Covered in Cat

It has been liberating to replace the robust hum of the boiler with the sounds of Spring peepers and chirping birds. Needing neither heat nor A/C, we are in that glorious place between seasons when the air is so mild that we open windows and invite it to play. Most afternoons, the cats come and go as they please with an open-door policy to the screened-in porch. 

But this time of year, the nights are still cold, dropping sometimes to 38 degrees. Inside these stucco walls with no insulation, the first story of the farmhouse is cave-like, maintaining a 55 - 65 degree constant. Before the afternoon sun can heat up the house, the mornings here are chilly, leaving me wonder if perhaps we packed away the down comforter too soon.

But never fear... like me, the kitty-kids do not like to be chilly. So I've found myself a new kind of down comforter. With Sprout wrapped around my head, Potter nestled against my right side and Albus on my left (they always snuggle in this formation, by the way), I wake up covered in cat almost every morning. 

The post-winter world is waking up with greens that push through the soil, yawning with outstretched tendrils, shaking off sleep.

 And I wake up 

covered in a 

furry, 

purr-y 

pile of cat.

A Winter Without Snow?

Richmond weather has been a bit unusual this year, with the mildest winter I can remember since moving here 7 years ago. Believe me, I am enjoying the warmer temps and vastly reduced heating oil bills, but it just hasn't felt like winter yet. It's already mid-January and we haven't seen a flake of snow - not even one little puff of cloud-dandruff scratched off from the winter sky's scalp. 

Here's a photo of what our backyard looked like in the snowstorm of March 2009.

A winter without snow is like a birthday party without cake and candles. There is just something about the cake ritual that makes the experience saturate.  I think it's the split-second reflection that occurs as you make a wish and blow out the candles, letting go of the year that's passed (into darkness) and embracing (the light of) the year ahead. 

Speaking of birthdays, I just had another one.  Can you believe we missed the cake and candles this year?  Mom did send me a nice box of cookies, though.  So I guess you could say that I still have a half-sense of unreality regarding my new number.  Had I experienced the ritual of cake and candles this year, however, you would never guess what this cold-fingered, heat-seeker would've wished for. 

Let there be SNOW!

WEDDING BLISS for a Mister and a Miss

On May 15, 2010,

two hearts that were one,

became one on paper, too. ♥

With 125 guests in attendance, our prayers were answered for a sunny day on the lake.

The Mister made his entrance as a single man via boat.

He marched his handsome butt up from the dock to the platform where we were to be married in front of the lake. The platform was built by his own two hands. He is a talented carpenter, that husband of mine!

My niece and nephew did an amazing job as flower girl and ring-bearer.

My Dad escorted me toward the arms of my husband-to-be.

We were supported with love from so many family members and friends.

Towards the end of the ceremony, just as we were saying our vows, a family of geese decided to swim by with their two off-spring and give us their blessings, as well.

As the afternoon sun peaked overhead, we celebrated our nuptials and danced to Gypsy Roots Swing  (a band that the Mister and I listened to on several of our first dates).

We dined on a smorgasboard of food and drink – mostly vegetarian.  Everything was so delicious! Especially the cupcake I licked off my face…

 I guess I had that one coming, though.

As the Mister and I made our get-away, we were showered (really, I mean pummeled) with hundreds of sunflower seeds. 

Then we stepped into the boat a married couple  and drifted off together on the lake.

Happily.

Ever.

After.

***All photos were taken by the very talented, Dreama Camphuysen.***