The best made plans...

Saturday was our 5th anniversary. In some ways, it doesn't hardly seem possible that it's already been five years since we said "We DO!" in front of God, our families, and friends. In others, single life seems like light years ago!
We didn't have big plans for our anniversary. We were planning a much needed and overdue date night out. Grandma and Grandpa Held were going to keep Rachel overnight- which meant we could go see a movie. I've recently finished the Hunger Games trilogy and with enough pleading, Nick finally relented and said we could go see the movie. While he finished planting corn, I cleaned the bathroom and threw a load of towels in the washer. As the washer hit the spin cycle, I could hear what sounded like a cascade of water. My fears were confirmed when I went down to find water gushing out of the pipe the washer drains into. Hmmm...
I flagged Nick down. He was equally thrilled to hear that we had a leak. After trying the snake, he determined there wasn't a clog and went outside to check the grinder pump. Sure enough, the pump wasn't pumping. Melvin was called in and the real fun began. I'll make a long story short. We did not go to a movie. We did not go to dinner at the Schnizelbank. But we have found a very wonderful plumber that as far as I'm concerned, we will use forever and ever. As if wading around in our sewage filled yard didn't qualify him for Dad of the Year... Melvin then delivered a pizza to our door, which we enjoyed while watching tv on our sofa.
My friend Alison asked what I thought 10 years of wedded bliss will bring. Only time will tell...but hopefully it will bring working plumbing! :)

Did you know?

Tuesday morning, Nick asked me if I'd seen his cell phone. I hadn't- but the fact that he didn't know where it was explained why he hadn't answered when I called on Monday. I mentioned that fact and he said "Did it go to voicemail?" I said, no, it rang first. He had just tried calling his cell phone in an attempt to locate it and it had gone directly to voicemail.

Have you ever been given a peice of information and after a few seconds of your brain processing it- a small pit forms in your stomach?

I had washed Nick's outside work jeans the previous afternoon. Because Rachel woke up from her nap before I threw them in the dryer, they were still in the washer. Guess what else was in the washer. Did you know that you can't wash a cell phone? I must have missed that section in the laundry section of the Martha Stewart Handbook.

The good news is that it has been a few years since we've gotten new cell phones and according to Verizon, we were eligible for an upgrade.

This is not the first time that I have washed an electronic item. Last time it was my MP3 player (a much loved gift from Nick Christmas 2006). It was strawberry season. I was in what felt like my 10th year of pregnancy. I had orders for pre-picked strawberries coming out of my ears. (Why pick them yourself when you can have the incredibly pregnant lady do it for you?). Before I went out to pick berries, I had washed a load of clothes and went to put them in the dryer. When I turned on the dryer, something was making the most obnoxious racket. Upon investigation, my heart sank... it was my MP3 player. Drat. My first thought was that I would have to pick strawberries without music to listen to. My second thought was that it was a long way until Christmas and my birthday before I could request a new one. Double drat.

Rather than tell Nick that my MP3 player is apparently not waterproof, I got online. After all, I didn't want him to think that I was so careless as to leave it in my pocket and wash it. Turns out, I could replace it for $25... a couple of clicks and it was in the mail! Fast forward a few days...It was a Saturday afternoon. Nick was working around the house and who should pull up but Mr. FedEX. Of course, Nick then asked what I had purchased. DARN FedEx guy and his ill-timed deliveries. I was THIS close to an exact replacement without anyone being the wiser.

This time it was still me doing the washing...but it was someone else leaving something in the pockets.

Moral of the story: Always Check ALL Pockets prior to washing laundry.

What is love?

About 2 weeks ago, our baby chicks arrived and I despite having my own chick to keep me occupied, I'm still enjoying the daily task of taking care of them. Last night, while watching a movie, I realized that I'd forgotten to check on the chicks one last time. I wanted to make sure their water was full and the heat lamps were on. It was beginning to storm and I figured I'd better get to it before it really let loose. Much to my surprise, I was not the only thing checking on the baby chicks. Under the table in the garage was a big, fat, ugly opossum. Opossums are really, really UGLY. Did I mention he was big? Anyways, he saw me about the same time I saw him. We've had some trouble in recent months with our laying hens and opossums and I didn't want my baby chicks to fall into the same fate. Inside I went...with some big, fat raindrops beginning to fall and lightning lighting my way as I made my way from the garage to the house. Nick was all kicked back upstairs watching tv. The conversation went as follows:
Me: Um, Nick.
Him: Yeah.
Me: There's a big, fat opossum in the garage with the baby chicks.
Him: Ok. (pause) What did you want me to do about it? (I presume that he had already noted the less than desirable weather outside).
Me: Well, can't you go out there and scare it off or something?
Him: (sigh) Ok. (probably inwardly cursing me and my little chicken hobby).
It's important to note that by this time, the heavens had opened, and it was pouring cats and dogs outside.
I heard him go down to the basement and I presumed he got the shotgun as well as his boots. I settled back onto the sofa and resumed my movie watching. After about 10 minutes or so...I hadn't heard the gun and I hadn't heard Nick come back in. I wondered what was going on, so I decided to go check on him. He would have heard me coming, if it wasn't for the raging thunderstorm and it wasn't until I realized I'd just startled a man holding a gun did I think that maybe that wasn't such a good idea. He'd reinforced the tub with the chicks by holding down the screen top with some shelving that used to be in the old kitchen. The opossum wasn't there... and rather than taking a quick glance and coming back in, Nick was being thorough in his search.
So, to answer the question posted above- what is love? Love is...going out in a torrential downpour to check on your wife's baby chickens (technically, they're Melvin's...but I'm kind of attached to them already) and save them from big, ugly opossums when what you'd rather be doing at 10:30pm is watching tv. THAT is what love is.
Which is why I didn't say anything about the muddy bootprints on the kitchen landing.
I (and the baby chicks) LOVE YOU, NICK!