LOST Season 5 Finale Party

[cue creepy music]

Another season of LOST come and gone. We had a party. Theresa made a blackboard for our kitchen, to cover up the breaker box, and just in time. Else how would we have known what was for food?



I guess we could have just looked at the table, where the feast was spread. This picture was taken about halfway through preparations, so the amount of food and drink doubled from here. There was beer-cheese dip in a bread bowl, taquitos, lime chips, lemon pastries, fruit, more fruit, fruit dip, more fruit dip, flowers (not for eating), veggies, veggie dip, homemade pretzels (Theresa), pretzel dip, and lots of Dharma Beer. Sadly, no pictures of the beer which had cool labels on it.


Oh, and there was a cake. Purple sprinkles gradated the night sky. Brown sprinkles formed the peoples' limbs. Tweezers were involved in the icing of this cake. Theresa may be a culinary genius. At very least she has potential as a cake-decorator. Thanks to Charm City for their inspiration!


And here are the hosts. I swear there were other people there, even though none of them show up in any of these pictures. Odd.

Half Bath Done

For four months, our living room has been graced by two lovely sinks. One, a fine pedestal sink, the other, a granite countertop with rubbed bronze fixtures. This arrangement afforded us two benefits. First, we could give our houseguests false hopes for clean hands. Second, painful aesthetics in the present make for palpable relief upon completion of home projects, or so I've heard, from like everybody.

So we installed tile. Travertine. Now, when I hear "Travertine," my eyes look a little like this: $$ and my mouth looks like this: O. After all, shipping inorganic chemical sedimentary rock from Tivoli ain't cheap. Anyway, long story short, Theresa found a box of Travertine with no price tag at Home Depot, and they sold it to us for the same price as ceramic. Win.

Our friends Dave and Jess did most of the installation, but Theresa paid close attention so she can install tile upstairs. Eventually.



We left the toilet outside on the back porch while we installed the floor. It was out there for nearly four months, which our neighbor thought was very classy, and when we removed the tarp at the end of month 4, the bowl was cracked. Toilet-related word. So we bought a new one that's all environmentaly groovy.

Theresa painted some birds on the back wall, because what is a bathroom without some feathers? She painted all the other walls, too. And helped install the floor. And went to Home Depot like 30 times. And measured for the baseboards, and coordinated with Dave and Jess, and made me help, which is no small task.



I installed the toilet, the sink, the baseboards, and the threshold. I hope nobody ever wants to remove that threshold, because I used enough liquid nails to keep Britney's career from slipping, oh snap.



Denouement.

It looks pretty great, and it's a pretty big relief to have a bathroom downstairs again, cause, um, we're pretty sick of guests using newspaper.

Valentine's Day, 2009

Welcome back.

So it's been almost a year since our last post. So we've been busy. Golly, between reruns of Scrubs and the time it takes to make macaroni and cheese, we've barely got time to sleep and earn a living.

--Fade in--

Valentine's morning. Sleeping. Cell phone on nightstand blinks from 8:59 to 9:00. Eyes open. Bare feet on bamboo floor. Sun peeking past drawn shades. Red curtain. Remembering - Valentine's day. Kiss wife.

Later, ice rink. Stiff leather skates, still warm from previous occupant. Shudder. Slow circles. Lots of people. Little kids with facemasks and rocket-propelled skates. No falls. Zamboni. Just right, like little bear's porrige. Remembering - Valentine's day. Time to eat.

Reading back over the previous two paragraphs, I remember something else. When I was in the monastery in southeast Asia, I vowed never to write anything the might, even loosely, be construed as poetry. Nay, forsooth, and whatnot! Fade out! Blog on!

We went to Whole Foods and bought whole foods and tasted several food parts. Then we went home and cooked and cooked! First, the appetizers... Polenta fritters with gouda inside. How were they? Insert pun here.



Next up, mixed greens with candied walnuts, red-wine-soaked cherries, and a blood orange vinagrette. Who gives a darn about an Oxford comma? Here's Theresa, squeezing blood from an orange.



Here's the whole meal, plated and paired with a lovely Cabernet. Oh yeah, the entree was eggplant parmesean, covered in red sauce and topped with mozzarella and parmigiano and parsely. Not a big deal. OMG so good!!!!!!11one



Finally, dessert - panna cotta with vanilla beans, topped with a fresh blackberry sauce.



Om nom nom nom.



It was the best Valentine's day we've ever had, which I suppose is fitting, since it's been a great year so far. It also helps, I think, that we've recently learned to share a kitchen.

Au Reviere. The redcoats are coming!

EPIC FAIL

I woke up this morning and rolled out of bed.
I yawned and I showered, I dressed and I fed.
I trundled upstairs to log on to the net...
Just wanted to check on my email and get
Up to speed on the news of the day and to see
That I knew what was happ'ning internationally.
At this juncture, I fear, was the first of my clues
That the day would be filled with bemoanin' and blues.
For my trusty old Firefox failed to connect.
So I reset the router, began to inspect
All the cables and cords, and the modem of course -
But all was in order; no flaw to endorse
My impression that something was terribly wrong,
My efforts to remedy didn't take long.
Not as long, in the least, as the time that I spent
On the phone with a customer service accent.
Anyway, in a while I gave up the chase
And went downstairs to T. for a needed embrace.
But then what to my wondering eyes should appear
But my cell phone is pieces, just sitting there
On a towel, and looking a right awful mess.
"It went through the washer" T. sadly confessed.
"Confound it!" I screeched, and other such things,
For inside me frustration'd unfolded its wings
And was now soaring high, and I think mocking me,
For usually I'm gifted, electronically.
So I grouched for a while, and mumbled a bit,
Using four letter words like "darn," "urgh," "jeez," and "pits."
Then I rallied around! A new challenge arose!
I would go to the thrift store and buy some old clothes.
See, the ones that I own are too short in the sleeve,
Cause they're made for one shorter and wider than me.
And the same with my pants - they're for people with thighs,
Not for someone with all of their substance INside.
So - long story short, this adventure failed too.
I found nothing appealing, and left unamused.
Later on, back at home, I thought maybe it'd be
Nice to spend some time browsing in the library.
So I looked up the time that it closed Saturdays,
But my luck in this case matched the rest of today's.
Yep, the libes had already shut down for the night,
Which to me seemed unfair! Yea, it didn't seem right!
Not everyone wants to spend time at the bars,
Breathing second-hand smoke and just passing the hours
Until morning when you wake with an ache in your head
And a taste in your mouth like something is dead.
Yeah, some of us want to spend Saturdays reading!
Anyway, I'll go on just to keep this proceeding...
I was feeling frustrated and hungry to boot,
So we went to get Thai at a place of repute.
We had dined there before and the food was delicious.
But the day was just cursed, and my karma pernicious.
The Pad Thai was yummy... the waitress was cute.
The problem was floating in water - the fruit
That is meant to accent and refresh with its tang.
Yep, a lemon was the final straw of the day.
I squeezed it right into my half-empty glass...
There wasn't a warning - it happened so fast...
Lo, out from the lemon a droplet took flight,
Traversed through the air and encountered my eye.
And the burning I felt was familiar to me -
It summed up quite nicely the moral, the theme:
When a day's disappointments go beyond the pale,
Prepare thyself, grasshopper, for an EPIC FAIL.

And my guitar string broke. And I couldn't find the book I was looking for at either of the two bookstores I went to. And my cell phone is definitely not going to work again. And some of the CDs I imported have static.

And it was a beautiful day. Theresa and I took a walk in the sun and the snow. I watched a mockingbird preen and puff itself up against the cold. I played the banjo. I had Pad Thai. I listened to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong sing Porgy and Bess. I took a bath. I read Neil Gaiman. I ate a lot of chocolate.

March Brunch

In life there are few certainties. In death, there are many, but few people are certain of what they are. The point is, sometimes people have brunch on Saturdays, and this was one of those Saturdays for Theresa and Andrew.

It started out as a plan, a plan with blueberries and bowls of granola, orange juice and melon, insatiable appetites and idle chatter. As it turns out, somebody drank all the orange juice, melons and blueberries have flown south for the winter, granola is just too much of a hassle for Saturday, and chatter can only be idle if it is not usurped by a conversation. And their appetites were quickly sated by the heavy fare.

The menu included: Scrambled eggs with feta, slabs of soysage, and a layered cardamom coffee cake with strawberries. The strawberries cried out valiantly in support of a heart-healthy meal, citing both their antioxidant properties and their kind-of heart shape if they are cut a certain way, and also they are red like hearts are, but then Andrew surrounded them with brown sugar and margarine, white flour and eggs. They quickly gave up the fight and surrendered to their fate - to be the trophy harem of a vicious and unforgiving cake. The eggs just watched this struggle unfold and remained, as always, unflappable. But not unflippable... anyway, that came later.



They ate on the back porch, and had green tea.

The temperature was in the mid sixties. The sky was absorbing a lot more red light than blue, and there was no breeze, so after brunch they spent a few hours in the hammock, reading something funny (Theresa), and something serious, but with a lot of pictures (Andrew).

Tonight, who knows? Bowling was an option, but perhaps instead they will sneak past the guards and fight crime instead (though it can get boring, doing the same thing every night). Or, or... Maybe they'll go Krogering, and sabotage the entire operation by switching the locations of the apples Fiji and the Red Delicious. Ho ho! They've got depths you can't even begin to plumb.

Both of them are mostly over being sick... Andrew had SARS, or possibly just a cough, and Theresa had Ebola, or maybe just a cold. The former were more accurate for things like missing work or school, the latter were more accurate for deciding to go outside after all and play with Hermione in the garden.

Theresa is still student teaching and enjoying it despite the long drive and how it conflicts somewhat with her long-term goals in life. Andrew, by day, is an office assistant, but by night transforms into a world-class somniloquist, his repertoire including mainly movie scripts with the occasional off-Broadway monologue; with impeccable elocution and no facial expression whatsoever. Theresa, in opposition to Andrew's wishes, frequently sells tickets to these presentations on Craigslist, but he forgives her because she lets him have some of the proceedings in order to pay for his haircuts, the costs of which account for nearly 30 grand in credit card debt. A guy's gotta look good, even if his social scene involves dreams mostly.

Spring bides her time, waiting for an opening in winter's double dutch jump ropes. Small colorful vegetations are beginning to appear, blue in the grass, yellow at the end of tulip stems, red in the bushes just to the left of that woodpecker, oh! Tomorrow, a trip to Radnor Lake is in the works, to hike near and around it.

They hope you are enjoying your winter weather, whatever that may mean, and that you have a brunch sometime soon. With love.

The Great After-Holidays Holiday Letter 2007 or 8

Things are pretty much back to normal now. Theresa is working hard as per usual, finishing up her thesis, which she defends tomorrow, and student teaching the day after. She'll be putting in a full work week, plus studies, and won't get paid for it! So that's fun.

Andrew spends a good amount of time thinking about coffee while he's at work. He also is working hard to keep up with the burst of activity coinciding with the start of spring semester. He starts his CS 101 class on Wednesday, wherein he'll learn some Java, which, ironically, is the subject on which this paragraph started.

Want to see what dorks do when they have a pet and access to the internet? Check it out. That's the pet hedgehog you've heard so much about! She spent a lot of time in cold cars and strangers' hands this winter, and she's very glad to have her full-sized cage back and a consistently warm house.

The house, now that you mention it, is warm and entirely in one piece, thanks to thier friendly handyman Mr. George, who put the gutter back on last week. They arrived back home to find it hanging by the telephone wire, as it were, by its toes. No lie. The pine-needle burden had finally broken its spirit and it just broke down.

Where did they get back from? Glad you asked. They spent a couple of weeks driving around and seeing family and friends. Pictures? Ok.



That's their friend and ex-roomie, who maybe they'll live with when they move to Seattle. The other one is a family Theresa lived with when she worked for a few months in Michigan. They saw several others, but have no pictures. It was great to see everyone.

Happy Holidays. Back to work!

On Disappiontment

A great sadness has descended upon them like the slow darkening of the ocean as night falls on creatures of depth.

They were appropriately thankful for their discounted tickets. They were appropriately prepared for their island vacation, with sleeveless shirts and sunscreen, novels and no socks. They went to the airport and boarded the plane! ...To Atlanta! Ok.

From there, they planned to fly to Hawaii, direct. To Honolulu, where they would spend three days with relatives, and then to Hilo, where they would hang with a best-friend until next Tuesday. A glorious vacation it would be!

But alas! Their tickets were standby, their passes were "buddy." Their chances were slim! Their luck was amok! They made it to L.A., and waited for days! They nighted in hotels! High prices were paid! They were held fast by grim disappointment, again and again as it crush-ed them down.

Excuses were made by the airlines, in numbers.
Their hopes, oh! their hopes! They were dashed all asunder.
With "fuel optimized" and "perishables stowed,"
The airplanes took off, and passengers be blowed!
Empty seats? Yeah, who cares! Cargo sells! To the air!

And we wept, yea, we wept.
Of tears there were many.
And of hard cash on hand, we had none but a penny.
It was time to give up. It was time to go home.
So we flew back to Cinci', and drove to Dayton.

There we spent the remainder of our hard-earned time
(The rate it accrues is naught but a crime!)
And we saw our relations, and an elephant too
(We went to a circus, not to a zoo).
It was nice, which was nice, but it wasn't Hawaii.
Even now, we remember what weren't, and we cry.

And now here we are again, here in Ville Nash.
We've slept in our bed and we've broken our fast.
What have we to show for the grand that we dropped?
This postcard of LAX airport - it's tops!

Pond Fish Plants Fountain

As many very important historians have said: "The pond we made in our backyard is complete." There are four fish in it. Ken-Ichi, Sumo, Akira Kurosawa, and Sake.

Want to hear a sad story? We were looking for a fish to name Sake. We were looking for one that swam a little drunkenly. There it was, swimming sideways, upside-down, in circles, making Andrew laugh. It was clearly drunk, or "differently abled." Either way, it fit the name. Then the salesman told us that it was dying of a rare and horrible disease, and he stuck his paws in the tank and grabbed it. He dropped it into a bucket, and it stopped swimming drunkenly. It stopped... swimming... *sob*. I'm sorry! I just... *breaks down*

So! Then we picked up a few other fish. Two are Koi, two are Comets. Two are orange and white, two are yellow and black and white. We tried to take pictures of them, but they are all ninjas and were impossible to find once we put them into the pond. Then a squirrel ventured near the water, and it suddenly toppled into the water with a splash. It was dead, and Ken-Ichi killed it with a sword.

Here are some pictures we did take:



Ken-Ichi is on the right. Sake is on the left (The second Sake, not the first one, who is dead now.) Ken-Ichi is a killer, you can see it in his eyes.



Und here is our pond. Andrew made the fountain out of some junk he found around the house. Jesus made the plantalia. Neptune controls the waves.

Blip blip?

The Rubix Cube Party

It was a couple of weeks ago, but there's been enough procrastination. The next party is tonight, so the blog must go on.

The Rubix Cube party concept is simple. Everyone dresses in all six colors of the Rubix cube. By the end of the party, everyone must try to be dressed in just one color, by trading articles of clothing with other partygoers. So they started out:



Was it mentioned that this was an 80's Rubix Cube Party? Well it was. And Maggie and Evan came too:



Andrew is sad that he missed being a fashion-conscious person the 80's. *sniffle* He does remember seeing French cuffs in the house growing up, however. And memorizing the lyrics of Ice, Ice, Baby. And an odd leg-warmer or two. STOP. Collaborate and listen.

Things went well. It was at least a four-way tie. Shorry about the mesh.



There were other people at the party, too. They're just not pictured. Well, here, here's a picture of them:



Piper Perabo is just an acquaintance.

Tonight? The Olympic party. Also? They're putting fish and plants in their pond, and then they'll post about that too. Thanks for playing!

Gimme More

Oh by the way... Andrew dropped out of school last week. Two weeks ago? Recently. Nursing, it seems, was indeed right up his alley, but as chance would have it "his alley" was, due to some unfortunate error by the United States Postal Service, not, in fact, his alley after all. Turns out he lives somewhere rather closer to his current location. That sounds too simple, actually. His heart just wasn't in it.

So what, everyone asks him, are you planning on doing now?

Well, before he answers, he would like to remind the reader that this question arises not from the depths of your soul where tricky concepts like "truth" and "passion" lie, but comes instead from the relentless ad-driven multinational consumerist terrorist nine-to-five power suit world we live in. So get off your high horse and get in touch, dude, because Andrew has decided to be a professional hippie. He already owned a pair of Birkenstock sandals and has been seen on multiple occasions in a sarong.

So, as a professional racecar driver, what can friends and family be expecting from Andrew in the next few years? Medals a'plenty. Drinking milk. Flame-retardant fashions. And if the astronaut thing doesn't work out, he'll land among the stars. There are only four hackers in the world who can get into myspace and steal ur background, and he is one of them. He and his manager have already set up a seven-state tour of to-the-death duels, and his opponent gets to choose the weapon each time. If not him or Raffi, who will save the baby belugas?! In the deep blue sea?!

In conclusion, he will be spending his mornings writing stories, because that's something he enjoys and has always dreamed of doing. He'll be happy to autograph any copies of any books he manages to get published, but suggests that time spent counting chickens might be better spent sending good vibes his way, cause those eggs have only just been laid.

Our Anniversary Weekend (Theresa's Version)

A year ago today, we were having our ceremony at Aullwood with our friends and family. When asked what we should do for our first anniversary, Andrew said it should be ... memorable. Mission accomplished!

Evan, Andrew, and I prepped for the festival earlier in the week where we constructed our costumes, beautified our tomatoes, and sketched our sidewalk drawings. On Friday, Andrew and I were dressed and almost identical to some good looking tomatoes. Turns out Andrew's witty humor and lovely stage presence (and endearing shyness) won him the scepter. Meanwhile, Evan and I cannot stop laughing and cheering for our new king. The prize for winning was not quite ideal for Andrew, but incredibly humorous to the two of us! Turns out he did lead the parade like a champ while Evan and I finished our chalk drawings in the sweltering heat. The sweat however, did make the chalk easier to smear with to create lifelike shadows and artistic flair. While Andrew was weaving his way through town with Queen deliciousness, Evan and I were receiving our prizes for tieing the contest for Best of show sidewalk drawing! We followed this draining event with some refreshing....hot tomato soup. Okay, not so refreshing but definitely delicious.


Back to deliciousness, Andrew and the crowned queen lead the red and green stemmed crowd regally through the streets of East Nashville. They were hard to miss in their plump, juicy costumes and many following subjects. I rather enjoyed not being the crowned the queen, because when people would ask Andrew if I was the queen, he would say..."She's my queen." (I know, groans and rolling eyes at the cuteness.) So despite lack of scepter, I felt loved. (Though knighting people looked pretty darn fun when Andrew did it...) The day was filled with many tomato adventures; a truly celebratory event of the food that was dubbed as a "uniter, not a divider," rallying both fruits and veggies alike. We sampled heirloom tomatoes (remember...those tomatoes that used to grow in gardens that tasted lovely and unique and were strangely shaped and were a myriad of color?) and discussed that sadness of the common grocery store tomato (does it deserve this lovely title of "tomato" even?) . We cheered Evan on in the faux red head contest (which she won by a landslide but apparently the judge had a pea stuck in his ear), ate delicious Not-dogs (tofu hot dogs) at the I dream of Weenie stand, and perused some beaut-e-full art in the gallery that all centered around Grapes. Ha! Fooled you. It was art about tomatoes.


Then as you can see in photos, I surprisingly won, the Most beautiful tomato contest. Evan's was truly the most beautiful, but apparently they were going for the underdog or some specific look that my tomato radiated. ( I also have a suspicion that it was half chosen for the oh-so-appropriate name of "Little Miss Sunshine" for sitting upon a sunflower and other various flowers.)

We left the festival exhausted and craving...crackers. So we stopped at a gas station on our way to the surprise destination (surprise for Andrew, planned by moi). Hummingbirds greeted us, since the hippie-esque persons at the farm resemble most free spirits in their lack of organization or remembrance of details like....oh meet people who have reservations at the front gate. I drove around a maze of gravel roads, talked to multiple individuals asking about how to check into the inn. Here are a few of those short conversations.

Theresa: Hi, I have reservations at the Inn.
Woman #1: The inn? Oh, well then you should go to the Inn.
Theresa: (thoughts to self-riiiiight. Brilliant). OK, so where is the Inn.
Woman #1: Take the road down a ways and then turn left after the mushroom painted silo.


Theresa: Hi, is this the Inn?
Woman #2: The Inn? Oh, is that what they used to call this place? The paradise Inn? (meanwhile she is in a bathing suit drink in hand).
Theresa: I rented a room at the Inn for the night.
Woman #2: Oh the Ecovillage! That's down the road over there.


Theresa (rolling my eyes profusely at this point): Hi, My name is Theresa. I have a reservation for tonight.
Woman #3: Oh....you do? What is your name?
Theresa: Theresa.
Woman #3: OK, well you can pull up and drop your things off.
Theresa: Okay, well first I need to go get my husband because he is at the waiting center waiting in case someone came to meet us and drive us to the Inn (loud ahem cough at this point).
Woman #3: Oh okay.

So I went back to pick up Andrew who was busying himself taking pictures of the hummingbirds. The Farm turned out to be lovely and was disorganized and slightly random, but a incredibly friendly and relaxing place. We had a energizing breakfast with grits, fruits, cereals, vegan muffins and other sorts of fun foods.


As I was walking away from the kitchen counter to sit down, the 6 year old girl asked me..."Do you want some nutritional yeast for your grits?" I had to laugh at this...since normally nutritional yeast is not in the vocabulary of many six year olds. She also later got out a jar of...454 super foods (slight exaggeration) and just spooned it down. It was an Indian snack she told me. ( I don't even remember the name actually!) Her brother (who is 3 and 1/4 he told me) asked if I wanted kelp flakes for my breakfast. A first, even for me. Naturally it was all delicious and I loved that the kids form of entertainment and toys was a pair of tap shoes, a huge garden, and many many small places to hide in the farm house. We played hide and seek with the kids and the girl, I kid you not, popped out from under a chair that had 2 inches of space. Andrew and i just stared at her wide eyed; amazing! Possibly the best hider ever.


After chasing tadpoles and drying off in 2.5 seconds in the Sun, we drove home on a lovely parkway. Exhausted, we are curled up in bed, just having finished watching an episode of "Get Smart." This was Andrew's gift to me: 5 seasons of my childhood favorite TV show. It makes me laugh.

As does this weekend when I sit down and think about it. We will be eating tomato related products and making tomato related jokes for months to come.

Yes, it was memorable!

Our Anniversary Weekend (Andrew's Version)

We started things off Friday night at the Lipstick Lounge, with the East Nashville 2007 Tomato King and Queen Pageant, in preparation for the East Nashville 2007 Tomato Festival on Saturday. Theresa and Andrew both competed in the pageant, answering tomato-related questions, showing off their tomato-related agility, and being generally well-dressed. Theresa had some stiff competition, and was not chosen as queen, but Andrew only had a couple of people run against him as King and he won! That's right, Andrew is the 2007 East Nashville Tomato King. All hail, as they say. And they did say that, a lot. He also won some tomato-related foodstuffs and a $50 gift certificate to the Lipstick Lounge, with which he, Theresa, and Evan celebrated the victory.

And then? The next morning the Tomato Festival was in full swing. Andrew and the Tomato Queen (Captain Deliciousness) were the Grand Marshalls of the Tomato parade, and sweated profusely in the 100-degree heat. When the parade was over, there were interviews, knightings, and other magestic things to take care of. Theresa and Andrew hung out for a while and visited the booths at the festival.

Theresa won grand prize at two different competitions! First was the sidewalk chalk-art competition. Second, she won the beautiful tomato competition. They went home with gift certificates galore, a crown, a sceptre, and lots of tomato products, including soap and postcards. By the time they left late Saturday afternoon, they were overwhelmed by the whole thing. But the day was far from over!

Next, they drove two hours to Summerville, TN, to visit "The Farm," which Jerry, their old landlord, had told them about when they lived in Columbus, OH. It was a lot like the Homestead, where Andrew lived during his Senior year at Denison. Very organic, peaceful, communal, and friendly. They arrived, had a brief introduction to the site, and then ate some sandwiches and went to bed, exhausted.

Sunday morning (their first wedding anniversary), they woke up and had a true Farm breakfast with some of the residents. Andrew had a conversation with a three-year-old child of the earth which went like this:

Boy: I like to eat burgers. Do you like to eat burgers?
Andrew: Sure! I love burgers!
(the boy looks confused, like Andrew's answer was unexpected)
Boy: I like to eat burgers from my nose.
Andrew: Oh.

Yummy. So Theresa and Andrew played hide-and-seek with the kids, walked around The Farm for a while or two, and then had a picnic lunch and went swimming in the swimming hole. The lifeguard warned them about snapping turtles and snakes that might be in the water, so they stayed mostly in the shallow end, harassing the tadpoles and water bugs. Finally it was time to go home, and they, sunburned, exhausted, and happy, started to drive.

Want some pictures? Sure you do!

The East Nashville 2007 Tomato Festival

Visiting The Farm on our Anniversary

Garage Sales, Flower Gardens, and Kiddie Pools: All in a day's work.

Actually just one each of those last two. What a syntactically irresponsible title!

Saturday morning, and no work to do for either of us.

07:00.
Alarm: beep beep beep!
Theresa: (already out of bed, teeth brushed, dressed, hair did, garden watered, breakfast baked, hedgehog walked, and garage sale navigation paraphenalia in hand) ANDREW! (whispered:) andrew!
Andrew: Mrrnfrnm.
Theresa: Andrew! Garage sales!
Andrew (more insistently): MRRNFRNM!
Theresa: I don't understand how you aren't excited! This was your idea! Granted, you thought of it at an afternoon hour and this is anything but, but all the good stuff will be gone if we don't get out there and buy, buy, buy!
Andrew (underneath his pillow, muffled): Mrrnfrnm.
Theresa (threateningly): I'll give you twenty minutes.
* footsteps leaving the room*
07:03
Theresa: Andrew! Rise and shine, love of mine! It's been twenty minutes!
Andrew (none the wiser): *swears* Fine.
Theresa: There are scones on the table! Grab your vitamins and let's go!

So we went. And we kept going. Here are the treasures we found. And paid for. With money. Unlike most treasure, which is just taken. Ok.
- pasta maker with three attachments - portable bicycle pump - amos lee cd - damien rice cd - belle and sebastian cd - laptop stand - pants - shirts - shirt of silk - photo board - dirty postcards - mini tripod - birkies - full scale replica of venetian ironworks from 15th century - speedo goggles (which will make an appearance later in this post) - tarps of various sizes - shorts - hair wrap - saran wrap - gangsta rap -

Lunch was at the fantastic East Nashville "I Dream of Weenie" Hot Dog Stand. Veggie type, of course. Hers, a pimento cheese not-dog, his, a classic not-dog with 'tard 'tsup and 'lish.

At this point, it should be noted, the heat index had come off the charts. Theresa was sweating buckets. Andrew was IN a bucket, having been melted. Drip.

Next stop, the Franklin Farmer's Market, where Theresa's kitten allergy stood firmly in the way of Andrew's love for all things kitten. Just picture it mewling piteously, and then picture Andrew not being able to hold it because he has to keep offering Theresa handkerchiefs, though, in her defense, between sniffles she did say that maybe her allergies had gotten less severe and we could give it a try. Yeah. So we bought chocolate milk and vegetables instead.

Then we went to Target, Theresa wearing speedos (goggles) and Andrew not wearing anything at all. Wait, no, he had shorts on. And a shirt, he had a shirt. And muklucks. Why did we go to Target? Can't remember. Well, why not? Everybody needs practice. Get it? Target? ... Oh well.

Then we went to the thrift store, where, as per usual, Theresa spent several hours finding wonderful things and Andrew, after a cursory glance at their selection of men's polyester pants from the 60's, waited in the car in the boiling heat, cursing 50% off Saturday and wishing he could remember how to get the windows down. They did both succeed in finding costume material for the Tomato Festival / King and Queen Tomato Pageant this weekend. Stay tuned for that episode!

Then Theresa worked on the flower garden while Andrew procrastinated heartily, leaving Theresa smudged with mud and Andrew cool as a cucumber in the air-conditioned house. Fair's fair. Eventually he helped her dig three holes, and they both stood back and admired the handiwork.

And then it was pool time, to reward Theresa's hard work and Andrew's, uh... yes! No running by the pool! Watch out for alligators! Gloves off and goggles on! Picture time!

We Also Bought a Kiddie Pool, It's On Our Patio

Ah, July. It's hot in Nashville. Today we went to see Ratatouille (yeah, I didn't have to look up the spelling, either) and, inspired by the movie, we made some delicious manicotti with mushroom sauce.







The stairs were finally completed this week. They'd been half-done for almost a month, since the first contractors we hired skipped out without finishing because they didn't know what they were doing and we called them on it. Hmph.

Also, the last peice of bamboo flooring has been laid, and all that remains of floor-related projects is some trim around the fireplace and a couple of gaps that need to be filled. All the big stuff is out of the way though. What a relief!



Theresa took some time (I don't know where she found it) to paint the art room. It's periwinkle now, and looks brand new. It had white walls before, and by "white" I mean "used to be white until the previous owner smoked cigarettes in the room for five years." So it's quite well improved, and probably her favorite room in the house. Mine, of course, is the downstairs closet, where I play "Harry Potter."





Speaking of H.P., Theresa and I went to the movie last week, and yesterday we read book seven! It's sad that the series is over, but we own all the books and most of the movies, so we can go back anytime we want.

We got a fish, a betta. We named her Bellatrix. Go figure. Below, you can see pictures of the fish and also of Theresa's Harry Potter tattoo. Sometimes people are intimidated by our coolness, but you don't have to be! We put our pants on one leg at a time, just like everybody else. If we're even wearing pants. Which I'm not. It's hot in Nashville.

Building a Flowerbed

Before:
The previous occupant left us with a bunch of gravel... He had a little grill set up on the patio, but we want NATURE, by gollum.



During:
(No pictures of Thersa because she's the one who takes the pictures.)
I know the "during" section is only one photo long, but it took longer than that!
That's a Lantana tree in the foreground. It'll attract butterflies.



After:
In the foreground is our lime tree (!). Sage is in the middle, the Lantana tree in the back. There's another "after" photo in the previous post, shot from our deck.



Theresa loves the lime tree! So does Andrew. It smells of limes!



And, finally, a little post-hard-work refreshment, with accompaniment by (you guessed it) the lime tree:

Another Welcome

A counter welcome from the other of the pair. In addition to Andrew's welcome, I'd like to say hi. I hope you like our blog. This is the 8th blog we have created (1st joint effort though). The longest lasting blog was 2 months. So enjoy this while it lasts. Who knows. Perhaps this will be the enchanting blog to keep us both captivated and interested. Like our partnership :)

In truth, the real reason we are starting this blog is because of a conversation we had yesterday.


Andrew: Woot.
Theresa: Our flower bed is hot.
Andrew: Man, our flower bed is hot.
Theresa: Look at that soil conditioner. It makes it look incredible.
Andrew: It's so hot.
Theresa: I can't believe how beautiful it is. It's hot.
Andrew: Hotness.
Theresa: Double hotness.
Andrew: Dang.
Theresa: Dang.

We really just want to show off our pride of our newly dug, tilled, designed, and planted flower bed in our backyard. After 5 minutes of telling each other how hot it looked, we thought that this is what friends and family are for...to listen to us talk about things we do that we want to share. And, plus both of us have pockets of spare time that just sits around twiddling its thumbs; but no more!

So welcome to the adventures of our partnership!

Compulsory "Welcome" Post

Oh, hello! Welcome to this chronologue of our hum-drum lives! We'll update it every day, pinky swears, and post plenty of graphic photos I mean graphics/photos for you to enjoy.

What? You need some background? Well, Theresa and Andrew met on a pumpkin-picking expedition in 2004, after living on opposite ends of the same hallway for nigh six months. Then followed a whirlwind romance and several cleverly-penned late-night notes, the content of which was invariably along the lines of: "hei, wut u doin' i iz chillin' wll see you l8rz ok bie w00t!" Naturally, they were united in matrimony on 12 August, 2006.

Since then, they've fought off swarms of ants, built a henge (of books, not stone), eaten homie meals and fine cuisine, argued (but only once, on a Wednesday), and bought a house which is one of a set of twins, which they have lovingly dubbed "Bitsy." They've spent a lot of time and energy remodeling (see the photo link), and they are both currently attending school and working as well.

That's all for now! If you have any questions, we'll let you know. Ok bie w00t!