A post 7 months in the making

I’ve been quiet on this space of mine for most of 2010 and I still can’t believe seven months have passed since my last post.  I’ve thought about writing many times during those months because the truth is, I’ve had lots to say and to process.  And that’s actually why I think I’ve stayed so quiet.  I’ve asked myself countless questions: where do I begin?  how much do I tell?  how can I accurately express the gravity of these things so close to my heart?  I haven’t had any easy answers to these questions, but about a month ago Andrew Peterson’s new album Counting Stars came out and the more and more I listened to one particular song, the more and more I knew that’s where I wanted to start this post…

Andrew sings in “Dancing in the Minefields”

…we said our vows and took the leap

we went dancing in the minefields

we went sailing in the storms

and it was harder than we dreamed

but I believe that’s what the promise is for…

Andrew’s referring to his marriage to Jamie.  No doubt the Petersons have sailed through many more storms and danced through many more minefields in their fifteen marriage than we have in our short two year marriage, but his words still resonate with me.  Marriage has been absolutely wonderful: I feel extremely blessed every day to be married to my best friend, to be partnered in life with such a loving man who is so full of integrity and who has a desire to do good, to know that my husband is my biggest fan (and I his).  But, it’s been harder than we ever dreamed – but that’s what the promise is for.

The being married part hasn’t been the part that’s been harder than we dreamed.  It’s the life part that’s hit us hard.  Moving a million miles away from everything familiar, the uncertainty of the next job and the next home, and struggling with subfertility for over a year – these have been been much harder than we ever dreamed.

Shortly after 2010 began, a blog that I stumbled across posed a challenge to its readers: choose one word to focus on for the new year.  Without giving it much thought, faith immediately sprung to mind.  It was January, the middle of a very cold and very snowy winter, and I was weary – not to mention worried.  Sweet CK had been tirelessly applying to 20 or so jobs as his current contract was drawing to a close.  We were super hopeful that ANY DAY someone from one of the many jobs he applied for in the US would contact him for an interview, but the positive email or phone call never came.  January 2010 also marked one year since we decided we’d like to begin a family, though a year later, I was left with little hope of it ever happening.  So, faith seemed an easy word to focus on: to lay my worries and fears at the foot of the cross and just have faith that WHATEVER happened would be ok?  That sounded like a fabulous plan for the new year.  Afterall, I needed something to cling to because I felt as though I were falling into a pit of despair.

I heard Andrew Peterson talk about despair (I think he tied it into The Lord of Rings, so these thoughts might be Tolkien’s, or they might be paraphrased quotes from the book – I don’t know) when introducing one of this songs and he said, “Despair is a simple mistake because despair assumes that you know the end of the story, that you know that the story will end badly.  At no point does any of us know that; there’s always a flicker of hope.”  Of course, I didn’t hear this while I was feeling despair – but I pray I will remember it in the future.  Our story wasn’t going to end badly.  In fact, little did I know, it had just begun…

And so, to make this very long story a tad bit shorter, here’s what has happened:

In February CK was offered another two year contract at the University of Reading.  This wasn’t what we had planned, it wasn’t what we wanted, but we were grateful that the offer came.  Job security for two more years, a bit of a pay raise, and a shift from post-doctoral researcher to lecturer – we count them all as good!

In March we found out we were expecting a baby – right in the midst of fertility testing and our first appointment with a midwife was just one week before our previously scheduled appointment with the fertility specialist.

In May we found out we would have to move out of our apartment unexpectedly.  Quite miraculously, a horrible situation turned out wonderfully and we were able to move into the garage apartment of a couple from our church.  It’s fabulous, though super tiny, and cheap, and has an office where I can play (scrapbook), and it’s close to a wonderful part of town.

In June we were able to go back to the US for three and a half glorious weeks!  I got to meet my sweet nephew and was able to celebrate my mom’s birthday with her.  I also got all the root beer I could drink AND got a wonderful new camera for all the pictures of I’m going to take of this sweet baby.

In July we found out the sweet baby I’m carrying is a boy, we both felt him kick and move, and we celebrated two blissful, though hard, years of marriage.

In August we FINALLY came to the end of our two month struggle with renewing our visas – though the UK no longer calls them visas.  Talk about living in uncertainty!  But, I know now more than ever that my God is so BIG, so strong and so mighty, and there’s nothing my God cannot do (clap clap).  He did move mountains and finally, last Friday, everything is in order and we are legally here until October 2012.

“Dancing in the Minefields” ends with these words

…we bear the light of the Son of Man

so there’s nothing left to fear

so I’ll walk with you in the Shadowlands

till the shadows disappear

’cause he promised not to leave us

and His promises are true

so in the face of all this chaos,

baby, I can dance with you

And I say Amen!  If you’d like to see Andrew Peterson’s video from “Dancing in the Minefields” (or just listen to the song – it really is beautiful), here it is:

 

December is upon us!

Traditions are important to me and that is probably because Linda is my mother, who is so good at traditions – both in big and small ways.  I love that traditions are so much a part of my childhood: bacon and egg breakfasts on the first day of school, ice cream sundaes on the last day of school, going to Burger King on Boy Scout night.

I can’t remember a time when decorating the Christmas tree didn’t mean Pizza Hut and Disco Noel, but I know it had to start sometime. We would go to the tree lot as a family (because the only kind of Christmas tree is a LIVE Christmas tree!), order Pizza Hut (which was only reserved for the most special occasions in the Mix household), and put on Disco Noel (a record Linda got when she worked at Eckerds).  We’d decorate the tree and build a manger out of Lincoln Logs while eating our thin and crispy pizza and dancing around to a disco-fied “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.”  My brother and I aren’t very close, but I think we both treasure the traditions of our growing up that surround the selection and decorating of our family’s Christmas tree.

On our first Christmas together, Matthew joined the Mixes in the most precious of Christmas traditions: the tree decorating!

December 2006: Matching polos and elf hats! Matthew is always the good sport!

Both my brother and nephew were “home for the holidays” and it was such a pleasure to invite Matthew into our world and share our traditions with him!  There was Pizza Hut and Disco Noel and story after story about the ornaments we’d find in the various boxes.  And while it was so great to bring Matthew into my family’s tradition, I want us to have our own traditions – unique to our life together as a family.   I like traditions for their continuity:  so many things change from year to year and it’s nice to always count on something remaining the same.

Last year, we did a lot of our Christmas shopping for each other in Pound£and (our budget was, after all, only £20).  I got Matt the gel pens that he loves and he got me Winnie the Pooh socks, padded envelopes, reindeer coasters, and colored pens!  While we’re at a place where we can spend a bit more than £20 on each other this Christmas, I think I’m still going to suggest a trip to Pound£and – for tradition’s sake!

Of course I want the traditions Matthew and I create to happen naturally, but I will be very mindful this year, and in years to come, for opportunities to build traditions together.

 

Thankful Thoughts

I broke my blog roll yesterday when I didn’t post.  I meant to, but the time just slipped away between phone calls with Matthew and episodes of Glee BUT I had planned to write the first post in a series for Thanksgiving week about being thankful.  Oh, well…

 

It’s hard not to be cliche and immediately rattle off my husband when I count my blessings or think of things that overflow my heart with gratitude.  Walking home from work yesterday, I tried to think of something really specific that I’m thankful for about Matthew.  There are so many, many things that I love and admire and am grateful for in my husband, but selfishly, I’m forever grateful that he’s made me feel comfortable in my own skin (that’s a cliche, too, and I hate to use it but it really fits here).   This summer I listened to a recording of a chapel service that Charlie Peacock was speaking at where he was addressing the very issue of feeling comfortable in one’s own skin: how it’s necessary in order to really follow Jesus and to see yourself as the person God created.  He said, “Being comfortable in your own skin means, ‘I don’t have to add something to myself to be all right,’” and instantly that resonated with me.  I had been married for just one year when I heard that and I really understood what Charlie was trying to communicate because I was actually, for the first time in my life, feeling comfortable in my own skin because of Matthew.  Charlie went on to say, “Marriage does this better than anything.”  AMEN!  I turned 30 this summer and for the first time in my life I was feeling that I didn’t have to add anything to myself to be all right.  I didn’t have to fit into a certain size, I didn’t have to worry about covering blemishes, I didn’t have to hide my messes, my education didn’t matter, my successes and failures didn’t matter.  Matthew loves me so completely and perfectly that I feel (and know) that I don’t have to add (or lose) anything to myself to make me all right, to make me more valuable.  And while I know this, I also know it’s  not permission to stay trapped in my own weaknesses.  Moreover, Matthew’s love and our marriage have been catalysts to make me want to work on my weaknesses.  I am grateful for a husband who makes me feel so wholly loved and treasured that I feel comfortable in my own skin.

 

I am grateful for Matthew!

 

 

 

 

My Engageiversary

November is pumpkin flavored things and cooler weather and crunchy leaves and Thanksgiving and Christmas music and Christmas decorations and the beginning of the excitement that just continues to build until the end of the year.  But, two years ago, it became even more than all those things when Matthew asked me to marry him:

 

 

My answer? Of course I will. I didn’t say, “Yes, a thousand times, yes,” like Jane did when Mr. Bingley proposed (even though that is what I rehearsed in my mind a thousand times).  I said, “Of course I will,” because there was nothing else in the world that I had ever wanted so much in my life as to be his wife.  It was a no-brainer! Of course I will.

YES was easier to write in sand.

 

When we got engaged, we didn’t know what our future held and the only thing we were certain about, really, was that everything was uncertain.  Matt was finishing his PhD and applying to a million jobs and we thought maybe, just maybe, we’d end up with a new start in a new state (one that actually had fall weather in the fall!).  We didn’t have any idea that in (less than) a year’s time we’d be living an ocean away and that all our wedding gifts would still be boxed up and unused in a storage unit.  Not only would I marry him, though, I would follow him anywhere.   Of course I would!

 

Tonight, as an ocean and six hours separate us, I’m trying hard not to eat an entire cheesecake while he’s busy being a discussant for someone’s paper at a fancy economics conference in San Antonio.  I’ve had to reminisce about the proposal by myself today.  I’ve looked through our photos from that day and read the blog posts on my own and watched Jim and Pam’s wedding again while I ate lunch.  And I’ve thought about how we’re kind of where we were two years ago: staring at a pretty uncertain future.  Matt is already back on the job market and applying to a million jobs and it’s anything but clear as to where we’re going to be in another year’s time.  As much as I miss America and would love to have dinner with my husband at the Cracker Barrel tonight (for that’s where we went with Linda for dinner on the night we got engaged), I will follow him anywhere – even if it’s not back to the US.  When I answered his question two years ago, I was also answering a lifetime of future questions.  My answer will always be an easy one; I married the man I respect the most in this world, a man who I know God chose for me, and so whether the question is, “Will you iron my shirt?” or “Will you be ok if we don’t move back to the US?”, the answer will always be: Of course I will.

 

[For the record, Matthew has never asked me to iron his shirt.  We do not even own an iron, though I wish we did.]

 

13 Months & and a lady detective

I always thought it was silly for parents to talk about their kids’ ages in months after said kids reached their first birthdays. But, here I am, still thinking about my marriage in terms of months even though we had our first anniversary.  And so, I will allow myself to continuing counting the months until next July just as parents count the months until the kid is twenty-four months.

Today we’re been married for thirteen months!  A whole year and a month.  When I really think about it, I know thirteen months is silly – it’s a drop in the bucket, so to speak, especially when I consider how two very dear friends of mine celebrate their tenth anniversary in just a few days.  Ten years?  Now that is something.  Ten years ago, I stood  as a twenty year old in a light purple dress and the most beautiful (and expensive) shoes I have ever bought hoping I wouldn’t fidget or get light headed, and watched as my dear friends said, “I do.”  They were twenty-two, just two years my senior, but I thought they were so old and wise and as it was the first wedding I had ever been in (I do not count the obligatory flower girl in my aunt’s wedding when I was 7) and the first wedding of someone truly important to me, I tried to imagine what it would be like for me when my turn came.

But, of course, the wedding was just a day.  It was a great day, but it was just one day.  The marriage has been great and I think that is part of the excitement I feel each month when the nineteenth rolls around.  Just as a new mother marks each month of her new baby’s life with excitement and wonder of what new milestones are being reached, as a new bride, I live for the nineteenth of each month – to mark each month with excitement and wonder of what marriage has been – being in this life with my best friend and being known by someone so incredibly well.  It’s exciting to keep adding a month under our marriage belts and I think it will be sad once month twenty-four rolls around and I have to shift into simply counting years.  I bet the same is true for that mother whose kid turns two and then it’s no longer twenty-five or thirty-two months, but just years.

One of the greatest aspects of marriage for me during these last thirteen months has been being known and how quickly it’s happened.  In December, Linda and Matt were in Pound£and (yes, where everything is a pound) and looking at Winnie the Pooh socks for me.  Linda would’ve (rightly) chosen the pink Pooh socks with polka dots, but I unwrapped the “jailhouse” Pooh socks (black and white stripes, you guys!) from Matt on Christmas.  We had  been married just five months that Christmas when Matt picked the socks that weren’t my first choice and while I tease him every time I wear those jailhouse socks, I still love that he got them for me; he had his reasons and he chose them because he had already gotten me a pair of pink Piglet socks and didn’t want to duplicate the colors.  I have since informed him that I can never have too many pink pairs of socks and he understands.  And, he understood enough about me to secretly squirrel enough money away (I am pretty tight with the purse strings) to have enough to secretly go into town when I thought he was in a meeting with his boss.  There he went to the expensive card store and chose THE perfect first anniversary card (a Forever Friends card that was relationship AND occasion specific!) for me!  He also secretly got me a picture frame (as I love picture frames) and my favorite chocolate bars.  He knows me and being known feels great.  He knows that my blog and flickr site are important to me and reads every word I write (which means more than I could ever express).  He knows the look I get on my face when I’m reading a SouleMama blog entry and will ask me what’s new – and he’ll listen and remember!  He asks about what I’m reading and seems genuinely interested in my too-long plot summaries.  And so, those jailhouse socks are a symbol to me – a symbol of how far we have both come in a short thirteen months and it is exciting to think about where we’ll be in thirteen years.

Now, I will quickly tell you about the latest book I’ve read: Alexander McCall Smith’s The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency.  I remember seeing this book for sale in Barnes and Noble and in Target.  It never piqued my interest and I never even wanted to read the back of the book to see what it was all about.  It was chosen for the English Teachers’ Book Club when I taught at Palm Bay High (though I was pretty much one of the most anti-social teachers at PBHS and never went to one book club meeting) and I never picked this book up until the day before we left for Paris, August 4, 2009.  I knew I would finish A Thousand Splendid Suns whilst in Paris and I didn’t want to be stuck on a 7 hour bus ride with nothing to read.  Since I work in a library, I thought I’d be able to find something good to read as my back up book BUT the university library is sorely lacking in good, modern fiction books.  I mean, SORELY!  (Though there are two of the Harry Potter books in CHINESE! on the shelves.)  There was The Other Boleyn Girl, but I just couldn’t bring myself to check it out (for two reasons: the spine was seriously crooked and it was a bit too long to be my easy back up read).  When I came to the P section, I seriously considered a Terry Prachett book, but I kept moving toward the end of the alphabet and found Smith’s book.  At an easy 233 pages, I thought it was worth a try.  Plus, it was set in Africa and that excited me.

I didn’t know what to think of the book at first.  In fact, I was actually thinking that I didn’t like it when I mentioned it to one of my colleagues (we have THE SAME taste in books and find we’re always reading the same books).  Her face lit up and I found out that she loves the series.  The series?  I had no idea there was more than one Ladies’ Detective Agency books and learned through my conversation with this colleague that there are ten books AND a television mini series.  And so I decided to reserve judgment since S liked them so much.

I’m glad I continued reading with an open mind as I turned out to really enjoy the book.  I enjoyed it largely because of its African setting – the people and customs are just fun.  And, fat, thirty-five year old, unassuming, private detective Precious Ramostwe is so likable and lovable.  Our library doesn’t have any other books in the series, otherwise I’d probably check out a couple more, though I probably wouldn’t read all the other nine.  It was enjoyable and I liked the short, staccato-like sentences and story-telling.

 

One Whole Year

As the days closed in on the end of our first year together as husband and wife, I didn’t want the 19th to actually get here.  I felt like I had been racing straight ahead into the 19th, anticipating it so much, counting down the days, envisioning a weekend of reminiscing – but then, last week, I wanted to pause July.  I didn’t want this first year to end.  I felt as if we’ve been suspended in this magical bubble from the time “Gabriel’s Oboe” began playing and I stepped through the doors of the church and I thought that as soon as the 19th rolled around again everything would be normal and the magic would dissipate, much like when the clock struck midnight and only mice and a pumpkin were left.  But it’s the 20th now and I feel every bit as suspended in that magical bubble as I did one year ago.  

 

Our anniversary weekend was perfect.  Clark Kent came home early from work on Friday and we took the time to just be – to enjoy each other’s company, to lay head to foot on the couch and talk, to drink tea and coffee and tell each other what we were doing at a particular time last year, to look through our wedding album, to watch the video footage.  There were amazing flowers (that far exceeded my hopes!  Hydrangeas, and roses, and peonies, OH MY!), and chocolates (from Thornton’s – my absolute favorite), and breakfast in bed, and home cooked Jamie Oliver beef stew, and a perfect First Anniversary picture frame, and a home made four layer vanilla buttermilk anniversary cake with raspberry and rose cream filling and buttercream frosting, and toasts with Welch’s Sparkling Grape Juice and Coke and tea and coffee in MR & MRS mugs.  And there were traditional paper gifts that were so perfect that I cried.  We wore our bridesmaid skirt and groomsman tie.  Our rings got cleaned. We had a celebratory lunch at McDonald’s. AND AND AND, we sang our wedding hymn in church!  How could it have been so absolutely perfect?

 

It’s no wonder we’re still suspended in a magical bubble when every day with Clark Kent is like a fairy tale!  Yesterday ended with a rainstorm (which reminded us of our honeymoon!  Oh, how it rained everyday and oh, how we both loved it!) and a beautiful and brilliant rainbow outside our third story window.  We rented He’s Just Not That Into You and ate some chocolate and anniversary cake and drank some “champagne” and I cried when Jennifer Aniston’s character said, “Yes, of course I will,” when Ben Affleck’s character asked her to marry him.  Because, you guys, that is exactly what I said when CK asked me to marry him (even though I wanted to say what Jane says when Mr. Bingley asks her – “Yes, a thousand times, yes.”).

 

And so, we embark on the second year together, still suspended in a magical bubble.  I suspect when you marry Prince Charming, you’re suspended in magic for a lifetime!

 

For more details of the magical Paper Anniversary, the photos are here. 

 

One more month!

Today marks eleven months since we said, “I do!”  While I want to run head long into July 19 so I can wear the bridesmaid skirt that I should have bought in a bigger size, get my ring cleaned, go out to eat, and give CK his paper gift (and get mine!), I don’t want this first year to be over.  I felt the same way last weekend when I turned 30.  I spent years (and then the months and then the days) leading up to June 14 anticipating (greatly) turning 30 and then it happened and all of a sudden, I was 30!  It wasn’t anti-climatic by any means; it was everything I hoped for and more than I expected.  I know it’ll be the same way next month – that it won’t be anti-climatic, but everything I hope for and more than I expect!  AND, when it’s all over and July 20th is here, we’ll still have our Parisian anniversary trip the first week of August to anticipate.  I’ll just be a little sad that the first year will be over, that’s all.  But (and there’s a big BUT), I will be confident that each year of our marriage will build upon and be better than our first one (and that’s what I’m hoping for my thirties, too).  

 

We decided to get involved with the Marriage Course for the 6 weeks leading up to our anniversary.  It’s a program that runs in the Anglican church and engaged couples are encouraged to go through the Marriage Preparation Course and then further down the road, several years into their marriage, they’re invited to come back on the Marriage Course.  Both CK and I thoroughly enjoyed all the marriage preparation we did in the months leading up to our wedding – marriage counseling, a two day seminar at Suntree UMC, and the weekend Engaged Encounter – and we were both eager to end our first year of marriage working on bettering something I already think can’t get any better (how wonderfully wrong I am!).

 

Smallville on the Enterprise

I married a real life nerd and I count my blessings everyday!  A nerd who loves Superman and all things Star Trek.  I know this story gets old, I feel like I’ve told it a million times, but…

 

Back when Matt and I were “just friends” in high school, I thought he was a cute nerd and boldly told him one day, “You remind me of Clark Kent!”  He adds to the story and tells me that he responded with, “Does that mean I look like Dean Cain?”  He says that I laughed after he asked me that.  While I don’t remember that, I do remember calling him Clark Kent for the rest of high school.  He was that “mild mannered” and polite and sweet and brilliant nerd. 

 

Because of our history, I thought it was cute that Matt became a Smallville fan (especially after he confessed that he only really became interested in Superman/Clark Kent after I called him CK for so many years).  Though I never watched Smallville and always considered it to be an inferior WB show, I didn’t fault Matt for liking it.  BUT, I was never going to be interested in it.  

 

Now, Star Trek was another story.  I so wanted to understand and join in his enthusiasm for the “final frontier.”  But, I just couldn’t get behind it.  I thought it was endearing that Matt could link (seemingly) EVERY actor or actress in the world back to either an episode from any of the many series or to one of the many movies, but I found the show (any of the snippets I had ever seen or heard explained) so incredibly boring.  Though I was thrilled to death when I won the Enterprise phone in an eBay auction and can say, “Make it so, Number One,” every so often, I was never going to be interested in it. 

 

It took less than ten months of marriage to prove me wrong, though.  On both accounts.

 

Matt brought season 7 of Smallville home with him having ordered it from Amazon when he was visiting Florida.  I decided to watch a few episodes with him – with a book and my iPod near by in case I just couldn’t handle it.  But, I found myself drawn in rather quickly – even though most of season 7 is ridiculous!  (I still can’t believe there was so much cleavage around Smallville and Metropolis!  Who knew?)  When season 7 ended, I was prepared to spend $40 to download season 8 on iTunes.  Fortunately, though, Matt found season 8 for FREE online (watch-smallville.org).  It’s been lots of fun watching together (however, we’ll both breathe a sigh of relief when we finally wrap up season 8.  We’ve become slaves to Smallville!  We’re ready to get back to our evening routine of reading).  I have become interested. 

 

AND, then there’s Star Trek.  Let me again state that I TRIED to get into Star Trek.   That summer, the one when we started dating, I went to Blockbuster and asked the movie guy which movie to get.  I rented The Wrath of Khan and tried so hard to like it.  It was impossible.  I was disappointed.  But, times have changed and now we both have JJ Abrams to thank for getting me into the final frontier.  We saw the latest movie on opening weekend – the first movie date we have had since we got married, believe it or not!  I hesitate to say I loved the movie, but there were certain things I loved.  Like Spock.  Oh, boy!  I am a Spock fan!  I loved the music (of course, I did love Alias).  I loved the fact that Amanda Foreman (also known as Megan Rotundi and Carrie Flinkman) made an appearance and Greg Grunberg’s voice guest starred.  Did I mention that I loved Spock?  Most of all, I loved the fact that I was interested and enthusiastic and excited and could actually share that with Matt.  I’m not saying that I’m a full fledged fan, but I have become interested. 

 

Both of my husband’s nerdy obsessions have slowly crept into my life.  When we’re watching Smallville and Kal-El/Clark Kent begins to bleed, I might make the comment, “I thought Kryptonians’ blood was green.”  Matt, smiling, patiently corrects me, “No, you’re thinking of Vulcans.  Their blood is green.”  I most recently asked him to make me some Romulan Ale (blue Kool-Aid) and had a dream that Lois was locked in a washing machine.  

 

Maybe now it’s only a matter of time before we’re discussing the mysteries of Rambaldi and Felicity’s love triangle.

 

We’re up to ten.

It’s been ten months.  As I folded CK’s undershirts this morning, fresh and warm from the dryer, I tried to relive that one special day back in July, ten months ago.  I know it’s just been ten months, but I hope in ten years my heart still skips a beat when I realize it’s the 19th of any month.  I hope that on the ten year mark folding CK’s undershirts makes my heart swell with love just as it does today, on the ten month mark.

 

There Was A Country Walk

Along with the Wind in the Willows exhibit at the River and Rowing Museum, a country walk topped Linda’s agenda.  She did extensive research on nearby country walks and I chanced upon a book in the library that detailed all sorts of walks along the Thames.  So, on the day after she arrived, we packed a delicious picnic and headed out, guidebook in hand, to embark on our Thames Path walk.

 

We rode the train to Pangbourne, a 9 minute ride from Reading.  Kenneth Grahame (author of The Wind in the Willows) lived the last several years of his life in Pangbourne in the Church Cottage right next to the town’s lock up and St James the Less Church (which is where his funeral was held).  So, once we arrived in Pangbourne, we made certain to visit the church and photograph the old town Lock Up.

 

Though the book that detailed the 4 mile walk from Pangbourne to Goring (where the next train station is) was very helpful, there were little signs everywhere indicating the Thames Path – so it would have been very difficult to get lost or off track.  Crossing the bridge in Pangbourne to get to the other side of the Thames (which is where the Path was) afforded the first view of a willow.  Linda was VERY excited!  Willow branches were used to decorate the church for Grahame’s funeral so many years ago and it was neat to imagine that the branches came from the very willows we found.

 

I think I probably tired the quickest along our walk!  I mean, four miles is a lot – isn’t it?!  Anyway, how happy we were all to rest on the “earthen stairs” and enjoy a picnic of egg salad sandwiches, ham and stilton potato chips, and shortbread cookies with belgian chocolate chunks.  We saved our apples for another stop along the path.  And while the Thames Path might infer a path along the river, you are not always in sight of the water.  The path twists and turns through the country and woods, so we got to see lots of interesting sights – cows and horses, bunnies and sheep!

 

The following is video footage from our country walk.  Linda and I have the same camera, so I taught her how to use the video function and she videoed part of the Thames Path walking up on a church along the way (not the church of St. James the Less).  Clark Kent, endlessly obsessed with bumble bees, videoed a “gigantic British bumble bee” in the church yard.  And I tried to capture a bit of the path.

 

All the pictures from the day’s walking adventure can be seen here.

 

And, today marks the ninth month since we became Mr & Mrs.  Yesterday was a wonderful reunion for us.  Clark Kent left on the 8th to go to FL for a week.  He was due to fly home on the 15th.  When he arrived at the airport, he was informed that his flight had been cancelled and he was subsequently rescheduled on a flight for the 17th, getting him in just yesterday.  The reason only one of us went home was the money.  Plane tickets are so expensive!  However, after this excruciating separation in our first year, we have decided that we both go, or we both stay.  We will not voluntarily separate again!  So, our day was spent relaxing, unpacking, talking and catching up on the last ten days of our lives, and relishing each other’s company!  More of the same is on the agenda for today – as soon as he wakes up!  I think I’ll give him till 11 am before I wake him up.  My stomach has been growling for at least an hour and I can’t wait much longer!  And, as we do on the 19th of every month, we’ll talk about the wedding and the honeymoon and smile till our faces hurt.