Ahhhh

I just made it back home after an incredibly fun weekend. The kind of weekend that is full of hugs, tears, and new memories.

Congratulations little sister and new brother-in-law. May this the be beginning of a blessed union.

And to my family, you are the best. We sure know how to have a good time! I love you and miss you already.

Picking the Date

“That’s an expensive time to travel.”

“The fog. Its always foggy that time of year.”

“Oh, that’s right around my birthday.”

These are all answers to the question I never asked: What do you think of my wedding date? You asked me when it was, I answered. The exchange should have ended there, unless you wanted to add something about how you were so excited for me.

Compared to picking a place to get married, picking the date has been a migraine. To pick the place where we exchange vows and party the night away was exhausting, but it remained a decision made between my sweetheart and myself. We listed addresses of places to visit (12 of them in 2 different areas) and made a weekend out of it. Sure there was some stress when we started talking about costs and details of each, but ultimately we found a place that looked like fun and felt right. Done.

Everyone has an opinion about when it should happen. I take that back. Everybody has an opinion about when it shouldn’t happen. It’s my day. Well, mine and my sweetheart’s day. We choose this day because it works for us (mostly me).

My father helped me see the light through all the frustrating pressure to pick a date that stressed me out, and almost had me eloping, by explaining, “There is never a good time to get married. Just pick a date and we will be there.” Thank you.

Am I wearing my bridezilla veil yet?

Snakes on a Hike

Dedicated to my brave beau.

Being fortunate enough to live in an area where we can frequently be one with nature, we often come across families of deer, gliding hawks, millions of little lizards, and the scat of wildcats during our hikes.

Just recently, when we were casually hiking along in the warm sun, we walked right up on a big ol’ rattler. NO kidding, my beau practically stepped right on the snake before he stepped back to avoid the rattling tale and hissing noise coming right from the center of the path. Apparently the rattlesnake was casually warming himself in the sun too. My heart rate monitor recorded my heart going from 96 to high 126 bmp in a matter of seconds…not that I needed the monitor to tell me my heart was thumping. I could hear it!

My beau stood between the snake and I as it slowly slithered and rattled its way off to the side and under the brush. The rest of the hike we were both a bit more on edge when we heard the wind running through the grass, or a lizard scrambling by.

Perhaps the best indication (and my favorite) of how being startled by a rattlesnake effected our mindset, was how my beau continued to daydream about other encounters with dangerous animals. About half-way through our hike, he turned around to me and admitted, “I just had this daydream where a mountain lion came up on us from the woods, growling and pacing. You got scared and started to run away (which you are not supposed to do) and the lion chased after you. I ran up behind him and jumped on him to hold him back. I tried to pin him while he thrashed his claws around. When I got on top of him he kept scratching at me with his paws until he gradually scratched his way through my chest with his big paws. And that was it.”

I hope we never see a mountain lion. Ever.

Sunday Nights

Of course I love the weekends. Turning up the volume on the radio as you drive from work to a possible Happy Hour on Friday. Sleeping in on Saturday morning with a whole day ahead of anything you want planned. Could be shopping, hiking, or meeting up with friends. You have the nights to watch movies, go out to eat, drink and be merry. When Sunday hits, you relax. This could be while shopping, hiking, or meeting up with friends again, or instead laying around with a cup of coffee and the newspaper.

But then comes Sunday night. It felt so far away on Friday when you threw aside your workbag. As the sun starts to set, this feeling creeps in and reminds you of all the chores you put off during the week to complete when you had all this time during the weekend; like vacuum the floor, 8 loads of laundry, pay the bills, buy the groceries.

I sit here on the couch tonight feeling content with my particularly lively weekend of driving to the beach, biking in the hills, exploring possible wedding locations, eating tasty food, and even sneaking in a load of laundry. And, as I contemplate if my clothes are ironed for tomorrow, or if my lessons are ready to teach, I realize…Its Monday night. Bless the three-day weekend. They should all be this long…. even if the anxiety creeps in just the same on Monday as it does on Sunday.