Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! I opened my eyes and tried to clear away the fogginess of my dreams. It took just a few seconds for me to remember where I was and why I was getting up at 5:30 in the morning. I stretched to hit the alarm. Rolling over I saw that my boyfriend was already pulling clothes out of his suitcase and beginning to get dressed. He pulled his favorite yellow sleeveless t-shirt over his head. It always amazed me how only one day at the beach made his skin so perfectly tan. “We don’t want to miss it. Get up. Get up!” I laid there for just a few more moments, smiling inside. I couldn’t show any of my suspicions for fear I would ruin everything.
This was our third vacation together and I had a feeling it would be a special one. We both loved the hustle bustle of Ocean City’s boardwalk and nightlife. So when Jeremy suggested that we take a long weekend and escape to the beach, I was all in. We loaded up the necessities in my aging 95’ Ford Contour and made the 5 hour drive to Maryland. All the while, my mind was replaying the collection of clues that I’d gathered since Jeremy first proposed the trip. My relentless mind couldn’t submerge the hope and excitement I was feeling inside.
After a little more goading from Jeremy, I hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The hotel was nice. Nothing overly fancy but it was clean and that’s all I cared about. I brushed my teeth, popped in my contacts, and slathered some lotion on my freshly sunburned face. I never did have Jeremy’s luck with tanning. When I emerged from the bathroom, Jeremy was standing at the door looking impatient, nervous and wide-awake. “Good morning,” I crooned, hoping to see him relax a little. I slipped on my shorts and tank top, and slid into my flip-flops. He kissed me and opened the hotel room door. We knew we hadn’t missed it.
Traffic was minimal at this time in the morning. The beach was just a block from our hotel. We quietly strolled across the street hand-in-hand, each deep in our own thoughts. I could hear my heart beating. It felt like my whole body was pulsing. “Don’t get excited. Don’t expect anything. This might not be it,” I kept telling myself. We walked past a lofty hotel. I looked up at a few folks standing on their ocean-front balcony. “They are probably waiting to see the same thing,” I thought.
We hit the sand and took off our shoes. The sand was cool now but in a few hours it would be scorching. We continued to walk, more like float, down towards the water. Then Jeremy stopped, reached an arm around me and it began. The horizon turned orange. As the sun rose out of the water, a reflection of orange, yellow, and pink hues stretched out towards us. It was breathtaking. He wanted to see the sunrise and here it was in all its glory. I was sure Jeremy could feel my heart racing as we embraced, watching the colors rise higher in the sky. “Are you sure you love me?” I heard him murmur. I nodded my head but didn’t speak a word. My voice wasn’t functioning. He pulled out a small white box and flipped open the top. That’s when the tears began. This was really happening. He told me how much he loved me and, abiding by tradition, he got down on one knee. The look on his face is locked in my memory forever. He was so serious, so close to tears, so nervous. He asked me to marry him. My reply was, “YES, of course.” We spent the next few minutes hugging and laughing. We walked along the edge of the water and collected some shells. We needed some keepsakes to help us remember this special sun-lit morning.
Call it woman’s intuition. Call it wishful thinking. Somehow I sensed it. Sure we had many talks about being together forever. We both knew it felt right, like our lives were meant to come together. I had a year left of college and I thought maybe he would wait until after graduation. But, when you know, you know. Call it what you will. I call it love, my very own fairytale.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
The Farm
Every spring I escape to a place that is near and dear to my heart. This place is where my entire family gathers to eat an amazing meal and create priceless memories. For one day everyone abandons all of their other plans. No excuses are accepted. You will be shunned if you are not in the farm house kitchen by 12:00 noon on the Saturday before Easter. Okay, so we aren’t that serious but it’s your mistake if you are late because that just pushes you to the very back of the lengthy buffet line. That is not a place where you want to be. Every surface of the kitchen is covered with a delicious looking dish. Since the line wraps around the kitchen and dining room you are able see, smell and salivate until you get your plate and utensils.
The farm belongs to my late Uncle Bill and Aunt Betty. They built the new house in 1973, a year after the massive flood destroyed their river-front farmhouse. From what I am told, that flood wreaked havoc on many homes and businesses, my aunt and uncle’s homestead being one of them. Their new house sits back about a half mile from the river. The remains of their old stone farmhouse are visible as you turn into their driveway.
I am sure the farm holds many precious memories for my parent’s generation; it also holds a special nostalgia for my cousins and me. At the time they lived in Delaware and only came to Pennsylvania a few times a year. So when we got together it was bound to be a good time. With 30+ acres as our playground, we were able to run wild without scrutinizing parent supervision. We flew kites until they were just a speck in the sky. We ran through the fields, unraveling more and more string until the kites and wind overtook our measly strength. Then we were off to a new adventure. Sometimes we would run on top of the hay bales pretending that the ground was quicksand. All was well until pudgy Paul Jr. fell between two bales and none of us could dig him out. That was the last time he played Quicksand with us. We had some really serious Easter egg hunts on that farm too. We usually came out of it with grass stained clothes and huge bags of candy. It was only that one time that Paul Jr. ended up with a fat lip. Nobody ever seemed to know how that happened. I remember when we got a little older, maybe 11 or 12, we wanted to learn how to drive a car. This adventure did require adult supervision. (We had to get the keys somehow.) We would hop in the driver’s seat with any willing grown-up beside us, hit the pedal and bounce down the stone lane towards the barn. It was a straight, half mile road leading to adulthood.
Each year our adventures seemed to get a little less wild. Games of Quicksand were now being played by own younger cousins, while we sat on the porch listening to music on own Walkmans. We didn’t care much about driving anymore because most of us had our license. We still enjoyed seeing each other but our visits were different.
Now we are moving into a new phase. Our generation will be bringing our own kids to the farm next Easter. Although they will only be babies, my cousins and I already know what this farm will mean to our young children.
The farm belongs to my late Uncle Bill and Aunt Betty. They built the new house in 1973, a year after the massive flood destroyed their river-front farmhouse. From what I am told, that flood wreaked havoc on many homes and businesses, my aunt and uncle’s homestead being one of them. Their new house sits back about a half mile from the river. The remains of their old stone farmhouse are visible as you turn into their driveway.
I am sure the farm holds many precious memories for my parent’s generation; it also holds a special nostalgia for my cousins and me. At the time they lived in Delaware and only came to Pennsylvania a few times a year. So when we got together it was bound to be a good time. With 30+ acres as our playground, we were able to run wild without scrutinizing parent supervision. We flew kites until they were just a speck in the sky. We ran through the fields, unraveling more and more string until the kites and wind overtook our measly strength. Then we were off to a new adventure. Sometimes we would run on top of the hay bales pretending that the ground was quicksand. All was well until pudgy Paul Jr. fell between two bales and none of us could dig him out. That was the last time he played Quicksand with us. We had some really serious Easter egg hunts on that farm too. We usually came out of it with grass stained clothes and huge bags of candy. It was only that one time that Paul Jr. ended up with a fat lip. Nobody ever seemed to know how that happened. I remember when we got a little older, maybe 11 or 12, we wanted to learn how to drive a car. This adventure did require adult supervision. (We had to get the keys somehow.) We would hop in the driver’s seat with any willing grown-up beside us, hit the pedal and bounce down the stone lane towards the barn. It was a straight, half mile road leading to adulthood.
Each year our adventures seemed to get a little less wild. Games of Quicksand were now being played by own younger cousins, while we sat on the porch listening to music on own Walkmans. We didn’t care much about driving anymore because most of us had our license. We still enjoyed seeing each other but our visits were different.
Now we are moving into a new phase. Our generation will be bringing our own kids to the farm next Easter. Although they will only be babies, my cousins and I already know what this farm will mean to our young children.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Modern Day Fairytale
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! I opened my eyes and tried to clear away the fogginess of my dreams. It took just a few seconds for me to remember where I was and why I was getting up at 5:30 in the morning. I stretched to hit the alarm. Rolling over I saw that my boyfriend was already pulling clothes out of his suitcase and beginning to get dressed. He pulled his favorite yellow sleeveless t-shirt over his head. “We don’t want to miss it. Get up. Get up!” I lay there for just a few more moments, smiling inside. I couldn’t show any of my suspicions for fear I would ruin everything.
I hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The hotel was nice. Nothing overly fancy but it was clean and that’s all I cared about. I brushed my teeth, popped in my contacts, and slathered some lotion on my freshly sunburned face. When I emerged from the bathroom, Jeremy was standing at the door looking impatient, nervous and wide-awake. “Good morning,” I crooned, hoping to see him relax a little. I slipped on my shorts and tank top, and slid into my flip-flops. He kissed me and opened the hotel room door. We knew we hadn’t missed it.
We walked the one block toward the beach. We strolled quietly hand-in-hand, each deep in our own thoughts. I could hear my heart beating. It felt like my whole body was pulsing. “Don’t get excited. Don’t expect anything. This might not be it,” I kept telling myself. We walked past a large hotel. I looked up at a few folks standing on their ocean-front balcony. “They are probably waiting to see the same thing,” I thought.
We hit the sand and took off our shoes. The sand was cool now but in a few hours it would be scorching. We continued to walk, more like float, down towards the water. Then Jeremy stopped, reached an arm around me and it began. The horizon turned orange. As the sun rose out of the water, a reflection of orange, yellow, and pink hues stretched out towards us. It was breathtaking. I was sure Jeremy could feel my heart racing as we embraced for a few minutes watching the sunrise. Then I know he said some sweet things and told me how much he loved me. I remember him asking me if I was sure that I loved him. I nodded my head but didn’t speak a word. My voice wasn’t functioning. He pulled out a small white box and flipped open the top. That’s when the tears began. This was really happening. He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. The look on his face is locked in my memory forever. He was so serious, so close to tears, so nervous. No reason for him to be nervous at all. My reply was, “YES, of course.” We spent the next few minutes hugging and laughing. We walked along the edge of the water and collected some shells. We needed some mementoes to help us remember this occasion. So there it was. The moment I’d dreamt of since I was a little girl. It was truly romantic. My very own fairytale.
July 15, 2005
I hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The hotel was nice. Nothing overly fancy but it was clean and that’s all I cared about. I brushed my teeth, popped in my contacts, and slathered some lotion on my freshly sunburned face. When I emerged from the bathroom, Jeremy was standing at the door looking impatient, nervous and wide-awake. “Good morning,” I crooned, hoping to see him relax a little. I slipped on my shorts and tank top, and slid into my flip-flops. He kissed me and opened the hotel room door. We knew we hadn’t missed it.
We walked the one block toward the beach. We strolled quietly hand-in-hand, each deep in our own thoughts. I could hear my heart beating. It felt like my whole body was pulsing. “Don’t get excited. Don’t expect anything. This might not be it,” I kept telling myself. We walked past a large hotel. I looked up at a few folks standing on their ocean-front balcony. “They are probably waiting to see the same thing,” I thought.
We hit the sand and took off our shoes. The sand was cool now but in a few hours it would be scorching. We continued to walk, more like float, down towards the water. Then Jeremy stopped, reached an arm around me and it began. The horizon turned orange. As the sun rose out of the water, a reflection of orange, yellow, and pink hues stretched out towards us. It was breathtaking. I was sure Jeremy could feel my heart racing as we embraced for a few minutes watching the sunrise. Then I know he said some sweet things and told me how much he loved me. I remember him asking me if I was sure that I loved him. I nodded my head but didn’t speak a word. My voice wasn’t functioning. He pulled out a small white box and flipped open the top. That’s when the tears began. This was really happening. He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. The look on his face is locked in my memory forever. He was so serious, so close to tears, so nervous. No reason for him to be nervous at all. My reply was, “YES, of course.” We spent the next few minutes hugging and laughing. We walked along the edge of the water and collected some shells. We needed some mementoes to help us remember this occasion. So there it was. The moment I’d dreamt of since I was a little girl. It was truly romantic. My very own fairytale.
July 15, 2005
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
The Garden Gobbler
Fuchsia petals stand out against the dark mulched bank
Impatient blossoms growing fuller everyday
A welcoming view when you pull up the drive
New buds ready to expose their beautiful core
Then… an intruder!
The Garden Gobbler bounces softly
Sniff
Nibble
Nibble
A tasty treat
A car appears
The cotton-tailed prowler scrambles aimlessly
Darts into the tall grass
Waiting and watching
Coast is clear
The Garden Gobbler strikes again and again
Fuchsia petals nibbled down to nothing
A full belly
An empty garden
Impatient blossoms growing fuller everyday
A welcoming view when you pull up the drive
New buds ready to expose their beautiful core
Then… an intruder!
The Garden Gobbler bounces softly
Sniff
Nibble
Nibble
A tasty treat
A car appears
The cotton-tailed prowler scrambles aimlessly
Darts into the tall grass
Waiting and watching
Coast is clear
The Garden Gobbler strikes again and again
Fuchsia petals nibbled down to nothing
A full belly
An empty garden
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Woman's Best Friend
Man's best friend or woman's best friend? Either way, I can bet these furry companions are like no other friend you have.
How do I love thee, let me count thy ways.
Dog's listen to your problems without judgement. They don't mind when you clumsily drop half your dinner on the floor. If you need to pass gas, well you know you're in good company. Your dog will love you unconditionally no matter how often you vacuum the living room floor. They don't even notice when you go 2 weeks without shaving your legs. If you can name a friend who will tolerate these actions, then you are one lucky individual. If you can't, then I recommend taking a stroll through your local animal shelter. It is there where you will find your truest friend.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Double the Excitement
...and double the diapers. Recently my husband and I found out that we are going to be the proud parents of twins. These being our first children, we are blinded with excitement. As our doctor put it, "Ignorance is bliss."
I am due December 9 which will make the holidays more interesting this year. Or maybe the better word is more chaotic.
On the plus side, the holidays = more family in town. More family in town = more help with the babies. Sounds like we couldn't have planned it better!
At this point we do not know the genders of the babies but we hope to know by the end of the month at our next appointment. We don't have a preference as to what they are, so long as they are healthy.
So far the pregnancy has been great. I haven't even had a single mood swing! Okay, okay. Maybe 2, but when people no longer say hello to me and immediately begin to fondle my belly, it makes me a little annoyed. I am a person. Please look at my face and say hello before you start rubbing away! Maybe the other time I was a little hormonal. But that cashier at Dunkin Donuts was moving like molasses and these babies needed a blueberry muffin ASAP. Perhaps I should go apologize and buy another muffin, just so there are no hard feelings...
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