Happy Anniversary, Honey!

Sixteen years ago, after being together for 7 1/2 years, we married, my sweetheart and I, in the very room that I am sitting in right now. It was half past three on March 30th. 3:30 on 3/30. Yeah, I am goofy like that.

It snowed that morning and, having put off the wedding that was originally planned to take place in March of 1990 (I put it off when we found out Jake was to be born because my mother wanted to quickly move it up. Not that I'm hard-headed, or anything...). I joked that it was hell freezing over because the wedding was finally happening.

The night before I was still hemming the bottom of my dress and sewing the lace on while eating a corned beef sandwich from the beer, wine and deli place across the street from where we lived at the time. My best friend kept me company and was the only witness when, faced with the prospect of sewing lace until the next morning, the decision was made to use glue. Wouldn't you know that the glued parts ended up looking nicer than the sewn parts. My shoes were old ballet slippers, horrid pink painted over with cream shoe paint and lace glued on top.

The next morning the guy who was supposed to do my hair didn't show up on time. He ran late enough that I panicked and ended up with my best friend at her hair place. It was in a mall and I had to run out through the mall, veil streaming behind me, to get to my car.

The best man's car was having steering problems and Billiam was to ride with him so that we wouldn't have two cars when it was over. I had visions of the steering failing altogether and them ending up down an embankment. We were all young and poor and car repairs were put off until they absolutely had to happen. If the car started and shifted into gear, it could wait until the next paycheck.

The ceremony itself was short and sweet. Jake was our ring bearer and, not wanting to walk, was carried by my maid of honor. Oh, and he wore a cream linen suit, shirt and tie that I made. No glue was involved. As we started to walk, I think my dad said something to me about it not being to late to change my mind. I'm pretty sure he was kidding.

We have a video in which Billiam, nervous as can be, blinks a mile a minute through the whole ceremony. Watching it together later, he told me that he wasn't nervous about marrying me, but about everyone watching us. Be still, my heart.

The only photos we have of that day are snapshots. The cake was divine.

We were huge Grateful Dead fans and one of my best friends read this at the wedding:

In the attics of my life,
full of cloudy dreams unreal.
Full of tastes no tongue can know,
and lights no eyes can see.
When there was no ear to hear, you sang to me.

I have spent my life seeking
all that's still unsung.
Bent my ear to hear the tune,
and closed my eyes to see.
When there was no strings to play,
you played to me.

In the book of loves own dream,
where all the print is blood.
Where all the pages are my days,
and all the lights grow old.
When I had no wings to fly,
you flew to me,
you flew to me.

In the secret space of dreams,
where I dreaming lay amazed.
When the secrets all are told,
and the petals all unfold.
When there was no dream of mine,
you dreamed of me.

words by Robert Hunter

When we drove away that night, we got about seven miles up the road when warning lights appeared on the dash and my car stopped running. We had to be picked up by my dad and a friend who was a mechanic. We drove to our honeymoon on the Carolina coast in my parents' Bonneville. Oh, we were living the high life. Just before leaving we deposited gift checks and mailed bills. I told you we were broke. Not able to afford the fancy room for the whole trip, we stayed in a modest room , but splurged on the honeymoon suite for one night. We spent lazy days walking on the windy beach, taking Jake to an aquarium and hunting down restaurants that weren't closed for the season.

But that wedding, fraught with mishaps, led to a wonderful marriage. I could not ask for a better husband or father for our children. In all the craziness of my teenage years, I found a person who made me feel safe, was willing to put up with me and glory alleluia, loved me, to boot. My grandmother, an excellent judge of character, later told me she always did like Bill. Yup, Nanny, me too.

what my husband shows up with

when we agree to only get Valentine's Day gifts for the kids:

And did I keep our pact? Yes. Unworthy. I love you, sweetie.

the part where airport security yells at me

Checking in. See the screen on the back of his jacket? That's Lydia, from this pic. She's the poster girl for his band. Ben was not happy about Jake leaving.

That sign up there on the top left? It says you can't take photographs here. Oops. A lady in a uniform quickly pointed out the error of my ways.

The observation deck.
There is a thick pane of glass between them.

leaving

I talked to Jake about counting the number of seats between the emergency exit row and his seat. Then I asked him to text me once he was seated.

I'm on.

Good boy. How many rows from your seat to the emergency exit row?

It's my row.

(eyes looking upward) Thank you.

Laura, he's hurtling in your direction. Make him shower every day, have fun and then send him on back home to us.

real, live yarn in person and other ramblings

I've told y'all that I buy most of my yarn online. The selection is endless, I can hunt down bargains and I don't have to move my behind from my comfy bed/couch/chair to request that it be delivered to my mailbox. What a deal. But man, touching, squeezing and sniffing the stuff just cannot be accomplished through the screen.

I finally made my way to Eleganza Yarns over the weekend. We needed to go into Frederick to exchange one of Billiam's birthday gifts. On the way I casually mentioned that I would like to finally go to Eleganza to pick up some yarn for my sister's baby gift. I'm sly like that. And Billiam's theatrical "Woe is Me"about working a 6 1/2 day week and then spending his only free time in a yarn shop was much shorter than expected. Score one. Love you, honey.

I think the poor man behind the counter thought I was deranged when I walked in and immediately started grinning from ear to ear. Yarn is crack, I tell you. Crack. I ended up with some Rowan Calmer in a lovely pale pink and some Dale Heilo for Jake's replacement pirate hat and one more.

Oh, and I found out that they are planning to have another drop spindle class sometime soon. He said to look for more info in mid-February and that's almost here! Yea! Honey--if you're reading this--I will need to take that class. You know that beautiful, colorful fiber in that box in the kitchen that I ended up keeping when I realized it wouldn't fit into the Yarn Aboard box so I bought some other stuff to put in it, instead? That could be yarn!

Clara's hat will be finished tonight if I play Insomnia Girl in anticipation of Jake's flight tomorrow. If so, photos in the morning. There are a few things I would change around if I were doing it again, but for having made up all of the changes except for the skull part on the fly, I am pretty pleased.

Last, but not least, I won some note cards of The Blankie from Shelly over at Heathen Housewife. Woohoo! If you don't know what The Blankie is, head on over there and scroll down to February 2. It's knit from remnants of sock yarn. Gorgeous!

And, because I cannot possibly end this without a picture...

mostly about Hope,

but please don't mention that to her because I'm not supposed to talk about her here. She's thirteen.

Hope's hat is finally finished. I love it and, more importantly, she loves it. How great is it when you give someone something you've knit for them and they can't stop grinning, they love it so much? The pattern is Braid and Bobble Hat by Fiber Trends (thank you, Lindy!) and the yarn (merino/alpaca) was custom dyed by ChewySpaghetti (click to see her etsy shop and drool). Just gorgeous and super soft. Thank you, Khris!

Oh, and to answer your question from the other day, Nicki, yes, she needs glasses. She's Not Happy about it and could not find any frames that she didn't despise with every fiber of her being liked. We need to find 100% invisible frames. Not rimless. Invisible. She only needs them for distance and right now is sitting at or near the front in all of her classes, so there is no pressure to rush it. I think she needs some more time to digest the idea.

Here is a pic of Billiam's hat. See? Don't you love that decrease, too? Thank you, Fig and Plum.

And the green bit at the bottom. Yeah, I know how to do it without getting the little bumps of color. I forgot to do it.

Today I have the Herculean task of convincing Ben to shed his pajamas in favor of actual clothing. The kind people wear when they venture out of the house into the great big world. The boy would live in his pj's if I let him. Most days I do.

look at me, all up early-like on a Sunday

Billiam and 6/7's of the kids left a little while ago. He has some things to take care of at work and I am going out for brunch a little later with my girlfriends of forever. One of us is jumping ship and heading south in January. As much as I know it's the good and right decision for her family (lower cost of living means that she will get to be home with her three cutie boys), I am selfishly going to miss her. We don't get to see each other nearly enough with her living 20 minutes away. And those three cutie boys? Really nice boys that my kids adore. And the littlest is a chunky little piece of deliciousness. I want to keep them all here! Whine, whine, whine.

But brunch will be lovely. A bit fancy-schmancy and I get to go all by myself. That's right. Billiam even has Fireball. Snacks were packed but I am going to be busting at the seams to nurse her by the time we're all back home together. Fingers crossed that Benny, deep in his age of mommymommymommy, will forget to miss me.

I will drop Jake off at a nearby mall so that he can hang out with his Georgia Peach (scroll down to just below Heat Miser), who has, after many delays, finally moved up here. Jake's just a little bit happy about that.

"we've found a good one. Jake, bring me the rifle."

~Billiam, when we finally decided which tree to bring home.

Tree Hunter Man. I told you I would post it.

(Now you can all watch as I get my ass kicked for posting this)

This tree was actually our second choice. The best, most perfect tree that we found first became The Poop Tree after Billiam and Hope skidded through some...well, poop that was next to it. Don't tell Hope I told you that. She would shriek at me in that voice that thirteen year old girls use when you've ruined their life. Again.

I don't even think she actually got any on her shoes. But the thought of it sent her whole world askew and when she thought we might actually still be considering getting The Poop Tree she ran up the hill, horrified. Mind you, there was no poop on the tree. It was next to the tree. That was enough to ruin the whole tree. Just ask Hope.

There was much discussion about how likely The Poop Tree was to fall into the poop once it was felled. Favorable angles were considered. In the end, this family's fear of the poop won out and we set off to find the second best tree.

Hope, lugging the sack of potatoes that is Lydia

The sack of potatoes smiles

My Abie

Ben, in the lemon hat that wouldn't die. Cheap cotton, circa 1990 something

Clara, ever happy with her camera-toting mama

Emma

Bluey, among the blue spruces

Ben had the most fun, hands-down.

A barbed wire fence! QUICK! Strike a punky pose.

Hope, hiding from us as we considered getting The Poop Tree

Cutting down Second Choice Tree

Billiam's view of his audience as he cuts down Second Choice Tree

For some reason this year the blue spruce prices came down while the other tree prices went up so that in the end there was just a few dollars difference. So instead of waving at the blue spruces as we drive on to the cheaper ones, our sunroom is now filled with blue sprucely goodness. The ornaments still haven't gone up, but maybe tonight.

twenty-three years ago, today...

...my friend became my boyfriend. I had just turned seventeen and he was about to turn sixteen. I knew he was a good guy right from the start. Oh, and I warned him upfront that I was planning to have six kids. I'm not sure he believed me, but he didn't run, screaming, the other way. I'm glad.

For you, sweetie-

STILL THE ONE (Orleans)

We've been together since way back when
Sometimes I never want to see you again
But I want you to know, after all these years
You're still the one I want whisperin' in my ear

You're still the one I want to talk to in bed
Still the one that turns my head
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one that makes me laugh
Still the one that's my better half
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one that makes me strong
Still the one I want to take along
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Changing, our love is going gold
Even though we grow old, it grows new

You're still the one that I love to touch
Still the one and I can't get enough
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one
who can scratch my itch
Still the one and I wouldn't switch
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You are still the one
that makes me shout
Still the one that I dream about
We're still having fun, and you're still the one...

Dig the horizontal stripes on that sweater and the topsiders! Thank you, Lisa, for giving me this photo!

I turned 40, right on schedule.

Yesterday was my birthday. Sometimes 40 seems momentous and other times like just another day. Mostly the latter and I think I'm happy with that.

Saturday I was a room supervisor for the SAT's. I had to get up at 5:30 (really, should anyone be awake at that hour?) and arrive at the college at 7:00. I was happy to be assigned the 7th and 8th graders room. They're still so sweet and happy to follow directions at that age. One little boy ended up skipping ahead on his answer sheet (he recorded section six in section five), but we caught it at the beginning of the next section and once I told him it would be fine he didn't stress over it.

My biggest stress was thinking about how Lydia would be doing without me. This was just the second time I've left her for longer than it takes to run up to the store for a few things. She is still nursing more than eating food. So I worry about whether she is crying for me and I'm uncomfortable from not nursing for that long. The last test I did she was fine (in October), and it seems she was this time, too. Ingrate.

I got home at about 1:20 or so and noticed a bunch of cars next door. Wow. The guy who never has anyone over must be having a party. Do you see where this is heading? Because I didn't. I was tired, what little makeup I had put on that morning at dark o'clock had disappeared and my only wish was to nurse the baby and take a nap with her.

As I opened the front door Billiam was there and my very first thought was that I really liked the new shirt he had on, but when did he get it? A second later all these people yelled, "SURPRISE!" So I turned around and walked back out the door into the yard. I might have said a four letter word.

Yes, my darling husband had been planning and plotting. I cannot believe I did not have even an ounce of suspicion.

The guest list included my three best friends (from junior high) and their families, our neighbors from the house I lived in the longest when I was growing up (we moved a lot), including their son who I always referred to as my little brother (he's like 6 foot fifteen now) and his wife and daughter, and family members. Notably absent, my brother, but he didn't come to my wedding, either. Not. Bitter. At. All. I should add that the there is no malice in his absences. Just circumstances. The kids were all excited beyond words to have surprised me, most of them having just found out about the party that morning, themselves. A wise decision on Billiam's part, I am sure.

We had barbecue from my favorite place and extremely tasty chocolate mousse cakes at the end. Mmm I loves me some chocolate mousse cake. I will let you know over the next few years if my candle wishes come true.

There was live entertainment provided by my darling Jake's band. I just gotta love teenage boys who play punk music performing for my fortieth birthday party. Tough guys, one and all. They played some of their own music and, as per my wish, they played Elvis Costello's "Welcome to the Working Week," and even threw in one of my best most faves, "Alison." Had I known I was having a party, I would have requested some Indigo Girls, but what can you do?

I wish I had some photos to share, but since I am the photographer in the family, I have none. I know there were some taken by others and, if you are someone who took them and I look hideous in them, please consider it my birthday wish that you not share them. I would not pass around unflattering photos of you and hope you'll return the favor. You know who you are.

And to my sweetheart...Honey, thank you. I still can't believe you did it. You rock.

Jake's band, fresh from their performance at a Red Cross benefit show, Sunday night

Baby Me with my brother, circa 1967 and 1968

deal

Lydia in her handknit sweater that Billiam and Clara picked up from a street vendor in NYC. You can't really see it in the photos, but it has fair isle work on the hood and the lower half of the body. Fifteen bucks. Can't beat that with a stick.

my favorite tourists

At Rockefeller Center. I think Clara needs to adjust the date on her camera.

The trip was a roaring success. Much fun to be had by all. They got into the city and, after shuffling things around on the bus they decided to leave the backpack and get on their way. They had about two hours to kill before the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall so they walked around and shared a giant corned beef sandwich for lunch.

I got a call around 12:30--when it was time to go into the show. When they decided to leave the backpack on the bus, guess what was still in it?

"We left the tickets on the bus."

Oh. No. Way. The bus was in parts unknown and the trip organizer had already gone to an earlier show and couldn't be reached. Billiam bit the bullet and bought two more tickets, a much less costly investment than future therapy ("Remember that time we went to NY to see a show and left the tickets on the bus? Yeah, well it ruined my life..."). They ended up with better seats than the rest of their group and loved the show.

More shopping after the show (they found an adorable hand knit sweater for Lydia for a steal!), then pizza for dinner (during which my NY born, pizza snob husband decided once and for all that we truly do finally have pizza down here as good as in the city). They were going to go up to the top of the Empire State Building but the line for tickets was 90 minutes long and they decided they would rather just take a picture from the outside and walk around more.

Traffic was terrible getting out and they didn't end up getting home until close to 1 am, instead of the planned 11 pm. The car door I heard just after midnight must have been the neighbor.

Clara was six shades of pale from exhaustion and happy as a clam.

moving on

Ok--the mittens were supposed to be one of the quickie Christmas knits. I've just frogged the first mitten in the second pattern. It was the Target Wave mittens from the Fall 2006 Interweave Knits. When I saw the pattern I loved it and hated it. Maybe hate is too strong a word. I love that it's a novel approach to an old standby. This definitely isn't your father's Oldsmobile. But I just couldn't decide whether I liked it. I'm not crazy about the stripes. Yeah, I know. They are a huge part of the pattern, but thought I might like them better in variegated. You know, like that would play down the part I didn't like while maintaining the newness of the pattern.

I plowed ahead, using the ever so lovely pink/purple variegated. Mitten completed. I hate it. Whatever charm the pattern had in its original form was lost in the yarn change. Crap.

Well, I can't go to sleep now, anyway, because Billiam and Clara aren't home, yet. They went with her Theater Arts class today up to NYC to see a show and eat yummy things. There was Much Drama. More on that another time.

The rest of us (minus the sleeping Jake) spent a good part of the day at the younger kids' fall festival. Two of the four (Hope and Abie) won at the cake walk. Two homemade cheesecakes were chosen and all four were much pleased. I say that as if I'm not pleased, too. Mmmm. Cheesecake. They were very sweet to decide to save them until tomorrow when everyone will be home.

Oh, I also won four hours of a carnival concession for a song. Whee! Cotton candy machine! The kids don't know about that just yet because they were supposed to call by 4:30 if we were the high bidders but didn't end up calling until close to seven. Too bad we didn't win the four hours of moon bounce to go with it. I wonder how much cotton candy you can make in four hours....

I think I just heard a car door. They must be home!

trick-or-treat

But first, dinner at Noodles and Co.

"Mommy, are we at Halloween, yet?" ~Ben, as we got ready to park the car to trick-or-treat.

Hope is a movie theater floor. Candy wrappers, spilled sodas, tickets, and whatnots attached to her black outfit. Clara is a witch, Emma is Jasmine, Abie is Dash Incredible, Ben is Peter, King of Narnia (he sounded adorable telling people this), and Lydia is a zebra.

We don't live in a neighborhood, so we trick-or-treat in the neighborhood next to Billiam's office. Most houses are decorated with at least a little something and some houses are completely decked out. One resident had already passed candy out to over 600 kids by the time we got to his house. That's a lot of peanut butter cups.

One house has tons of decorations...each window has shadow shades up, music, a graveyard in front with tombstones and various limbs sticking out of the ground, corpse with stomach open to reveal spaghetti-like innards being eaten by a crow, big ol' wrap around porch with dummies and owner with candy, fog, etc. Anyway, next to their car, which has life-size monsters inside and hanging out the windows, was a big stuffed ghoul of some sort. Then, as people pass by, it suddenly moves and reaches for them. It's an actual person in amongst all the stuffed ones. They got me with that one, again, this year.


As an added bonus, there are shops and restaurants at the edge of the neighborhood where Jake was meeting up with a few of his friends.

By the time we got home, all of the kids were asleep and had to be woken up to come in the house. Well, except Ben and Lydia. I can still carry them.

And when Emma wakes up in the morning, she will be nine.

Lydia flies

My husband is blasting Dani California in the living room. He's dancing around like a fool, lip synching. Jake is playing along on his bass. Abie is doing the robot. The girls (minus Clara--she was up until 5 am at a sleepover and is passed out in the other room) and Ben are whirling dervishes.

My family. Woudn't trade 'em for the world.

where the big boys were

One of Jake's birthday gifts was two tickets to the Virgin Festival. So Saturday morning Billiam and Jake headed out to Pimlico. They hit a lot of traffic going and ended up having to park a mile away and walk. Traffic leaving was even worse and they didn't get home until after one in the morning.

Highlights were The Who and Red Hot Chili Peppers who, Bill says, possess more energy than is human. Please note the knitted fingerless gloves on Anthony Kiedis. Did you know his godfather was Sonny Bono? And he's older than me. Just sayin.'

As evidenced by their photos, they were way closer to the stage than I would have been comfortable with (at the very front, off to the side). Billiam was afraid they would have to leave the front when it started getting squashy, but it worked out ok. It seems the biggest danger was watching for crown surfers so as not to get kicked in the head. At some point someone a little bit behind them started grabbing shoes off the crowd surfers and hurling them into the crowd. Nice. So if your kid (or spouse) came home shoeless, you know why. Bill said one surfer couldn't have been much older than Abie (who is 6). What on earth were that child's parents thinking?!

The final verdict from Jake and Bill? Best. Concert. Ever. And my boys have seen a few concerts in their day. Especially the bigger older one.