Call me “Black Cat”

Ok, so I may have mentioned previously that my family’s company, SmugMug, take some very interesting portraits of the employees. The way it works is, uh, um, well… EveryoneGetsPaintedAsASuperHero. Whew, that was hard to admit.

No, actually I thought the idea was very fun and I really enjoyed seeing all the pictures.

Until.

I visited headquarters in CA and had to step up and get my own face painted. Woah. Fun, but the pictures are a bit… um… incriminating?

Officially, I am dressed up as Black Cat, a love interest of Spiderman (other than Kirsten Dunst, I guess). Someone jokingly suggested a dog collar for Scott and thus I bring you… Anne’s Most Embarrassing Blog Post To-Date:

Dinner tonight

No pictures, but we had this yummy cider-honey glazed salmon and some delicous new potatoes with fresh basil from our plants.

We used white onion instead of shallots, chopped the potatoes, didn’t make the spinach bed for the salmon to lay on, put tons of extra basil in, and didn’t measure a thing. Miraculously, it all came together and was a great Sunday meal for us!

Marriage, and all that entails

Scott woke up bolt-upright in bed Friday night. Alarmed, I ask him if everything was ok.

“I’m not sure,” he said. And, without further explanation, he got out of bed, walked into the bathroom, turned the light on, closed the door, and I heard the sink water running.

Puzzled, but too groggy to investigate further, I patiently waited for him to return.

He did, after only a minute or two in the bathroom. Again, I asked him if everything was ok.

His reply?

“Yeah, sorry. I thought my eyeball had exploded.”

And with that, we both went back to sleep.

The next morning, he explained quite logically that he had DREAMED his eyeball exploded, awoken with the sensation of blood on his hands and calmly walked to the bathroom to wash the blood off.

Dear Husband,

If ever again you think your eyeball may have exploded, please let me know. Washing the blood off your hands is probably not the highest priority in a situation like that. Plus, I love you enough to look at you at three in the morning and reassure you with a straight face that both eyes are as they should be. It would at least save you a trip to the bathroom.

Love,
Your wife Anne

A Pleasant Way to Spend a Saturday

I was tense as soon as I woke up yesterday, because I had overslept and I worried that I had already missed some precious Potter time.

For those of you who aren’t aware, the 7th and final book in the fantastic Harry Potter series was released yesterday. (Don’t worry, no spoilers here)

My mom and I had both ordered it on Amazon for “release-day delivery” and usually FedEx delivers before noon on Saturdays. So, I dashed down in my jammies and checked the front porch. No Potter. I had some breakfast and got ready for the day, making sure Scott was available to listen for a “thump” on the porch while I was out of earshot taking a shower. No luck.

We left at noon for a church BBQ at a nearby park, and I managed to put the book out of my mind and

had a great time catching up with friends (who I had sorely neglected between vacation time and headaches). Scott and I, as always, were oddities because rather than pile our plates with the burgers, dogs, white buns, chips, and desserts that were in abundance, we ate: Portabello burgers that were brought from home and grilled with garlic and onion, topped with fresh tomato, and put on slices of homemade whole wheat bread with a homemade basil mustard sauce.

Well, ok. Scott ate those. I think that’s kinda gross, a giant juicy mushroom with mustard. Bleh. Our contribution to the potluck was a spinach salad and a bowl of red grapes. I ate those things, as sadly there wasn’t much else on the tables that struck my fancy. Why does summer say greasy meat, oily chips and sugary sweets to lots of people? To me it says fresh, crisp, colorful fruits and veggies. Ah well, I’ve had my share of craving sugary sweets in the last few weeks (see my two previous posts where I posted pictures of my chocolate indulgences while on vacation).

We arrived home from the barbecue in very good spirits as we had a fun rest of the day planned: I had a four hour shift answering help emails for SmugMug (which I love to do on Saturdays because our customers tend to be very laid back, friendly, and appreciative on their weekends) and we were going to see a late movie with some good friends (Meet the Robinsons. Fabulous, see it and bring your kids. It reminded us of Emperor’s New Groove and it’s the best Disney movie in a long time.).

However, a few hours before my shift started, I realized I had not yet received my book! I called my mom and the first words out of her mouth confirmed to me that she hadn’t received hers either. Alarmed, she quickly looked online and discovered that mine was still scheduled to be delivered today and hers had been delivered to “the dock” and signed for by “Keith”. Uh-oh, it was too late in OH for a delivery to still be on its way, and Keith certainly didn’t seem on the up-and-up.

And then, Scott walks in the door, having made a trip to the mailbox. In his arms, he carried this:

Sneaky UPS had delivered my book to the USPS yesterday, and had our mailman bring it by with our regular mail. An instant later I was on the phone with my mom, basking in the glow of a crisp 750+ page volume of goodness, and assuring her that I’m sure “Keith” would give the book to her mailman to deliver.

Moments later, my brother got online, very concerned because some man named “Keith” had signed for his book at “the dock”. I reassured him that Harry Potter was probably safely aboard the mail truck and on his way.

Then, I dove in. I only had 1 1/2 hours until work, and then a 1 hour break before the movie.

Scott would like me to add here that anyone whose comments include a spoiler about the book will die a slow and painful death. He’s waiting for me to finish so he can start. What a guy.