Trashed

Moving always entails throwing things out. It's actually one of my favorite things about moving. Throwing things out that I won't have to unpack and which will then never have the chance to eventually clutter up my space (like I need help, come on).

But I was a little disturbed by the volume of condiments (refrigeration required) that had to be disposed today. Salad dressing, barbecue sauce, olives, garlic, more salad dressing (that's a Hardy thing), ketchup (another Hardy thing), lots of things that you just don't offer to other people.

The things I couldn't bear not to spare? Oh, take note because this is a character defining issue: butter, chocolate fudge sauce and Rose's lime.

The gin I will take with us. Along with the wine and bourbon. The beer will have to be consumed this weekend (can't have skunky beer) during our last days of Ohio starring P, J, KOO and two babies.


On another note:
A weekend with two babies.
Anyone want to get their questions out now about when we're having kids? I don't know if you'll want to ask after the weekend (I love the kids, but you know...).

A Parting Shot

Today is Jacob's last day in the offices of Craftsmen Ohio. This is also the last day in our little Akron apartment. I'm packing up today, a task which I put off yesterday so I could indulge in a little practical craft: thank you gifts for the guys who gave Jacob this opportunity and who have become our friends up here. 

The first time we came up here, I stayed in the main house of one of the owners with the ladies while - in a very familiar structure to our Arab times - the boys headed out to the barn in the back to talk shop and drink scotch (well, everything except the scotch). 

So, as I was tossing ideas out in my head about what would be a proper parting shot for these guys, scotch certainly came to mind. Enter the latest stay at Chez Brown. Elisabeth was doing final preps for the Bar (free at last free at last! She's done and we can go on vacation soon!) and I picked up a magazine to entertain myself. It happened to be Garden & Gun (yes, Garden & Gun) and, therein was the perfect gift: whiskey rocks. 

A great buy for entertaining or for the a throwback bud who enjoys a stiff one on the rocks for real. 

You can get them in sets to pair with your favorite glasses or with glasses. Check them out!

Apparently it's a Scandinavian tradition (pre-dating ice) to set out stones in the cold and then pour whiskey over them so they chilled the drink. It seemed like the perfect office survival kit for these guys - a couple of glasses, coasters, rocks and you have the makings of a tough afternoon. 

Well, a tough afternoon made better. 

Now That's Therapy

Remember when we bought the party time? Well, we bought it knowing that there was no AC. We got a good deal and it was fine because I'm not a total AC girl anyhow - my most beloved vehicle was the old jeep I was allowed to drive in hs (it was supposed to be my dad's fun car) which had little climate control at all and which was frequently topless and doorless - the better to blow out my poor dad's speakers. It was also ok because it was like March or April or some month generally considered to still be late winter in Cleveland.

We just figured we'd get the AC fixed sometime closer to the SC move date, which would be after a couple of months and maybe we'd have a bit more cash. Isn't that how it works? If you wait a little longer you always have more money? Haha. No, grasshopper. Well, actually, Jacob worked insanely hard last month and made a bonus and he insisted we repair the AC sometime before we move to the sticky south (it was 103 PLUS humidity and heat index when mom and I were there looking for apartments).

So I made one of my trips down to Lex, a process I think I could now effectively market as a spa treatment for traveling sales people. Want a cleanse in a sauna-like environment but never have to miss a beat on your out of state appointment? Ride with me and by the time you're to the next stop, I promise you'll have sweated out all the toxins in your body plus at least a couple of pounds and you'll only need to refuel with vitamin water because the sheer temperature of your corpus will be too high for you to even consider ingesting something that requires processing.

Between moving and all this hot driving (Hot driving! It's like hot yoga but you can sit on your butt the whole time!), I'm pretty sure I will lose whatever weight I've gained while up here away from a gym and generally doing random consulting work while sitting on my (increasingly flat) butt - can that happen? Does your butt flatten if you sit on it too much? Danger!

Anyway, so I took the car in last week because I already had a dinner scheduled with my old boss and colleagues and it was my mom's bday, so I figured knock it all out at once (actually, I'd already had it fixed and the compressor went out after two days). Two interstate spa-treatment cleanse round trips, two weeks, three compressors, about 84,000 ounces of freon, a non-leak and a lot of frustrated Spanglish conversations, still no AC. It would seem that there is a bad sensor. So, inshallah, next week, when we return (for one golden day) to pick up the moving truck and load all of our stuff, the sensor will be in and installed and...work?

This has actually become a bit more critical since we are now down to one car. Oh, I didn't mention that? That's right, Ohio has one other shining offering for those who dare venture to this midwestern mecca: a plethora of poorly-planned construction zones infested with $@!**% drivers, who I happen to believe are also just bad people. People who would refuse to let you in while you're trying to accommodate other drivers in a tight spot, people who would speed up and honk just to emphasize that fact and then after they leave you in the shit, trying to avoid causing a huge pileup on the interstate and subsequently crashing headlong into a median, they drive on, not even bothering to call the police. They leave you (or actually my husband who could have, for all they knew, been seriously injured) with a smashed car that's spun out, with airbags deployed, facing oncoming traffic and don't even bother to call the police.

I would have given away that Honda and the Party Time and my house and my dog and anything else I have for the result of that accident, which was that Jacob was completely fine, praise the Lord, so it's not like this is a true challenge in the game of life. It's just a pain in the neck, but I happen to think that there are enough pains in the neck that happen in life without the help of jackasses and can't we all just get along?

Ha. Hahahahahaha. HHhhhhHHHHaaaaAAAAAAAAAaahhhhhhaaaaaaAAAAAA!

Oh, that was nice. It's so good to have a good laugh, you know?

Now that's therapy.

A work in progress

One of the things I've been mulling is what to do in Cola once we get there and get settled. Among the possibilities are some graphic design and photography classes to augment the study that happened once so long ago in college and the fun I always have with that kind of stuff.

P&J have been so sweet to allow me to hang out and be a part of intimate moments and use them to experiment and practice. Here are a few templates I designed for baby announcements. I'm interested in putting together some more templates and maybe selling them. What do you think?

The Good Stuff

I talk a lot about my girlfriends - how thankful I am for them, what we've been through together. The epic things and the every days that make life so much more livable. Boyfriends, jobs, husbands, homes, families, food and goofy TV shows, parties, pities, sadness and laughter - help - with the little things about life that break you down and lift you up.

I'm also very thankful for my wonderful husband. He's intelligent and gorgeous and faithful (to God and me) and fun and I love everything about him (even the stuff that drives me crazy). I adore him as a husband and a friend and I love living life with him, but we both need our time to debrief and spend time with our other friends. And so I'm thankful not just for my friends, but for his.

You and Me and the Bottle (of Belgian Trappist Beer) makes three

 

Our big "money date" was dreamed up with this guy, they've terrorized the suitors-to-be of Jacob's sisters, they've driven to the borders together, adventured through Europe and rolled the hills of Rosslare. This guy presented the two most serious questions and contributions from Jacob during our wedding planning: 1-Can I have one Kingsman and the rest Best Men (I was fine with it, I just didn't anticipate it resulting in many of my friends and family asking if "Kingsman" was some kind of "Southern Thing")? 2-Does Matt have to cut his hair (I said no, although he now says maybe he should have...I'm not convinced - look at how well Spain did this year with their euromullets)?

There's just no accounting for a good friend - or hair like that.

 

Point is that, I'm not just thankful for my friends - I'm thankful for Jacob's. For what they add to his life and for the fact that I get to know them, too.

RIP Cricket

I sometimes chide my husband and sisters-in-law, and friends in general for addictions to their GPS. When my parents first got their GPS-equipped Caddy, my dad ultimately disabled the entire system playing with it and entertaining himself by making the car speak to him in different languages. It eventually became stuck on an Italian woman.

I understand the use of directional helps. I love google maps and my iphone nav systems - mostly because they don't yell at me, "RECALCULATING ROUTE!" like an unhappy spinster taking out her frustrations on an unsuspecting neighbor child (when there is no recalculation necessary). Partially because they allow me to still feel like I'm taking some kind of active part in the process of navigation. Like I'm doing it myself.

So when I started out on the road to Lexington from Akron last week, it didn't even occur to me that I should look up directions. I've driven this route a few times, now. I know where I'm going. And I do. But in order to take the right exits without a voice screaming at you from a nasty dash-mounted electric box there's a catch - you have to pay attention. Which I wasn't doing.

Because as soon as I got on the interstate, I noticed this and became immediately and completely distracted:

I don't know where he came from, but that little guy was so cute. And vulnerable. And about to die. I was sure of it. He was holding on for dear life, antennae flapping in the wind, legs gripping onto perilous holds. I seriously considered pulling over to let the little guy off, but I thought it was no use. He'd never make it past the exit. I kept watching, thinking that the next time I sped up or hit a wind or passed a semi, he'd be ripped off the sideview and thrown into certain death.

I mean, this thing was tenacious. He hung on for a good 20 miles and by that time, I was imagining his stress and cramping muscles. His wife and kids back home. I was stressed out. Then he started making some kind of Macgyver move, tucking his thorax into the space between mirror and casing and there was hope! HOPE!

Then when he made the final move - a thud on the side of the car door as he flew off. Death. RIP Cricket. Gah.

I looked up, eyes fully focused on the road again for the first time in 20 miles and noticed - I had driven completely out of my way. Maybe a screaming GPS might have been a good thing in that circumstance.

Wouldn't have done the cricket any good though.

Experimentation

Once again we are getting ready to move. We're also on a bit of a budget - as usual. We're just poor gypsies!

In order to both save money and utilize as much of what's already in the cabinet, we've embarked in a challenge to not spend money on groceries until we've used up what we already have. We are so sustainable. Yeah, that's it. Not poor, not pennypinching. Sustainable. Duh.

I get so caught up in making fun recipes (REALSimple has me there) that sometimes I think I need to take off to the store at every turn to make tasty meals. This next week should be interesting (use what you have use what you have).

We have: chicken breasts, Omaha steak burgers, bananas, oatmeal, kielbasa, bacon, edamame, tuna, waffle mix, pasta, butter, spices, salad dressing, butterscotch chips, homemade beer cheese, rice, shredded parm cheese, flour, wine, ice cream (quickly waning supply) and eggs.

We will buy: potatoes, sandwich buns, maybe some other veggies to keep us green.

On the menu:
Bacon burgers and homebaked homefries
Tuna Salad Sandwiches and veggies with dip
Breakfast for dinner - Belgian Waffles and eggs
Jambalaya
Rue's spicy pasta (with chicken)

The extras:
Oatmeal butterscotch chip cookies
Banana bread (two loaves)

It's actually pretty amazing what you can do with what you have. Oh, a lesson I'm learning every. single day.

Kiss it/Miss it

Miss it: P&J's dogs, especially Jackson, who reminds me of Kipling a lot. But, I'll be ok since I get Kipling back soon! Jacob will probably miss Sadie more, since she is a girl and favors the boys for sure, and is less complicated and basically just happy go lucky and she does tricks, and I am forcing him to take on my dog - who has lots of quirks and doesn't really do tricks unless they involve peanut butter and frequently attempts to co-op all available space around me - as our dog.

Kiss it: the laundry room in our apartment building. The communal laundry room that costs $3/load. It's far superior to an off-site laundromat, though, so I can't complain too much, but basically: B to the S. Hello hookups - washer/dryer hookups that is!

Cool as a cucumber

My ever-culinarily-enterprising sister in law started a garden this year and as I was pulling out of the driveway to return to Cleveland, she came high stepping out of the yard with a prize: one of her cucumbers.

Having just eaten a fab meal that included her homegrowns in a gorgeous cucumber salad, I was inspired and fixed one up for Jacob and me last night. What a divine summer food!

I wish I could say I brought the cucumber straight home, but to be quite honest, the days between the drive and the salad were punctuated with a couple of mary poppins-esque episodes of pulling a cucumber out of a purse. How odd. Nonetheless the salad was delicious!

The recipe I used was a mix of a couple online and it could still probably use some tweaking, but here we go (maybe if we're lucky, Monica can add two cents on her version!):

6-8 oz. of Greek plain yogurt
2 cucumbers, sliced and peeled (or not - the skin is good for you and adds some crunch, I like it)
Salt, to taste
2t white vinegar
1t garlic, crushed (a clove or so)
1 1/2 t dill (dried)
ground pepper, to taste

Prep cucumbers and put in a colander. Salt and drain for 10 minutes.

While draining, put yogurt in a bowl and whisk until smooth (just a couple of rounds), then whisk in other ingredients. Add cucumbers and fold in, chill and serve. Salt if more is desired. Enjoy!

Kiss it or miss it

I know it seems odd for me to say this in a way, but there are definitely some things I'm going to miss from up here. It won't be a total kiss off.

I will miss: The large bird. A fan favorite among readers and residents of the NE and also the source of nearly all our shopping spoils, Giant Eagle always doubles my coupons with a smile and adds fuel perks at GetGo (which I still maintain should be named the Eaglet). Is there a place like this in SC? Please!

In no particular order, obvio: P&J. They are such sweet friends and Jacob's relationship with him and them has persisted through many years and many distances. I know it will be the same for the four of us - and now with baby, the five of us!

Kiss it: the rain. THE RAIN! OMG, the rain. Kiss. It. Peace out. I'll gladly take my moisture hanging heavy in the air instead of dumping on me every single day. Heat and humidity, here I come.

Back later with the story of love, loss and lost...a dead cricket. So sad. So very very sad.

Home Sweet (Next) Home

I may have talked about this before, but there was an impertinent moment in my youth when I was incredulous at my mom's wanting to stay put - in Indiana, in her comfy home with all her friends around (sounds terrible, right?).

After our excursions abroad (and in the US, have I mentioned I live in Northeast Ohio right now?), I found myself in a strange place when mom and I traveled to South Carolina last week: I was looking for a home. Not just the next place to land, not just a shelter that covered the necessities. I found myself really desiring a place that Jacob and I can unpack, stretch out and settle down. Did I just say those words? Yes. Settle down.

So somehow, when we found a couple of places that fit the technical bill, I still found myself stressed and hesitating. Seeing as we lived in what we were told was the only available apartment in Burami, Oman after sharing a two-bedroom house with other fellow students (and they were even kind enough to give us the one working bedroom) after sharing a dorm building, I guess I was holding out hope for a little something more.

My new rockstar friend E drove me around on our last full day in town and she is the ONLY reason we found this place. I didn't want to call the numbers we found that day, and I didn't want to go see the only place from all 15 numbers I called that was: in our price range, had W/D hookups, and would allow my dog. Sitting outside, waiting for the landlord, I thought, there's no way this will be worth it. But I think I was wrong...

Front porch! Brick duplex! Yard! Cute 'hood! Bikeable to campus!!!

Built in bookshelves! Fireplace! In the (paraphrased) words of my mom and mother in law, 

this just looks like you. I'm excited for it to look like us. 

This is a place I can see our lives. I can see Jacob coming home in the evening and walking my dog in the neighborhood and having dinner parties. Al humdulallah! Now just remember, Columbia, SC is so very close to lots of fun things like Asheville, Savannah, Charleston - and it's not too bad itself. Come visit!

Home Sweet Home

Today mom and I are taking a little girls' retreat to South Carolina to scout out Jacob's and my next living arrangement. I can't believe that, since we've been married, we've lived in Morocco, the UAE, Oman and the US. In addition to those countries, we've traveled to Egypt, Jordan, France, Italy...and we've also stayed in the states of Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio (commonly known as the tristate area). Now we move down South to Cackalack. 

We're hoping for the holy grail of married housing. Affordable, bikable, dogable, launderable. 

Well, hoping and praying. 

Cafe All Lait

I know that this seems indistinguishable and sort of like one of those kids puzzles on the back of the World Wildlife Federation magazines, but I won't make you guess what it is.

I woke up yesterday morning and attended to my first priority of the day: making coffee. Jacob likes his fiber in cereal, I'm more of a java girl. Sooo...before I knew it, I looked down into my coffee maker and that is what I saw. I then looked incredulously to my pouring right hand, which was holding - a gallon of milk.

I guess this is why I usually make my coffee in the evenings before bed.

Shoulda been a reality tv show

I watch TV a lot right now, ok? Like probably way above the national average of that study they showed us at church last week. It's always on when Jacob isn't home - even if I'm doing work (house or otherwise), even if it's on mute...and Jacob works a lot. You do the math.

ANYway, I saw this True Life recently (True Life: I'm a newlywed), and one of the couples got married and then the bride immediately moved to Indianapolis with her new groom (11 hours away from her family home). It was all drama drama drama, as those shows are wont to be, and she's upset she can't bring her blue chair and he eats pizza at 1:37 am. There are tears and bouts of irritation and lots of adjustment.

But I'm like, child, you have no idea. At least Indy has pro football.

We totally should have been a reality show. True Life: I'm a newlywed overseas in the middle east wearing long sleeves in 120 degrees and PS we were engaged for three months after dating three months.

But that's not much for reality.

Bliss

This is my husband - and my dog - laying on my lap last weekend at my mom's house. Can I tell you how excited I am that I get to have them both when we move to SC? So happy!

Thanks, husband, for letting me bring my puppy even though I fawn over him sometimes and it's going to be more expensive and difficult to find a place that takes dogs. I promise I always like you much much more than him.