Stripes and sea salt

I would have blogged last week except that Grace Patton had her fourth child, and I was very exhausted for her, so decided to take some rest. Nevermind that she’s blogged four times since giving birth, and I only have cats, so really no excuses about not writing. Except that now I do it for a living, so sometimes I feel like I write, write, write, write, and when I come home I just want to be, be, be, be.

But anyway, let’s start with a house update, because every time I write about my new house it reminds me that I won’t be living in my apartment (that is getting smaller by the nanosecond) forever, even though the builders postponed the completion date, so our happy lil family of four will be sharing our 700 square feet for a bit longer.

We haz paint! We went with SW Sea Salt. BECAUSE WE LOVE THE OCEAN! And other reasons, maybe?

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These are the beautiful doors to our laundry room, where Casey will spending lots of time and I will be spending none. JK. Not JK.

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And here are some stairs! I hope to have Carrie Underwood style legs by JUUULLLY-ish.

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In other news, Casey is growing a beard! He takes things extra seriously now because of it.

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Hawt. He wore the beard to Brittney’s wedding on Saturday. We debated whether or not he should shave for such a fancy occasion, but beard-growing cannot just be stopped for the sake of holy matrimony (sorry, Brittney…)

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While Casey’s beard and I remained well behaved at the wedding, I didn’t do so well Friday night.

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But when I’m with Kaitlin, we rarely behave. Can’t remember the details of the misbehaving. Causing trouble since 1992-ish…

And then later the cats caused trouble. But they sure looked cute doing it.

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Showers and gutters


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With a front door! And rubble!

Below you will see Casey in the kitchen. I could make a joke about how it’s the only time you’ll see him in the kitchen, but he does the dishes, so I really can’t make any jokes about this. I do like how serious he looks while examining basically just drywall.

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This is our second floor “landing.” You’ll notice the light coming through from a little nook. A little cat nook. Know what I’m saying’? Also that art alcove is just dying for a portrait of Lucy and Molly, am I right?

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That paper mask is some new modern art we’re looking into to make us look hip.

Also check out the trim work and crown molding. HAWT. Also, that door is to a half bath. HOLLA, the multiple bathrooms are my favorite part about this house, which you’ve probably read before on this here bloggity or heard me say out loud 57 times a day.

Our shower has changed a bit since the last time I posted about it. The water basically has to fall the length of Niagara Falls before it will reach my head, but Casey will never bump his head on our shower head, so it all works out.

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It has been more fun checking our new digs out every few days, because the changes are getting more and more exciting. Cats are still too busy exploring their 6′ cat tower to even realize they’ll be relocated in a month.

Luke, Hunter and TADS

LUKE BRYAN SHOOK IT FO ME LAST NIGHT! And it was great great great. I got to see him and Hunter Hayes this weekend, and both sang straight to my heart!

We saw Hunter in a suite, which I’ve decided is THE way to do rodeo. Shiz is fab.

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I know that is a picture of friendship, but all I notice is that my pupils and teeth are comically larger than Kristyn’s. Also her fishtail braid <3

Last night we were specially hand-picked for a double date to see Lukey by these two:

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Obviously we had to get sausage on a stick because that’s the kind of thing you do at the rodeo. I typically go for the corn dog, but I was trying to be healthy. Ya know how it is.

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Guy behind Casey in the bottom right looks seriously disturbed (probably by the amount of hip-shakes Luke Bryan performed).

To backtrack, earlier in the weekend Casey and I got to reunite with Austin (Casey’s college roommate), and it was almost as touchy feely as the last time.

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I’ll admit I worry a bit about the TADS (note: at the end of the video there is a song with bad words for those of you who don’t like bad words and like disclaimers like these to warn you that there will be bad words) during these encounters.

However, Austin and I manage to have a strictly platonic relationship. Or so we pretend in our photos together.

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The night included these babies from Torchy’s

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(Although that photo may have been from a few days before we ate there with Austin…whooooops.)

And then we took him to tour our new house!

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Sorry I didn’t clean up before taking pictures. I have always been a lil messaaay.

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Here, Casey is explaining something to Maggie as big brothers do. And Maggie is pretending to remain interested while secretly probably thinking about Torchy’s, as little sisters do.

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Here, Austin stands in our bedroom…which I’m not sure is appropriate given the former comment I made about the TADS and the pretending to be platonic.

Sunday, we went to breakfast with Casey’s parents and then hung out long enough to get a trip to Lupe’s, Home Goods and Lowe’s out of it, too! We also managed to try Fat Cat Creamery, which I’ve been dying to try for obvious reasons. The ice cream was delicious, though to be honest I haven’t had many bad ice scream scoops, but the cat decor really stole the show.

Meanwhile, my parents were in Bermuda livin’ the dream, sending me photos like these:

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And…I’m hoping they bring me back one of these:

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I put in my request, but I didn’t beg as I didn’t want to appear spoiled, so we’ll see.

Ferociousness and vacuum cleaners

I didn’t blog yesterday, because it’s really hard to blog about your weekend when the most exciting thing you did was go to Target and Bed, Bath, & Beyond to look for a vacuum cleaner. I got a nasty cold this weekend and spent most of my time on the couch…except for when we ventured out to look at vacuum cleaners (which Casey begged and begged me to have an opinion on, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it–but if our biggest problem (besides the cats, but that’s a touchy subject (see below)) is that I have a hard time caring about whether we go with the Hoover or the Eureka, then I’d say we’re doing pretty good for year 1). I’d tell you which one we ended up ordering online, but I can’t remember. Casey is probably going to be all “SMH” when he reads this.

Sunday, I was feeling a bit better, but it was difficult to go places, because there was a huge thunderstorm. I did venture out to the grocery store for a brief period of time. However, I got a text message from Casey before I had even made it out of the produce aisle. You’d think I could manage to pick out a watermelon and a couple avocados before something goes wrong. But if you thought that, you were wrong. This is what the text message said:

“I hate Lucy” quickly followed by a picture of bloody fingers. I’ll spare you the gore.

I immediately started thinking in expletives. I may have also been tempted to cry, because in the 27 seconds that I received these messages, I had already convinced myself that Casey was probably going to make me get rid of the cat like some husbands threaten to do on “My Cat from Hell.”

Anyway, I texted him back to tell him I was very sorry for Lucy’s mistake. She really should know better, and I swear this isn’t a regular occurrence or anything. Unless we’re at the vet, in which case it happens 100% of the time the white coat is in the same room as us. But Casey was wearing athletic shorts and has no interest in animal medicine, so this is quite unusual.

I mean usually she just sits around and poses like a Victoria’s Secret model, so who knows what went wrong.

It was still a little tense when I got home. Lucy had been put out on the porch, and Casey was still kind of mad that his fingers were bleeding. But here’s the problem…you know how dogs feel really guilty when they do something wrong, and they look at you with sad eyes, and they go sit in a corner or something? Ummmm cats don’t do that. Lucy just acted like her normal self, and wanted sit on me wherever I was. And since Casey doesn’t like cats on the furniture and he was already mad (because of the bloody fingers), I had to sit on the floor the rest of the day so that when Lucy sat on me, she wouldn’t have to walk on the couch to get to me. I think this shows how much I love Casey. I’ll end on that, since love is nice.

IKEA dressers and marriage

Let me tell you how I pictured marriage.

I arrive at our home from a long day of contributing to our family’s income on a Friday afternoon, go for a short leisurely jog around the neighborhood and then do a little vacuuming. After a brief period of time has passed, I hear the familiar sound of keys being fumbled and finding their way to unlock the door. My tall, dark, and handsome husband walks in, kisses me on the cheek, and then makes an announcement. 

“I bought a dresser,” he says. 

“How exciting!” I say. 

Then there is an exchange about how I will have to assist him in bringing in the two IKEA boxes. He knows all those push-ups have transformed me into the perfect mover of large and heavy boxes. My strength and ability to remain remarkably feminine never ceases to amaze him. (This part is kind of fuzzy, so forgive me if I’m not quoting him exactly.)

We move the boxes into our living room and dump everything out. Over the course of four hours, we build a dresser. I take a quick picture and then go to bed. 

Coincidentally, that exact vision came to life on Friday night. It’s funny the way things work out exactly how you pictured them.

It’s blurry, because I was really tired from building a dresser.

In other home improvement areas, I finally framed some wedding photos.

I also learned from the engineers I work with how to amplify the sound of an iPhone with really inexpensive materials.

Fancy schmance.

Saturday, I went wedding dress shopping with Hannah! I sure do love a fancy white dress. Then we celebrated Anna‘s birthday with all the future doctors of America! Not literally all of them, but probably most of them.

The rest of the weekend was spent with family, cats, and dogs. The best kind of weekend.

A tribute to “The Merc”

I interrupt my normal word-and-word title format to bring you a very important post:

A tribute to “The Merc”

You are a maroon 1999 Mercury Sable. You probably never expected to transport 17-year-old kids around from Point A to Point B. I’m sure you were much more comfortable being the sole source of transportation from home to grocery store and church. Nevertheless, you made a stellar career out of toting Casey and me around. After all, yours was the first door Casey opened for me. We had many awkward conversations regarding our so-called “feelings” for each other in your soft gray front seats. When it was time for Casey to go to college, you took him there with great care and even brought him back to Houston to visit me on weekends. That was kind of you. Then, when I went to college, you and Casey were my only way to get places. Besides Route 36, of course. A year later, when I brought my much-shinier-than-you Honda Accord up to school, you got to take a break. No offense, but my car was a little lot cooler. You still managed to get Casey to swim practice at 5 a.m., which I’m sure the Honda could have done just fine, but we let you take on that daunting task.

To be honest, I expected to have replaced you before now. But I’m grateful for the extra time we got to spend together. You and I have been a lot of places together. We rarely got to those places going faster than 60 mph, but still, we got there safe and sound. I’ll find a place in my heart to miss the scratches on your rear end that are now covered up with maroon nail polish. I’ll miss the pennies that have been in your center console since I first sat in that passenger seat. I’ll miss the way the knob for the air conditioner sometimes just fell off for no particular reason at all. I will not miss the way you took forever to unlock when it was cold outside. In fact, I’ll appreciate that our new car probably has a button on the key we just push to unlock the doors.

And though Casey occasionally had other modes of transportation:

None of them worked on land. So thanks for getting him places. You’ve had so many roles: old lady’s car, kid’s first car, boyfriend’s car, brother’s car, off-campus lunch car, Citizens Patrol car, designated driver car, etc. We love you Merc. And we wish you the best wherever you’re going. Which is hopefully not a junkyard, because that would make me sort of sad to think about.

Though our new car might be a little shinier and will probably tote around our future children, you were the one that was there for us in the beginning, when we weren’t really sure where we were headed. And oh the places we went. Thanks, Merc.