David and I completed the first 100 days of our marriage on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2018. Of those first 100 days, my last daily blog post was December 2.
I remember you worked, and then came home because the office was empty. I was with Rocky. When you returned home, we loaded up the car again and made the drive to my family’s home in Connecticut to spend the holiday. We missed seeing Tom. He was en route to Maine for the holiday. The girls were in Europe, your mom in Arkansas. We skipped your dad’s because of Rocky.
We arrived before my parents, who were coming home from a Christmas party. I remember the next day: full of family, food and companions! Zack and Curtis came with Duke. Rocky played happily. Chloe rocked her senility. It was cold, but nice for walking. There was a dusting of old snow still on the ground. We talked entirely too much about pest control. It was nice to be fireside in the living room. We exchanged presents!
In the week leading up to Christmas, I started work as a children’s librarian in Rye, New York. That first week was a treat, and it was nice to commute from Greenwich where we house-sat your Chapel Lane childhood home.
I love my work. I will write about it as my next blog theme. There’s a lot grad school didn’t teach me that I’m learning now, a lot still to be learned, and a lot learned that has yet to be relevant.
The days leading up to Christmas were a blur. My internship with EveryLibrary ended, and my final day of grad school for my Master’s of Library Science (MLIS) was December 18. I last wrote about food (Cream of Broccoli Soup). I like communicating through food. In the weeks before and after the holiday we shared a lot of takeout, leftovers and grocery story filler trip food items.
It was so nice to start the new year with a clean kitchen. I’m remembering us in breathing masks, going full swing with caulking guns, the new mop, bleach, insecticide, and dish towels.
Today we returned home from our new year retreat in the Catskills (my Christmas present to you). The king size bed upgrade, the sugar cookies, the late night french fries, Jackson, the walk around town, to Pennsylvania, and the storm hike with hail that looked like vanilla Dip and Dots ice cream. I remember gorging on the extravagant breakfasts, the naps, the sniffling. Then there were the luxurious shower supplies, the fireside rummy game, the conversations. I remember one that began with me saying marriage didn’t seem to feel so different, and you taking the other position but elaborating little.
You lit up when we were driving back across the George Washington bridge. Back to your city where success, wealth and victory hides in every corner.
Back to the world of League, where things are less shiny and you play games on end. I watch your gameplay chat like a concerned mom-type. “Hey, that’s like the meanest thing you can say.” And celebrating your team’s little victories. Another game cues to the sound of Newt Gingrich and Christopher Hitchens debating the nature of the “war on terrorism”.
So what’s next? Past the first 100 days? I love you, and I’m excited to see.