life: it's snowing!

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

 

life: meet my turkey

Say hello to our Thanksgiving turkey!

PSYCH! That's a butternut squash.

Tony and I are on our own this year for Thanksgiving. Work schedules are keeping us in D.C. for the holiday instead of in Ohio with our family. And since I'm the one cooking Thanksgiving dinner, ain't no turkey on the menu.

Today we'll be having butternut squash risotto, cornmeal spoon bread, almond green beans, cranberry sauce, caramel pecan pie, and egg nog. Most of these are new recipes for me, and I'll post the keepers on the blog. (I have particularly high hopes for the cornmeal spoon bread and the caramel pecan pie.)

But damn do I miss my family today. I miss my spot at the kids' table. I miss the inevitable conversation about Cleveland news personality Wilma Smith. (I don't know why they always must talk about her. But they do. Every Thanksgiving. For decades.)

But I have Tony and the cat and a beautiful house, and for that I am grateful. We are happy and in love and have several episodes of Downton Abbey to enjoy today.

And we will have a little bit of Ohio in our home today. Tony's family has a tradition to do a craft together every Thanksgiving, and we got a package in the mail yesterday from his aunt with the supplies we'll need to do our craft from afar. It was sweet of her.

Happy Thanksgiving, world.

the garden: goodbye, leaves

I went to do some Christmas shopping this morning, and when I came home, Tony had raked up FIVE bags of leaves from our front yard. Which may not sound like a lot, but our front yard is the size of a postage stamp.

Our tree dumped pretty much all of its leaves in the past few days. In fact, early this week, I was thinking I should post a photo of the beautiful yellow leaves outside our bedroom window. Too late.

life: 10 years with tony

Today is a milestone. Ten years ago today, Tony took me on our first date. Nov. 1, 2002. Ten years. TEN years. I get butterflies in my stomach when I think about it. A whole decade has passed. A Decade of Tony and Jessi.

A person changes and grows so much in their early- to mid-20s. And I'm proud to say that we spent those formative years growing together -- not apart.

So on Nov. 1, 2002, Tony drove his Cutlass Ciera to my dorm to pick me up. He took me out to eat, and we went to see Punch Drunk Love. He still keeps the movie stub in his wallet.

(Also, apparently movies only cost $5.50 in 2002?)

I was 19, a sophomore in college, and lived on campus without a car. Tony was a senior, lived off campus, and had a car. He also was 21 and could buy beer. And I'm being honest here, a car and beer -- those were two big perks of dating Tony.

After Tony graduated, he took a job in Ohio, and he stayed there for two years until I was done with school. And then he got a job in Georgia, and I headed west to Arizona. That was the first time we lived apart, and it lasted for a year and a half.

I'd drive through the desert, windows down, Johnny Cash blaring on the stereo, tears running down my cheeks. I'd scream the lyrics.

Train of love's a-comin'

Big black wheels a-hummin'

People waitin' at the station

Happy hearts are drummin'

Trainman, tell me maybe

Ain't you got my baby

Every so often everybody's baby gets the urge to roam

But everybody's baby but mine's comin' home

I still can't put that song on my iPod because it makes me cry when I listen to it. But as much as it hurt at the time to be away from Tony, it was one of the things that made our relationship strong in the long run. I'm glad I didn't marry him right after college and make a commitment to another person even before I was sure of how to live in the real world. In some ways, that would've been easier. But I realize that I had to figure out for myself what it's like to go to work every day, to build a career, to make new friends in a new city, to pay bills, to take care of myself. We had to do those thing separately. And it turns out, the adults that we were growing into liked each other just as much as (actually, quite a bit more than) the 19-year-old and 21-year-old versions of ourselves.

Tony eventually moved to Phoenix, and we had a great few years there. And then I moved to D.C. He stayed in Phoenix for six months while he searched for a job. After the second time apart, it was clear that we never wanted to be apart again. When Tony moved here in December 2008, he packed up his clothes, his cat and a diamond ring, and he drove 2,000 miles to me. When he got here, I met him outside our apartment. He hugged me and asked if I was ready to start the rest of our live together. And then he got down on his knee and proposed, right there in the street.

And it all started on a cold Ohio night with a Cutlass Ciera and Adam Sandler. Tony still can buy beer and drive a car, although his taste in both has improved significantly in the past 10 years. I love him for far different reasons today. I love him because he sometimes grabs me, dips me, and gives me a big kiss for no reason. Because he gives long and tight hugs during the sad times. Because he knows I despise cleaning the bathrooms, so he does it. Because I've found that all the cliches about relationships actually are true -- he's my best friend, he makes me laugh, he's The One.

In the card I gave Tony today, I wrote, "I love our life. I love you." And it's true. Happy anniversary, Tony. To many more decades together.

life: halloween candy & halloween puppy

As I type this, Tony is outside cleaning the gutters. He's also raking up leaves, so they don't crowd the drain and flood the backyard. The wind is starting to pick up. It's getting chilly. The hurricane is on its way.

And we are now fully stocked with Halloween candy. Always be prepared. I couldn't remember how many pieces we gave out last year, but it was in the hundreds. I got 280 this year. Hopefully I estimated correctly.

And speaking of Halloween, Tony, Jamie and I stopped by Camille and Matt's house this afternoon to meet their new, 12-week-old puppy, Ducky. Who is going as a distinguished gentleman for Halloween. How cute is this guy.

I tried to convince Tony that Victor should get a Halloween costume when we were at Target getting the candy. He said no. He doesn't believe in dressing up animals. I, however, think it's adorable if the animal's into it. And Ducky clearly is into it.

life: lazy rainy sunday snapshot

Rainy and cold. Hot chai tea. Skype with the sister.

Perfect Sunday afternoon.

life: how to crack eggs

I've never been very good about keeping the yolks in tact when I crack eggs. Recipes that call for separated eggs? That's always been a disaster for me. Same goes with over-easy eggs. But a couple of months ago, I changed techniques, and I haven't broken a yolk since.

I read that when eggs are stored in the carton, the yolk settles to the bottom of the egg. So if the pointy end of the egg is pointed down in the carton, that's where the yolk is.

So I started cracking the shells on the wide end of the shell, avoiding any disruption to the yolk. And it works!

Happy egging.

<3

From the archives: 

recipe: hard boiled eggs

recipe: scrambled eggs

the cat: lazy sunday cat friends

Sunday afternoon snapshot of Victor, chilling out with the neighborhood cat, Francois. When the weather is nice and Tony and I leave the doors open, these two will sit like this and just look at each other. They don't act excited. They don't hiss, either. They just sit there. And stare. And they crack me up.

life: unstuck light bulb

And what do we have here? 

This, ladies and gentlemen, is an unstuck light bulb.

The light bulb in our downstairs bathroom burned out last night, and Tony quickly discovered that we had a stuck lightbulb situation on our hands. Which prompted yours truly to Google the phrase "stuck light bulb." Which brought me to this super helpful video from Real Simple.

Watch the video for full instructions, but the bottom line is that you make the duct tape into handles that give your turns more oomph to get the bulb unstuck. My skeptical husband is now a believer. File this tip in the Good Ideas folder.

P.S. That incandescent bulb was there when we moved in, I swear! We replaced it with a CFL.

life: keeping godot

I've been doing a bit of spring cleaning the past couple of weeks. (I'm several months late, I know this.) And it culminated Saturday morning with Tony taking an entire carload of household goods, clothes, and books to the Goodwill in Northeast. 

Tony and I have been together for almost 10 years (!) but we've never gone through our books to get rid of our duplicates. Here he is, hard at work:  

(He's standing on a chair, by the way. We built bookshelves over the closets in the bedroom. Great space saver.)

It pains me to get rid of books, but lately I've been watching Hoarders on Netflix Instant and taking mental notes. One lady had 100 cans of Electrasol. Meanwhile, I had two sets of Harry Potter books. No one needs 100 cans of Electrasol, just like no one needs two sets of Harry Potter books, I realized. Goodbye, Harry.  

Except. We have two copies of Waiting for Godot. And Tony refused to part with one of them. "It's a ridiculous play. It's ridiculous that we would have two copies of the book. They both stay." How do you argue with that?

life: 'stock the bar' shower

Here's a fabulous idea for a wedding shower. You can tuck it into the recesses of your memory and pull out if you ever find yourself hosting a shower. A Stock the Bar Shower. No sheet sets or mixing bowls at this party. Everyone brings a bottle of liquor as a gift to help the betrothed stock their bar. 

And that's exactly how Tony and I spent Saturday night, celebrating the upcoming nuptials of Mike and Jen, whose wedding is next month.

Isn't that a great idea for a shower theme? Especially if you're throwing a shower for your friends, want to host a co-ed affair, and want to steer clear of a traditional shower.

Drink up indeed! 

life: eastern market cake & sausages

Scott and Michele stopped by Saturday morning with a cake in hand. Apparently it's a Chinese tradition to bring your friends and family cakes as a thank-you for helping out after your baby is born. This is my new favorite tradition. I am on board with any tradition that involves cake.  

It's a strawberry cake from the bakery at Eastern Market, and it was quite tasty. I've never had anything bad from that bakery. My brother-in-law Ian, who lives in London with my sister was visiting for a long weekend, and the three of us managed to put a good dent in it. 

Before Ian came, I was making the grocery list for the week, and I called my mom to ask what kind of dinners she makes for Ian when he's at her house. Without hesitation, she said sausages. Any kind of sausages. Hot dogs. Bratwurst. Kielbasa. The man likes his sausages. So we had sausages Friday night. Tony and Ian picked out some whiskey-fennel-onion sausages from Eastern Market, and both gave them high marks. They said the whiskey added a sweet flavor. (Meanwhile, yours truly, the vegetarian, chowed down on a veggie sausage.) Here's Tony's sausage, topped with onions and hot banana peppers from the garden: