No explanation. Just a moment captured.
Today, David and I have been married for 730 days (2 years). So much has happened in that time and I am so grateful to have met, fallen in love, and committed to this amazing man. He is my best friend, truest confidant, and love.
Here is a link to our photographer’s blog that day (includes a cute little slideshow): Lanierstar
It is so hard to believe that two years ago was our wedding weekend! After a year of ceaseless planning, imagining, and booking, we spent the Friday before our Memorial Day wedding weekend, relaxing poolside at the Hammock Beach Resort. I vividly remember how warm that weekend was. The sun was such a welcome after a winter in Boston. Splashing in the pool together with friends and family was the best way to decompress, breathe, and truly take in the moment. People always say to relax on your wedding day, to let the professionals do their job, and to just enjoy yourself. Yet, this seems so impossible when the jitters of the year of planning and expectation radiate through your muscles and bones. We had never planned an event like this before, let alone a destination event.
Everything was perfect (at least to us). In the end, from soup to nuts, David and I saw only the perfection of that weekend. Yes, I am sure there were mistakes or faux pas made over that weekend, but I am going to be sappy and say we did not see any of them. All we saw was each other and the commitment we were making to one another. We were surrounded by constant love from our friends and families and our own love for one another was enveloping. Sometimes, I wish we could go back to that weekend not because I want to sap up all of the attention but because it was just so magical. We woke at 4AM on our wedding morning because we were just too excited for the events ahead to sleep. We ordered breakfast in bed and just laughed and danced around the hotel room until it was time to go off and get ready. Before we said goodbye, until the ceremony, we took a walk on the beach together. It was so early that we were the only two on the beach as the sun was rising. Along the way, we gathered some seashells to bring home with us, talked about our future, and were just plain silly running and leaping in the waves. We were married at 5PM on Sunday, May 29, 2011. And this thing that David and I have has just gotten better with each year….
A weed is defined as “a plant that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth.” In the morning, I stumble out into the backyard with Buster and Bella and face the enemy. The weeds are “vigorously” growing, taking over, and turning our yard into a jungle. Pretty soon, I will need a machete to help me blaze a path through the tangle of dandelions, clover, crab grass, and juniper branches that are overspreading the area. I have nightmares of the weeds crawling their slow plant pace from infiltrating the garden beds up to grabbing hold of the house siding and reclaiming it as part of their nature. I swear when I go out in the morning the weeds are no higher than my ankle but, when I return in the evening, those weeds having basked in the sunny glory of the day are thigh high. We try to yank them out by their roots which they have burrowed through the earth’s crust. Successful removal of one, only leaves a momentary gap for two others to fill with their invading strength. Spring as just begun and already I feel like a tired warrior. The task is daunting and discouraging. Chemical weapons in war are a crime. Do I violate David’s code of lawn care ethics and release a spray of herbicides to deforest the jungle? I know the weeds are waiting for us to make our decision. There will be no peaceful co-existence. New to the neighborhood, the pressure of “not being those neighbors” is high. Are we to be doomed to the category of neighbors who do not “care” about their property? Yet, we do care…we care immensely. But, those weeds are stubborn, resistent, and resilient. Hours of labor one day are engulfed by new Taraxacum officinale and our dent is gone. The battle rages on…
What do you do when you are snowed in and have a little hill in your backyard?
You go sledding of course!
We did not have a sled, so we had to improvise. Our sled for the day was our television’s cardboard box. David went first and blazed the path and I was soon to follow. We ran and jumped down the hill dozens of time. It was a hilarious work-out. At one point, our neighbor opened the window, and leaned out laughing hysterically at the two of us “sledding” in the yard. My legs hurt from climbing up the hill in the 30 inches of snow and my sides hurt from laughing by the time we finally made it indoors, shed our layers, and warmed up over hot cocoa.
One year is approaching….on April 27, 2013 it will be one year since David and I moved into our first home. Yes, April is still far away as we freeze in the chilly air of February, but it is not THAT far away.
The best decision I ever made was marrying my best friend. The best decision we made was buying our home together. Even the puppies can agree as they romp around from the upstairs down and back up again that this new home is perfect. When we squeezed into our tiny apartment, we were convinced that we utilized our space well and needed not an additional square foot. While this was true at the time, we look around the new home and realize we were justifying that little gnome apartment (and perhaps I am merely justifying my new home right now….but then again that’s what we do about most of our big life decisions. We justify them). We seem to fit better within the walls of the new home. There is space to retreat into our selves, space to cuddle, space to run, space to dance, space to entertain, and space to “settle down.”
Funny thing though about buying a home, at least for me, is now I am shy about decorating. In the apartment, I slapped anything and everything up on the walls and covered every nook and cranny with “stuff.” It was cozy and easy and because everything felt so temporary in that apartment, if in the end we decided to make changes it was not a big deal. We would just tack up another nail, move something from this side to that and be done with it. Not in our new house though. In our house, every decision is painstaking. Since the home was brand new when we purchased it in April, any hole is a hole WE MADE. AH! The pressure of making holes in the wall has paralyzed my home decorating. In the the ten months since moving in, we have hung up four things. That’s it, four! When the time came to make a hole in the wall to hang up those four things, David treated it like a complex math equation. We measured, taped, measured again to make sure the print would be exactly where we wanted it. Finally, we would take a deep breath, bang the nail into place, and sigh as the print hung perfectly on the wall.
As a result of this slow process, our friends call our home a “dystopia.” The blank walls that remain stare out at them while they visit. Yes, we have furniture and yes there are windows to break up the space, but the space is present. It has become our third roommate. Hours are spent on pinterest picking new pieces of furniture to one day purchase when we hit the jackpot (or save a little), flipping through catalogs, and stalking etsy, all in an attempt to reduce the space. If this process has taught me anything it is a much needed lesson on patience.
I know that none of the holes would be permanent and that anything we decide to buy or hang can be adjusted, reframed, or refinished. But, for some reason now that we own this home, our pride in it and our love of it, has given great weight to these decisions and has finally slowed us down. We dated in a hurry, moved in together in a hurry, married in a hurry, and bought our house in a hurry. I know I would hurry into having a baby right now, if I could only pick out the perfect bedroom set, the perfect office desk, and the perfect paint colors. So until then, we will wait a little bit on the baby, wait a little bit on the furniture, and just enjoy our home a little bit longer as it is and enjoy each other a little bit longer just as us two. Things will change quickly before we know it. This time…an empty house…will be fleeting.