More Summer

17 08 2011


Davis Lake is one of my favorite places to camp with Jason and the dog.  We didn’t make it out there last summer, so I was happy to get there this year.

Gotta love summer when you’re camping at a lake.




25 07 2011

This is what summer is all about:

Lazy Days

12 07 2011

The Love and Support of My Husband

10 10 2010

Yesterday, Jason returned from his vacation in the woods, and with him my sense of humor.

Jason and I are very different people, and have very different interests.  But we do have this in common: we enjoy making people uncomfortable with our outrageous and inappropriate comments.

When Jason got home, he asked if I wanted to head to the bar to watch the football game with a couple of his friends.  This is a perfect example of how we are, in many ways, essentially incompatible.  My immediate response was “No” because I wanted a quiet evening at home to (I have to admit this) knit.  And maybe read a book.

But Jason always gets his way in everything.

We headed out to the boys’ favorite bar, where Travis and Colin were already watching the game.  By “favorite bar,” I mean the bartender knows them well, and Jason and Colin have mugs on which their names are etched.

The bartender knows me by proxy, and therefore offered me water or soda – after all, I’m pregnant, right?

I ordered a beer.

The guys and I had some chuckles about this.  They suggested I order a shot.  I held out for awhile, but then Karen joined us via text (she’s out of town, but was getting game updates from her husband, Travis).  When Karen suggested a shot, I knew I had to do it.

Jason flagged the bartender, and without hesitation, she shook me up a shot of vanilla cream and vodka, which I quickly downed as the boys toasted “to the baby!”  (Travis toasted “to the next baby”)

Ah, yes, truly horrifying.

The bartender claimed she had figured I wasn’t pregnant anymore, but we all liked to think she had some doubts before we let her in on the joke.

Due to beer and vodka and pranking, I made a rare concession: I agreed to accompany Jason and Colin to a somewhat seedier bar for some late-night trucker breakfast.

Since I was already deviating from my typical veggies-and-organic cuisine, I went ahead and ordered two greasy breakfasts rather than choose just one.  Mmmmmmm… Biscuits and gravy, bacon, eggs, and pancakes, plus some of Jason’s gravy-covered hashbrowns and english muffin.  Oh, and it began with an appetizer of hot wings.

With four plates in front of me, I was reminded of a bet I have with one of Jason’s friends.  We have a standing date to meet at a famous breakfast place in their college town to have a breakfast eating contest.

“You’ve gotta get a picture of this to send to Josh!” I demanded.

Jason and Colin were game for this, and they each took cell phone pictures of me and my plates, still finishing up my pancakes.

Jason texted Josh the photo, along with this message: “This baby didn’t hang around, but if she keeps eating like this, you’re in trouble.”

Yes, an altogether inappropriate night.

It’s so good to have my husband back, and to have his support through this difficult time.


My first post-pregnancy beer was organic, because I still have to watch what I put in my body - for next time. Trucker breakfast was not organic, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, right?


My Name is Jill, and I Am A Procrastinator

6 09 2010

In the millions of details surrounding an event like a wedding, inevitably something will be forgotten.  It is especially true if you are hosting your wedding at your own home that has been under construction for several months, and have chosen to provide most of the food yourselves.

Something, as they say, has to give.

And that is how I found myself, exactly one week before my wedding, running into a jeweler’s shop, half way to hysterical.

“I need to get a wedding ring for my fiance,” I told the saleswoman.  “Before my wedding.  Which is Friday.”

“Okay, no problem!” she said, with calm assurance.  “What’s his ring size?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Well, okay, small problem.

Jason didn’t want a wedding ring, and wasn’t much help when it came to discussing ring options, which was part of the reason I put off buying the ring for so long.  All that I could get out of him was that he had a slight preference for titanium.  And titanium rings aren’t sized.  And jewelers don’t typically carry multiple sizes in their stores, they order them once they know what you want.  So if I got the wrong size, I would be stuck with it.

It took me until Monday to get a size for Jason, leaving very little time to have the ring shipped.

“Please,” I begged the saleswoman, Kim.  “Ask if they can overnight it.”

They could.  And they did.

Here I am with Kim, picking up Jason’s ring with 72 hours to go.  I might look a little teary-eyed; that’s because we were having last-minute photographer issues.  But I had a ring.

* * *

As I left the house to go pick up the ring, Jason met me at the gate.

“I’m coming with you,” he said, rather curtly (we were both a bit tense from the stress at this point).

“What do you need?” I asked, irritated that I would have to run more errands.

“I have to find a shirt to wear to the wedding.”

Well, at least we have something in common…

Life at the Last Minute

24 07 2010

My mom and I went to Costa Rica as a final “girls-only” trip before I get married.  We planned for months.

With 24 hours left before we had to be at the airport, Jason decided he wanted to go camping.  He really wanted to go camping.

“What else do you have to do to get ready?” he asked.  “Decide which book to take?”

Oh, the boy knows me well – in fact, I had several library books, and needed to decide if I wanted to take the higher-interest hardback or the lower-interest paperback.

We went camping.

Here is the boy, clearly eager to spend every minute with me before I left the country (every minute he wasn’t fishing, that is):

Well, we did hang out together a bit, and close to the fire because, for July, it was cold.  So here we are, the happy couple:

Surprisingly, my mom and I made it to the airport on time.  I even had time to shower.  All I forgot, in the rush the next day, was my toothbrush.  And my fleece jacket.

And for those of you who are as nerdy as I am and are therefore desperate to know: I took the hardback.

Nostalgia Comes Cheap

21 07 2010

Yesterday, I went climbing for the first time in over two years.  Jason’s friends Travis and Chuck most patiently allowed me to tag along, despite the fact that I certainly slowed the group down.  Of course, if you know anything about climbers, you know they’re always happy to have an extra belayer around.

I impressed myself by remembering how to belay.  I wasn’t sure it would come back to me naturally, but since Travis was already leading this climb, I figured I’d better do my best.  He survived, so it all worked out okay.

I was less impressed with my memory of how to actually climb the damn rock.  I did make it up a few routes, and without any serious injury to myself or poor Chuck, who was stuck belaying me as I inched up the hot rock.

During a rest in the shade, I mentioned that I had gotten a nice blood blister.

Travis looked up from his water bottle, mildly interested.

“Well,” I admitted.  “I actually got it trying to open the lock on the bathroom door on the way in, but it’s all part of the experience, right?”

The boys were decidedly not fascinated by my almost-climbing-related bump.

Okay, here it is.  I simply cannot post a how-I-climb-now without a shameless brag about how-I-used-to-climb photo.  Or two.  I apologize for my need to show off and to couch the show-offedness in a simple compare-and-contrast manner.  I really, really, really can’t help myself.

Here it is:

5 years later, 10 pounds later, 1 back surgery later, a lifetime later, these pictures are all I have of my former badass, climb anything, take a whipper and keep going, loving the slimy basalt, three nights a week in the climbing gym self.

I miss that kid.  I wouldn’t trade places with her now, but it’s sure nice to visit every once in awhile.

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