Hey That’s A Nice Life

It’s the first day of summer. Hurray!

Temperatures above 90 degrees. Humidity. Impossible to find shade. Boo!

This week Don and I found two ways to cool off in the heat.

First, on Don’s birthday we went to Gunpowder Falls State Park in Maryland and rented a couple of tubes, then spent a lazy couple of hours floating down the river.

Don wrote about our trip for WeLoveDC. Here are some shots:

At the end of the week, we took our friend Ciara (who was visiting from Seattle) out to the country to visit a couple of wineries (Chateau O’Brien and FoxMeadows) and to jump into a swimming hole.  The one we visited was Buzzard Rock Hole in the Elizabeth Furnace area of the George Washington National Forest.

I started this blog when I was planning our wedding. Last weekend we celebrated our one year anniversary. At an art show. In Richmond. Where it was 98 degrees. While I was a little unhappy with the chilly temps and overcast sky on our wedding day, I had to admit it was a lot better than the heat and humidity this year. 

Here we are posing in our booth on the morning of May 2, 2010 - one year after our lovely wedding.

The traditional gift for a one year anniversary is paper. I made a faux Washington Post cover for Don with the headline ”Virginia Couple Sentenced to 99 to Life,” a nod to the inscriptions on our wedding bands. I also gave him tickets to see Lyle Lovett who wrote the song “She’s No Lady She’s Your Wife” which was the original source of the inscriptions.

Don gave me the beautiful Tina Palmer oil on plaster on canvas painting below.  I love it. A lot.

Also, back in April I finally ordered our wedding album. We used a photo book website, Blurb.com, and I am very pleased with the product.

Shortly after my birthday last year, I wrote about turning 34 (When I was 34, it was a Very Good Year). I was sentimental about it because I was going to get married the year I was 34.  Everything we did for a whole year, I kept telling myself, happened “the year we were engaged.”  I’m a sap, okay?  I’ve grown accustomed to it and so should you.

Even Don has been mildly impacted by this sentimentality.  Shortly after the wedding, he started pointing out things we did for the first time as a married couple.  Like when we got ready for his birthday party he said, “This is the first time we’ve thrown a party at the house since we were married.”  Considering that we’d been married for six weeks at the time (and two of them were spent on our honeymoon in Costa Rica), it wasn’t too surprising.  A few weeks ago when Don’s family visited, we were sure to point out to one another that it was the first time that Mr. & Mrs. Whiteside had visited Mr. & Mrs. Whiteside … and the first Thanksgiving we’d celebrated as a married couple.

So, I was right when I named that post last year.  When I was 34, it was, in fact, a very good year.

But today I turn 35.  A year older than I was when I got married.  Part of me is a little sad.  My 34th year is going to be pretty hard to top.  Then I think about all the great things our future holds, and I couldn’t be more excited to be 35.  As great as 34 was, I have a feeling 35 is going to be even better.

After a house full of Thanksgiving company and our third trip to Dulles, Don and I decided to head a little further out and cut down our Christmas tree in Middleburg, VA.  This is the third year we have cut a fresh tree and we really enjoy it.  Not only are the tree farms usually in pretty areas and a lot of fun, but the trees last a lot longer.

The tree farm we picked this year had a lot of cute animals.

Like donkeys:

 And goats:

And buffalo:

But, the real reason we were there was to cut down a tree.  We ended up getting a fluffy, long needle tree which is a very different style for us.

As we left, the sun was slipping down beyond the mountains.

 See the pictures from the day on Flickr.

We live in a house that was built in 1929 and, like a lot of houses from that era, there’s not so much in the way of built-in storage.  We have a lot of stuff so this poses an additional problem for us.  We received so many wonderful gifts for the wedding - things we really wanted and will use for a long, long time - but we don’t really have handy space to store them.  Sure, we could load up the basement, but if the items aren’t handy we won’t use them.

Lately, the dining room has been driving me crazy.    We have a separate, formal dining room and I love to have that space.  Don and I eat dinner in there most nights (only occasionally parking our plates in front of the living room TV).   The dining room table seats six most of the time, but can be made into a four-square or expanded to seat eight.  

Besides the table and chairs, however, there are six other pieces of furniture in the dining room and the space just can’t accommodate it.  It’s too crowded and there’s still not enough practical and attractive storage. 

I decided a little redecorating was in order. First we tackled a long, narrow console table that we’ve basically used as a bar.  My grandfather made it for me back when I lived in Silver Spring with the smallest kitchen ever. I gave him some measurements - including the height of the counter - and he producded a piece that served as extra work room and a little extra storage (three drawers for cooking utensils and a shelf for pots and pans). I didn’t want to part with it because it has sentimental value, but it was no longer useful.  We brought the table into the living room, but the table was just too high to be functional.

I asked Don to cut off the legs and really make it into a table we can use.  I think he was surprised that I wanted to alter something my grandfather made - but given the options of either getting rid of it or making it seven inches shorter,  the choice was clear.  He trimmed down the legs and sanded the bottoms and now that table fits perfectly in front of the window alcove that overlooks our backyard.  See for yourself:

We picked out a couple of other pieces to edit as well, and I bought a few new items with better storage, but those are for another post.  For now, I’m going to drink my coffee and admire my newly re-purposed table.

As I have mentioned before, Don and I are not religious people.  However, I am a believer in ritual and traditions.  I also try to be thankful for my blessings - whatever the source of those blessing may be. 

For years, I have been thinking that I want to declare my gratitude before our dinner meal, but we never seem to get around to incorporating this tradition.

Don once forwarded me a link from Ask Metafilter about non-specific graces.  It may have been this one, although I’m sure the topic has been addressed on their forums many times.

I like the shorter Buddhist gatha offered by one contributor:

We receive this food in gratitude to all beings
Who have helped to bring it to our table,
And vow to respond in turn to those in need
With wisdom and compassion.

I also like the very simple but very accurate, “For what we are about to receive we are thankful”.

Gretchen (L) and Grace outside the American Indian Museum early this month.

It had been some time since I revisited my desire to show how thankful we are to the earth for continuing to provide our food, to the farmers who grow and harvest it, to our employers who pay us enough to afford it and to our parents who taught us how to cook and enjoy it.  Then my friends Dawn and Chuck visited with their two little girls, pictured at the left during their visit to DC.  Before dinner their youngest, Gretchen, offered grace.  She’s three, so the first part was hard to understand - though it was probably something along the lines of “God is Great, God is Good”.  Instead of ending with the traditional and expected, “Amen”, little Gretchen said:

“Bon Appetit.  Now you may eat … and drink.”

I found it utterly charming and I told Don that if we have a child I want to teach her say that before every meal.  BUT that means that we’ll have to start working the tradition into our own meals.  So, I’m contemplating what our grace should be.

Any thoughts?

Here’s another picture of Grace and Gretchen on their trip to DC.  It’s not really related to this post, but they are so darn cute I couldn’t help it.

Grace (L) and Gretchen with a SCARY lion (thanks, Tom!) at the National Zoo.

So when I left off last, Don was at our chuppah waiting for me and our guests were taking pictures like mad.  Oh, I should mention that Don MADE that chuppah from the bamboo that grows in our backyard. 

<Insert “AWWW” here.>

Yeah, he’s romantic AND handy.

So there he is, waiting for me.  But first we have to seat our moms. 

Penelope enters on Steven’s arm:

(How pretty is she in her purple dress?)

And then comes my mom, Maggie, with Don’s brother Patrick.

(Speaking of pretty … and she looks so happy, too.  See Don?  I told you she likes you.)

And FINALLY it was time for me to meet Don on the beach.  I was giddy and excited and everything a bride should be.  For real.  Look:

I know, right?  My dad looks just as happy as me. 

In fact, he was telling me a cute story around the time this picture was taken.  When I was a little girl I LOVED going to the beach all year long.  No matter how cold it was though, I always wanted to go in the water.  If my parents turned their heads for just one minute, I’d be peeling off my dress and taking off my diaper and headed for the Atlantic.

So my dad was relating this memory and I said, “Don’t worry.  I’m not planning to do that today.”

It turns out, getting married on the beach is intimate.  The aisle is narrow.  The seats are close.  People on the end of the aisle are smiling and touching my arm and whispering to me.

And at the end of the aisle is Don, grinning ear to ear and waiting to become my husband.

The first two pictures were taken by Genie Gratto and Tom Bridge shot the last one.

Next up: We say “I do.”

Don and I have been married five days.  Our wedding was just about as perfect as I hoped.  It was cold - my teeth chattered during the vows.  The weather was damp, but it didn’t actually rain on us.  I didn’t get all the pictures I wanted.  I forgot the flowers for the tin buckets that lined the dune path to the beach.  I lost the seating card for my really good friend and her husband. 

BUT, at the end of the day, I was married to Don. 

And that’s just about as perfect a day as I could ever have had.

If you don’t believe me, take a look at this picture.  Have you ever seen such a look of pure joy on one girl’s face?

This picture was taken by our friend Tom Bridge. 

So if I tell you that Susan thinks the particular wedding ring that I wear is an important choice and I don’t, you’d probably not be at all surprised. Maybe you’d roll your eyes too, or mumble something about typical men, or me in particular.

It’s really not that simple, though, since I actually think her particular wedding ring is important. There’s two parts to that. One, there’s the fact that one of the rings on her finger was passed down through my family. While I never met Gladys, she’s from the side of the family where I did know my grandparents. So it’s a nice connection. It doesn’t hurt that it kept me from putting money into the diamond industry, a racket I find distasteful on a number of levels.

Until we bought the other two rings, of course.

However I’m okay with that too, and it’s the other reason I think her ring is important: it’s important to Susan. She likes the way they look and she’s the only person attached to her finger 24/7.

For my finger, however, the specific ring just isn’t that important to me, and it honestly hadn’t occurred to me that it might matter to her. I had been - surprise - pretty blase about my ring shopping and had looked at some things in the store and online, and when we were looking at one of the more odd rings Susan questioned whether I’d want to wear that forever. I shrugged and said when I tired of it I’d order a new one.

I’ve never kicked a puppy, so I can’t be sure, but I am pretty sure that’s the same look Susan would give me if  I ever did. In her eyes there’s only going to be one ring we use on May 2nd, and if I replace it that’s just not the same.

My ring, to me, is just something I put on my finger. If it had ever been a part of Susan’s life before then that might be different, but what we’re going with is the ring pictured above, mail ordered from Overstock.com. There’s some amusement value for me that it’s tungsten, which has an atomic symbol that happens to be my initial, W, but it’s still just a thing.

Until it’s on my finger. Once it’s there, it’s a symbol of the commitment I’ve made to Susan. It’s a reminder of the life we had before we met, the life we had once we did, and our decision that we liked our life better together. Its a reminder of the day we invited a bunch of people we cared about to watch us make that commitment legal, then celebrate with us immediately afterwards. A reminder of her, and that I’m important to her. If I took that ring off and put a different one on it would have the same meaning for me.

So I’ll do my best to wear the one above, which we’ll use on May 2nd, for as forever as I can manage.

Because how much better a compromise could you ask for than to get everything that matters to me and add on something that matters to her?

Last week I started sporting some new bling on my ring finger.  Yay for bling.

(Maybe I should ask Don to get me some grillz for a wedding gift?).

My engagement ring is a beautiful solitaire that originally belonged to Don’s great grandmother.  It’s a six-prong Tiffany style setting with a transition cut diamond (pre-cursor to the modern brilliant cut). 

I love it.

Well, I love it when it’s sitting by itself on my finger. Trying to find a wedding band to match was so much harder than I expected and I started to suspect that it was in such good shape because Gladys never wore it.   It would explain why we don’t have a single picture of her with the ring on.

I looked for months, but nothing I found worked.  Then a jeweler suggested a solitaire enhancer to wrap around the ring.  We found one with a pave setting which is totally in keeping with 1920s era original ring and I love pave settings anyway.  It was perfect, but I found I still wanted a traditional wedding band (because I figure there are going to be times in the future - like maybe when we’re travelling - that I just don’t want to wear a whole set of rings).  I love the enhancer, but it can’t be worn on its own.

Don agreed that the three pieces together looked the nicest of any other combination.  I was stressed about the money, but Don pointed out that if you calculate the cost per day of having this ring for the rest of my life it was worth the expense. 

I’m so glad he talked me into it because these rings make me crazy happy.  Here’s my solitaire with the enhancer:

Now we’re trying to find a wedding ring for Don.  We decided on the metal tungsten because Don discovered that the symbol for tungsten is W.  We’ve ordered several but haven’t found the right one just yet.  Maybe once we have it, we can talk Don into another guest blog post!