730 days of marital bliss

May 3 is my favorite holiday. Our anniversary.

I love our anniversary because it's a private holiday. Unlike a birthday, very few people actually remember your anniversary, but there's that special little feeling...a glow you wear around all day--just like it's your birthday. It's special.

And because our anniversary comes just after the end of tax season, it's been our tradition (can you call something a tradition if you've done it only twice?) to lie low...to plant our garden and tidy up the yard...to splurge on a farm-fresh locavore dinner out in wine country.

And we like keeping up with the traditional wedding gifts.Two whole years of marriage is commemorated with gifts of the cotton variety. I got Taylor a new set of cotton sheets for our bed, with our monogram in our wedding colors. Taylor laid out new cotton beach towels (extra long!) and sunscreen for our upcoming summer of paddleboarding and outdoor adventures. His presentation was on point.

It's hard to believe we said "I do" two years ago. There are details of the day I can recall like yesterday, but then there are other moments that are already slipping away into the depths of my memory. We've already packed a lot of experiences into our marriage.

Not every day is a honeymoon, of course. I can say with certainty I know I am a difficult person. And Taylor is quite a saint for putting up with me and loving me unconditionally. I am so thankful for Taylor's patience and compassion. His threshold and tolerance for my moments of near-insanity is uncanny. Our minds work differently--his more analytical, while mine more creative, but we tend to complement and balance each other out. Taylor is really good at pushing me beyond my level of comfort when we're out exploring. We climb a little higher, run a little farther, and always take the scenic route. We're *always* in agreement when it comes to "the experience," and have no qualms about prioritizing and paying for the things that will make us memories versus material things.

Finally got that wedding album made...and a special foodie treat from my mom.

Nice presentation, T.B.

Our new favorite winery: Vista Hills--where they jam to records on the record player.

Of course we brought man's BFF along...

This guy's always wanted to take me to the rooftop bar in his college town, so we sipped margarita above the town of McMinneville.

We actually ended up at Nick's Italian, a well-regarded resto in Mac-town...crab lasagna and this beast of a pizza. Not too shabby.

And finally, some recently uncovered wedding photos of Hazel and Leo.

Until next year...

Making summer dreams come true

I've been pretty blog-less this summer and for good reason. We've been soaking up every second of this sunshine, and the fact that it's creeping into late August is just depressing.

There's plenty to recap with photos and blog posts once the weather turns gray again:
- Annual Pac Crest half-marathon and Sunriver weekend with the Lagreids
- Celebrating America's independence
- Our off-the-grid Montana road trip--I wrote every single day and plan to post those musings on this here blog
- Welcoming the McFarlings from Austin for a week of Portland and Sunriver splendor
- A new baby joins the Benz family (August Jay) and another is almost here (baby girl, name TBA)
- Dogger Bethell makes its (his/her we're still not sure) appearance ... and will be arriving at our doorstep in just a few more weeks

And then there's that list of summer to-dos we've been busy just a-doin':
- Stand-up paddleboarding almost every day...until our feet get numb
- Outdoor concerts
- Barbecues
- Camping
- Spontaneous visits from friends
- Cooking and baking from nature's bounty

Before the summer started, Taylor and I had a couple of simple goals for the season. We wanted to be on the lake as much as possible and to make salsa from ingredients out of our garden. I'm happy to report--as of last night--both of those goals have been achieved. Years from now, we're going to look back on the summer of 2014 as one of the most special. I just know it.  

Salsa 2014! Full disclosure: Tomatoes and jalapenos from our garden. Onions and garlic from my mom's garden. Cilantro from the store (ours came and went earlier this summer). Note: Taylor really didn't want me to take a pic of this, so I publicly apologize for that, Taylor. 

1 year down; a lifetime to go

I promised myself I'd post about our anniversary before I couldn't say it happened "last month" anymore. I'm really pushing it, writing this June 30.

But summer's been too uncharacteristically non-Portland drizzle so far, and we've been soaking in every moment, holding our collective breath that it won't rain tomorrow. We've been pretty darn lucky, and we hope that streak will continue through mid-October.

I haven't spent too many evenings at the computer now that I've got the hang of my not-so-new-anymore job. I did have a couple of late nights of freelance work, but those kind of make me feel alive in a way..pushing my limits and working until I fall asleep, or during the wee morning hours when no one, not even the cat, is rustling around the house.

And this post has taken a turn away from why I sat down to write.

Taylor and I celebrated one whopping year of marriage May 3, 2014. How the pages of the calendar turned so fast during those twelve months, I'll never really know, but from what I hear about the future, time just keeps speeding itself up.

Since we married on a Friday night, Saturday was all ours this year, and we decided we would create a day of favorites, and let our passions be our guide. We planned a trip to my favorite city of Austin the following week, coinciding with a work trip for Taylor (score!), so we didn't want to leave town on our big day. In fact, we really and truly didn't want to leave our house. Although we moved in in late-January, with Tax Season and some intermittent travel, we hadn't spent a whole ton of time together in our home.

I took a deep breath the moment I awoke, and I felt that special warm feeling in my belly that accompanies a birthday or Christmas. It felt like a holiday, but such a personal one. Sleeping in is such a treat for us, as Saturdays typically involve some sort of marathon workout in the morning. We almost didn't know what to do without the alarm clock chiming. Almost. We exchanged traditional first anniversary paper gifts, and then we decided to roll out of bed for make coffee and think about running.

Time was ticking on our day, so we opted for a quick bite so we could optimize our ideas for agenda items. First, we wanted to hit the Italian coffee shop up the street that not many people know about. Each drink is prepared with such precision, infused with sheer artistry. We had been wanting to visit this coffee shop since we moved into the neighborhood, and we checked that line item right off our list.

Then we decided more than anything we wanted to get our yard in order for the spring and early summer. We picked up a push lawnmower and headed to the local nursery for plants and flowers. Our little yard isn't much, but we have a raised bed, and we were determined to fill in all the empty spaces in the yard with edibles or other intriguing plants. Taylor wanted to grow hops up the pergola, not for any other reason than for the aesthetics. So, we planted, weeded, and trimmed our yard to near perfection that afternoon.

It was a truly serendipitous day. Even a trip to a different grocery store than our typical led to a free fiesta in the parking lot, complimentary roses at the entrance, and a beer tasting to boot. I told Taylor it felt like people knew it was "our" day, even though it was just coincidence.

We squeezed in a quick trip to the gym before we headed out to wine country for a multi-course meal at an adorable French restaurant we'd heard much buzz about. We were semi-planning for a farm-to-table dinner, but luckily we pulled the plug on that idea ahead of the torrential rains that graced the Portland area that evening. We were lucky with the weather while we planted, but boy did the clouds open up as the sun went down.

The owner of the petite restaurant also happened to be our waiter, and we outlasted all the other patrons for an intimate experience. We tried all the specialties, and we sampled all the desserts on the menu. It was perfect. There's no other word to describe it. And afterward, when the rest of the small town went to sleep, we sauntered across the street to a cafe, which provided live folk music and the friendliest, most welcoming strangers.

I didn't want the night to end because the entire day was so magical. We knew we would have a good time not matter how we chose to celebrate our anniversary, and following the day as it unfolded before us ended up being the most perfect plan of all.
 
I feel so fortunate to have found my other half in Taylor. Someone who balances me and supports me. Someone who challenges me and also just lets me be me. Someone who drives me crazy and yet elates me. We certainly do not agree on everything, but we know how to compromise (most of the time), and each other's happiness is our ultimate goal on a daily basis. I know the best is yet to come, and I am blessed to be able to experience it with Taylor. And for that I say, thank you, Taylor. I love you!

Why did I feel I had to take a pic of the parking lot party? You can't even tell what's going on in this pic, but I love that our anniversary coincides with the Cinco de Mayo holiday weekend. 

We literally could not fit any more plants into our truck. 

You should see this bed now. 

And these hops! Whoosh!

The dramatic "before and after" photos are definitely needed! 

From the most thoughtful Kelley. These lasted for weeks. Hats off to Sammy's.

Of course we had champs at one point during the day.

Taylor loves ending a fancy dinner with espresso. And I do, too. 

Tonight...I lived a country song

My heart is still beating a bit out of my chest. I had to fire up the computer before the details of tonight's dinner fizzled out of my memory.

I left work a bit early in order to drop off dinner at Taylor's work. I knew he'd be home late, like usual during these last couple of weeks of Tax Season, so it was a nice treat saying hello while it was still light out.

I was planning to welcome an old friend for dinner, but he fell sick with the flu, so I switched my mindset and sort of looked forward to my evening alone. I rarely come home before 6 on a work night, so you can imagine my delight as I schemed my solo dinner, with a bit of college women's hoops in the background, and a stack of new magazines to flip through. Tonight was going to be a true treat.

Our new kitchen has a few bells and whistles, some of which I'm scared to use. I decided I was going to make burgers (I cannot remember the last time I made a beef burger) and attempt to use the gas grill on our range. I thought I better fire it up to make sure it worked before I formed the patties and committed to this dinner.

Click, click, click...BOOM!

I can't really tell you what happened, but first I checked to make sure I had my eyebrows and lashes, and then I tried to turn on the burners again. None of the burners clicked or lit. Awesome. So, I tried turning on the oven, which is gas, too. And...nothing. Great.

I should pause for a minute to share that I had the back sliding door open to let the cat out in the backyard for a bit before it got dark. He's been pretty good at staying in the backyard, partially because Taylor's trained him and also because typically the garbage and recycling bins line the gaps in the fence leading to the front yard.

Back to the kitchen.

I didn't want to bother Taylor at work, so I did what any girl would do...I called my parents. My mom said the expected..."Let me put your dad on the phone." Good ol' Dad walked me through a series of tests for my issue, but none of them seemed to do the trick, so he offered up the, "Well, you can light a match and turn on the gas--that should work," I said I'd try it, but only if he stayed on the line should I really incinerate my lashes and brows this time.

The first match broke in half, and I couldn't find the unlit flame side anywhere on the floor or counter. It's a real comforting thought knowing an unlit match is floating around a kitchen. I burned my fingers on the second and third matches because I was such a wimp attempting to catch the flame on the gas.

I finally lit the burners, and let me tell you, I lit them all and told my dad thanks before quickly hanging up the phone to get my burgers formed. Mind you, I planned to make green beans and sweet potato fries with the burgers (again, such a special treat for tonight!), so I threw the frozen beans on one burner and, after much contemplation, decided to try baking the fries in a skillet.

I finally got the burgers made, and I threw them on a grill pan (not the grill on the stove because I had (and have) no idea where the ignitor is on that bad boy. I thought I'd set the microwave timer to help remind me when to flip the burgers, but then I realized the microwave had no power. And, the coffee maker didn't have power, either. So, while the burgers started cooking, I decided to give my dad a call back to see if he could help troubleshoot the issue again.

I tried flipping the switches on the fuse box (is that what it's called?), but the micro wouldn't turn on. Just as I was reading all the different fuse labels to my dad over the phone, the smoke detector started blazing. Correction: The smoke detectorS started blazing. I immediately heard my husband's voice ringing in my head, "If you make burgers tonight, don't forget to turn on the hood fan." I mean, this hood fan is industrial strength, but I'm just not used to having this feature, so I haven't remembered NOT to forget to turn it on. So, I ran over to the hood just as the cat--who, by this time was back in the house--BOLTED out the door and scampered around the corner of the house. The same corner of the house where the garbage and recycling bins are typically covering the holes in the fence to the front yard.

I told my dad I really had to go, and I quickly fired up the fan hood and ran over to turn on the ceiling fan (another feature I forget we have now). I tried the ol' "fan it with a towel" technique, too, in order to stop the smoke detectors from beeping. (Can you tell this is not the first time my cooking has caused these annoying beeping machines to play a tune?)

The beans were burning. The fries were charred. The burgers were actually cooking quite nicely...but the cat! What about the cat?I couldn't let this cat go missing on my watch. Although Bronx and I have our differences, I know how much he means to Taylor, and I couldn't let the cat run away from fear of the loud beeping detectors. I grabbed the bag of cat treats and ran outside, spatula in hand. I whistled and called his name, and I finally found him behind our back house.

After bribing him with the treat, I finally got him in my arms, only to walk into our house and witness what looked like a snow storm. The ceiling fan somehow picked up ash from the fireplace and was distributing it all around our living room and kitchen. At this point, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. But I did know I had to call my mom because I had to share this scene with someone, and I just didn't want to bother sweet Taylor at work.

I told her I felt like I was living out some sappy lyrics to a country song.

I still wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but I did know I needed to eat, so I slapped that burger onto a cold bun, flipped the half-frozen, half-charred fries onto my plate, and scooped up a few of the beans cooked pretty similarly to the fries. I cracked open a beer, and let me tell you...I poured over every page of one of the magazines in peace and quiet.

I have no idea what's wrong with the stove or electrical, and I'm not sure how Taylor's going to heat up his leftovers when he gets home, but I survived this kitchen misadventure, and for that I'm pretty proud.

We interrupt this weekend to bring you...

Paint. All day. Every day. Here we are halfway through room two of two, before I raised the white flag and vowed never to paint solo again...on the one and only weekend with a special guest appearance by the one and only Mr. Sunshine. Thankfully, I can retire the roller and drop cloths for a long time now. More progress shots in store.

The holidays in a hurry

I don't even know where to find photos from the holidays. Did I take any? From Thanksgiving through New Years, our days passed in the blink of an eye.

We decided to start looking for a house casually, and we planned to put our condo on the market at the start of the new year. Then, the cutest little bungalow went on the market, and we knew we had to act fast. By the end of the week, we had a home, and we were getting everything in order to list our condo before Christmas.

I actually can't remember if we had the house before or after Thanksgiving, but we spent turkey day with Taylor's family, which has turned into a nice tradition. We shared Christmas with both families, highlighted by watching sweet little Hazel carefully open gifts at Nana and Poppi's house.

I will never forget the look on Taylor's face when the realtor selling our condo called on New Year's Eve evening to tell us we received a full-priced offer. It was the best news, and we knew our 2014 was off to a wonderful start.

Now...I'm going to start working to find some photos. These recaps are a little lame without the proper footage.