One Year
This time a year ago I was dancing at my wedding. I was sipping champagne and hugging people in a whirl and smiling and smiling and smiling. When I finally sat down at the end of the night I realized that my feet hurt, and that I hadn't even had time to notice that before then.
We celebrated in style, Tish and I. After a wonderful lunch yesterday with cinnabarine and V. and little S, Tish and I hopped in the car and drove up to Portland, Maine, listening to episodes of Radio Lab and The Moth that I had burned to CD for the drive. We settled into our perfectly Victorian bed and breakfast, then dressed and hit the streets for a good wander. We finished the night at 555, where we feasted in leisurely fashion on tiny perfect buttery biscuits, white asparagus soup with goat cheese, Mac and cheese with lobster and truffles, and the most perfect baked beans I have eaten in my whole life, accompanied with a tangy coleslaw and some perfectly cooked pork chop. (It is worth noting that Tish had for cocktail a Dark N' Stormy which will forever after be the epitome of that drink for me, containing as it did a nothing ginger to fell a horse.) We staggered back to our room full and happy and slept beautifully, waking in the morning to many snuggles before breakfast and wandering out into the town. We window shopped, and shop shopped, and had lunch at Duckfat, where the fries really do live up to their reputation and the homemade meatloaf Panini was accompanied by a perfect vinegary pickle, and the beignets with spicy chocolate sauce defy description. (also worth noting is the fact that our shopping led to me now possessing the most perfect pair of ridiculous pajamas, which are bright green and covered in puffins. they make me giggle exceedingly.) Then we went to a park and laid upon blankets in the grass and read aloud to each other and snuggled some more,losing something in the sunshine, before we drove home listening to more podcasts. It was perfect and wonderful, partly because of the adventure of going to a different town and eating different foods and sleeping in a different bed, but mostly because it was full of the ways that we are best at being together. It was full of good conversation and affection and laughing and moments where we stopped each other to remark upon the wonderfulness of this scene or that smell or this taste upon our tongues.
When we got married I said that I wanted to begin as we would continue, with love and laughter in color and friends. The wedding was all of that, in spades, and I will always be grateful for those memories of that day. The year since has been, well, hard, full of difficult changes pushing us from the outside we haven't had a lot of control over. But I'm grateful every day for Tish by my side, for the steadiness of his love and the generosity of spirit, for his support and for his capacity to show up and do the work. A year later we both look at each other and know that we would make the same choice again, that in fact we make the choice every day and that right now we can't imagine making a different one. And that is something to celebrate.
We celebrated in style, Tish and I. After a wonderful lunch yesterday with cinnabarine and V. and little S, Tish and I hopped in the car and drove up to Portland, Maine, listening to episodes of Radio Lab and The Moth that I had burned to CD for the drive. We settled into our perfectly Victorian bed and breakfast, then dressed and hit the streets for a good wander. We finished the night at 555, where we feasted in leisurely fashion on tiny perfect buttery biscuits, white asparagus soup with goat cheese, Mac and cheese with lobster and truffles, and the most perfect baked beans I have eaten in my whole life, accompanied with a tangy coleslaw and some perfectly cooked pork chop. (It is worth noting that Tish had for cocktail a Dark N' Stormy which will forever after be the epitome of that drink for me, containing as it did a nothing ginger to fell a horse.) We staggered back to our room full and happy and slept beautifully, waking in the morning to many snuggles before breakfast and wandering out into the town. We window shopped, and shop shopped, and had lunch at Duckfat, where the fries really do live up to their reputation and the homemade meatloaf Panini was accompanied by a perfect vinegary pickle, and the beignets with spicy chocolate sauce defy description. (also worth noting is the fact that our shopping led to me now possessing the most perfect pair of ridiculous pajamas, which are bright green and covered in puffins. they make me giggle exceedingly.) Then we went to a park and laid upon blankets in the grass and read aloud to each other and snuggled some more,losing something in the sunshine, before we drove home listening to more podcasts. It was perfect and wonderful, partly because of the adventure of going to a different town and eating different foods and sleeping in a different bed, but mostly because it was full of the ways that we are best at being together. It was full of good conversation and affection and laughing and moments where we stopped each other to remark upon the wonderfulness of this scene or that smell or this taste upon our tongues.
When we got married I said that I wanted to begin as we would continue, with love and laughter in color and friends. The wedding was all of that, in spades, and I will always be grateful for those memories of that day. The year since has been, well, hard, full of difficult changes pushing us from the outside we haven't had a lot of control over. But I'm grateful every day for Tish by my side, for the steadiness of his love and the generosity of spirit, for his support and for his capacity to show up and do the work. A year later we both look at each other and know that we would make the same choice again, that in fact we make the choice every day and that right now we can't imagine making a different one. And that is something to celebrate.