Back from the Outer Banks

Two and a half days in the Outer Banks with five awesome ladies. Non-stop amazing weather. Five hours on the beach on Saturday followed by an all-night dance fest. Oh, and did I mention I spoke with a West Virginia accent the whole time? Hey Y'all! We've got a busy couple of days before I head out of town again *yippee!* for Joj's weekend o' fun.

First up? But after a weekend of over indulgence, I'm putting myself (and J) on detox this week. J was in New York City for the male half of the bachelorette weekend I just enjoyed. While my weekend was relaxing and revolved around spending as much time on the beach as possible, his involved being bundled up while roaming the streets of NYC at all hours of the night/morning with 6 other wild and crazy guys (and eating all the goods the city had to offer). This week will involve nothing but dark greens, celery sticks, maybe some seafood, sweat sessions at the gym, and WATER for us.

Secondly? Rounding home base on this intense game of hard ball that I've been playing for the last few weeks -- hopefully it'll all come to fruition today. Big changes are afoot in the professional realm, and I'd like to have my brain back, thank you.

Thirdly? Sharing the hilarious story of Leo's exciting (and heroic) weekend. The teaser? A text from J's mom on Saturday morning that read, "Carnage on the carpet! Leo killed a squirrel in the house -- I'm traumatized!" But don't worry, not everything is as it seems...he actually saved the day.

The Pigs Have Flown

Because now I've seen it all! One of the amazing things about living in Norfolk is some of the amazing traditions that this place keeps. One of which is the marching of the animals to the circus.

Our tree-lined streets were all aflutter yesterday afternoon when the newspaper posted a last-minute "article" saying that since the circus was coming, the animals would be marched from the train to the arena downtown at 7PM. Now, another interesting fact about Norfolk is that it is the home to PETA's headquarters. So it always turns into a ...circus?...when the Ringling Brothers come to town. Last year we missed it because they printed a time in the paper and then pulled the synthetic wool over PETA's eyes by showing up much later that night. Yesterday, however, they were true to their word.

Mr. Officer, protecting the streets from stampedes

Bike cops galore! Here they come!

At this point, J had to "back it up" with the dogs, since we had no idea how they'd react. Also, this is the moment that my preggo friend Carey and I started jumping up and down.

So fun! And cute! And if you look carefully, on the right side of the 'phants, PETA people were marching with signs, peaceably, because that is their right. I just had to laugh because J had been begging me to go stand on that side of the road, and if we had, PETA would've totally blocked our view. And they might've stolen Leo, thinking that we'd illegally imported a dingo.

But the elephants had their own signs. And they said, "Greatest Show on Earth." Also, I will have you know, the rest of them (other than the two pictured here) were holding the tails of the friend in front of them. That made my heart sing with glee.

There they go! It truly was one of those moments where five minutes later I was all, "Hmm, can't say that's something I've seen before."

And I guess we know who was on poop patrol!

Sniff sniff, cough cough

The fam at one of Dad's many ceremonies...my gift to you, Dad?

Being able to enjoy springtime. Love always, Stacy

When I decided to move to Virginia back in 2004, the one thing I didn't think about was the pollen. The ridiculous cartoonish amounts of pollen that falls out of the trees this time of year. The pollen that coats every car in the neighborhood. The pollen that clogs ones windshield wiper sprayers, so your car can't even fight off the pollen. The pollen that causes my eyes to water, my ears to sound like I'm underwater, my throat to burn. Ahh...the first sinus infection of the season!

And as I was sitting at work this week, sniffling-sneezing-wheezing-coughing, I had a thought. Has anyone ever done a study on military dependents to see if they're more susceptible to allergies and sinus issues? I've heard the theories about eating local honey because it exposes you to the pollen that the local bees are eating, blah blah, and if you think that it works, then you're immediately buying into my theory that military kids are already prone to having worse allergies, because they're moving around from place to place during their childhood years.

Because I don't think there's a way I can capitalize off this theory, since I'm not a scientist or pharmacist, so I share the idea with you. Considering that two out of the three people I know with the worst allergies (J-Gib and me being two of them) are Army brats. Lived everywhere this side of Timbuktu. Theory PROVED. Please add that to the list of sacrifices made by military families.

Dorkletwins

A few weeks back, J and I spent one of the warmest nights of the year (so far) on his parents' dock while they were out of town. It was so perfect and lovely and resulted in many cute pictures of the babies.

A particularly lovely view from my future in-laws dock.

Buddy boy

The girls

My ladybird

He's the cutest boy in the world!

Ears back, Mary wistfully wishes her friend the crane would come home.

Run, run dock boy!

Snow Day

So it snowed on Friday night. Apparently the largest snowfall in two decades, and definitely the only time I've seen real snow in my five years Virginia. Needless to say, it basically is shutting down the region transportation-wise. No plow has been through our neighborhood, no salt trucks, no nothing. I'm willing to bet that maybe 1 in 4 houses has a snow shovel, judging from the still snow-covered sidewalks. There are 6 or so inches of snow still covering my car. Just amazing.


My neighbors had a raging party on Friday night so Justin's friend his girlfriend stayed in our guest room. And when we all woke up and saw the snow, we called some other friends and met up for brunch to celebrate SNOW DAY with bloody marys and mimosas! Then we took the dogs (their G. shepherd Cheyenne pictured above with Leo) on an incredibly beautiful and quiet walk to a park where the pups ran around frantically in the snow with about 6 other snow-covered pooches. Hilarious.

Mary looking like a beautiful model.

Cheyenne carrying her log back from the park...

Leo taking a short break from eating huge mouthfuls of snow.

Having spent most of my life in the Midwest, snow is not usually such a novelty. I was thinking about how there are kids here who (unless they've traveled elsewhere) had never seen snow before this weekend. Never made a snowman. Never had a snowball fight...so sad.

Never had their boss call them two hours ago to tell them it's essential-personnel-only tomorrow...so no work for me. So for now, it's wool socks and hot chocolate and movie time.

The Mighty Nor'easter

When I moved to Virginia five years ago, I knew that I was trading the Midwest's tornados for the East's hurricanes. I didn't know I was also in the market for Nor'Easters. I don't even think I'd ever heard that word before.

I arrived here the year after Hurricane Isabel, the most severe hurricane these parts have seen. My friends have told me horror stories about being without power for weeks (weeks!) and how the tunnel I drive through twice a day for work was closed for months (months!). There is a special clause in our contract with our wedding venue that if a hurricane comes through and wipes out the entire museum before our wedding date we will be refunded for 100% of our deposit. Just a crazy way of life that I never had to think about before moving here. And since I've been here, I haven't seen a real hurricane, thankfully. But I've seen the Nor'easters. I can't tell you the difference between a hurricane and a Nor'easter, but I know that the latter of the two are not named storms. Other than that? Umm, no difference? The local news sources are comparing this storm to Isabel, with massive power outages, higher than normal tides and severe coastal flooding.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning in a true attempt to go to work. I still have my awful cough and rough voice (as can be confirmed by Laura, who got a good chuckle out of it last night), but I'm getting better. At the same time that my alarm went off, J was driving through our neighborhood, dodging downed trees and lakes of flood waters. Stuck. After 24 hours of heavy rain, the whole region is stuck. J couldn't make it out of our neighborhood. And even if he had, the tunnel that he was headed for was closed. Marooned. He came back home, defeated...and promptly went back to bed. With the rain pounding rhythmically against even window in our house, I don't blame him.

My boss is flooded in on the island she lives on. We chatted this morning as I sipped my cup of tea sweetened with the cinnamon/lemon honey she steeped for me as a gift -- as she looked out her back window, commenting how the water has now swallowed the pilings of her dock. She doesn't have any power. She's staying home today. She doesn't have a choice.

As we nestle in for another day of gray heavy rain, the toughest decision on my plate is how to get the dogs to their weekend destinations today. At some point we're going to have to decide, come hell and high water, if we're going to be able to make it on this trip.

Black Cloud

It's been a rough couple of months in our house. I try not to linger on this stuff but I feel like I need to get some of it "out there" in order to get it off my chest.

In order:
-A horrible sinus infection / ear infection
-An awful reaction to my antibiotic
-A trip to the ER
-3 trips to the doctor over a 2-week time span
-A week without J & Mary (they went on vacation)
-A car wreck -- not my fault, but it's no consolation because it's turning into a bigger headache than the one I had for the 4 days after the accident.


So instead of lingering too long on the negative, I'm going to try to accentuate the positive:
-A two-year anniversary, that allowed me to give J the "big secret" surprise I'd been waiting to give him for MONTHS...officially the first surprise I've ever pulled off with him. Painting with Cita the elephant at the zoo. I think this picture will always make me smile. Mostly because you can see that he's grinning like a 6-year-old. (It's worth mentioning that Cita is a movie star. She was in PeeWee's Big Adventure and The Color Purple. That's a pretty diverse resume.)


-I missed out on most of beach week this year because I was so sick. But J was a trooper and took both dogs the night the fam just hung around on the sand to relax and watch fireworks. He brought me back this picture, which makes me smile equally as hard. Pictured in the green (guess J and his pops both enjoy green tees?) is my future father in law and his future granddog in law watching fireworks on the beach together. Love it.


-As mentioned earlier, our household was split in two for a week, as J and Mary headed back to Tennessee for a week of outdoorsiness. Because I changed jobs in August, I couldn't take that much time off to go (which turned out to be ironic because I was home sick that whole week???). He came back with a beard, a smile, and one stinky dog. But no ticks, oh, and this picture. I call it "Mary of the Valley" and this is where her heart lives.


-And my prides and joys. My ready-made collection of antique Mason jars. I have had them for a few months now, but here's a picture before I washed them. You can kind of see it on one of them, but a few of them have remnants of old jam labels on them. From the kitchen of Ruth. Blackberry jam. Boysenberry jam. My favorite says "Grape jelly -- ???" That's the kind of mystery I think would've been worth solving. These will be front and center (literally) at the wedding...centerpieces. Some holding zinnias. Some holding mums. But all of them holding a little piece of the past. I love that.

For Joanna: How Mary Saved Us From a Rattler

About ten or fifteen minutes before J proposed on Easter, we came across quite a shock.  

Seashore is a very heavily wooded area, even though I only seem to take pictures of the beaches.  The part that we were walking on was a fairly narrow path (one person + one dog wide).  Since it's so close to our beach, Mary was running freely off her leash.  She'd go splash off to the side of the path in an unseen body of water...and then she'd come ZOOOOOMing past us...it's what she does every single time we go.   Nothing new.

But this past week, We come around a bend (why do all good stories involve coming around a bend?) in the path and there she is, just frozen.  She was staring very intently at a patch of brush.  Not.moving.a.muscle. It was so odd to me to see her like that, but J knew the look immediately.  She was alerting.  "What's she looking at?" he wondered aloud as he pushed past Leo and me.  As we start to near the bush in question, something...jumps...and scurries off the path.  I figured it was a frog.  Why?  Self preservation.

When we are standing directly beside Mary, we follow her gaze to a small brush clearing, about 4 feet away from us, and I see, no joke, a rattlesnake slowly raise it's tail.  If it weren't absolutely terrifying it would have been comical because it was exactly like a movie, like a nightmare...seeing and hearing that tail rattling like that was dead on what I would've expected.  I remember thinking, "Huh...they really do that!"  But luckily for me, I was having that strange thought as I was running away from the snake...Leo in a chokehold (hey, he's a city boy).  Only when we were far enough away did I start ranting about how we almost died and Mary had saved us.  What a good Tennessee girl she was!  (NOTE: the rattlesnake picture from above is from Wikipedia.  We didn't get any pictures, naturally!)

If Mary hadn't been so dang country, there's a good chance that I could've stepped on it, or Leo could have, or one, both, or all four of us could've gotten bitten repeatedly and immediately poisoned to death...and while we lay dying from rattlesnake venom gotten attacked by tarantulas and rabid bats simultaneously.  So let's just say Mary got loads of treats that night.  But since we treat the babies equally, Leo got some to match.

Oh...and we ran into this gem too.  Apparently the snakes were loving the weather. 

Can't yet find the words

I've been writing and then rewriting "the perfect summary."  I keep deleting it.  Let's just say it starts with this: 

Then this:

Add in a little of this:

And a splash of this:

And finally...this:

I'm working on the less hyphenated version, but for now...this will have to do.

Party Poopers

I once watched Ellen Degeneres describe how embarrassing it is when other people to see you watch into a spider web.  There's no recovering from it, no saving face.  You know the feeling of just totally freaking out, with the only concern in your mind is making sure there was no spider in said web when you walked straight into it.

I hate to tell her that I've found an event even more embarrassing.  It's called walking my two dogs.  This morning, like every Saturday in recent months, J is at work so I take the dogs on a solo walk.  And I should take a moment to explain that walking on a leash is on of Leo's fortes.  I've said before that I think he would've made a swell police dog due to his never-ending energy and determination to defend.  So putting him on a leash is one place he feels that I'm fully in control (J will argue with this and says Leo won't stop "honking" at people...aka the lovely sound he makes when he pulls himself against his leash too hard)  Mary on the other hand was raised in Tennessee.  Off a leash.  Where she ran with a pack of free-roaming dogs through the fields and mountains, chasing deer and rabbits.  So now when we force her to wear a leash, it's kind of like me trying to squeeze into my old prom dress: it just doesn't fit.  

When we moved to this condo and solo dog-walking became a necessary evil, I devised a plan.  I've figured out a way to walk them very closely to each other (maybe 8 inches apart), side-by-side with me, 3 abreast if you will.  That usually keeps them too distracted by each other's proximity to act up.  If they could talk, I'm sure this is the point one of them would screech, "Mooooommm, he's touching me!"  This phase, Cocky Walking Mode, has been working out fairly well for me.  I prefer a swift pace and so do they.  Sometimes I get a little too proud of them, thinking we must look like a cute trio --  such well-behaved dogs.  I imagine in this early leg of the walk, we're the little clan that make other dog-owners wish their dogs could walk on a leash so nicely.  Until...one of them breaks ranks to poo.

Let's face it, dog poo is a part of life.  J and I give each other updates, and ask for updates, several times a day.  "How are the babies?  They poo yet?"  I'm sure my cubemates think I have a sick obsession for excrement, but if you're a dog owner, you get it.  And it never fails, just as we're getting into our stride, a girl and her 2 obedient dogs walking down the street, one of them will just stop.  And squat defiantly.  And I'll immediately shift into Poo Mode, which consists of wrangling the other dog as far away as possible (common decency, right?) and digging for my poo bag (what you non-dog owners might refer to as a "Walmart bag") and waiting for the glorious moment I get to trust a miniscule layer of plastic to protect me from all that is evil in this world.  I also get to perform the poo-squat myself, bending over to scoop up nastiness.  There is a dog park down the street bordered by condo buildings on 2 sides and I secretly wonder if one of those condo inhabitants is standing by a tripod in his condo, snapping pictures of unsuspecting victims to eventually publish a photo book called, "Bending Over: The Art of Poop-Scooping in South Hampton Roads."  Yes, people, these are things I really wonder about.

Then the equation gets a little more fun because now I'm juggling the dogs and a tied up bag of turds.  And once the other dog poos, that's when we shift into Danger Zone Mode.  Two bags of crap, two dogs, two hands...you do the math, they've got my king in check.  They own me at this point.  Our neighborhood has a few trash cans along our walking route, so when I'm at max capacity, this is when I shift into Danger Zone walking mode.  I pick up pace and hightail it to the first trash can as fast as possible, usually several blocks away...I imagine it looking like a crazy game of Frogger from a bird's eye view.  I dodge all bushes -- Leo will try to mark every bush if you let him, even when he's just at the point of willing something to come out.  I dodge all puddles -- Mary will stop at every.single.puddle. to snatch a quick drink despite what may be floating in it...hey, she's a country dog, y'all.  I avoid all yards I know house loud barking dogs.  I avoid people.  Parking lots.  Stop signs.  You get the picture: I'm a woman on a mission, a secret agent trying to deliver a top secret package before a deadline.  National security practically depends on how fast I can trot to that trash can.

Once I've reached Euphoria Mode, what happens after said poo bags have been disposed of, I relax a little.  The dogs start to slow down, worn out after such an adventure.  The only thing that can get in the way of our now way easy walk home is a squirrel.  Just as it did this morning.  Both dogs started lurching forward, pulling way stronger than normal, and I kind of lean back into my shoes to brace myself.  Their strength catches me off guard and the combo of their pulling and my resistance leaves me reluctantly bunny hopping down the sidewalk.  I reach deep within my being, and muster just enough power to emit a guttural, throaty reprimand.

"LEO...MARY...LEEEEAAAVVVEEE IIITTTT!!!!"

I glance to my right and see on the opposite sidewalk and see a man jogging behind his young daughter's bicycle.  I can't help but think after they passed me that he must've whispered to her, "Sweetie, it's not polite to stare at crazy people." 

Snowed Out

Being snowed out is the opposite of being snowed in.  Let me elaborate.

On Friday at work, in the 70 degree weather, the inclement weather email came out, warning everyone about potential winter weather conditions on Sunday/Monday.  Ok, sure.  It's 70 degrees outside! Saturday's all-day nasty rain threatened to dampen (but did not) Berkley's first birthday party and then later going to watch J's mama performance (she's in the symphony's choir).  But more on that later.

The rain continued alllll day yesterday, too.  It kept us inside most of the day.  Last night during my phone date with LEMonade things finally broke loose.  I'm sitting at my office, starting to work on our design when -- LIGHTS OUT.  The balcony door blew open.  The pure blackness surrounded me and I started freaking out a little.  After bidding a sudden adieu to Miss Lauren, I set out in the blackness of the condo, arms outstretched and using my cell phone as a mini flashlight, looking for J or the babies.  We lit every candle we have, and it was a beautiful little haven...albeit freezing and very quiet.  We decided to play Clue because it seemed like the right thing to do, but then realized 3 players are needed -- dang it!

Then this morning.  Oh this morning.  J had to be at work at 6, and I figured if there was snow on the ground, he definitely would've said something to me.  And since he left for work with a regular good-bye kiss, I figured I'd be on my way to work shortly.  So the snow on the rooftops, balcony, streets and cars was a huge surprise!  The wind's a howling out there, blowing flurries around.  The blue-gray skies were ominous when I took the dogs outside, doing my best to avoid the scenario running through my head:  being pulled down the arctic street by my newly-transformed huskies...mush! mush!  This girl's snow boots were in the backseat of my car...fantastic planning, right?  As I scraped the 2 inches of snow and ice off my car I couldn't help being grateful for my Midwestern roots.  I looked around at my neighbors and a few were using make-shift scrapers.  One was using a teeny squeegee.  Being my father's daughter, I've got a 3-foot-long monster that just busted right through this East Coast snow.  

I started to inch my way down the road.  A few intersections were a little slick, but nothing I couldn't handle.  I turned onto the entrance ramp of the Midtown tunnel to find a neon-clad VDOT worker detouring traffic away from the entrance.  CLOSED.  Try again later.

I've called my boss and informed him I'll be trying again at noon.  Have to say, it's the first time I've wanted to go to work, and not been able to get there.  Pity.  Now I'll have to squeeze in another cup of coffee and a snuggle with the pups during some righteous daytime telly. 

Fly Me to the Moon

J was off today and decided to go visit his Grandaddy in Moon, Virginia.  It's a little town; I don't know the population, but I'd guess 3.  When we went to visit last year, it certainly felt like it was just us and Grandaddy.  Amazing solitude, beautiful land, breathtaking private coves...simply paradise.  Grandaddy, a young 93, is seriously one of the most amazing men I've had the pleasure of meeting. So learned, when you talk to him you get the feeling that he's experienced everything. From his smooth lines (the first time I hugged him, his hearing aide buzzed and he said to me slyly, "It buzzes when a pretty girl is nearby."), to his knowledge of the outdoors, to his vast collections of just about everything -- he's someone you just want to visit.   So when J told me this week he was taking another trip up to visit, it got me thinking about our last visit.  And just how badly I want to go back.

His huge barn (pictured above) was a treasure trove of all things antique.  Home to many a canoe and kayak, as well as the perfect baby blue life vest he let me borrow, that barn has stories to tell and secrets to keep.  It's where I saw my first Barn Swallow.  It's where I felt such a feeling of peace staring out to the water from the oversized windows on the second floor, surrounded by the best smelling air this side of Tennessee.

Miss Mary knee-deep in mud -- her favorite place to be!

Captain J, master canoe wave-jumper

Canoeing in the middle of the sound, in quite deep water, 

willing Mary to be still and symmetrical so we wouldn't tip over.

Parked at our beach. J loves this picture.

"This is my cove!"

And the ultimate surprise?  Someone else got to go along today.  Yes, while I worked 11 hard hours, Mr. Leo frolicked, played, ran, and sniffed every inch of that land.  I can't wait for my team to get home so I can hear allll about it and see alllll the pictures.  Waiting in their food bowls are 2 bones I picked up tonight at the store, a special treat for my stinky tired worn-out babies.  I'm sure a post is in order.

Crestfallen

You know what, that's one of my favorite words.  

And the only reason it's the title of this post is because there was not a flake of snow to be found today.  A flurry here or there, but no snow.  And wouldn't you know, every.single.school. in this region was closed!  Every public school in the Seven Cities--closed, even the universities!  This is the stuff we Kansans used to dream about...closing school on the chance of snow.  It made me laugh a little.

Because I had been hoping to not have to go to work today at all, and since that somehow made me early to work, and due in part to a really good review I got today at the office = I left early.  Not really early, just the time I used to leave before these past two months have claimed my personal life.

I don't know what I'll do with my time!

Hanna Banana

Dear Hanna-

Look, I'd really appreciate if you'd decide whether or not you're going to make landfall as a tropical storm or as a hurricane, ok?  I've already canceled all my weekend plans in your honor, and don't get me wrong, I'm not upset about that part.  I'd simply like to know if I need to go out and buy a generator...or just some more wine.

Thank you,

Stacy

Medium Rare

Ahh Labor Day.  A day to be outside with friends.  A day to be burnt to a crisp.

After a wonderful day of fun aboard our friends' boat, J and I are certainly paying the price.  We set sail around 10AM, armed with chips and beer and SPF.  We hit some great fishing spots and I caught more fish than I've ever caught before.  I also caught a clam shell...J was proud.

Around 2PM we decided, wow, we should really re-apply, it's really hot out, we're starting to get red, wow, we're really red.  We dove into the water for a quick dip, and then docked the boat at a restaurant on the water and had a beer and the best hush puppies of our lives.  At one point I redid my ratty hair into a ponytail and realized how tight my arms were, and how badly I'd screwed myself.  And then had to get back on the boat for another 2 hours to get home.  The burning continued.

Last night was spent taking cold showers and applying aloe to the parts of each others' backs that we can't reach ourselves.  Why won't I ever learn that my pale self and my equally pale boyfriend can't hang with our tan friends? After a day of "SOMEone got some SUN this weekend -- hardy har harrr!" comments, I've definitely learned my lesson. 

Ketchup

I've been quite the busy bee lately, so here are the top 10 happenings as of late:

1. Last week we spent Sunday - Wednesday every evening at J's family's beach house to celebrate his g-parents' 70th anniversary. His family, all 45 that I met, is just awesome and I loved spending so much time with them. Apparently that's a rarity in this world, but I'm lucky enough to come from an awesome family as well, so I just think that's normal. They're a really great bunch and I am amazed at how "in" I already feel with them.

2. Once we decided to stay in the Euroloft, i.e. saving money, we decided to schedule a quick weekend camping trip. We went up to the Rappahannock River (about 2 hours away) and camped and canoed. We did an amazing 11-mile canoe trip. It was such beautiful scenery. At one point, I convinced J to "park" the canoe (I'm so not nautical) and just sit in some rapids for a little bit as if it were nature's jacuzzi. We stopped on a little beach and ate our picnic and relaxed in the sun. Saturday night, J made hobos in the campfire (hello Girl Scouts!) and we just passed out from exhaustion.

3. After #2's invoked exhaustion, we coined the phrase "Tennessee Tired." Meaning the happy tired feeling that comes after an extreme hike, canoe trip, etc., that reminds us of how we felt every night in Tennessee. Tired, but content.

4. Work has been so incredibly slow the past 2 weeks that I've wanted to rip my eyelashes out to stay awake. It's a bad slow.

5. My birthday is in 6 days! I got my first bday present from J...a beautiful sapphire ring. He did so well. He was too excited to wait and give it to me later...I love that boy to death. His second gift, that will be blogged about fo' sho', is a trip with the dogs to a pet psychic. I can't wait to ask Leo a ton of questions. Can anyone think of anything really great to ask him?

6. I've been out of Allegra since Saturday. AAGGGH. I'm also covered head-to-toe in bug bites despite my best efforts to stay covered in a blanket of bug spray. However, my religious applications of SPF helped, because neither of us burned despite being in the direct blazing sun on a river for 6+ hours.

7. Heat index in Norfolk today? 105

8. Scratch that, I only had 7 things to talk about.

Fiddler (crab) on the Roof

Sometimes it escapes me how close my office is to the water. But on days like today when I'm bored out of my mind and walking aimlessly in the parking lot, I was quickly reminded. Wanna know why?

Here's why. It's called a Fiddler Crab, and they're all over the parking lot. Dead, by the way. Not sure how or why they're there, but they're gross. I saw at least 15 today. Don't get me wrong, I like crabs. But I like them on my plate served with butter. NOT underfoot and crunchy. SICK. (P.S. not my hand).

Future posts I will work on, but not right now:

-"70th anniversary parties and beach week fabulousness"
-"Country mouse and city mouse go camping part 2"

Good times never seemed so good

All right. So I'm going to talk about the wedding I attended last night for a few minutes. Technically, the festivities began Friday night. I thought it was the rehearsal dinner, but they held that the night before. Friday was just an extra party. For funsies. They had a catered BBQ for 150 of their closest friends and family (and me) including the owner of a local hotspot in Norfolk, Doumar's, a little diner that claims to have invented the first ice cream cone machine. So they brought this historic piece of amazingness and made fresh waffle cones with delish ice cream for guests to enjoy after a steamboat ride on the river. Once it got late, all the youngsters headed to a bar that they'd rented out, ya know, to continue partying. That was my first clue of what we were in for last night.

Emily's ivory silk dress was very Grace Kelly inspired, and oh so classic. She didn't wear a veil, and I couldn't help but think how posh it was. She had beautiful flowers in her hair, and a deep, but tasteful V in the back of her dress that would've been hidden beneath a veil. She had 10 bridesmaids, 2 flowers girls, and 2 ring bearers. Yeah. One of their readings was the passage on friendship from The Prophet, so of course I loved that since it's one of my favorite books ever.

After a very lovely ceremony (my first Episcopalian service) we headed to the bride's parents' mansion, where the reception was in the sprawling backyard. There were huge tents set up and the first thing that caught our eyes were the tables of food. This fare was extreme. I mean, we're talking crab claws, baby lamb chops, soft-shell crab, lobster cakes, seared tuna, an entire table dedicated to shrimp of all kinds, and I can't even begin to mention the cheese table. It was insane. The open bar meant that I had a full glass of Pinot Grigio in my hand at every turn. (Perhaps the wine was the reason I got through half of my piece of the cake before realizing it had some sort of lemon curd in it. And then I put it down. :)

After Emily and John arrived to the party by boat, the party really kicked off. Fireworks were set off by a barge on the river, signifying it was time to par-tay. At one point I looked around and I believe that every single person was on the dance floor. Well, everyone except J--he was out on the dock with his boys. So when "Sweet Caroline" came on, I danced and sang with J's dad, sis, bro-in-law, and niece. It was an amazing memory for sure. Berkley, totally the celebri-baby of the evening, got her revenge on an old man who kept spinning her around by pooping on him. Hilarity ensued. Delilah, the Websters' gray-faced chocolate lab, was wearing a special collar of ribbons and flowers, and she joined the dance floor for the father/daughter dance.

One thing that I noticed was that the party was still completely full and hopping when it shut down around midnight. I don't know if I have ever heard of a reception where literally no one left until it was over, and the crowd was a mix of young and old, possibly tipped more heavily on the old side. Emily asked J and I to join them on the Trolley and head downtown to the hotel where they, and their out of towner Colorado friends were staying for a continuation of the celebration. We obliged, and boarded a Trolley with about 30 other people and spent another 2 hours sitting on a patio by the water. Beautiful. I met a really fun and adorable girl who I exchanged numbers with...her fiance used to play sports with J.
It was an amazing wedding for sure, but quite extravagent and extreme and not something I could ever imagine being "the norm." I can't help but imagine my wedding, wayyy in the future, to be simple, and small, and not at all flashy. During a dance with J, I said, "this is really nice, but it's way nicer than anything we'll ever have." After asking what I meant, I said, "There won't be boats at our wedding, or soft-shell crabs, or fireworks..." and he said, "Well, that's what you think," and kissed me, and twirled me around, and for a moment, someone else's wedding was part of my very own fairy-tale.

Fog Happens: My trip to Sewanee, above the clouds

Day One: Wednesday

We departed after work in a PT Cruiser, my apologies if you own one (I'm reminded of an incident in college when Sam Dyer offended half the class of sorority girls by saying that riding in a Chevy Cavalier is like being tossed about in an aluminum foil bag--and then came back to apologize after some of them complained about it). It took us 10 hours, and we got in around 3AM. It was rainy and foggy and generally a scary ride up the mountain. We are unable to attain the key to the forestry cabin that we'd reserved, so we sleep in the car...for 3 hours.

Day Two: Thursday

Because it was still kinda rainy out, we did a driving tour, and stopped by and met some of J's old friends. We also got the key to the cabin and headed out there...and when I tell you that we were on bouncy rocky pock-marked puddly gravel roads in that PT Cruiser, boy oh boy, that doesn't even give that road justice. My heart stopped a little each time we had to drive through a puddle for fear that we'd blow a tire...which we did, but that comes later. The forestry cabin was exactly that: a cabin in the forest. I mean, the real forest. We were out in the middle of nowhere, but at the same time, I knew we were within a few miles of campus. We set up our tent inside the cabin (my request at a compromise since it was rainy and chilly) and it turned out to be such a great move.

With so little sleep the night before, we decided to use the rest of the day as our "vacation day" and we bought some wine and relaxed by the fire, talked about everything under the sun (literally) and eventually took a nap, which was glorious. We ate dinner that night at a pizza place that had opened up after J graduated, so it was a new experience for both of us. The kid who waited on us was a local boy who J had mentored in a youth program a few years before, so it was neat to see them catch up. We went back to the tent, and as expected, I had some trouble falling asleep. Not because I wasn't exhausted, but because I was honestly very frightened; I'm a CSI-watching paranoid realist and I kept thinking that if I closed my eyes too long, someone would sneak up on us. That didn't happen, obviously.

Day Three: Friday

We woke up at around 8 and decided to go get breakfast. On our way, J notices a "funny little light" on the dashboard, that kind of resembled a check tire light. While parked at the student center to perform our daily "washing" in the bathroom, a nice man tells me we have a flat tire. My heart, just like the tire, deflates. At that moment, I seriously figured our trip was doomed. But, in true Southern hospitality, the owners of the gas station in town recognized him and stopped their current tasks to fix our tire...for ten dollars. After being told we'd gotten ourselves screwed (picked up a screw in the tire, that is), we thanked them profusely and went along on our merry way.

After breakfast we went on a mind-blowing hike called "Bridal Veil." It was very steep, and nestled in the woods far away from any sounds of civilization. After what seemed like forever, we rounded a tree and suddenly I could hear it: the waterfall. We made our way down to the bottom (or so I thought) and we were standing on the lip of a sink hole looking up at the most beautiful waterfall I've ever seen. It was especially lovely due to the rain from the previous days. We stopped to take a few pictures and rest, and J made me go to the next level down to the forest floor. He definitely had to push me past my limits because I was ready to stop at the falls, but I went, and I'm glad he's such a good motivator. The trip back out of Bridal Veil was another story, because we were so tired and worn out. We made some fantastic decisions in the cuisine field that night, and bought a disposable charcoal grill, bratwursts, and BEANIE WEENIES! I was also suffering from a random insatiable craving for grape juice.

During out outdoor cookfest, it became clear to us that something was wrong with Miss Mary, as she was shaking and wobbling and her eyes were darting all around. Seeing how we were out in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception, a little panic ensued. Finally after hours of stressing and yes, a few tears, an emergency vet called us back and told us she sounded hypoglycemic and could we give her any honey or Karo syrup? Nope, we're camping, but we did just happen to have a very high in sugar grape juice bottle, and she drank it like a champ and was fine in a few more hours. She scared us pretty good, but I had a talk with her and let her know that it was NOT OK for her to be sick. She listened.

Day Four: Saturday

As soon as we woke up, we knew we had to make our move. It was gorgeous outside and we were not going to waste the sunlight. We went on another hike, called "Shakerag." It was so picturesque. We encountered a group of 4 old men on the trail, the leader of whom had a large knobby walking stick and, ahem, was barefooted. We stopped and chatted with them for a little bit, and later on in the hike it occurred to me that they might've been wizards. I don't think any of them had long flowing Dumbledore hair, but two of them did have white beards. It might've been the euphoria of being completely surrounded by nature and dancing trees and grey horned owls (or is it great horned owls?), but I convinced myself, and probably J, that those 4 were forest wizards.

After our hike, we went to visit one of J's old coworkers...a 60-something lady named Ruth who had grown up on the mountain. Trying to capture Ruth's character could fill up an entire book, but it'll suffice to say she was just about as animated and crass as a 60-year-old lady can be. She was delightfully fun, and she regaled us with tons of tales of life as a single older gal. By the way, it should be mentioned that the entire time she was talking to us, her little moppy black Pomeranian dog Darling was totally humping his teddy bear. I kept thinking, "Stacy, do not look at that dog and that bear," but darnit, it was hard. And I swear, Darling gave that teddy an afternoon he won't soon forget.

That night, we decided to give our little charcoal grill another shot at glory and grilled dinner again. We used some wild rosemary we found in a garden J maintained in college to marinate our steak, with an appetizer of gouda and wheat crackers. We sat in silence for a few minutes just watching. And listening. And for me, writing poetry in my head that I'm still forcing myself to hammer out onto paper. We gathered wood for the fire, and stopped to watch the sunset on a huge rock jutting out over a cliff. Beautiful and breathtaking. We were both exhausted by the end of the day, but reluctant to fall asleep because we knew what it would mean when we woke up.

Day Five: Sunday

It didn't take nearly as long for us to break down camp as I'd expected, and we were on the road fairly early on. We didn't make it but an hour and a half on the road before we had to switch drivers due to sleepiness and gray skies and rain, and we continued to switch off and on the rest of the trip. It was around hour 4 that I turned around to glance at sweet Mary when I saw it. The Tick. Crawling on her angel face. I summoned all the courage I had, plucked it off, and tossed it out the window. For the remainder of the trip she was known as "Tickbag." I found 2 more on her, J found one as well. I also found one on my arm in the car and screamed so loud J almost ran off the road. I think it was justified. I've always hated those evil creatures, but I realized why I hate them so much in the PT Cruiser that day. They're like mean little aftertastes of a wonderful trip. You can have all the fun in the world, and then find a tick in your hair and BAM, ticks are all you can think about. We got home safely, unpacked, de-ticked ourselves again (me: one biter on the ankle, J: one biter on the...um...nether regions), and called it a day. A wonderful, adventurous, exhausting day.

It was so great to finally see the place where my man called "home." It's his Virginia, his independent, out-on-his-own, just-for-me move. I feel like I *get* him better after seeing it, after being there. In the words of wise old Ruth, "Honey, I never met anyone who didn't leave a little bit of their heart on this mountain when they left."