Happy Freakin' Birthday

Before you read this be warned! I am relaying this story not to bash my Nathan but to let you in on how funny life can be....


So if you know me well you know I hate my birthday. I hate birthday cake, I hate balloons, I hate presents, and I really really hate that stinkin birthday song. And I tell all who are close to keep away on that day! Now that being said I love celebrating other's birthdays, I love making cakes, buying presents, and I realize this is not logical. This year was no exception. I was down in DC for a few hours delivering some cakes when I get this call:

"Where are you"

"DC why"

"uh uh are you coming home"

"yes I just got in the car...why?"

"I need you"

at this point I hear tremendous pain in my husband's voice and panic sets in.

"Nate are you alright, what happened....wait is this a joke?!"

"No I am really hurt, I fell down the stairs"

at this point I am picturing my husband with his legs broken, blood coming out his ears, and a black eye lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of our basement stairs.

"did you break anything, an arm, a leg?"

"no just a plate, and a cup. I am going upstairs to take a shower then go to bed, hurry home"

so I drive fast but not manic to get home. Upon arriving I go upstairs first...Nathan is bruised, shaken but not stirred. On to the basement. There is pasta sauce all over the stairs, and the few stairs that escaped the sauce got drenched in peach lemonade. There are shards of broken glass everywhere from the glass and chunks of turquoise terra cotta from the plate.

Back upstairs to get rags, broom, vacuum, and carpet cleaner. 20 minutes later I had scrubbed off the sauce and lemonade and managed to only impale myself once with a shard so deep it required tweezers. Bonus! April 17th you should be removed from my calendar, it seems my distain for my own birthday attacked my husband this year!

come take a walk with me...

7:38a Union Station is the next stop, I could continue on to Metro Center then switch to the Orange/Blue line until I hit Eastern Market... the train lurches to a far from smooth halt, its normal, expected....brake fumes fill the car and I am up, paper in hand. I had all intentions of reading all of it but somehow got lost in a dream between Libya, some air traffic controller messing up Michelle Obamas flight, and how queen Victoria single handedly changed wedding culture when she walked down the aisle in a white dress, a color typically reserved for mourning. It never gets finished.

Bag on shoulder, smartrip card swiped too fast so the gates didn't open second go was better. Pass the usual crowd of: hurried veteran commuters who while not yet at the office are busy at work, and the seasonal crowd of fanny packed, matching t-shirt, blood shot eyed because they are still on west coast time tourists. Hold breath as I exit the building, no second hand smoke before breakfast, new year's resolution. Taxi station, cross walk, 52 seconds at the light on Constitution another 13 at A St. NE, swing hips a bit more as I pass the security guards (trying to break that involuntary habit), dirty look to the guy who almost plowed me over because he plowed through a stop sign because he was texting ...jackass. inhale slowly as I pass the lilacs on 5th, that did the trick...jackass forgiven. Key's out before the gate opens, I take my time turning the lock. Purse goes on the chair, keys in the bowl I slide my shoes under the bench and put my glasses on the book shelf, quick glance not exactly thrilled with the job I did of drawing on my eyebrows but can't expect much when you use your phone as a mirror while on that lurching metro at 7:16a.

I go the same way every day so I can pass: my favorite windows, the fountain where it shouldn't be, the wisteria that this year has finally reached the roof, and the chairs.

la dolce vita

Washington, DC is "cold", suits pass, sirens wail, smiles remain infrequent and insincere, there are bomb threats, late trains, alerts from Blackberrys and iPhones crowd the air, opinions are strong, and human emotion at times weak, however amidst all this, this can be found.....

My wife is going to kill me

So it happened, the weather was warm enough, the rain had stopped enough, my grass had grown enough...time to mow! I know why I like it so, it calms me, it numbs my thoughts. Yoga speeds up my head, church is even worse! I try to relax and the wheels in my sky keep on turning, and then like some hick I find peace mowin my grass. So I pulled my mower from hybernation, gassed it up and set out for the front yard. Only thing is, the side yard was blocked so I did what any "sensible" person would do...took it through the house :) I moved the kitchen table, the chairs, lifted up the rug and then out the front door and down the steps leaving a trail of dirt in my house. I couldn't help thinking, "my wife is going to kill me!" and then I realized, I was the wife! and I was just fine with it. Commence my calm, mowing and weed wacking and in usual fashion, flip flops and a dress. I mowed my lawn. My mind stopped. Life is good. Note to self: I do not suggest weed wacking in a dress, your legs suffer.

My (newest) favorite things

I have a lot of favorite things...Kenza, the smell of new cars (even though mine is 11 years old), felt tip black pens, cookie cutter (even though I never make sugar cookies), really high heels (even though I am taller than most girls and quite a few men), and Harry Winston. But lately I love metallics and these are my newest favorites:gold moccasins, gunmetal finger nail polish, and luster dust for cakes. (my toes are red because it's cold outside and even though I love my gold shoes, I still hate wearing them :)

Dinner and dreaming

So it is no surprise that if I had a choice I would have a dinner party every night. I love table linens, I love love dishes!!, I love people in my house, I simply love a party big or small. (pay no mind to the mismatched chair, the matching one was in use for other things). I dream of a day when I will have a dinning room and a table that will fit more than 6 and I can use all 12 fine china place setting at once.

Williamsburg

I don't know what it is about this little town but I love it. Maybe it is because it feels different than Rockville, maybe it is because it is close enough yet far enough away, maybe it is this amazing little cheese shop that has ridiculously delightful blue cheese stuffed olives-among other things-, maybe it is because there isn't much going on there so I can relax, or maybe it is because of this..