The Things We Do For Love

On any give day it is very likely I will find some hidden note in the house from Aaron professing his love for me. Often people become comfortable in their relationships and begin to ignore these little gifts.

Not me.

When he does leave me a note, which I have to say is almost daily, my heart still races and I read the note over and over before I hide it away. I'm pretty sure he thinks I throw them away because I have tried to convince him over the past year that I am not a sentimental softy... but I think my secret is out.

So thank you Aaron for so many things

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For making my coffee every morning

For always taking out the trash

For ALWAYS doing the dishes

For always asking if I need anything

For your sweet text messages throughout the day to remind me that you are having "agonizing thoughts of me"

For my love notes

For coming home to me every night and giving me a kiss before you even take off your coat and shoes

For always driving everywhere we go

For loving me and putting in so much effort to make us happy and healthy

For so many others I won't mention here...

XOXOXO

High Tide

Aaron and I needed to get away, and that was that. We packed our bags and headed to one of the many places that brings me comfort, the water. Being near water calms me in a way I can't describe, it's humbling and breathtaking at the same time. So we thought about our get-away options and decided the cold blue Atlantic would do.

Growing up my mother always brought us (my sister and myself) to York Beach in Maine. I have never been a fan of the Hampton's (much to busy) so we packed up and drove to Long Sands to get a ocean view room and take in the beauty of one of natures most powerful creations-- the ocean (I know, I am being very dramatic.)


We both had a very busy week, Aaron with his students at school and me with my clients, so this was a much needed weekend get-away. We did all of the things one would do on the beach... visit Nubble Lighthouse- I am obsessed with lighthouses- ate at an ocean side restaurant, walked the beach collecting treasures, stopped at little beach shops, and went to Goldenrod to watch taffy being made. What a wonderful trip. I even brought Aaron to my favorite place to eat at York Beach, a place I don't even speak of to most people or name in a public forum because it is so sacred to me. Needless to say Aaron fell in love with this little restaurant, which means he's a keeper.

There were so many wonderful things about this trip, some too private to mention, but mostly being in a place that means so much to me and sharing it with someone I love, that understands and appreciates its beauty, provides me with so much comfort and peace.

I love, love, love this picture of Aaron.

After a few too many star-clipper drinks at dinner we retreated to our room to take various goofy pictures of ourselves.

Our bird friend

Nubble Lighthouse

Just before breakfast when we decided where we

were going

Summer Sizzler

Each year the company I work for has an end of the year "employee gathering." It has been held, since I have worked for the company, at Camp Spaulding--a summer camp for kids. Usually there is a TON of food, organized games, contests, and free time in which the President of the company encourages us to "explore each other playfully." (That is in quotes!) This year was no exception.

The whole shin-dig started off well, with human bingo, followed by a 15 minute moral-boosting plug by the President and COO, and then we were free to do as we pleased. I immediately teamed up with a friend from Street Outreach/Teen Services, Angie, for the water balloon toss. It went well; we won a $10 gift card to Shaw's. I hate to lose and shamefully admit to being "ultra competitive" even at water balloons! (*Picture above shows me with the winning balloon, who Angie and I named "Hermie.") Then we all ate. And ate. And ate. (I felt much like Pooh bear at the honey tree.) After lunch, while we were still milling around the dessert table when clearly many of us should have stopped eating, one of the program managers asked me if I wanted to do the canoe race. Being athletic and an avid kayak-er I asked- "should one win, what is the prize?" I was feeling rather bloated from dessert, so I wanted to know exactly how worth my while this race would be. Her response was "a half-day off." Okay, I'm in.

When we lined up to make our track down to the water, I was sizing up my opponents. I pretty much knew I had almost everyone beat. There was one team I was concerned about, which coincidentally was my ex-supervisor who I knew jogged daily and lived on a lake where she would canoe/kayak frequently. My hope was my partner, Bill- the VP of the company, he looked pretty brawny.

Once in the canoe, I reverted into the beast one often encounters on the soccer field, or across the Monopoly board. I told Bill that he had better paddle like hell. The first heat went well, we were beat by a fraction. Literally a fraction, by the team I suspected was going to win (they had better team-work.) So following the first heat, Bill and I had a chance to strategize. I gave him a small pep-talk that basically consisted of me telling him that he could probably row better if he took the cigar out of his mouth, and I cautioned him about my violent mood swings when I lose something in which I am clearly the favorite to win.

We were pumped for the second heat which would be the two best racers from each heat. But there was a catch... someone in the boat had to be blind-folded. A small detail I knew I could work around... I had no problem screaming out orders and rowing us if Bill could just work at being a "blind rudder." About 30 seconds into the final heat, and me screaming like a crazy woman, Bill and I some how managed to capsize and plunge deep into the frigid waters of the Contoocook River. Now, to some that may not sound so bad. But let me tell you, I was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, a white tee-shirt. Our overturned boat filled up with water, and I was stationed directly underneath it trying to fondle my way to the top without losing my Calvin Klein sunglasses and contact lenses. Once at the surface and gasping for air, the cold water chilled my body to the core and immediately I thought, "I wonder if we got back in and paddled like hell- if we would still have a chance?" But it was a metal canoe filled with water, and we were out too deep to have any leverage to try to make the situation right. So we were forced to do the "swim of shame" back to the dock dragging a capsized boat all the while me, hanging on to the oars, a life-jacket I haphazardly threw in the boat as an afterthought, and Bill's waterlogged cigar. (what? like I was going to leave it in the river to pollute the aquatic life.)

I lost the race and my dignity, but made a memory and I think earned a little of Bill's respect as he seemed amused and surprised by the comprehensive list of profanities that comprised my vocabulary the entire swim back to the dock.

Do you remember where you were...

Usually I wait until the end of the night to post something, as Aaron and I talk about our day and the things we are grateful for. I knew the minute I woke up this morning what I have to be thankful for.

As a kid I remember hearing the adults I was exposed to ask, "Do you remember where were you when Kennedy was shot?" or "Where were you on D-day?" I specifically recall thinking "Thank God I will never have anything like that to remember." Last night Aaron said to me over dinner, "Where were you 6 years ago tomorrow?"

I remember exactly where I was. I was on my way to school at Husson University. I was on the interstate and listening to the radio. The first plane had hit the Trade Tower, and I thought "how does that happen?" I assumed it was a small private plane that miscalculated and crashed. I had been to the Trade Towers a couple years earlier and found it amazing that someone would "miss" them in the NYC skyline and accidentally crash. Then came the news; there was a second impact, and they weren't planes they were jets full of people, and it was no accident.

The rest of that day was blur. I remember being glued to the T.V. holding out hope- even weeks later- that someone would be pulled, alive, from the rubble. I recall the outpouring of patriotism, which has since disappeared, and I remember feeling more fragile and vulnerable than at any point in my

I was profoundly affected by the events that happened 6 years ago today. I am thankful for my life, my privilege, my safety, and my freedom to pursue happiness. I thank the men and women who gave their life for our country. I am devastated that I have "September 11th to remember" and I will never forget where I was 6 years ago today.

My question: Do you remember where you were 6 years ago today, and what are you thankful for? Please post in the comments below.

Flea the scene

One of the many things me and Aaron have in common is our love of animals. Between us we have 5 animals; 2 cats, 2 Chihuahuas and 1 Zebra Finch. That said, with animals comes great responsibility. It seems we are always walking, feeding, cleaning up after, bathing, petting, brushing, or talking in great detail about our pets. One might say we are obsessed. We love animals.

I share custody of the two dogs with my ex. To some that may seem weird, but given the situation it's not. Aaron and I just recently found out that we will be getting the dogs full time and will no longer share custody in the coming weeks. We could not be happier about this news, as our house feels empty and our "family" incomplete when the dogs leave every other week.

When we got our dogs back on Sunday they were infested with fleas. When we say infested, it means about 20 fleas per dog. To us that is a HUGE deal, not simply because our dogs were suffering, but also because that puts our other animals at risk. We spent a good part of the night combing through their short hair doing a search and destroy on this small parasite.

I will suspend much of my commentary on parasites, but let me just say this; if the words lice, tick, scabie, or parasite is said in my presence I have an immediate psychosomatic reaction. My skin crawls. Apparently I am not the only person this happens to as I have spent the better part of my night investigating every little itch Aaron has, as he claims he is "under siege by fleas."

At the vet tonight (we brought the dogs after work) we stocked up on Frontline for cats and dogs. Aaron wanted the vet-tech to check his scalp and requested Frontline for humans... poor baby.

Needless to say Aaron and I still love all animals, creatures, and living things except fleas.

Bing

Manny

Manny

Climbing a Mountain

Aaron and I went hiking yesterday. I love the outdoors, and little in this world makes me as happy as being outside. We bought this book a while back that lists out all the mountains in NH, as I want to hike them all (big dreams, I know). Yesterday, it was our goal to scratch another mountain off my list. Mount Cardigan (the east-side loop) in Alexandria NH. The book listed it as a "7" out of "1o" in terms of difficulty. Recently, we did Mt. Osceola, a "9", so I had no worries that we could easily navigate this. Let me tell you, I am so sore this morning that I can barely move! It started off nicely, but then it was so difficult I wanted to turn back. Of course I never let myself say that out loud because rarely do I quit anything, but I sure wanted to. Much of the way to the top was scaling rocks... basically like spider-man. Every muscle in my body ached, my mind remembering the trail marker pointing to the "easier route" that we, of course, decided not to take. We made it to the top.


Once at the top exhausted, hungry, and sweaty we looked at the views and enjoyed the surroundings. Lucky for us we were able to witness some college fraternity pledging the incoming freshman, and we embarked upon a deep sociological conversation about rites of passage and other ritualistic atrocities. Needless to say we got a good laugh at some poor freshman pledge's expense. We settled at the summit for over an hour, had a snack, and revived ourselves before we made the hike back down


It's hard to put into words what I love about hiking so much. I love being frustrated and unsure whether or not I can do something. I love pushing myself mentally and physically to the brink of exhaustion. Even more than that, I love proving to myself that I can do anything, anything I want. Even though I don't always take the easy route, I can make it to the top, and be proud of myself when I pushed through the pain, and conquered what I thought I couldn't.

We took this picture because it looks like a naked person up-side-down...

Us at the summit.

Snake on the way up to the summit.

Me? Blog? Are you kidding?

So, I am just starting to get the point of this blogging business. I have several friends who have blogger accounts, blog daily, and shamefully I read daily. However, I have never thought that I had what it took to blog. "What would I write about?", "Who would even want to read?", "What do I have that is even worth writing about?" Well truth is, a lot. And you're reading aren't you? I guess in all actuality, I will blog for me, for the things I do, and for the things I am thankful for so that I may always remember.