Friday, July 12, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Week 1: 14 Weeks of Sh!t
So, my darling husband thought of this a few years ago when we were bored and melancholy with the long Pittsburgh winters, and were burned out on streaming Netflix. He made "13 Weeks of Shit" to keep us entertained. He had a bowl full of pieces of paper, on which were written a weekend activity, and a brunch/dinner option. Each week I got to blindly pick one from the bowl, and we would venture out that weekend following the card's instructions.
It was great fun, and we were pleased and entertained all winter. The man is amazing. They were a great 13 weeks.
Then our life, as it does, got quite busy again with plays and musicals and travel and work and such madness, and the 13 Weeks of Shit became only a fond memory.
(I should probably mention here that my darling husband is an arts & theater teacher. It will make more sense soon.)
This past Christmas (2012), we had our dear friends visiting from California (who didn't know about 13 Weeks of Shit), and my last gift from Mr. Husband was a smallish heavy box. I opened it, and pulled out the large, handmade, creation that was inside. It was a giant pile of steaming poop. Beautifully crafted, by the way, by my darling husband. Our friends were obviously quite confused. The top part of the poop lifted away and inside were 14 (he had upped the ante from the last series) pieces of paper, each with it's own new activity and dining experience, and written with the wry inside humor that makes us "US".
Seriously. The best husband in the world is all mine.
So, after getting through musical season and our June travel, here we are, embarking on 14 Weeks of Shit. They won't run concurrently, but they will be absolutely amazing.
And here, in all of its glory, is Week 1. We'll be going to The Mattress Factory and James Street on Sunday (where, incidentally, we had our first date just 10 short years ago next month).
It was great fun, and we were pleased and entertained all winter. The man is amazing. They were a great 13 weeks.
Then our life, as it does, got quite busy again with plays and musicals and travel and work and such madness, and the 13 Weeks of Shit became only a fond memory.
(I should probably mention here that my darling husband is an arts & theater teacher. It will make more sense soon.)
This past Christmas (2012), we had our dear friends visiting from California (who didn't know about 13 Weeks of Shit), and my last gift from Mr. Husband was a smallish heavy box. I opened it, and pulled out the large, handmade, creation that was inside. It was a giant pile of steaming poop. Beautifully crafted, by the way, by my darling husband. Our friends were obviously quite confused. The top part of the poop lifted away and inside were 14 (he had upped the ante from the last series) pieces of paper, each with it's own new activity and dining experience, and written with the wry inside humor that makes us "US".
Seriously. The best husband in the world is all mine.
So, after getting through musical season and our June travel, here we are, embarking on 14 Weeks of Shit. They won't run concurrently, but they will be absolutely amazing.
And here, in all of its glory, is Week 1. We'll be going to The Mattress Factory and James Street on Sunday (where, incidentally, we had our first date just 10 short years ago next month).
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
This would totally happen to me
Man and dog covered in paint in a traffic accident.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2349977/Driver-dog-covered-multi-coloured-PAINT-spins-road-multiple-gallons-seat.html
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2349977/Driver-dog-covered-multi-coloured-PAINT-spins-road-multiple-gallons-seat.html
What the hell, nature?
Asian Tiger Mosquitos? Nature, you're out of control.
http://www.weather.com/home-garden/mosquito/asian-tiger-mosquitoes-poised-invade-20130626
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
To my Liebchen, for June 25th
Liebchen... So, yeah. 10 years together this month, 9 years in the house a few months back, and 8 years of marriage.
I couldn’t love you more than I did the first day that we met at Howler’s, briefly introduced by our ex’s. Or the first day we spent time together, at the Zoo. Or our first date, at the Carnegie Museum and Banjo Night at James Street. Or the first time we kissed, at my apartment, when I drew a mustache on you and Chacha sat on your head and gave approval. Or the first time you told me you loved me, standing in Zythos, and I dropped my purse and kissed you, and we were so full of wonder. Or when we moved in together and you realized just how many books I owned and still let me through the door. Or when we bought our house and then continued to kill ourselves for nearly a decade making it our incredible home. Or when you asked me to marry you, in the Sculpture Hall at the Carnegie. Or when we got married on the cliffs of California in Goat Rock. Or when we brought Mambo home and couldn’t find her in the dark because she was so small and now she’s our everything. Or when we brought Rummy home and had to teach him what grass was, but now he loves us more than triangles and treats. Or when we have explored the US and Europe together; creating tales and drinking wine and experiencing life and history together, especially our afternoons in the gardens in Paris. Or when we held hands watching our family and friends get married, and helped with their new houses, and met their sweet little babies that we squeeze and love. Or meeting little darling little Lily for the first time. Or when we just sit around a fire, or on the porch, or even just lazing on the couch snuggling dogs and entertaining each other like no one else can do.
We’ve rocked it through every up, every down, every hug, and every high five.
“365 Things I Love About Liebchen” is now 2,920 Reasons. I gave up recording them because it took too much time away from squeezing your sweet little face.
I stupid love you. I’m still love tornado struck. Mein liebchen. Je t’aime, mon petit chou-fleur. Watashi, no chishiki. These were our only vows, and I mean them more today than ever.
And, here's our wedding song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Akl3k1kcPvY
I couldn’t love you more than I did the first day that we met at Howler’s, briefly introduced by our ex’s. Or the first day we spent time together, at the Zoo. Or our first date, at the Carnegie Museum and Banjo Night at James Street. Or the first time we kissed, at my apartment, when I drew a mustache on you and Chacha sat on your head and gave approval. Or the first time you told me you loved me, standing in Zythos, and I dropped my purse and kissed you, and we were so full of wonder. Or when we moved in together and you realized just how many books I owned and still let me through the door. Or when we bought our house and then continued to kill ourselves for nearly a decade making it our incredible home. Or when you asked me to marry you, in the Sculpture Hall at the Carnegie. Or when we got married on the cliffs of California in Goat Rock. Or when we brought Mambo home and couldn’t find her in the dark because she was so small and now she’s our everything. Or when we brought Rummy home and had to teach him what grass was, but now he loves us more than triangles and treats. Or when we have explored the US and Europe together; creating tales and drinking wine and experiencing life and history together, especially our afternoons in the gardens in Paris. Or when we held hands watching our family and friends get married, and helped with their new houses, and met their sweet little babies that we squeeze and love. Or meeting little darling little Lily for the first time. Or when we just sit around a fire, or on the porch, or even just lazing on the couch snuggling dogs and entertaining each other like no one else can do.
We’ve rocked it through every up, every down, every hug, and every high five.
“365 Things I Love About Liebchen” is now 2,920 Reasons. I gave up recording them because it took too much time away from squeezing your sweet little face.
I stupid love you. I’m still love tornado struck. Mein liebchen. Je t’aime, mon petit chou-fleur. Watashi, no chishiki. These were our only vows, and I mean them more today than ever.
And, here's our wedding song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Akl3k1kcPvY
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