Struggle Within

I won't lie; I've had a time of it with D gone as of late.

It's like I took two steps forward in setting up my 'home alone' routine, and his visit at Christmas set me back to square one. In the three weeks he was home I got used to him being around, having someone to talk to. It made me realize just how much I miss him when he's gone.

Normally I adjust when he leaves, keep calm and carry on. I'm really, really good at staying busy, which is a valuable skill set when you're a military wife. I think what's been throwing me off course is the fact that he's not on a deployment, and that sets me up for the expectation that I can talk to him regularly (like we did during his last two deployments). That we can Skype all the time so I can see his face. That we'll still have our usual sarcastic banter back and forth via IM and email that makes it feel like we have a normal relationship, like everyone else who gets to see their spouse every day.

Except we don't.

His new unit and subsequent work schedule keeps him at work 14+ hour days in most cases. Not even weekends are sacred. I emailed the FRO to find out why the crazy hours were a regular thing and was basically told this is just the way it is, so we have to deal with it. Which of course is no comfort, and being half way around the world I don’t have the support of the other wives who are just as husband-less as I am. I am an island (which I find ironic since Okinawa is an island, and San Diego is anything but). 

I saw this post on another blog I happened across, Whiskey Straight, and it perfectly articulated how I've been feeling:

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life…

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

“One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.

“The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

“This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather,

“Which wolf will win?”

The old chief simply replied,

“The one you feed.”

I don't want to feed the frustration and bitterness that gets a hold of me every now and then, but it's really hard not to sometimes. I never thought I'd be in a position where talking to my spouse was a luxury, and yet here I am, sometimes going weeks without hearing from D. I also don't want people’s pity though, and that's why I don't really talk about it with anyone. Not my family, not my friends (although I suppose it seems hypocritical to talk about it here).  But that's why I started this blog in the first place. It's my Switzerland - the place I can vent all this type of stuff without anyone throwing me a pity party.

My hope when I began writing was that there might be other women like me out there in the blogosphere. Who have moments where they feel like a bad wife for hating their husband's job. For feeling guilty about getting emotional when they've had a bad day and all they want is a hug when they get home, but that's not in the cards. It's about the good, bad and ugly of being a military wife, or any sort of work widow really.

I know I will struggle with my two wolves for the next 10 years of D's career, and that's something I accepted a long time ago. This life is anything but easy, but it is temporary (he's already got his retirement date picked for cryin' out loud). I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

Someday, my husband will be all mine.  And I will no longer be a mistress to the Marine Corps.

But for now I choose to feed the good wolf, and remember that all of these sacrifices are worth it in the end.

Because when you love someone, that's all that matters.

A Time To Plant...

...a time to rip my hair out in frustration.

I thought the hard part was over when the hard scape portion of my yard project was done. We put up a new fence (custom made by Dad!), distributed gypsum to help break down all the lovely clay that makes up pretty much all of San Diego County, put in drain pipes and filled in the planter that was empty (and non-existent) before. I've even had gutters installed to help preserve the hard scape and newly minted planter beds in the front yard from the roof runoff that we were having while it was raining. For what felt like the entire month of December. What I didn't anticipate though was how hard it was going to be to decide what, exactly, I was going to put in those planters.  Besides plants.

Why is this so hard?

Sure, I know where the grass and roses are going to go, but I'm still left with three empty planter areas and a whole host of possibilities that makes my head spin. I know part of the problem is I'm putting undue pressure on myself, but this is the front yard of my house.

My calling card.

The first impression people will have of me as a homeowner, before ever having laid eyes on me or met me.

Every opinion formed of me by every stranger who ever passes by my home will be based on what they think of my yard.

Yea, no pressure or anything.

(Normally I don't care too much about what other people think, but my home is a source of pride for me.  That and I have an HOA.  'nuff said).

If it sucks, then that's all people will be able to see. It will distract them from all the gorgeous stack stone and the five stone, variegated, tumbled pavers I just put down. That and the fact that I took the time to painstakingly scrutinize five shades of white to ensure my gutters perfectly match my trim and stucco?  That will all be for naught because all they can think is, "what were they thinking with those plants?"  (Overly dramatic?  Perhaps, but bear with me... I'm trying to make a point). 

If it's fabulous, I can relax knowing that I'm not the one bringing down everyone's property value, and can have the self satisfaction of having raised the bar for the neighborhood that much more.  In the spirit of full disclosure I should note: we received an anonymous nasty gram in our mailbox about the state of our yard right after we'd moved in, which neither of us have forgotten or quite forgiven.  The ink wasn't even dry yet on our mortgage, we'd been homeowners for a matter of weeks and suddenly there was a note saying "If you don't have time to take care of your yard, you should hire someone to do it for you."  It was all I could do to keep D from going door to door demanding to know who'd written it. Luckily for them we were already planning on ripping the yard out (which is why we weren't watering it), but that only added fuel to the fire.

Rude, gutless neighbors aside; I want a yard I can be proud of. Something that's beautiful for my benefit, first and foremost. I've been scouring books and nurseries for ideas, and let me tell you, if you want to be overwhelmed pick up a copy of the Sunset Gardener's Handbook. Ho-ly Cow. Anything you could ever want to know about any sort of plant is in there, which is probably why it's not the best place to start. It's a lot to digest all at once without actually being able to see anything in person.

Naturally I'd love D's input on these sorts of things, but of course his living in a different country doesn't lend itself to helping with weekend projects such as these. Dad's been my man power during the last six months, and for that I've been eternally grateful. Next up on our list is to finish distributing the mulch in the planters, rototill everything in to mix it all up, finish removing the last of the tree roots from the 20’ tree I had ripped out of the front yard, and then rent a trencher to dig the trenches for the sprinkler and electrical conduits. (Ah yes, Landscape Design 101 continues...) After that we can install the sprinklers and start to actually plant some plants!

Which of course brings me back to... what exactly am I going to put in the planters?

New Year, Same Song and Dance

I can't believe it's 2011. Where did 2010 go?

The last few months have been a blur (hence the lack of posting), but that's what happens during the holidays. It also hasn't helped that this year has felt insanely busy already, and we're only (less than) a month in. I'm hoping this isn't a sign of things to come...

This last Thanksgiving was a little weird because it was the first one I hadn't spent with D since we met, which is pretty incredible given his occupation. It was still a good one though - I went to my parent’s house and we had a small get together with family and friends. I even made The Best Pie, EVER! (bourbon-pecan pumpkin butter pie). I know, you wish you'd been there to have some. Dad brined the turkey and mom and dad's friends the Smith's brought a family recipe to the table: pork sausage dressing. I thought I'd died and gone to stuffing heaven. Needless to say there was no shortage of good food or company to be had, but it still felt a little hollow with D gone.

The great thing about November and December is you get two major holidays within a month of each other. The even better thing this last year was D came home for three weeks to spend Christmas with me in our new home! It's hard to quantify how you feel when you see the person you love the most for the first time in three and a half months. It was like he never left. We fell so easily back into our routine, right down to the way he holds my hand while I'm driving when we were on our way home from the airport. Everything felt right and whole again.

And then, there was the big reveal.

I'd been secretly dying to know what he'd think of the house when he saw it for the first time in person. All the time, work, (money!!!) and labor were only worth it if he liked it as much as I did. Pictures only show you so much when you're dealing with a project of this scale, but my husband was clearly in awe when we rounded the corner into the cul-de-sac, with that "whoa" look in his eyes. He was very pleased with the end result which only added to my joy that day.

We made the most of the time we had and within the first two weeks were so deep into a food and drink coma that it was obvious that some serious detox would be needed to come out of it. But, what are the holidays if not a time to eat, drink, and be merry with the ones we love?

Christmas was fantastic, and being able to spend it together in our new home made it all the more special. We realized a little too late that we were feeling a bit drained from all our activities though, trying to squeeze as much into his visit as we could. I'd wanted so badly to see and do all the things I hadn't been able to do with him over the last few months, but what he really wanted to do was sit at home and just relax, with nowhere to be and nothing to do. It's hard to plan for everything, especially once you're in the thick of it.

Before we knew it our time was up. New Years had come and gone, and we found ourselves with a still lengthy to-do list and no more time to do anything. It's so hard not to feel selfish when I watch him pack and can't help but say, "I wish you didn't have to go."

Luckily work has kept me very busy over the last few weeks, so I haven't had too much time to really sit and feel lonely. Our talking schedule hasn't gotten any better sadly, as D returned to 14+ hour work days and the 17 hour time difference that makes talking so hard to begin with. What's really crazy is he's been over there for six months already, so depending on when he gets his next set of orders we could be 1/3 of the way through. It just goes to show that even in the most undesirable of situations, time still flies.

I've been surprised at how life has been with D away this time around. It feels different, perhaps because it's more than just a deployment, but it's definitely more stressful on my end (and that's without a wedding to plan!) All the moving parts that go into homeownership and maintenance, the responsibilities, (the cleaning!) are all things I had no real way to prepare for. But seeing as how a large part of our lives are spent apart, I'm taking it as a character building exercise. D married me because he knew I could handle it (well, that and he couldn't live without me).

I will say this: I'm looking forward to everything 2011 has to offer because I know no matter what happens, we'll take the lemons, add some sugar and vodka and have ourselves a party. ;)

Help

I'm a person who prides herself on being self sufficient. I have to be. My independence is a large part of my identity, but I've found that over the years I don't cling to that the way I used to. I have a family now – I’m a wife – and with that I have to let go a little. I'll be the first to admit I'm a work in progress when it comes to letting go, but I am making an effort and I know I'm better than I used to be.

This weekend I found myself in a situation where I couldn't be completely self sufficient though. I had a weekend full of plans with friends. The first 'fun' weekend I'd had in awhile. I was really looking forward to everything, and then suddenly my plans were changed with the slice of a cucumber.

I was making a salad to take to a girlfriend's baby shower on Saturday morning. A cucumber salad. I was trying to get everything done and I was keenly aware that I was running late. As I finished slicing the cucumber in my hand I was thinking about everything I still had left to do, and then I felt it. I looked down, and for a split second I saw the white of freshly exposed flesh on the edge of my thumb. Flesh that had never seen sunlight. Or had felt air. Or had encountered cucumber juice. And just as quickly it was covered in a gush of blood.

I had, quite literally, cut off part of my thumb.

I quickly grabbed a paper towel and squeezed down on my finger. Looking back to the cutting board I flipped over the mandolin and saw a pinky nail sized piece of flesh stuck to the underside of the blade. I carefully slid it off and placed it back on my thumb. Not so bad, right? It was a decent enough chunk that I wasn't going to write it off, but at the same time I doubted any Dr. would see it as worth sewing back on. It was at that point I froze and realized: I had no idea where to go. I didn't know where the Naval Hospital was on base, and even if I did, it wasn't like I could drive myself there. I quickly grabbed my phone with my free fingers and started calling my girlfriends in the area. They were all military wives so I knew someone would know where to take me. Every number I called went unanswered. Who knew that at 10a on a Saturday morning I'd go 0-4 when there was an actual emergency? That was when the panic started to set it. I didn't want to call 911 because it wasn't a life threatening emergency. I wasn't able to really type well because of the pressure I was holding on my hand, so Googling what I didn't already know was out of the question. I don't think I've ever felt more alone or isolated than I did at that moment. All of my self sufficiency wasn't doing me a lick of good right then. I needed help, and for once when I was willing to seek it out and accept it I couldn't find any. I could feel tears in my eyes in sheer frustration at my situation. The one thing I wanted more than anything was for D to be there, and that was the one most impossible thing I could have asked for.

I sat for a moment and racked my brain, trying to think of what my options were, and I realized the most obvious option lived next door. I'd met my neighbors on a few occasions and had even exchanged contact info with them, and while I hate imposing on people I don't know very well, this was one time I knew I didn't have a choice. I quickly made my way next door and rang the doorbell. As I stood on their porch I realized I was shaking. My nerves were starting to fail me as the gravity of my situation was starting to sink in.

I had just cut off part of my thumb 15 minutes ago. Holy $%*&!

My neighbor answered the door still in his bathrobe and was his usual jovial self until he saw the look on my face and the bloody paper towel clenched in my hand. I tried to return his now faltering smile but I just couldn't do it. He asked me, "What happened? Did you cut yourself?" and I could see his smile fading fast, being quickly replaced by a look of concern. I opened my mouth to tell him and suddenly got choked up. I don't know why. I finally managed to squeak out, "I need help."

The next ten minutes were a blur. He brought me into his kitchen and sat me on a stool at the breakfast bar. I could tell he was starting to panic too because he was pacing back and forth as he asked me questions. I managed to tell him what happened but my composure was completely gone at that point. The tears were streaming down my face and I could not make them stop. He brought me some tissues while he went and told his wife what was going on. He then came back and asked me which hospital I needed to go to, and I had to admit I didn't know. He wanted to call the medics but I protested. I knew he was feeling overwhelmed and wanted someone to take care of me right away, but in spite of everything happening, the entire situation - the bloody paper towel in my hand, the piece of my thumb that was no longer attached - the first thing that popped into my brain when he said call the medics was, "and how much will that cost me?" (Ah, the Ever Present Question... the true sign of a new homeowner, right?)

He was adamant about calling though, so I let him. Within three minutes they were there, and suddenly it was like the pages of a firefighter's calendar walking into the kitchen. I didn't know that many good looking guys could be in the same room at once. I'm pretty sure you need a permit for that sort of thing. They were all very nice and professional, but I'm sure they could see that I was shaken up. After peeling away the paper towel so they could see the damage they weighed in on my options. They echoed my assessment that there wasn't enough to sew back on, but the flap was just large enough that it'd leave a sizable dent if removed. They asked me if I wanted them to take me to the hospital, but I thanked them and declined. That just seemed way too overkill to me for what amounted to a flesh wound. My neighbor's wife had emerged from getting dressed at this point and offered to take me to the ER, so I took her up on it. A wave of relief washed over me as I got into her car. I knew everything was going to be alright.

After all was said and done I didn't get any stitches (no surprise). I currently have a mummy thumb, all wrapped in gauze, and go back tomorrow for my 'wound check'. The term the nurse used when calling back for my treatment was "partial finger amputation".

Yuck.

I'm doing better now. I got to talk to D on Saturday night which helped a lot. He was sympathetic to my plight but he's been dealing with his own issues lately (work related,) so we both talked about what was on our minds. I wish it was easier for us to have those types of conversations, I always feel so much better after we do. I'm grateful that I have such wonderful neighbors, and that I was able to push my comfort zone and ask for help when in less severe circumstances I might not have been able to.

As far as my self sufficiency is concerned, even I realize that there are limits to what we can do for ourselves. I just feel fortunate that I was able to get help when I really needed it.

Decisions

I was going through my email account cleaning things up when I got to the drafts folder.  In it was an email I'd started a year ago, and I remembered being wrought with emotion while I was writing it.  I never ended up sending it, although I still tear up thinking about that period of time and where we are now.  It was exactly one year ago that we found out that D had to leave CA and go to another unit, either in North Carolina or Japan (and I guess we know how that went...)

D came home late from work one day and I could tell something was wrong.  So I asked him what was going on, and he told me.  Just like that.  No prep, no easing into it.  The bomb was dropped.  And all at once I felt like my world was crumbling around me.  I couldn't even look at him as he discussed what our options were - he'd had all day to process this information and think it over while I was speechless, pretending to wash the dishes with my back to him so he couldn't see the tears rolling down my face.  We'd been told only a month before that we would get to stay in CA for at least another year.  We'd just gotten married and had started looking for a house to buy.  I'd finally started to plan my life here in San Diego, something I hadn't really allowed myself to do before and suddenly that was being taken away.  I was bitter, but I couldn't show it because I wasn't allowed to be.  I chose this life when I chose D.

On top of it all, after spending the day weighing all the options, D told me his first choice was to go unaccompanied to Japan.  It would mean only two years away instead of three, and a slightly better chance of getting to come back to San Diego instead of being sent somewhere else.  All I could think was, "but that means we won't be together..."

I cried myself to sleep that night.  Everyone knows that with military life comes these possibilities, but it's like getting a vaccine: even if you know it's coming, it can still hurt. A lot.

My email was to one of my best friends, LT.  She's my voice of reason when I have a difficult decision to make, because I can always count on her to give it to me straight.  No sugar coating or just telling me what I want to hear. I outlined the pros and cons for each scenario and wanted her to look at the situation from an objective standpoint and tell me if there was anything I was missing.  Any silver lining I couldn't see. Because really, when I looked at all my options listed in bullit points my eyes kept going to the same lines:

Option 3: D goes unaccompanied to Japan
Cons

• we won't be together
• life will essentially be put on hold for two years

At that point we'd barely been married for two months.  D had only returned from his fourth deployment three months earlier.  I'd just gotten him home and was now having to contemplate living apart from him for years, not just months at a time with a set return date to look forward to.  All of our options felt like one big lose-lose for one reason or another.

Ultimately I didn't send the email to LT because I realized that as much as I wanted help making this decision, nothing anyone said to me was going to make me feel better or make the situation easier to accept.  I knew that whatever decisions D and I ended up making would be with our best long term interests in mind, and at the end of the day a few years of our life spent apart would be a drop in the bucket when we have the rest of our lives to spend together.  We ended up finding out a few weeks later that D was being stationed in Japan, and at that time he requested to go unaccompanied.

I still have moments where I wonder what things would be like if I'd gone with him.  And conversely, I have moments where I'm glad that I stayed.  I struggle with the lack of communication at times, and I get frustrated when I have things I want to say but no one to say them to.  When I have a good day and no one to share it with.  When I have a bad day and just need a hug, but come home to an empty house.

Overall, I miss my friend...

Makeover

So, I've been really bad about updating my blog.

I thought for sure with D gone I'd be blogging constantly - and yet, true to form - I've found an all consuming project that has taken pretty much all of my free time. Who knew my foray into the land of landscape design would take over my life?

In two more days I will no longer have a front yard that remotely resembles the yard I had when we bought the house just two and a half months ago. It's been a thrilling process as far as dreaming up something in my head and seeing it come to life on such a large scale. Yet at the same time, it's sad/scary because D hasn't really had a hand in any of it, and the last time I was dealing with dollar figures this high I was buying a car.

Things are really moving along though. It feels like all the pieces are falling into place at breakneck speed, and I still marvel at all the different working parts needed to remodel a yard. Just to give you a better idea of how I've spent my free time in the last month and a half, here's an overview:

Landscape Design, 101
First there was the whole design phase where I spent a few weeks deciding what I wanted the 'new' yard to look like. That included discussing semantics with my dad like where to place the conduit pipes to run the electrical and water lines through for the sprinkler system and lights in the yard (because what's the point of redoing your yard if you're not going to install an automatic sprinkler system while you're at it?) All of these were going to be laid down under the pavers, so I had to map them out on my plans to make sure they were included in the bids.

Then there's drain placement so the hardscape and landscape drain properly. Then there's walkway width (because of course, you don't want them too wide or too narrow). Naturally that segues into the overall flow of the hardscape and landscape placement and their functionality, not to mention the Ever Present Question, "and just how much is all of this going to cost me?"

After we got all of those details squared away I started shopping my design to various paver companies to get the answer to said Ever Present Question. I looked at paver colors, patterns, sizes, and shapes and settled on what I thought would go best with the house. I got quotes that were in line with how much I thought it'd cost, and I got quotes that made me scratch my head and go, "do they think I'm a schmuck or something?" After going over the numbers and driving around to see the workmanship from their reference lists (HIGHLY recommended if you're ever hiring a contractor of any sort... a reputable one will have a reference list they will give out gladly, and should frankly volunteer), I settled on the outfit who had the best quality of workmanship and ironically, was the lowest bid as well. Funny enough, picking an outfit was (almost) the easiest part of the process...

After the designs were done I started researching what all I'd need to get done before they ripped out my concrete. Turns out, quite a bit. I had several trees in the yard I wanted removed (well, I wanted everything removed actually,) so I contacted local arbor specialists to get quotes from that group of people. Since the plants all needed to be removed before the hardscape project started, finding a yard demo company was a pressing matter. On top of that, since they'd be digging to remove the plants, I needed Dig Alert to notify all the utility companies (gas, electric, cable, water, telephone) so they could come out and mark where all their lines and mains were so no one would accidently rupture the gas line and blow up the neighborhood. Minor detail. After giving all of them my laundry list (removal of 13 trees, plants, shrubs, bushes, grass, with rototilling and grinding out the stumps of all above mentioned trees) and receiving quotes, I had my crew chosen and a demo date set.

And still, we're not done. Since the side yard was getting redone as well, I needed my air conditioner moved so they could break up the concrete beneath it and put pavers down so it would look all nice and pretty when they were done. Did you know it costs $100 just to have an AC guy come disconnect your AC and move it a few feet to the backyard? Yea, neither did I (and apparently that's a great deal too!) Oh, and if you want it moved back and reconnected, that will be an additional $250. Of course when they removed the AC they found it had been placed right in front of the dryer vent (genius!), so the whole backside was covered in dryer lint, which naturally makes it less efficient. (They also found a black widow spider living in there, which makes me glad I wasn't home for that particular project. Not a fan of arachnids). Knowing this for when we reconnect it, we can move it further down the wall and prevent that from being an issue in the future. But moving it farther down will cost an extra $50 since we'll need longer wires and lines to move it away from its current outlets.

This is the point where you stop caring about an extra $50 because in the grand scheme of this project, it's become a drop in the bucket.

Oh, and none of this even takes into consideration the fact that I have an HOA in my neighborhood, and they have to approve my plans before anyone is allowed to come destroy my yard. Luckily that's been the easiest part of this whole project. I received a 'unanimous' approval less than 24 hours after emailing them my plans. Guess my neighbors hate my yard as much as I do. :P

So in the last four days my entire yard has been dug up and rototilled, my AC has been moved, and the outlines of my hardscape have been spray painted onto the yard so I can see what my paper plans look like in a life size scale. As you can imagine, the excitement is really starting to set in. More than anything I feel so incredibly fortunate that my parents live so close, and that my dad is retired and can act as project manager while I'm at work during the week. Him being available like this is really what even makes this whole thing possible.

What will make all of this worth it of course will be having a beautiful new yard to enjoy.

That and the look on D's face when he comes home and doesn't recognize his own house (LOL!!)

One Year

Today's the day.  One year ago today I married D (and the Marine Corps for that matter).  My how time flies when you're insanely busy.

I actually got to talk to D yesterday morning which was a very happy surprise.  We hadn't spoken on the phone since he arrived in Japan over two weeks ago, so hearing his voice was a great way to start the weekend.  He hasn't had Internet in his room since he got there, so there's no way to email, IM, or skype.  I really miss being able to talk to him on a regular basis, but its amazing how something as simple as an hour long phone call can make you feel so much better. Our lack of communication since he got there has been making me more and more anxious. I feel like there's so much going on that I want/need to talk to him about, and yet I can't.

Unfortunately he was calling because he'd had a particularly bad day and really needed to talk to me, but I was glad that I heard the phone ring and woke up so I could take his call.  It also made me glad that when he had a bad day, the one person he wanted to talk to about it was me.  You have to understand, my husband is not a complainer.  He's a Marine.  He compartmentalizes things that bother/upset him because that's what he was trained to do.  They can't allow anything to distract them because depending on where they are and what they're doing, that could put people's lives at risk.  Do I wish he was able to talk about what's on his mind more than he does?  Absolutely.  But I understand why he doesn't, and I just hope someday when he's no longer active duty he can learn to process things as they happen rather than store them away to be forgotten. 

We were also able to talk about the tentative plans for the yard which is something I've been itching to do.  It's been weird meeting with designers and getting estimates and mapping things out without him here to bounce ideas off of, get immediate input on.  I'm really excited about it all though, the yard is going to look so great when it's done!  I'm meeting with another outfit this week and after I get numbers back from them I should be able to make a decision about who to hire.  I'm still having moments where I sit back and say, "holy cow, we own a house."

Other than adjusting to D being gone life is starting to take it's familiar "on my own schedule" shape.  I feel perpetually tired, and yet I can't seem to get to bed before 12m or 1a.  I'll just start puttering around the house doing little things that need to get done and before I know it, it's waaaaaaay past my bedtime.  If D were home we'd be in bed by 1030p every night.  He's a routine guy like that.

For our one year anniversary gift (to ourselves) I got us an anniversary journal.  It's a gorgeous hand bound book with entries for us to write about each anniversary - how we celebrated, memorable moments from the year, and a place for us to share our thoughts on the last year with one another.  I figured since we'd be spending the next few years apart it'd be a good way to document the time we did get to spend together, and also a great thing to be able to look back on further down the road.

I don't know what the next few years are going to be like, but I know this first year was our best yet: it's the longest amount of uninterrupted time we've spent together since we met, and I can't think of a better way to spend your first year of marriage.

Happy Anniversary D, I love you.