It’s Saturday afternoon and I’ve got about 20 minutes before the bread can come out of the oven. I’ve wanted freshly baked bread for about two weeks now so those 20 minutes need to go by quickly, before I start reaching into the oven to eat the bread directly out of the loaf pan.
It’s dark outside. Like, just after sunset and the sun isn’t coming back for several hours, seriously dark. It looks like we might actually get the thunderstorms that they’ve been promising me for months. Or at least a little bit of rain. Rain would be nice—wash all the pollen off my car. A really solid rain might even wash off some of the bugs, but those suckers are stuck on there.
I hope it does thunderstorm, though. Then I’ll have a solid reason why I’m just sitting inside in my slippers, not doing much of anything. It’s been a relaxing day, with nothing happening at all. I finished a book. I watched Wall-e while making bread. And now I’m sitting up here, waiting for the bread and looking out the window. I had planned on maybe getting some pictures of the grass and some flowers, to cheer up those of you who live where it’s still snowing. Not like “Hah! I’ve got it warm!”, but “Hey! The warm weather is coming your way, I promise!”
Oh, hey! Rain! Time to open the window so I can listen to that fantastic sound.
Yesterday was a busy day and I accomplished several things. It felt good to clear all those things off my brand new Remember the Milk list. And I have several more things that I should be doing on that list. But I can’t seem to get any further than getting Justin to put a load of laundry in the wash that I’ll be sure to dry and fold later this afternoon or evening. Apparently it’s just that sort of day.
15 minutes more on the bread.
I have no idea what our plans are for tomorrow. We’ll go to church in the morning, but that’s as far as I know. Out for dinner, I think, but I don’t know where. It’s our one-year anniversary, so I’m pretty sure that we do have plans of some kind, but I don’t know what they are.
I feel like I should say something profound about tomorrow being our anniversary. And I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I can’t figure out what I should say. I end up with all these disjointed thoughts when I think about it:
- I am so glad that I never have to plan a wedding again. That’s it. I’m done. If Justin dies and I remarry, we’re eloping. I’m never doing that again. (But he’d better not die. I don’t like that plan. It’s a bad plan! No dying!)
- How has it already been a whole year? I mean, yeah, we’ve done a lot of things in the last several months, but has it already been a whole year? That’s crazy!
- I’m still really, really pleased with being married to Justin. Okay, so it’s not always smooth sailing, but we’re still solidly honeymooning. He still makes my heart skip. Makes me laugh with his silly antics. Makes me feel so safe and protected wrapped up in his arms. Lots of other sappy romantic things that I won’t make you read.
- That said, boys = still very weird. I definitely wouldn’t want to live without him, but that whole y-chromosome does some crazy weird things to his brain! And I’m sure I don’t even need to start on the whole physiognomy differences. Boys are just so weird different!
- And seriously? A year already?! That’s crazy!
Break for fresh bread! Mmmm. Om, nom, nom, nom.
So that’s where I’m at this afternoon. I’m munching on buttery bread, listening to the rain outside the window, very happy in my marriage and a little surprised that it’s already been year. I think I’m going to go give my husband a kiss, move the laundry to the dryer, and go downstairs to make sure that the kitchen is tidy. Maybe I’ll organize the receipts when I get back upstairs. Or maybe I’ll find another book and curl up in front of the window here and snuggled in for the evening. It’s a relaxing day. I don’t have any plans.