My Grievous Angel

For years I rebelled against the institution of marriage. I maintained that I could exist in a committed adult relationship without needing a piece of paper to make it meaningful. Then along comes this guy. He was goofy and nerdy and attractive. One-by-one he broke down my barriers. Time-after-time he stayed when I expected him to go. He showed up in a big way when it counted. He made me trust him. He made me love him.

Four years ago today Tim and I did what I said I would never do: we got married.

The photographer made damn sure we couldn't have these pictures without paying for the digital images. Dang it. These are scanned in so they are grainy.

When I think of that day - that whole weekend - the details just swirl: the Cedar House Inn, sleeping with the windows thrown open, the perfect weather that night, that dress - Oh my God, that dress, walking to the ceremony with my mom and bridesmaids, writing our ceremony with Matt after a run the morning of the wedding, holding Tim's hand during the toasts, the bottles of port, the photo booth that Pete built, walking in to Brand New Colony, meeting all of our friends at Scarlett O'Hara's after the rehersal, looking around and knowing that our intimate event was comprised only of people we loved and they loved us.


 


The Song: isn't that a popular topic? We knew from the start what our song was. Every time I mention it, nobody seems to know what song I'm talking about. I can't find it on playlist or youtube either. Too bad - it is so beautiful and it's message so distilled. Tim and I shacked up for a long time before we tied the knot. We were married long before we were married - marriage is more about the promises you make to each other in the privacy of your own room. These are the promises that no divorce can reverse. This marriage is forever.

The Secret Marriage

Sting

No earthly church has ever blessed our union

No state has ever granted us permission

No family bond has ever made us two

No company has ever earned commission

No debt was paid no dowry to be gained

No treaty over border land or power

No semblance of the world outside remained

To stain the beauty of this nuptial hour

The secret marriage vow is never spoken

The secret marriage never can be broken

No flowers on the alter

No white veil in your hair

No maiden dress to alter

No bible oath to swear

The secret marriage vow is never spoken

The secret marriage never can be broken

Tim got us a sunny yellow dutch oven for our anniversary. I am so excited just dreaming up all the meals we will cook for our family and friends from this heavy pot. I love it.




I also love this constant reminder. It's as beautiful as the day it landed on my finger.




From a poem by John Cavanaugh, in his book `Shouting Down Silent Canyons':


I want to walk with you above the pines,
Scale mountains, leap rivers, speak to the sun and moon,
And make wagers with the stars.
I want to roll laughing down lonely canyons,
To tease the desert that threatens to destroy, ski deserted trails,
Ride dirt bikes to the very edge of the lingering horizon,
I want to sail across strange seas and explore buried cities,
To watch the mating of the whales in a Mexican lagoon,
And hear the music of coyotes resound across a moonless sky.
I want to startle deer in forests and mountain lions in their lairs,
To surprise bold racoons and watch the porcupines waddle away
Like embarrassed little boys.
But most of all I want to love without barriers,
With eyes laughing and hearts singing
And caution abandoned to the clouds by a friendly west wind.
I want to feel your presence as my very own, to speak to you as though
I am talking to myself, to hold you without fear or distance
Or private thoughts.
So I can walk with you above the pines, scale mountains, leap rivers
Speak to the sun and moon
And make wagers with the stars.

I'd make wagers with the stars for you any day. Happy 4 years, love.

Holiday Hangover

It's been a fabulous whirlwind. I knew it would be. Few words, lots of pictures.


The tree-trimming happened in stages. Tim had been in Chicago since we returned from Tahoe. The night he got home was spent with him in the bathroom throwing up. Worst stomach flu ever. The next evening we went to get the tree - there was, after all, a schedule to keep. We went to Cole Hardware like we always do but this year for the first time that tree was not carried up the hill by a human. Rather, we let our car do all the work so that Tim's GI could recover.

Tree trimming was interrupted by Ada's favorite game: "I'm hiding right behind you!"

Off to the park for a little tree-trimming break. 

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The playground on a cloudy San Francisco day:

These two squirrels looted every single stroller in the park, including ours. They scored a few stale cheerios and graham cracker bits from our basket. 

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What started off as very serious, reverent work quickly spiraled into a mess of silliness. 

Puppet Claus clearly loves his outfit. 

Instead of "Stuff on my Cat" we played "Stuff on the Baby."

Quick! Guess what game we're playing!?

Even after all that, our tree is lovely. 

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A little something new for the bedroom. 

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Grandma Judy arrived. Puppet took the opportunity to engage in his favorite sport: napping on luggage. He is a gold-medalist. 

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Grammy Rob and Grandpa Rick visited on Christmas eve while I was at work.
Quick!! What game is this now?

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I have never been to a work party. I usually feel really, really awkward and then I have a glass too many to compensate and then I make a fool of myself. Better to just avoid. I told Tim that I RSVP'd "no" and he told me that was a bad idea politically. So we went. The goody bags for the kids were nice and I managed to keep myself under control. I still don't like these things though. 

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A few of the toys from Christmas:









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The holidays brought some new skills for Ada. Skills like climbing (Oh my God).


And the promise of new skills like using the potty.




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Christmas day was spent with friends. One way or another we were all in town by our work. The Lucas's just moved here a few days ago. Their daughter Sophia is a few weeks older than Ada and they share a pure, unwavering love of Elmo.

At one point Courtnay, who was on call all day, was on the computer reading out a study. Then the countdown to 6:00 began and we had a glass of champagne waiting for her. 

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The new year is coming. And with it will come some very deliberate life changes. More to come. Always, always more to come....

Survival Mode and Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers

It hardly seems sensible to tell the story now - the drive back from Tahoe was so long ago (OK, 10 days).

Where did I leave off? Oh, yeah. We woke up on Saturday morning to snow. Lots of snow. Like, 5 inches of snow. To be one hundred percent honest, this wasn't a huge surprise. A guy in a restaurant the day before had told us that there was a call for snow over the night. I have no explanation for it, but in my mind it was immediately brushed off as non-credible forecasting and on about our day we went. But there it was all accumulated on the road and the hot tub cover. That guy was right.

Tim and I spent a good few hours weighing the pros and cons of what to do about this pickle we found ourselves in. We could chance it that things would look better tomorrow and I could call in sick to work (it would have made only the second sick day in my whole life). Or, we could just throw on a scarf, mittens, and tire chains and hope for the best.

Tim left the house around 1:00-ish. He high-stepped through the snow for about 0.5 miles to get to the main road (read: a cleared road). From there he caught a bus into town and bought some tire chains. I got a call,

"Hey."
"Hey."
"So, I missed the bus."
"What do you mean you missed the bus?"
"I missed the bus back. I'm in a coffee shop across the street having coffee and a bagel. It's too cold to wait outside and the cars passing by keep splashing me."
"OK. So when is the next bus?"
"About and hour."
"AN HOUR? [sigh] OK."

Cold, wet, and frustrated my husband made it back. This is the point in the trip where you and your spouse start getting all snippy when you talk just because you're worried and uncomfortable. Maybe it's just us. Being a good 14 years into our relationship we know better than to take it seriously.
Poor guy had to go out and put the tire chains on by himself. I came out to help but Ada kept trying to get near the idling car, which, on a slick ice and snow covered drive, was enough to make Tim and I both pretty nervous.




We pulled out at 3:30, a solid 4 hours after we had planned to leave. I texted our parents and a couple of friends with a picture of the start of the drive. "Here goes nothin'!"





Tim did not grow up in snow. In fact, we spent a Christmas in Ohio with my family. He was so excited to shovel the driveway. I had to show him how to make a snowball and then explain how to pack it so that it hurts when it lands or to pack it soft so that it explodes on impact, getting snow all down the neck of the target. Driving was a whole other story. We went slow. Most everyone went slow. Shout out to social media here: we got an alternate (safer) route from Lisa and lots of handy tips. Thanks Lisa!

My man has the loveliest eyes. Ada is lucky enough to have gotten that rim of brown around the pupil just like her Daddy. I like it better when his face doesn't look so worried though. He was under a lot of pressure....you know, to not kill his family. 

After a while we settled in and just accepted that there was no going back so we best enjoy it for what it was worth. Mother nature really knows what she's doing. Check this snowy alpine scene out. It was truly breathtaking - when we weren't holding our breath for the driving part.





We eventually reached Truckee and all the traffic that goes with it. And that's when it got really bad. The snow started coming down harder and faster, the sun had set and we were on the freeway. Stop. Go. Stop. Creep along. Stop. Stop. Creep.....It went on like this for almost 5 hours.

The street lights through the back window looked like an indigo blue glow - the glass was covered with at least an inch of snow. Probably more. The headlights had a mound of snow in front of them too, dimming our lights. Our windshield wipers developed giant ice cubes on them so that when the wipers would sweep across the windshield all that was left behind was a harsh streak of water between the snow. We have one single working window in the American Classic and that's on the drivers side. Tim would turn up the heat, open the window and reach his left hand out and around to snap the wiper trying to get the ice off. It worked pretty well until one time it didn't. The pin holding the wiper on snapped and the wiper blade would only rotate like a sad, directionless helicopter propeller. At this point we laughed and then laughed louder and harder. Really, it couldn't have possibly gotten more ridiculous. For the next hour or so we used a squee-gee to wipe off the windshield: Tim through his open window and me leaning out of the open car door (ghetto, but safe enough. I mean, the car wasn't moving more than about 5 mph.)

We got home at 1:30 am. Tired, spent, and happy to be home we went to bed. I had to be up at 6:00 to go to work the next day. The only thing that makes us feel better about the drive is that we heard on the news that it was even worse the next day. Lots of spin-outs and pile-ups. Good thing we didn't wait but I do feel like we've been in survival mode ever since. There's a great book called "Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers" by Robert Sapolsky all about the sustained stress response and the damage it does. Zebras, even though they could be chased down and killed at a moments notice, don't have this problem. Know why? Because in between the chases they absolutely forget about it and peacefully graze. One of my goals for 2011 is to be more like a zebra.


Tim left for Chicago on Monday and was gone for a week. Last week I had a day off and I spent it in front of the fire with some Christmas carols playing. I was working on my values. It's a very Franklin Covey thing to do - I absolutely thrive on this kind of crap. And, yes, it is planner page time! I am collecting my pictures and making my 2011 pages. In this case, however, the values were related to a work assignment. I've also been asked to work on my goals for the coming year. Heh heh, waaaay ahead of you guys! What gets me about this is that a couple of years ago I did approach a senior doctor in the practice and asked that person to discuss my career goals with me. The response I got was, "yeah, I don't do that sort of thing."





Paka has finally decided that the small, screeching human does have something to offer.





Something else that is happening now is that as soon as she sees the camera she runs as fast as her little chunkies will carry her and tries to grab the camera. So we have lots of crappy shots like this one:





Toddler messes. A friend whose baby is just a bit younger than Ada tells me they don't have this problem. It's hard for me to wrap my head around the possibility of there not being random pile of who-knows-what all over the floor and in random boxes or baskets.





Finally, her new favorite game is to hide behind you, pressed against you. When she is ready for you to turn around and surprise her she will give a tug on your shirt - whichever side you should turn to. It's so stinking cute I can hardly stand it.