It ain't over until . . .

My husband and I have both been complaining about what an especially elephantine winter we've had this year.  We've pouted over our pants, fussed about fat-rolls, and yet for the most part haven't done anything about it.  What do you do . . . ten pounds here or there isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things, and I can certainly be a good sport in the spirit of fluctuation.  All in fun, right?  But when the moment comes that the buttons are popping off, well . . . that's the moment, isn't it?

Okay, well.  There haven't actually been any buttons popping off.  And, to be clear, neither of us look any different. When I complain to anyone else about the small amount of extra padding, they are inevitably surprised to hear my assessment of my own body.

So.  We've had quite a bit of snow these past few weeks, and several inches of fresh snow in the past several days.  My mountain-climbing, bungee-jumping, hiking/skiing/camping, and generally outdoorsy husband decided that it would be Great Fun to go snowshoeing around our farm.

Out came the skisuit, and out came the special insulating underlayers purchased against the day.  The special layers that, incidentally, have not been used since last year.  I walked into the bedroom to find my husband standing in the middle of the room examining a few inches of exposed belly in confusion.

"That looks a little snug, my love."

Now, had he said that to me, I probably would have cried.  But, being a man, he actually laughed and agreed.  Perplexed, he tugged at the hem and inched it over his navel as far as it would go.

Not very far.

He abandoned the effort as a lost cause and--letting it all hang out there--asked how long it had been since he'd worn this particular piece of his snowshoeing outfit.

I thought about it for a second, and could not remember a single occasion since last year.  He couldn't think of one either.  But, how was it possible that he'd gained this much weight in a year?  All his pants still fit.  All his other shirts still fit.

And yet:  holy Britney Spears' midriff, Batman.

Nothing daunted, he kept pulling out winter clothes for his snowshoeing adventure, and with crinkled brow continued the process of getting dressed.  He seemed to be thinking really hard about something . . . I could just imagine the calculations going on in his head:  "Last night's dinner:  tacos.  Night before:  spaghetti.  When did I eat a bowling ball?  I can't seem to recall."

Resigned to the tight squeeze, and surprisingly cheerful, I saw him raise his arms to shake out another shirt and hold it up, testing it's size without actually putting it on.  More belly.

I watched fascinated as a struggle ensued between my entombed husband and the second layer of insulating liner.  It was then I decided that maybe I should leave the room to give him some privacy.  I certainly wouldn't want anyone to witness me wiggling in (or out!) of clothes in that fashion.

With one last transfixed look at the tangled mess of elbows and bare tummy--I couldn't really tell what was going on; was he coming or going?--I reluctantly started to the door.  Shamelessly, I paused to pet the cat so I could sneak one last peek.  Hey, we're married, remember?

Apparently my dawdling created enough time for him to decide, "Screw it!" and start wiggling back out.   Just when I made it out the door I heard him exclaim in incredulity:

A Women's Small!

I whirled around and flew back in just in time to see him vehemently hurl my blasted shirt onto the bed in bitter, astonished relief.

Brrr, it's cold outside

I have a story about my husband. This video has no relevance to the story whatsoever, other than the fact that it is in fact my husband. He is Wii-boxing with his friend (who makes it into the shot at the very end of the video).

Anyhoo.

Yesterday, after a restless night, I awoke groggy and bleary-eyed. I went through my usual morning routine, but somehow managed to forget what is usually the very first step: moving my phone from my nightstand where the charger is, to my purse that I can't drive to work without as my keys are in it.

I made it to the end of the driveway (we have a long driveway), and skidded on some ice and was thinking about "What if I end up in a ditch?" when I realized I forgot my phone. I paused at the end of the driveway wondering, "Is it worth going back for it?" (of course, I was running late). Then I started replaying the ditch-scenario again, so of course I decided I better go back for it.

I put the car in reverse and (even though the car has a backup camera), I turned around to look behind me as I backed back down the driveway (the camera is great to keep you from running into objects, but isn't really efficient for navigation)(the image is skewed panorama-style, so it's hard to figure out where the hell you are).

I don't know if the story is hit-me-over-the-head-with-a-rock obvious at this point, but whatever you think I'm going to say, please try to let it go and just stay open. Don't skip to the end of the story, it takes the wind out of the author's sails.

Do you ever do that, or is it just me? I love reading so much, sometimes I get frustrated with my eyes and mind because I can't take in the page fast enough. I'll be so immersed into the story, I just can't wait to find out what happens next, and I get annoyed that my eyes are too slow. And I'm a fast reader! But apparently not fast enough because my gaze will involuntarily skip to the end to stop the torture of not knowing "What happens next."

It's wholly unsatisfying. Invariably it ruins the author's big climax, and I always wish I could have stayed patient. So, since I have learned that my eyeballs have no willpower, sometimes I will get a piece of paper (or I'll use my hand in a pinch) to put over the text so I'm forced to read it line-by-line.

After all that, I'm sure you're wondering: what on earth did I see when I turned around and peered through my back window into the snow-washed, morning gloom?

The sky had just started to lighten, but it was so thick with snow-clouds that there was only the barest hint that Night had started to loosen its hold. Our orange flourescent light was still shedding more light then the sun, and it tinted the white walls of our carriage house the way it always does, but also the ground that was just barely dusted with snow. Everything was still and orange as I backed down the driveway, and it took a moment for me to register that a little piece of the orange and gray scene was moving slightly.

It was my husband, looking very little, very pink, and very shirtless, and he was standing at the other end of the driveway, trying to get my attention but shivering so hard his elbows were clenched to his body. He was only wearing shorts and sandals, and looked so small and lost . . . like maybe he wanted to run after the car but knew it wouldn't do any good.

He was holding my phone.

Papa Doodle!

I don't write about my husband much, but this is too cute to keep to myself.

My husband is a practical guy. He does not like spending money friviously. It has caused numerous arguments between us, since I adore spending money (opposites attract).

When it was time to pick out his wedding ring, he claimed he wanted the cheapest, plainest ring in the store. The plainest that was cheap, he said. I'll always remember: shopping for Danny's wedding ring. But we ended up getting a pretty awesome ring, and he really likes it.

This is my favorite part:

Danny doesn't always wear his ring around the house. He works outside a lot, he actually prefers to do the dishes (trust me, appropriate hen and rooster behavior has come up before), and often he will leave his ring on the windowsill over the kitchen sink. Oddly enough, that actually is the best, safest place for it because there isn't any chance of it getting knocked off (due to the layout of the kitchen; pretty much any other surface in the house is in knocking range of the cats. Did I mention Foof's other nickname, Grace? Not the most athletic cat that has ever walked on the planet).

Even though he doesn't generally wear his ring around the house, he prefers to wear it whenever he's out and about. But sometimes he'll leave for work and forget to put his ring on. And the cutest thing ever is he will turn around and come back for it!

One time when we were together, running late (as always), he realized at the end of our road that he had forgotten his ring. I think we were going to a movie? Anyway, he noticed that he wasn't wearing it and groaned aloud. He was so disappointed in himself! Then we had about a ten second "Should we or shouldn't we?" conversation about turning around. Since we were already running late I wasn't going to say anything if he decided to keep going--he always wears his ring, it was just an accident that he forgot it, and I told him it was okay not to wear it today.

We went back and got it.

Trip to Oregon May '09

Trip highlights!

We left Ohio Friday, May 8, at O'Dark Thirty (a.k.a. 6 AM) and arrived in Oregon by 11:15 AM. We had a whole day in front of us, but all we wanted to do was take a nap! No rest for the weary, though.

First things first, House of Teriyaki for lunch! My favorite part was that the gal that runs the restaurant (I wish I knew her name!) said to us, "It's been a long time!" Why yes, yes it has. Any chance of House of Teriyaki becoming a franchise and opening a store in Ohio? Unfortunately no.
Next order of business, REI's BIG SALE! We went in with the intention of only purchasing my sleeping bag, but somehow got suckered into a sleeping bag, self-inflating air mattress pad, and a backpack. How did that happen? We were trying so hard to stay on the cheap.

Off to my parents' house with prizes in tow, quick stop at the hospital to visit Grammy, then dinner with friends at McMenamins. Mmm, Ruby is the best! Ohio is really missing out. Called it a night at 9:45 PM.

Went hiking up Saddleback Mountain on Saturday; beautiful weather, gorgeous scenery, but why does it have to be straight uphill? Didn't make it to the top because we had to head back for quick lunch at Mexicali Express and then met everyone at the hospital.

Visited Grammy for a couple hours, then off to dinner at On the Border. Tasty guacamole for those that like guacamole, but nothing is as good as Mexicali Express. Back to the hospital after dinner to say goodnight to Grammy.

Mother's Day on Sunday! Got to see Mindy and Bill again, everyone was out for dinner. But first we all trooped up to the hospital! Homemade chicken stir fry and tilapia for dinner, followed by shots of tequila. I'll take the Almond flavored tequila, if you please. Back to the hospital.

Big gossip: found out an estranged family member came to visit Grammy! Just missed them though, drat.

Monday was big hiking day for Dan and his dad, and big running around day for me. While he was climbing over the river and through the woods, I made the last round of visits by driving hither tither and yon. Lunch at Mazatlan in Tigard (hither), coffee at Willamette Coffee in Oregon City (tither), dinner at PF Changs in Tualatin (yon). Rounded out by returning the impulse purchase from REI -- apparently Dan and I just can't do "on the cheap." But we tried.

Back to the hospital after hiking and hither-tither-yonning.

Last day in Oregon was just another o'dark thirty flight. When do we get to sleep in again?



I know the quality of this photo is really poor; unfortunately my camera phone is only 2 mega pixels, and the plane was moving so it was hard to keep my hand steady. But I really like the way the light is hitting Danny's face in this shot. We were so gosh-darned tired! Don't ya just want to kiss him?

I'll always remember: when Danny proposed . . .

. . . off the coast of St. Thomas when we were on our cruise in the Caribbean in 2007.

The actual moment on 4/4/07. Sky writing!

August 17, 2008

I'll always remember: Dan playing with kids in their ride-a-wagon . . .

We were at his friends' house for a bar-b-que luau. They had a deck off the back of their house that had stairs down to the back yard lawn. I was up on the deck where their friend/hired DJ was playing music. And I was looking down and Danny was roughing around with a couple of kids in a little red wagon. It gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside to see how cute he was, and how much fun he was having with them!

Foofer

You know how they say your partner is an extension of yourself?