just bags) is one of the major perpetrators (80%!!!) of ocrean litter--one of them being a giant floating trash island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Growing up on the coast, I just remember as a teenager going to the beach every other day--or every day-- in the summer and seeing people leaving their solo cups, water bottles, Chick-fil-a cups, or whatever in the sand as they gathered up their towels and beach chairs to head back to the beach house. Or seen someone literally watch their empty cup, can, plastic bag tumble down the beach in the wind and not even move a muscle to retrieve it. Just because you're on vacation doesn't mean you get to take leave of your senses, people! Gah! As the tide rises it inevitably sweeps all that trash out into the ocean for any of the sealife to mistake it for a tasty meal. How would you feel if you sat down to tuna tartare and moments too late realised it was trash tartare? Not cool, humans. Not cool. Epic FAIL.

BUT. Now is the time to redeem ourselves. Ever heard the saying many hands make light work? Well, it's true. Everyone can do their part to lighten our planet's load and preserve the beauty of God's creation for present and future generations. Do it. You know you want to.

The Saturday Morning Post

This whole week went by without me writing so much as a single, durn thing. Sorry 'bout that. Trust me though, you probably wouldn't have wanted to read about it anyway. Booooooo-riiiiiing. Yes. Except 24 on Monday night. OHMYGOSH. And that's all I'll say.

This week, Andrew had to get all shot up for his stint in Haiti this summer--oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. Andrew's going to Haiti this summer with Water Missions International--


WMI - Haiti from Water Missions.

saving the world one cool drink of water at a time. Anyway, he had to go to the clinic and receive no less than five shots, three in one arm, two in the other: Hepatitis A, Typhoid, Diphtheria Tetanus & Pertussis (DTap), seasonal flu, and H1N1. And we're probably lookin' at Malaria meds and maybe some "just in case" antibiotics--just "get the prescription filled and take it with you in case you get sick" kind of meds. (DO NOT EVER TAKE ANTIBIOTICS UNLESS YOU HAVE PROOF POSITIVE THAT YOU NEED THEM. ALWAYS ASK THE DOCTOR FOR A CULTURE BEFORE TAKING ANTIBIOTICS. If you do not indeed have a bacterial infection and you do take antibiotics, you will just be aiding and abetting "super bugs" and drug-resistant bacteria for future generations.) Ahem. And that's my RN soap box for the day. Anyway. The nurse who administered the vaccines gave Andrew one giant band-aid for each injection. Thus he proudly displayed his bandaged arms for two days. And like any good wife would, I forced him to pose for a picture. :)

In other news, I went to a jewelry party at my dear friend Abby's house on Thursday. Her mom makes amazing jewelry out of clay--I know, you're thinking, "clay? wouldn't that be heavy and clunky?"--it's not. It's beautiful and delicate and unique. Anyhow, Abby's house got burgled on Tuesday night, bringing back some memories from the ol' college days at the Ridge. Laptop lifting walk-through, anyone?? Word to the wise. When you're not at home, hide your laptop. Shove it under the couch, the bed--anywhere it's not in sight. You and your lifetime's stash of pictures will thank me later. Anyway, Abby made a slew of delicious dips and hors d'oeuvres--including Pioneer Woman's Bacon Wrapped Jalapeno Thingies--her name, not mine. ;)

Photograph from PW. Delectable, finger-lickin' recipe found here.
Any they were good. Really good.

Last night we had ourselves a little mini date--and quite fittingly went to see Tina Fey and Steve Carell in Date Night.

It was seriously hilarious. I had a laughter induced headache when we left. I'm not kidding. I took two Ibuprofen. The plot is kind of so-so, honestly, but they did a lot of improvisation, which you know Steve and Tina are just sooooo good at! It was worth the out-takes in the credits alone! Watch the trailor here. And go see it.

As Porky would say: Abadee, abadee, abadee--That's all folks!

Price tag: a thousand words

You can't see the blue tights, blue crocs and snow boots in this photo, but it's the best we've got. Moo. or Snort. Whatever oxes (oxenisn?) do.

and the pictures to prove it.

Obviously, these photographs go with the previous post. And the painful truth is that they are mostly food.

On our way to the fair! We decided to bob for apples before we left just to get in the mood.


A serious snack.


Every. food. fried. Yes, that says deep fried cheeseburger.


The photographic evidence of a really good bad decision. Verdict: could have skipped the oreos, the Snickers was definitely worth it.


Carve Master Andrew.


There's always a better way with power tools.


Please excuse the fat arm syndrome. It must have been the Snickers.

The finished product now adorning our countertop for at least the next week.