Spring's Bounty

A few things:

Yesterday morning I awoke to 2 bits of news that put me into a swirl. (!)

1) Cameron my brother was doing his weekly emailing and I hadn't written him!

2) My mother had left a voicemail saying there was a neighborhood garage sale, it was a GOOD one, and it was already 2 hours underway!

We readied ourselves with relative haste and made it down to Irvine in time to snag this beauty:

Over 150 years old, purchased in rural New York about 10 years ago. And I carted it away in my little tin can car for $25!

And this was an even better bargain! I shall stain it directly. It was a gift from some members of our ward who were cleaning out their garage. They even delivered it for us. We gave a Celtic Gaelic cheer, post-battle enthusiasm levels matched entirely.

I texted pictures of these 2 pieces to my sisters and parents and my dad texted back, "Wow, you are your mother's daughter."

We ventured forth on a walk this afternoon, and the rest of Orange County was having a party. The 4 common themes: tattoos, ciggies, bikini tops and denim bikini bottoms. The other common themes which were almost as hard core were salty breezes, warming UVs, and street musicians. We are happy to be by the water. And all the tattoo parlors.

My bangs are officially longer than they've been in many, many years. I guess the only thing that I can attribute to this stretch of permitted growth is I've been so insanely busy during the awkward phases of bangsville that there hasn't been time to cut them off again in a moment of weak frustration. I still haven't decided my next move with my hair, but since I never make it to the saloon anyway, it'll probably continue growing long in its dark brown way.

Gotta go pop some ibuprofen. House is devoid of Diet Coke.

The Long Story of How I Met my Husband (in a hurry)

Let's go back to 1992. Sister Elizabeth enters Junior High and makes best friends with Annie.

I am a premium tagalong. In fact, I'm so good at tagging along I insist on doing it for the next 6+ years, and they let me.

Elizabeth and Annie grow up and get married.

Annie to him,

and Elizabeth to him.

Annie's husband has 7 brothers. Count them, 7. Odds work for us from here on out.

One of these brothers is

and one of them is

And Sarah and Harry's togetherness brought me back into kahoots with this beautiful damsel after not seeing her for what I would practically call eons.

And here is THE LINK TO LINK IT ALL!

That beautiful damsel you see just above these very letters and words I'm typing right now is the very sister of my very husband. And I've mentioned before that Erica set me up with my darling, charming, funny, smart husband. TADAAAAAAAA!!!!

Utter, merry convenience is the cherry on top to my happily ever after. A friendship that began with Elizabeth and Annie extended to me and ended with a great many bits of eternal alterations of the romantic sort. I forever praise Erica, Annie, and Elizabeth for my match.

Plus, bonus: Annie, Sarah, and I share 4 nieces and nephews.

Voila!

Dig.

The End

N.E.T.

It seems the past few months (minus 2 weeks of honeymoon) have been filled with a certain theme: Not Enough Time.

I LOOoooooong for time, even on weekends, to do so many other things, of which blogging is one, but it seems by the time we get home from work, make dinner, MAYbe go to the gym (the health habits we spent a year establishing have but a whisper of an existence in our current routine***), read, MAYbe watch some tv, and sometimes work a bit more from home, it's time to go to bed. And I am very protective of my sleep. A weakened body leads to heightened emotions of ALL kinds if you happen to be a Merzy.

My sister Sarah and I were discussing lately how we once imagined there will be a time of life in the future that we can devote largely to recreation. New hobbies, old hobbies, developing talents, etc. Then we looked down the road and realized we were being village idiots. Life won't slow down. Puh! I want to know how some of you people possibly manage your time to be able to fit in as much as you do. Perhaps the maniacal, speedy nature of some responsibilities will slow down a bit here and there, but I don't get a Summer 1996 ever again; a summer wherein I was old enough to enjoy some liberties and self-earned funds, but too young to have a job from which the U.S. government would also benefit.

So now I am trying to find a bit of a balance or a "worth it 20 years from now" or a "I must finish this tonight, but I will be free to work on that tomorrow," lest I never spread mine wings of creativity again. Also I recently watched Julie and Julia again and if SHE can write a book, I can write a book. I love Meryl Streep in that movie, DEEPLY LOATHE Amy Adams' character.

Also:

Kate Winslet's divorce. I am devastated. This is a very stupid thing I do. Actors and actresses that pranced about in timeless movies that remind me of a wonderful time of life, or movies that my sisters, mum, and I are forever bonded to, I feel like they too are in my life in some silent way. Kate Winslet had to go and worm her way into my heart with Sense and Sensibility, Finding Neverland, and The Holiday. So then when something like a divorce happens I gasp out loud and say, "Oh no!" and those within earshot ask me what on earth is the matter. So dumb. But that's what happens. Just for the record, my taller-than-a-street-light brother in law was bitterly disappointed when Michael Jordan split from his wife, too.

We've kept a steady flow of black licorice, string cheese, and broccoli in the house.

I finally hung something on one of our walls last Friday night. One of my favorites. I picked up this beloved print at the Chicago Museum of Art in 2006 and it has finally found a home in the form of a frame.

*** Proof:

Here we are eating Raclette. European comfort food. Jeff ate this on his mission. Raclette cheese roasted in these adorable little shovels on our very own Raclette maker then smothered over little tiny potatoes. DELICious but OH SO VERY much the glutton's favorite! We now are trying to keep it at bay or at least to a reasonable infrequency. This wonder could kill a person if treated with excessive attention.

That's all she wrote!

Happy Birfday to the King Bee

To my Dad, Happy Birthday.

Long may the Jimmy Eato banner wave!

Were you in town, I would give you one of these as well as a birthday cake:

Until next time!

GOOOBama!

Thursday I left my phone at home inadvertently.

When Homeboy and I got home late after LONG days, I went to observe my popularity.

I had 2 text messages.

1 was from Homeboy. The 2nd was from none other than....

or some of his obsessive fans, anyway.*

My friend at contact number 622-62 said,

"President Obama needs all of us to make our voices heard in Washington, D.C. Call Congress now to show your support for health reform: [Insert Phone Number]"

I texted back,

"You can kiss it. Obama's health reform would turn the doctor's office into the DMV."

Then I received the following back from my friends at 622-62:

"Thanks for contacting Organizing for America. More info available at http://BarackObama.com. Text NEWS to 62262 to receive updates, HELP for help & STOP to end."

They're such great listeners. And as I was falling asleep that night I chuckled, for it suddenly reminded me of a kinswoman's reaction in times of grumpiness.

* A Note: I am not what you could call a political junkie. This is not a political blog. I am not even about parties so much as common sense. I am unabashedly conservative, though. So if Obama does appear from time to time on this blog, just be warned, unless he stops being a socialist, he most likely will not be warmly blogged.

The Wedding Post Part V: Receiving

Break me off a piece of that! Actually, for me, none thank you. For a handful of years of I thought I was quite the cheese daredevil, but then I discovered I only like mozzarella and Gouda. Maybe cheddar if it involves chips. Hmm. And Brie if it's been baked in a greasy pastry. Need I go on?

That there is the cheese my husband loves, and I love that he loves it, so funky french cheeses we did have.

Now this is more up the proverbial Merzy alley. Too bad I was too busy to only eat 7.

Carbs and candles

My almost-French husband and I both agree on the merits of tarts. Jeff's mum supplied some at the UT reception with Boston Creme in the middle -- shoot me now!

How could you not burst into a chorus of "BABIES ARE DELICIOUS!" after casting sight upon this scene! Check out Niece being dipped by Margaret! Cut that rug!

We were so busy talking to people, I didn't realize until about 40 minutes before the reception was (supposed to be) over that we hadn't done any of the traditional ceremoniousities: the cake, the bouquet, the father-daughter dance, etc. So Harrison the BIL extraordinaire hopped on the microphone and cued us up. Toddle, toddle over to the cake. We hadn't discussed our plan or our rules for the cake bite delivery....

and Jeffrey M. Hayes assumed me cautious...

So even though we both ended up with frosting all over our traps, I won by way of ELEMENT OF SURPRISE!!! Boo ya!

Slow dancin, swayin to the music. Our song was Sentimental Reasons by Nat King Cole, THE MAN HIMSELF. I picked it when I was 20, forgot about it, then remembered it, and there you go.

If my dad sits out the bagpipes at Cameron Eaton's wedding, I shall swallow my own bonnet for disbelief. But, the final daughter wedding must have kicked the Scottsman in him into high gear, because for the first time at any family wedding, half-way through the song, he began JIGGING around the RECEPTION hall for ALL TO BEHOLD AND FOR WHICH TO BE DAZZLED! And then he let out a Celtic Gaelic cheer of the heartiest kind at the end, echoed by the crowd! People still mention it! I was surprised, but I loved it. I think that and the fact that my mom made my dress make my wedding even more special to moi.

A most darling niece. She was so excited to wear her flower girl dress, and then 10 minutes into the party she was dancing with the sugar plums, try as she might to remain coherent. Luckily there was a UT reception 2 weeks later.

Brendon Barton, friend through legal internships, the vicious CA Bar exam, and more. He's getting married in May, and we couldn't be more tickled.

The END! I think. For now. I loved my wedding, can you tell? Marriage is dreamy because I got the right one. I believed in Jeff and Meredith long ago, but somehow I believe in it more and more as they minutes tick by. My own personal love of my life.

Matters That Lead

** Intermission from Wedding Picture blogging and a precursor to the snarky, snobby blog post I've had on my mind for an important nothing:

Today we drove down the 405 and said, "Today is the first Saturday in a month we have been headed toward Irvine, NOT going to work!"

We went to Leading Matters, a Stanford Alumni fest. You know the kind I mean. ALL. DAY. We saw some familiar faces, ate some tasties, and heard some speeches, shook some hands and smiled and chortled endlessly. While Jeff has been to a dozen of these it was my first one and I have to say, I honestly enjoyed myself! The fact that the food was amazing and kept right on coming had nothing to do with it. Cross my cold, cold heart.

Look reeeally hard to note the Stanford logo on the cupcakes of intellectualism!

I'm keeping the name tags I'm holding in the above placed photo so I can one day say to Jeff through my dentures, depends, and hair dye (oh wait, I already have to dye my hair because I have noticeable grays. Thanks mom), "Remimber whayn you 'n I wint to Leading Matters as newlwayds and you were so charming???" For some reason I imagine I'll have a southern accent when I'm a senior. Don't you??

The Wedding Post Part IV: Chuck That Thang!

After catching 4 bouquets in my adulthood (2 in a 2 week period last summer), I sent one sailing.

Cousin Becca, in my opinion, your days are numbered.

The Wedding Post Part III: Zee Beach

Let's start off with the "I have a husband that smells good" photo, and go from there.