The Key to Our Marriage

Craig and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary last Friday, the 21st, by going back to where it all started: Islamorada in the Florida Keys. This is where we tied the knot and we've been trying to go back ever since. We stayed at the same resort,Cheeca Lodge & Spa, and were thrilled to see that the place has only gotten better over time. The photo above shows us eating dinner on the beach at the resort, just steps away from where the ceremony happened in 2003. And that cake is a smaller version of our wedding cake, which was made by Bob's Bunz across the street. I have been dreaming about those white chocolate shells for years!


Speaking of eating, that's pretty much all we did all week (which made wearing elastic-waisted maternity pants a great thing!). This picture was taken at Morada Cafe, a quaint little oceanside cafe with the dining tables in the sand and a live band.

We also made time for some some adventure, too. Here's Craig trying to climb a palm tree. We were much more successful during a snorkel trip (saw lots of beautiful, big fish and avoided the jellyfish that stung two people that were with us) and we spent a day in Key West touring Hemingway's home, avoiding all the tourist shops and standing at the southernmost point of the U.S.


While we didn't bring home many souveniers, we did get some great photos. Craig captured the essense of Cheeca and the Keys through the lense of his camera. Here's one sample of what he captured. To see some of his favorite pics from the trip, check out his Web site.
While you're there, if you see an image anywhere on his site that you'd like for yourself, he'd be happy to have a print made for you, just let us know the size and we'll let you know how much it cost through Smug Mug.

And last but not least, the little fetus (the size of a bell pepper this week), made its first journey by plane. I'm guessing this will be the easiest flight with him/her we'll have for a while.


Here's to five fantastic years and many more to come!


Carrie

Born too late.

I'm always looking for sources of pride of my Swedish heritage.

I think I found more than I could have asked for in these Swedish dance bands of the 70s.

I'm glad they didn't go with the shot that was taken 15 minutes after this one. Saints? Hardly.

Bedazzeled!

Sweden's polyester version of the Three Amigos.

I've never seen a name so befitting a bad-ass rock band.

What are the chances that the dude on the bottom right was the lead singer?

Didn't get enough?

Visit 

http://pics.yemii.com/swedish-dance-bands.html

5 years as a second-timer

The agency where I work has certain traditions for celebrating 5, 10 and 15-year anniversaries for employees. I first worked at SHS right out of college for two years. After I left for a few years and came back as a member of the second-timers club, I realized that hitting the five-year mark would take me longer than usual since I was starting over at 0. But five years (and 8 or so months) has flown and the agency surprised me with the five-year celebration on Tuesday.

The recognition of this milestone can come in many forms -- mine happened to come as one large shock of wheat with a crazy smirk and bad hair style. They called in WU to deliver the goods. I wonder how they got his number ...



"The goods" included a box filled with gummi worms (I haven't weighed the box but estimates are around 8 lbs.) and the traditional SHS personalized C-clamp with a few crisp bills attached. (If you're not a frequent visitor of Home Depot, check out the practical uses of a C-clamp here.)

My personalized flair included everything from a picture of the dogs to running shoes and a WSU basketball net to a plastic baby.

Side A Flair:


Side B Flair:


Here's to five+ years of having a great job and working with really good people.

Fetus update

Its eyes have begun to move to the front of its head, its tail is fully dissolved and its grown to approximately the size of an apple—but beyond that, our little fetus is developing in much more important ways.

Since experiencing its first concert, our little bundle of amniotic fluid has had several other firsts over the past couple of weeks— its first taste of Tabouli (not to mention its second, third, fourth … well you get the point, mama likes the bulgar wheat), its first time being labeled a "liberal" (sharing nutrients obviously indicates prenatal Socialist tendencies), its first wedding (coincidentally also its first exposure to chicken fingers) and its first college basketball game (I have to admit, the face paint was a bit tricky to apply).

Carrie is also beginning to show a bit and has resorted to what I've been introduced to as "the rubber band trick" which I think has little to do with the baby and more to do with the aforementioned Tabouli—either way it seems to make life more comfortable for everyone.

On the right side of history.

All politics aside, last night was historic. For me, and my entire generation, it was the first time we had a chance to witness (and become an active participant) in a positive aspect of American history. My grandparents witnessed the freeing of Europe, my parents saw man walk on the moon, but up to this point my connection to American history revolved solely around space shuttle explosions, wars, natural disasters—and of course one of the worst man-made disasters the world has ever seen. But now, no matter what happens from here on out, I can hold on to last night.

We're not the only ones.

www.dooce.com

… oh and don't forget to vote. Carrie and I casted our ballots on Saturday and I don't think we've ever enjoyed it more.