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!