What do you think the sex(es) of the twins will be?

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Dan-niversary, Part II

Ten Things I Love About Dan(dle):

1. I love watching Dan skateboard. He does all these amazing tricks that look impossible and effortless at the same time.

2. He is so supportive of the things I care about: namely, writing. He reads articles about writing, lets me go away to colonies and conferences, tells me I'm amazing when I'm feeling less-than-so.

3. He's so easy going. I can be downright mean sometimes and he just brushes it off. He goes with the flow.

4. He doesn't need much. He's completely unattached to things (okay, maybe except for his skateboard and new launch ramp).

5. He's very quirky. 'Nough said.

6. He doesn't like chocolate much. I love this because it means more chocolate for me.

7. He does a lot of dishes. Even when I'm lazy and haven't done them in awhile.

8. He has an amazing family. I couldn't have handpicked a better one.

9. He loves Pumpkin. I always knew that I would need to find someone who loved my cat. Pet hair allergies were a deal breaker. He loves my cat.

10. He is a smarty pants. He makes me want to be smarter, want to be more curious about the world. He makes me think hard about hard things.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

My Sixth Dan-niversary

Tomorrow Dan and I will have been married for six years. They have been good years, not without heartbreak, but there has been much more heart than break.

I have been looking through our wedding photos today, and listening to Carla Morrison, and reading poems, and feeling a little nostalgic.

I just read this poem by Sharon Olds that reminded me of our rainy wedding day:

The Elopement

It was raining upwards, sideways, each
tree bursting with rain like brilliant
sweat. We stopped at a country store
to ask where we could get married. There were vats
of pickles, barrels of square yellow crackers,
the Prop. gave us the local J.P.'s
number. It was gently misting, in there,
brine and cracker-salt. The J.P. asked
if we'd get married in his church. While he called his minister
I wandered, in the dark, store
air, past the columns of vertebrate tin.
The shelves, and floor, and counters were old
wood, there must have been mice in the building,
rats, a cat, roaches, beetles,
and, in the barrel, whatever makes water
pickle, the mother of vinegar, it was
a spore of Eden, a bestiary,
the minister said Yes, come right on over,
but maybe we had been married, there,
by matter, by the pickles, by the crackers, by the balls
of guard-fur, the rats looking away
into the long reaches, like the cows
in the manger, by the creche, though there's always one
who widens her glowing eyes, and gazes--one
rat, transfixed by mortal coupling
grabbed the Dutch Girl cocoa tin in his
arms and spun her in a dervish mazurka,
then all the witnesses waltzed, the Campbell's-soup
twins, the Gerber baby, Aunt
Jemima, Betty Crocker, the Sun Maid
raisin girl, the oats Quaker,
the chef of Cream of Wheat, every
good, mild, family guest
danced at our marriage, cloudy ions in the
cucumber-barrel spiraled, our eggs and
sperm swam in tandem, in water-
ballet, the spores of the sky whirled and
kissed on our wedding day.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Decking the studio apartment with boughs of pine


Today I turned on Bing Crosby's "How Lovely is Christmas" (a Van Orman family tradition) and wrapped presents while singing along to, "An axe, an apple and a buckskin jacket - that's all I want for me! An axe, an apple and a buckskin jacket, under the Christmas tree!" Then I put up some lights Dan found on the side of the road and hung some snowflakes I made the other day. Instead of a tree, we have a homemade wreath I made with fresh pine boughs on Wednesday at our church's annual wreathmaking event. Things are starting to look Christmas-y around here except there's no snow.

But doing all this has left me feeling a little melancholy today. I love Christmas with Dan and friends in Massachusetts, but my heart always longs to be in Utah. Maybe Danta will let us go home next year if we're really good.