I love this time of year. It finally gets beautiful again in San Diego after our drawn-out Santa Ana heat in the early fall, Christmas music is on the radio and it's even chilly enough to light our fireplace.
Yay!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Anniversary
It's official: as of yesterday, Ned and I have been married for two years. So far, we've been pretty low-key for the event. I like keeping to the traditional "gifts," like paper (year one) and cotton (year two.) Last year, we simply wrote a note to one another, and this year we'll probably do something similar. Cotton's in paper, right? I'd like to think so.
Ned's doesn't really excel at gift giving, so I like to throw him a rope and I try to remember that he excels at other things, like rubbing my feet whenever I stick them in his face, or making me feel better about a trying customer, or even running all of the errands for the day and making dinner when I'm having a long day in the office.
Something he's learned as we've been together is how to be a great nurse when I'm sick... which unfortunately I needed yesterday after a drunky Friday night. We had a friend in from San Francisco and went out for some fun - I just had a little too much and wound up with a nasty hangover on Saturday, our anniversary.
I felt terrible, and even worse about being laid up on our special day - but Ned reminded me once again how sweet and affectionate he can be as he propped me up with pillows, kept my water glass full and hung out with me until I started to feel like a human again.
It was a very nice anniversary present.
Ned's doesn't really excel at gift giving, so I like to throw him a rope and I try to remember that he excels at other things, like rubbing my feet whenever I stick them in his face, or making me feel better about a trying customer, or even running all of the errands for the day and making dinner when I'm having a long day in the office.
Something he's learned as we've been together is how to be a great nurse when I'm sick... which unfortunately I needed yesterday after a drunky Friday night. We had a friend in from San Francisco and went out for some fun - I just had a little too much and wound up with a nasty hangover on Saturday, our anniversary.
I felt terrible, and even worse about being laid up on our special day - but Ned reminded me once again how sweet and affectionate he can be as he propped me up with pillows, kept my water glass full and hung out with me until I started to feel like a human again.
It was a very nice anniversary present.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Zorro is Old
When I was 11 years old, my family adopted a pound puppy. He was stinky and wiggly and very cute. I named him Zorro after watching black and white reruns of the show at midnight on the Disney Channel.
He was everything a good dog should be. He ran around the backyard like a fiend. He did tricks for treats. His never-ending quest for people food drove him to move furniture to access kitchen counters with tempting cupcakes. He had a little boyfriend dog that lived down the street, and if he ever got out, that's where he'd end up.
I'm nearly 28 now and he's still plugging along. I've been to college, a year in Asia, left a few jobs, got married and now have my own company. And he's always been there, ever since the day my mom brought him home from the pound. With his schnauzer face and probably poodle build. His little white feet and his thinning gray hair that was once jet black.
Now my husband and I dog sit when my parents go out of town and he sleeps all day near me, by my computer. I take him to the backyard to do his business and his legs give out from underneath him. He flinches from the sun and looks generally confused.
Zorro is old and it makes me sad.
He was everything a good dog should be. He ran around the backyard like a fiend. He did tricks for treats. His never-ending quest for people food drove him to move furniture to access kitchen counters with tempting cupcakes. He had a little boyfriend dog that lived down the street, and if he ever got out, that's where he'd end up.
I'm nearly 28 now and he's still plugging along. I've been to college, a year in Asia, left a few jobs, got married and now have my own company. And he's always been there, ever since the day my mom brought him home from the pound. With his schnauzer face and probably poodle build. His little white feet and his thinning gray hair that was once jet black.
Now my husband and I dog sit when my parents go out of town and he sleeps all day near me, by my computer. I take him to the backyard to do his business and his legs give out from underneath him. He flinches from the sun and looks generally confused.
Zorro is old and it makes me sad.
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