My darling Joe – we’re getting ready to celebrate our seventh(!) Valentine’s day together. Our very first was probably my favorite. I planned our day surprise and you planned our evening surprise. I took us hiking at nearby Crowder’s Mountain, complete with a picnic lunch, and later that evening you took us to a nice dinner, fancy stuff for college students. It was sweet and romantic, and we were made fun of horribly by our fellow young life leaders later on. We attempted to go on a “love hike” (as dubbed by Dru Darby) each year, until we moved too far north for that to be reasonable. But maybe someday, darling, when we’re wrinkled snowbirds, we’ll pick back up on those love hikes like old pros.
Thank you for being my Valentine and my best friend. Thank you a million times over for all of the small things and the big things – for taking Luna out in the middle of the night without complaint, for knowing when to whisk me off to the beach on a whim, for always bringing me ice cream, and for continually encouraging me. I’m so thankful for these seven Valentine’s together, and I cannot wait for seventy more.
I’ve had the same white macbook since I was a freshman in college, and the hard drive space is scarce these days. In my efforts to clean out some unused documents, I came across a note that Joe wrote to me about six months into dating. The note itself was actually pretty long, for my man of few words, and was quite possibly the funniest thing I’ve read all year. The number of “baby’s” and exclamation points nearly had me in tears. I actually snorted out loud. Gosh, to be young and dumb and in love.
And because I aim to please, this is a friendly reminder that I convinced Joe it would be a good idea for us to keep a blog together while we were first engaged and I was in Denmark. You can find that masterpiece here. It’s not too terrible, save for the typos, accidental post in 2012, and all of the waxing poetic. Although, I’m kind of patting myself on the back for that faith statement, because it’s actually pretty solid.
Hope this brings some laughter to your Monday (if not a few eye-rolls).
Twenty-four years ago today, my handsome husband was born (shout out to his super hot mama for bringing him into this world!).
I’ve heard that you really know love when bringing someone else joy makes you happy, and that’s so true here. This whole week has been so much fun with all of the birthday festivities, and I’m positively thrilled to see Joe so loved and celebrated. If showing up was a love language, it would definitely be my biggest one, and it means so much to me to see people show up and really be there for my guy.
And hey, it’s a good week to be Joe! Baked goods through our ears (but really, waking up at 5 AM for homemade cinnamon rolls will always be worth it), duckpin bowling, special camp lunches, all of his favorite meals (plus, order number 1 at Five Guys!), and most of his favorite people.
Some of the many ((crazy)) faces of the birthday fella!
A very special thanks to the folks who love my husband well and are such a great source of friendship and encouragement. You guys rock!
Happy birthday, my darling Joe!
The best laid schemes of mice and men, often go awry.
The weekend before our anniversary, I had planned the perfect day trip to Charlottesville. It involved waking up at 2:15 AM to make the drive, but was followed with a sunrise hot air balloon ride, a farmer’s market, peach cider doughnuts, our favorite local sandwiches, an afternoon at a vineyard, and dinner where we celebrated all of our Charlottesville triumphs. And what should have been an epic day together quickly went downhill when, after three hours of driving before dawn, our hot air balloon ride was cancelled. We mindlessly drove the familiar streets before stumbling towards breakfast and a meltdown at the orchard. We gave ourselves pep talks and salvaged what we could of the day before heading home for take out and an early bedtime, followed later that week with a lovely dinner and walk through Little Italy. All in all, a solid 6 out of 10 for our second anniversary.
What made celebrating our anniversary worthwhile was this – that there is literally no other human being on this earth that I would rather be with, on the joyful evenings and on the slightly miserable mornings. It’s also worth noting that my ideal day in Charlottesville technically doesn’t exist, and that our home really belongs in Baltimore.
So while I may not have the key to a perfect anniversary, I’ve learned that the most joy can be found in loving who you’re with and where you are. ((and that Towson really needs to up their sandwich game, because it’s been over a week and we’re still talking about those sammies from Cville…))