To you I say: Thank you for deep breaths, wordless communion with Clara's soul, clear night skys, cleansing tears, and 1200 miles of fresh perspective.

I was driving in the dark late last week thinking of my upcoming anniversary and was quite suddenly taken with Orion in the night sky.  This is an appropriate correlation, for it was the saint who introduced me to the stars.  When we attended college in Redding (for all its faults, it has a fabulous night sky because of no city lights nearby), Joel and I used to stand in the parking lot of my apartment complex trying to tear ourselves away from each others' embrace to say goodnight, and he would teach me about the universe.

A while back, I asked my family to answer a question.  I asked them to say one thing they would not have otherwise been interested in or knowledgeable about had they married someone else.  At the time I said beer and science, but I think more specifically, I would never have thought to look up without my dearest friend lifting my sad chin towards the hope of vast possibility, of all that has been and could be, of the universal perspective.

I have been loved by good men in my life.  I always chose wisely with men (save a small year of lapsed judgment in college where I worried the holy jesus out of my best friend, jackie), and have been thinking of them lately.  I had one first love, he loved me from 6th grade to 11th grade, and was my first kiss and first intimate connection.  He taught me to see myself as worthy of love.  I can see his dark almond eyes wet with admiration for me, and I realize that I've had an amazing and enviable romantic journey.

I think of the few others and find love and admiration for them inside of me still.  "Love does not with the remover remove," after all.  Although they were all with their desperation and heartache at some point, and I do not pretend that I would have done several things differently, but I realized driving home under the stars with an eagerness to get home and show Joel how brightly Orion was beaming, that I am the only person in existence to travel this specific path...a path either destined or chosen, or both.  Either way, I realized that I am unique, lovable, and incredibly happily married.

My first love...I believe he would be proud of me if he knew me now.  I believe joel has picked up a mantel of great honor, to love a woman better than she's ever been loved AND to be loved in return.

Which is, after all, "the greatest thing you'll ever learn."

Happy Anniversary, Saint.

~your weeping willow

Didn't I just get through telling you all that we Whitney's don't like waking up?

She's so my blood...

Welcome (9 days early!!!) Clara Blake Goodrich.

5lbs, 11 oz.

Born 11/22/09 at 7:49am.

I'm headed to San Diego tomorrow for what was supposed to be a week getting ready for Clara with my sister...but alas, I guess I have to kiss her cheeks instead.

See here for more pics from Daddy's phone...

And let me just take this opportunity to apologize in advance for the inevitable picture fest that shall ensue for, well...the rest of my life.

~crm

Is it really approaching 2 AM?  Sheesh.  This week has been a blur for me here at Booklings Manor...and my normal blogging has fallen to the wayside for more pressing projects.  I'm working on a Christmas project that was sent to the printer TODAY finally.  I'm looking forward to having it in my hands and then perhaps putting it into yours!

I'm preparing for a trip to San Diego for 2 or so weeks to meet my new (as yet, unborn) niece.  I'll be kicking it with my prego sister for Thanksgiving, helping her get ready for the baby, and soaking up some sunshine.  I'll also be purchasing her VW Golf and taking a road trip from San Diego to Seattle!  I'm excited about that because I surely do love road trips, but I'll also be stopping all along the way to visit friends and family. 

This Monday is the saint and mine 7-year wedding anniversary, and though we are hoping to take a trip to Florida in January or February, we'll still be doing something fun this weekend.  We are toying with going to the Major League Soccer championship game and eating hot dogs and drinking beer!  I know it doesn't sound like our typical posh-like outings, but I seriously love soccer (futbol) and the saint loves anything European (including the beer!). 

Okay, I have to go get sleepy now.

I'm guessing that joining joel while he watches old Dr. Who* episodes will do the trick.

Joel's addicted to BBC.

I hate getting up.  I might be a bit notorious among my friends for waking up cranky...but I tell you my whole family is like this.  I am not sure what kind of happy annoying family you were raised in, but we Whitney's, we are late sleeping, non morning people S.O.B's.

Well, I married one of those happy annoying people, and he wakes up with a grin every.SINGLE.morning.  He has accommodated to my morning ritual of "please don't talk to me unless you have a cup of coffee in your hand for me," so he usually doesn't bother me.

You can therefore imagine my surprise when I awoke today to the saint pulling back our curtain window to shine the sun directly in my face.  Now, I have been getting up later than usual (which is already way later than the average person anyway), so I thought this was his sneaky way of waking me up to make him breakfast.  Alas!  It was not the case.

The goodly saint was waking his bride to reveal to her the season's first SNOW! I did not pop right out of bed, but I did snuggle back in with thoughts of snow and warm fuzzies.  After about 15 minutes, I got up, threw on my boots and toque, and headed outside for a few shots.

This is not a serious snow, but it certainly counts as snow and by god...I'll honor it because it got me out of bed before 10 a.m.  This is no small feat.

PS: Totally random and disgusting confession.  I made  a pot of coffee yesterday and didn't finish it.  So today I noticed it still sitting there.  Don't tell the saintly coffee and beverage snob, but I totally microwaved it and am now sipping on it.  It's gross, in a really good diner way.  Happy Wednesday!

Go HERE to vote on this very serious matter.

Directions:

Turn left out of driveway,

 Follow the road forever.

My husband said, "Grab your camera and boots.  Let's go explore."
I had no idea he meant explore my very own backyard.

Talk about space to stretch your wings...

I've been spending my week doing a lot of writing, and not all for myself!  I can't say anything about it, but I hope to have an article published in Antler Magazine come November 15th.

It's also the MONTH OF MAIL - and even if you didn't join in to write a snail mail post every day, you can take advantage of the reminder to write your mother, daughter, friend, husband (post it?!) or cat and let their mailbox get a break from bills and junk.  I wrote my grandpa a small postcard, and he left a voicemail gushing about how it was so meaningful to him.  Seriously, mail can be profound. 

Not a bad problem to have.

For a belated Mother's Day present, I took the saint's mother to Molbak's a few days ago.  It was the perfect brisk, sunny Autumn day.

Molbak's is the most amazing nursery/home and garden store.  It's not only MASSIVE, but it has a garden cafe in the center that breaks up the day of shopping quite nicely with a great sandwich and glass of Sav Blanc...and is pretty much guaranteed that if you come to visit, we'll be headed to Woodinville for a day there.

In the four hours we spent wandering around looking at indoor and outdoor plants, I felt the most immensely euphoric peace.  Save the peak of tall mountains (which I can only imagine, since I am not a hiker), I do not think it's possible to breath so deeply than while at Molbak's.  Truly, I feel as though my soul escaped my bod so it could go dancing in the azaleas, climbing the Japanese maples, hiding in the bamboo, staring at the bonsai, drinking in the color of the wandering jews...

And that's just the INDOOR section!

Then we headed out...