Friday, July 16, 2010

Lunch with my Husband

Andrew, I want to remember the two days you were able to join me for lunch this past week.  Last week, we also went to lunch together twice, which was absolutely wonderful.  But this week, you just joined me for my usual routine. 

I tend to work through the usual lunch hours to accomodate anyone who may be stopping by the Mall Management Office for gift cards or other questions while on their lunch break.  Soon, 2:30 - 3:30 was my hour by habit (which makes the last 2 hours of the day fly by!).  Back in 2008, I found a nice quiet corner in Barnes & Noble near the journals and office knick-knacks. 

My corner back in January 2009
I love the smell of the leather journals and the soft music they play throughout the store.  There is nothing like curling up with my drink of choice (hot tea, chai, frappuccino... depends on the day) and picking up right where I left off the night before on my Kindle.  Rainy days are particularly enjoyable and soothing.

Andrew, for two days this week, you took your lunch hour at the same time and joined me in my little corner of the world.  Instead of reading, we talked and laughed and browsed the journals.  You could not get over how much stress was relieved by just taking an hour and relaxing.  I love the way you just kicked right back to your regular jovial self once we were seated in our little nook, away from work.  The hour flew by way faster than it ever has before.

Right in front of our chairs was a shelf that held several bookends and desk knick-knacks.  And of course you noticed my very favorite alabaster owls.  Within the first five minutes of that first day you sat with me, you had one little green owl turned so he could eyeball me the whole time we sat there.  Soon after, he was dubbed "Petey," and I just knew he was a Ray owl.  Petey mysteriously shuffled back to his usual spot overnight, but you made sure to fix that when you joined me the next day.  You weren't able to join me yesterday, but I made sure you knew that Petey was eyeballing my rice krispie treat.  You decided Petey needed a friend, so the lone gray owl was named "Hootie."  (You just think you're so clever, my love!)

Petey and Hootie sparked a conversation about what life would be like if they lived at home with us.  How I would randomly find Petey next to my toothbrush while Hootie would spend the night in the key bowl waiting for you to leave for work.  What you don't know, my love, is that Petey and Hootie will be starting their crazy Ray adventure... tonight.

Hootie and Petey pose for an impromptu photo shoot on my desk at work
Update:
Before bed last night, I placed Hootie next to the toothbrush holder, and hid Petey under the hand towel close by.  Andrew, you found them this morning as you got ready for work, and I really wish I could have seen your face!  It wasn't until mid-way through my morning tinkle when I glanced over and saw Hootie sitting on the window-sill watching me.  I turned him around so I could have a little privacy, then moved him to sit on the dvr box in the living room.  (He kind of blends in, so I hope he gives you a little bit of a shock later when you are relaxing on the couch.)  Then, as I hopped in the shower, I found Petey next to my face wash.  I should have known you would have placed both little Ray owls somewhere they could catch me with my pants down.  Perverts, the three of you!  After a stern talking-to about privacy and nudity, Petey is waiting for you to get your post-work glass of water.

It's these little quirks and fun things that make me love our life together even more, Andrew.  I hope we continue to be goofy when we're gray-haired and wrinkly.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Boating with the Hubs

Andrew, I want to remember how happy you are when we spend time on the boat.  Back in July 2009, you called me at work and spoke around 100 miles per hour about how you were just browsing Craigslist and found the perfect new-to-us boat.  You spouted off at least 20 specs that left my head reeling because I had no idea what they meant, but I couldn't help but respond to your enthusiasm and agree with everything you said.  We spent a whole year in our new house listening to the boats on the lake, knowing we were less than a mile away from fun on the water.  You and I sat on the deck swing and daydreamed about being boat owners, going so far we'd have actual conversations like this:

A- "Hey Honey, let's go for a ride around the lake."
C- "Sure!  Let me grab my sunglasses."

or,

A- "Hey Babe, let's take the boat out tonight and pick up dinner from Fish 'n Pig."
C- "Yeah!  I wanna see the ducks!"

So the Sunday after you called me at work, ecstatic about founding our perfect first boat, we took a little drive over to check her out.  Sure enough, later that week she was ours.  I want to remember pulling in the driveway after work and seeing the smile on your face as you stood next to your new boat.  How you hustled me into the house to change into appropriate boating clothes.  How you checked and double checked everything like an airplane pilot. 

How you carefully drove down our street to the lake, eyes rarely wavering from the rearview mirror. 

How we jokingly exclaimed, "Man, what a drive!" when we arrived at the boat ramp 2 minutes after leaving our house. 

How you carefully and proudly backed the boat into the water. 

How we loaded ourselves into the boat and pushed away from the dock with big, goofy grins on our face.  How you turned to me and smiled as you went to crank the boat and... nothing.  (What a scare!)

It took us some trial and error, and some help from the original owner, but we got right into the swing of things with our boat.  Not surprisingly, you have mastered everything.  I love that our past daydreams are a reality now. 

I love the look on your face as you drive around the lake, so proud and happy and loving life.

I love the sunsets over the water, and how you patiently slow down so I can take 5000 pictures. 
(This is our very first sunset on our very first night on our new boat)

I love floating in our cove and keeping an eye on your four (or more) fishing poles waiting for a catch. 

I love looking at the stars and listening to music as we drift along lazily.  I love leaving work and getting a text message that reads, "Just sitting at the docks waiting on my beautiful wife."  I love packing up the picnic basket, cooler and blankets for nice night out on the middle of the water with you.  I love your excitement when we get to take our family out on the lake.  I love those hot summer days when you fling yourself off the side of the boat to cool off, and when you surface your eyes sparkle more than the sun reflecting off the water.

I want to remember this always.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Traveling with the Pups


Copper & Penny, I want to remember that from the very first day we adopted you, "riding in the car" was dog-speak for "taking an epic nap."  That these "epic naps" involved you two meshing limbs, heads and tails into a furry mass of puzzling pup-snores.  Penny, regardless of the fact that Copper has about 15 pounds on you, you still made sure to wedge yourself into the most comfortable position, which usually resulted in using a certain fuzzy butt as a pillow.  And Copper, no matter where your head landed, your ears would always snap straight up in their usual sleep satellites.



I want to remember always having to crack the windows as soon as we got off the highway, but the serious sniffing only began once we turned onto Mission Road, heading to your Shmimi & PePaw's house.  Penny, you'd stretched those little legs so your nose could reach the window- sometimes placing your paw on the arm rest to gain some ground.  Copper, your determined sniffing always made me wonder if you could smell when your cousin Wilbur last went by on this very same road.  I want to remember how each series of sniffs always ended with a resounding puff from the side of your mouth, fluffing your lip out like Popeye's. 


More specifically, I want to remember traveling back home on a Sunday in June 2010.  Andrew and I had just spent a great weekend in Nashville, TN with the Willbanks, while you two stayed with Shmimi & PePaw.  Normally we head straight to the house when we pull of the highway, but your Daddy and I decided to stop and grab something to eat since both of us were too pooped to even think about cooking dinner.  While your Daddy went in and ordered our food, I decided to walk you guys in the grass across the street from the restaurant.  This is somewhat normal for people traveling with dogs, but I should have known better. 




Copper, you are the sweetest and most laid-back dog in the world- which is great for us, but makes you kind of a pushover in the territorial dog world.  Because of this, you have never been the kind of dog to lift your leg and pee on every standing thing around you.  Nevertheless, when I walked with you and Penny outside of the restaurant and you smelled what could only have been the tinkle of another pup on a tree, your instincts attempted to take over.  You did your normal pee squat and tried to lift your left leg at the same time, resulting in some strange shaky-legged dance as you tried to not fall over.  Penny had no idea what to make of this, and while trying to figure it out, she stuck her head between your leg.  At that moment, you regained your balance and let out a stream of tinkle... right on Penny's head.  The look on both of your faces was priceless as Penny shook her head and rolled in the grass and you furiously sniffed the ground around the tree to see if your pee hit the target.  At that point, I decided we were better off waiting in the car.



What a lucky Pup-Momma I am.  I will always remember that.