So as a part of Claire and I’s getting used to this whole “marrying each other thing” we’ve been talking a lot about our families.
One of the funny things about my family is that my mother loves ghost stories. When she was a kid -to hear her tell it- she had a pet ghost named Alice. The stories that my mother and her sister tell are both funny, and frightening, and probably why I still don’t like to sleep in the house they grew up in. The Grand Strand of South Carolina has been continuously inhabited (by non-Natives) since the 1670s. It’s seen countless skirmishes, slavery, a war, and all the other detritus & minutiae of human life. My mother says that these emotions and strife of people are what causes ghosts to appear and stay around a place. And since this is a woman who used to take all her high school friends on “Ghost Hunts” on weekends, I’m inclined to believe her.
When I told Claire about my haunted background, she was a bit apprehensive. But I have proof. Continue reading
Since we’ve decided to stay in our lovely little carriage house, it’s only appropriate that I share this with you.
Apparently, New York City used to have a city-wide “Moving Day” every May 1 at 9am. All leases ended on this day and everyone moved. Davy Crocket witnessed it in 1834:
By the time we returned down Broadway, it seemed to me that the city was flying before some awful calamity. ‘Why,’ said I, ‘Colonel, what under heaven is the matter? Everyone appears to be pitching out their furniture, and packing it off.’ He laughed, and said this was the general ‘moving day.’ Such a sight nobody ever saw unless it was in this same city. It seemed a kind of frolic, as if they were changing houses just for fun. Every street was crowded with carts, drays, and people. So the world goes. It would take a good deal to get me out of my log-house; but here, I understand, many persons ‘move’ every year.
Apparently, this tradition continued until World War 2 when there weren’t enough men around to move everyone at once.
Luckily, we’ve got another year or so in our little, inconvenient, heavenly house.
Like me, Jamey really likes sweets. And desserts. And stuff with sugar in general.
What’s weird to me, though, is that he prefers sugary, fruity things over anything else. I on the other hand would probably eat my fingers if they were covered in chocolate, since chocolate is all I really need in life.
Which is why this conversation did not surprise me in the least:
Claire: What do you think of angel food cake?
Jamey: Meh. [Translation: I’m not motivated to care.]
Claire: What would you think of angel food cake if it looked like this and was on our gorgeous registry cake stand?
Angel food. With strawberries. On a cake stand. Simple, really.
Jamey: (serious pause.) Meh…? [Translation: I could be convinced.]
As you can see, I have a lifetime conflict ahead of me.
I don’t know, dude, but I have one word: Bacon.
I like this game. People should definitely write us or search their way here with life’s burning questions. Clearly Jamey and I have the answers to everything, even if it’s just applying the mathematical equation that allows us to reach an understanding of why I am madly in love.
Oh, and you can bet I will follow up that post with my own version soon enough. Of course I have 38 loves that I’ve already considered for marriage! It’s how I roll.
Guys. The pictures and the videos from this article are officially the highlight of my Friday.
Bunnies. Hopping. Over hurdles.
Why would I want a puppy when I can have a hurdle-hopping hare? Beats me, because this is outstanding.
You have to read the whole article. The video at the end basically sums up how every life challenged should be faced, overcome and hopped.
Jamey got in last night, and today I’m making him an Italian dinner from our Italian Cooking Encyclopedia. I was going to poll you all on what I should cook, but then I realized I wouldn’t have enough time to go to the store and make the dish if I waited for the end-of-day results. Plus, I think Jamey will probably just stuff the ballot box and send it out to everyone so he can have exactly what he wants for dinner – regardless of the public choice! Democracy, my foot (at least in this household).
If it’s a success, you know we’ll take pictures and share with you the glory of our Italian food. If not, well, let’s hope other meals turn out decent this weekend.
Happy Friday, folks!
I am fortunate to have lived my life (so far) with very few enemies. There are people I haven’t liked, and there are occasions that I have had an awfully awkward time due to the avoidance of certain someones, but no one has been a mortal enemy who I have sworn an oath against for life.
I fear that this all has now changed.
Only a bottle of ketchup, you say? Oh, but what evils lie within.
Sometimes I read something and I’m amazed at how random the world is.
Something like this:
On Sept. 13, 1862, members of the 27th Indiana Infantry were awaiting orders on a hillside near Frederick, Md., as Robert E. Lee’s Confederate troops approached from the south. One of the men noticed a package on the ground and discovered three cigars wrapped in a piece of paper. The men were rejoicing in their good fortune when a sergeant noticed writing on the paper — it was headed “Headquarters of the Army of Northern Virginia.”
They had discovered Lee’s battle plan. The orders had been issued to Gen. D.H. Hill, but one of his staff officers had apparently dropped them; Hill received a second copy from Stonewall Jackson and had not realized that the first set had been lost.
The plans passed quickly up the line, and that afternoon Union general George C. McClellan was wiring the president, “I have all the plans of the rebels, and will catch them in their own trap.” The battle of Sept. 17, Antietam, was the bloodiest single day of the Civil War. It repelled the rebel army and permitted Lincoln to issue the Emancipation Proclamation from a position of strength.
Lee later told a friend: “I went into Maryland to give battle, and could I have kept Gen. McClellan in ignorance of my position and plans a day or two longer, I would have fought and crushed him.”
Futility Closet is one of my favorite sites on the internet. Great for a few minutes to get my mind moving again.
So the Battle of Antietam was lost because a staffer lost the plans in the street… crazy, huh?
I haven’t got a very good way of making this about Claire and I. I suppose I could go on for a little bit about how everything had to align perfectly for us to meet and be where we are now, but I tend to think that that level of navel-gazing reeks of hubris.
Mostly, I just think that’s a crazy little story and wanted to share it.