We are at the b&b bar. Champagne, bourbon and ginger beer. It's hot. The deck awaits as I check email quickly...
The swimming, the camp fire, the marshmellows and nutella...
Do we have to go?
Soon. Soon.
For now, I need more.
Camden is its own heaven.
My husband awaits.
More later.
26 July 2007
20 July 2007
The First of Many
We leave early tomorrow morning to celebrate our 1-year wedding anniversary and vacation to Maine.
There has been lots to say in the past few days: what kind of writer I feel that I am, when we'll think to start a family, what the hell I'm doing in my job, and what location we'll end up when we purchase a house.
But for now, there's red wine, more packing and tidying before we depart, and a whole lot of speculation on the vacation we are about to have.
And there's anticipating what year two of marriage will bring.
I'm convinced that I can do a whole lot better at being a wife, friend, and person.
This is sort of like our New Year's Day when we can look to the future, toast on the past and of what will come of fresh days without any mistakes.
For now, have a great week. I'm inspired to post pics of our Maine trip and maybe some of Italy as a reminder of where we were a year ago.
There has been lots to say in the past few days: what kind of writer I feel that I am, when we'll think to start a family, what the hell I'm doing in my job, and what location we'll end up when we purchase a house.
But for now, there's red wine, more packing and tidying before we depart, and a whole lot of speculation on the vacation we are about to have.
And there's anticipating what year two of marriage will bring.
I'm convinced that I can do a whole lot better at being a wife, friend, and person.
This is sort of like our New Year's Day when we can look to the future, toast on the past and of what will come of fresh days without any mistakes.
For now, have a great week. I'm inspired to post pics of our Maine trip and maybe some of Italy as a reminder of where we were a year ago.
17 July 2007
I've been a bit MIA, sorry. But I've been keeping up on my reading of all your blogs.
We're getting ready for Maine. Its promise is to be full of nature, swimming, sun, kayaking, eating seafood, shopping, and bumming around.
Some of my earliest memories of dating bub are when we were camping.
Our first trip was to a site out in western MA, near school, and was completely spontaneous. Well, not that spontaneous. I think bub warmed me up to the idea of camping during one of our many phone calls during the week. Then on a trip to visit me, a tent was stowed in the back of the Wagoneer, just in case.
There was lots of studying to do and as an English major that translates into lots of reading, note-taking, highlighting, more reading, and ultimately writing.
So I dragged my hefty book of Shakespeare's works with me to the wildnerness. After the tent was set up, I sprawled on my belly and used what was left of the daylight to pour over words introduced to me in high school and regurgitated again with different, more obtuse explanations.
I'm pretty sure there was a lot of sighing and some complaining. Shakespeare is fine, but not really a camping activity.
We enjoyed a warm fire, toasted marshmellows, and perhaps some beer stew. The beer stew is a trademark camping meal bub makes so well...
But before Maine is a trip to get this done tonight. Ugh. The things we do.
We're getting ready for Maine. Its promise is to be full of nature, swimming, sun, kayaking, eating seafood, shopping, and bumming around.
Some of my earliest memories of dating bub are when we were camping.
Our first trip was to a site out in western MA, near school, and was completely spontaneous. Well, not that spontaneous. I think bub warmed me up to the idea of camping during one of our many phone calls during the week. Then on a trip to visit me, a tent was stowed in the back of the Wagoneer, just in case.
There was lots of studying to do and as an English major that translates into lots of reading, note-taking, highlighting, more reading, and ultimately writing.
So I dragged my hefty book of Shakespeare's works with me to the wildnerness. After the tent was set up, I sprawled on my belly and used what was left of the daylight to pour over words introduced to me in high school and regurgitated again with different, more obtuse explanations.
I'm pretty sure there was a lot of sighing and some complaining. Shakespeare is fine, but not really a camping activity.
We enjoyed a warm fire, toasted marshmellows, and perhaps some beer stew. The beer stew is a trademark camping meal bub makes so well...
But before Maine is a trip to get this done tonight. Ugh. The things we do.
11 July 2007
To the new, shiny, dark, green BMW car neighbor. Welcome! I started to wonder if anyone drove you, but judging from my departure this morning, since you were gone, I figured your owner took you on a walk to work. Although, after thoroughly checking out your front and back (seats!) I see that you're either really new, or hardly used, or you have an insane owner who cleans you thoroughly daily. I opt for choice A. Welcome to our dirty part of the parking area where we park close to trash cans college students cannot fill properly thereby leaving trash and such all around your bumper!
Is your driver a male or female? I see that the seat is close to the wheel so I go for choice B. However, if I'm wrong and it's a male, well, I wonder if he's any cute? (Just kidding! I have a husband--why would I care?)
Please make sure you are parked close to the wall of the garage on your left. Do not show off that you can back into your spot. We all can when no one is parked directly behind us! If you do not park close to the wall I must compensate by parking closer to my other car neighbor's driver, a moron, who is afraid of the pole that is not ever close to her precious car, but yet writes emails to my husband telling him we park too close to her. Get a life, moron.
Finally, shiny, dark, green beamer. If you ever need a test ride--a trip out--anything at all--whatever you do, don't open your doors too close to mine and injure pretty, shiny, light blue, lovely Acura or I will kill you.
Love, me
Is your driver a male or female? I see that the seat is close to the wheel so I go for choice B. However, if I'm wrong and it's a male, well, I wonder if he's any cute? (Just kidding! I have a husband--why would I care?)
Please make sure you are parked close to the wall of the garage on your left. Do not show off that you can back into your spot. We all can when no one is parked directly behind us! If you do not park close to the wall I must compensate by parking closer to my other car neighbor's driver, a moron, who is afraid of the pole that is not ever close to her precious car, but yet writes emails to my husband telling him we park too close to her. Get a life, moron.
Finally, shiny, dark, green beamer. If you ever need a test ride--a trip out--anything at all--whatever you do, don't open your doors too close to mine and injure pretty, shiny, light blue, lovely Acura or I will kill you.
Love, me
06 July 2007
Don't Rush My Summer.
Don't rush my summer.
Don't take away sunblock scents while the windows are down.
Where you find sundresses and cargo capris,
Flipflops, sandy toes, chipping polish.
Outdoor cafes without a care.
Warm sun, no coat, no regrets.
Don't rush my summer.
Leaving work to see the sky's still waiting for you in blue,
And it can feel like a Friday on a Tuesday night.
Don't rush my summer with your new ads; I'm not excited.
Show me more bathing suit bikini tops, giggling smiles,
Swimming until you can't touch any more.
Barefoot dreams.
Don't take away sunblock scents while the windows are down.
Where you find sundresses and cargo capris,
Flipflops, sandy toes, chipping polish.
Outdoor cafes without a care.
Warm sun, no coat, no regrets.
Don't rush my summer.
Leaving work to see the sky's still waiting for you in blue,
And it can feel like a Friday on a Tuesday night.
Don't rush my summer with your new ads; I'm not excited.
Show me more bathing suit bikini tops, giggling smiles,
Swimming until you can't touch any more.
Barefoot dreams.
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