Amateur

Everett continues his love of taking pictures. I don't necessarily think he is a budding photographer, although if I agree with John Locke and his tabula rasa theory, I'd say we could make him into one :). I think he would have a long way to go, but he definitely has "point and shoot" down pat.

We look kind of funny, but I like this picture because I'm on my tiptoes and Joel is schlumping over. . .so I look taller. Yes, I've always wanted to be a little taller. Yes, I know this is never going to happen. No, this doesn't keep me awake at night.

I think I married a pretty great guy. If I want his help with housework, I only ever have to ask him once and he does it without complaint. I just need to get better at asking rather than simmering about it. If I tell him I want to do something together, he finds a book for us to read (The Outliers by Malcom Gladwell--so far, very good). A couple of weeks ago, he woke up early on a Saturday morning and disappeared. Where was he? In the garden, tackling all 200 sq. feet of our "weed disaster zone" that was supposed to be a thriving garden. He did it just to surprise me, even though I told him in no uncertain terms that he didn't have to lift a finger in the garden. Now that, people, is romance.

He is understanding of me. He is always telling me "thank you" or complimenting me in some way, and he is always saying to Everett, "Isn't Mama so good to us?" or "Go give your Mama a hug."

I admit, I don't get tired of any of it.