Yada, yada, yada.

I have been dreading a new blog post for the longest time, putting it off with the lamest of excuses. "I'm too tired," or "I should be cleaning the kitchen," "doing research," "something productive." O yeah, or "making money." I think that the reason for my excuses is that I put way too much pressure on my next blog entry. I always promise to write about one thing or another in my next post and usually, I don't want to. So, like a bad habit, I put it off, and squash my creative genius. Just kidding. But, really, this post will be my release. Let's call it a purge post. So, get ready. Who knows what the next paragraph will hold.

Will and I are finally settled in our new place, but then again, not really. We are currently showering at Mar and Lar's (his sister and brother-in-law's), since our shower has a full wall of tiles minus the grout and a few tiles as well. This bathroom has proved to be quite the hassle. We are currently allowing it to lie dormant in order to dry so that it can be re-grouted for the third time! I'm tempted to get a big metal tub and bathe in the middle of the kitchen like my grandmother did as a child. I have two huge dutch ovens perfect for heating large quantities of water. Who needs a tiled shower anyways?

Will and I finally got our tv, a wonderful gift from an even more wonderful lady that works at the hospital with Will. Those women just love him. They have given and offered us so much. The tv is great even if we only get 16 channels. Better than nothing, right? Yep. But the size of the thing is incredible. It took two grown men, grunting and sweating all the while to get it and its circa-1998 girth into the house and then onto the stand. It is a gigantic black box that has turned our tiny living room into a cinema. I refuse to put a picture of it up; I am that emabarrassed.

I did post pictures of the cottage on facebook. Please, look at them there. I really hate uploading pictures on the blog. It takes forever. The quality is significantly diminished. And, it is a pain in my neck trying to organize them all onto the same axis and in the same dimensions. I'd rather not have a nervous breakdown from blogging. [But, please, check them out and if you can't, let me know. I will send you a link!]

For our one month anniversiary, Will and I spent a quiet evening at home. We didn't even cook, as leftovers were on the menu, and it never tasted so good. We have been going nonstop after the move-in, so it was nice to have a peaceful night of softly playing music, John Mayer and his "Clarity," Bob Marley for always and whatever else the shuffle chose for our entertainment. Will picked out a bouquet of green roses, daisies and these odd little flowers the most perfect shade of green that were laying on the table when I walked in; he even arranged them himself in our new vase. They looked smashing, as he is a man of many talents.

So far, marriage has been a blast. Its nice to have someone to come home to. Perhaps, I am being a bit nostalgic, but no, being nostalgic never can be a good thing. Remembering a time that never existed, or, in which you never existed and how things never quite were is not good at all. I think old-fashioned would be a better word. So, yes, I am being a bit old-fashioned when I say that its nice to belong to someone. He is home, and I humbly hang my proverbial hat in his heart every night. And, it feels good, really good.

He has taken a lot of call to make up for my unemployment, and he has unusually been called in a lot, a whole lot. I am learning to deal with these unexpected interruptions into our day, but don't think that I ever will get used to them. And, for that matter, I never want to get used to them. They are an intrusion and I will always see them as a theft, but I will in time come to relish even more the time that we have together in the then and the now. As I sit here on the couch, I'm listening to the rain tap-tap-tapping on the roof and the tick-tocking of our new clock, waiting for him to come home, eat his nightly snack of cereal and then warm up my side of the bed before I enter our meatlocker of a bedroom and dive under the quilt. Hurry home!!

And now, for the sake of lightening the load a little further off of my back, I will fulfill a blog promise and tell of the day that followed the night I first met Will. That next morning, I saw him in church, sitting two rows ahead of me. I nearly hit the floor so shocked was I. And, as horrible as it is to admit, I don't think that I heard a word of Buster's sermon that day, but I could probably tell you every detail of the most incredible daydream, complete with wedding bells and a long white dress. Pathetic? Perhaps at the time, but who's laughing now?

I know that at the end of several posts, I have mentioned getting Will on here to say a few words. I really want that to happen as soon as possible. Maybe, he can lend a little coherence to my otherwise useless and chaotic babbling. Have I made any sense on here at all?? I feel like such a fraud. I know that wild tales of the West Virginia wilderness would be much more entertaining than our year as Sandlappers, but thankfully, I am not to blame for that one. But, then again, maybe I am, since I jumped the gun and joined the blog bandwagon a little too soon. Guilty as charged. And, another thing, what is it with this medium that induces from me the most cliche of utterances? I would be hurled bodily from any creative writing course for committing such a crime within the literary bounds of workshop, since for all of you non-creative writers, cliches are strictly forbidden. So much for that degree.

Where to next? Hmm.. since I am no longer pressuring myself from blog entry to blog entry, I will be sure to leave this one open-ended. Why do I feel like I have to promise something for next time anyways? Talk about pressure.

But, bugs. I will talk about bugs and how much I hate them. They seem to love me though and have found every entry not visible to human eyes through which to penetrate into my house. If I find one more roach belly-up on the floor during my 3am trek to the toilet, I might just do something about it. Like buy the powder that everyone keeps telling us about to get rid of them. Yeah, that's a logical response to bug infestation and a threat, so watch it bugs. Too bad any action has yet to be taken. I certainly don't mind leaving them to our ferocious panther, named Lottie. She usually deals with them in a timely manner. Although, the random cricket legs and sqashed spiders, her spoils of war, are not that pleasant to pick off the floor with your morning coffee.

Next time, a spontaneous and just as random post will be delivered, totally unplanned, minus all the pressure, but full of newlyweds. Enjoy!