This is a blurb, is it? Well. I'm 23, I love horses, books, dogs, writing, philosophy, and also chocolate. The latter is preferred with peanut butter and is accepted in donated forms.
Greetings! Sorry to have been so out of touch with you all, we just got back from Florida Saturday night (where it was 85 and sunny, but I'm not bitter about coming back to the midwest) and I don't have internet at the new house yet.
But here I am, having dropped in on my unsuspecting family so that I could check on my horse and my e-mail.
Thank-you all so much for your kind thoughts, congratulations, wishes and prayers! I am indeed blessed in my friends.
I do have a post in my head that is titled something like The Many Married Adventures of Jeremy & Kristin and it will be all about the fun people that we met and building sand castles at the beach and how Jeremy and I navigate. Jeremy navigates by looking at maps and throwing them out, and occasionally asking for directions and then deciding half-way through that he has a better idea. Since my idea of how to use a map is to smack him with it (I repented!), I wasn't much help. But we had a good time and it was a learning experience and we feel Officially Married and besides, the nice thing about knowing each-other fifteen years is that we're quite comfortable and at home arguing with each-other.
Interesting note about this meeting fun people thing, I never meet any fun people when I go anywhere because I never speak to anyone if I can help it and I avoid all eye contact at all times. I will admit that life is much more memorable when you go about it Jeremy's way, which is to make direct eye contact and conversation with everyone on the bus and I am sad to think of the conversations with strangers I probably miss when I go places by myself.
So, anyway. Pictures later, lately I have been working on unpacking.
This took a while at first, because since this is the first time I've ever set up my own house I have been haunted and distracted by that lethal voice that whispers in the ear of every woman "You don't know what you're doing! One day someone who Really Knows What They're Doing will come visit and tell you that you did it wrong."
But when that starts I shake my head and say sweet and uplifting things to myself like "There is no wrong way, dummy."
After all, it isn't like we're talking about Moral Laws here. We're talking about where in the kitchen is the best place for an onion chopper.
If I really wanted too, I remind myself, I could keep my onion chopper in the washer. Haha!
That would be perhaps be weird, but it would not be wrong. Take that, you little voice.
Being fortified by these thoughts, I am able to throw off the shackles of centuries of repression and do whatever I want. It is more fun that way.
I like to do whatever I want. How wonderful is homemaking--calling the shots, planning the day, doing what I want when I want...well, you know, the command man does have a say, but he usually lets me run my own show when it comes to creating and keeping the home ;)
Maybe you could just avoid the problem of figuring out where to put the onion chopper and avoid eating onions altogether...(I have mixed feelings about onions, ugh...)
Hahaha! That was a fun read! =D I probably miss a whole lot too, since my approach is very much like your's, apparently. I can see that it would be very nice Jeremy's way, but I'm too shy to bring myself to do that. And I wouldn't be able to think of anything to say, most likely. Mayhaps if we ever get to go out and visit you all, he can teach me a thing or two. Or a dozen. Or maybe more. We'll just have to see. =) I'm glad you're doing well and are happy.
^Or he'll just embarrass you to death.
We went to the movies a couple days ago. It was very, very crowded (sold out) people in line all the way out the door. Several people had been holding a place in line for friends, and they would call their friends, "Hey, Jenna, over here!" So Jeremy and my husband started shouting randomly at nobody in particular, "Hey, BOB!" "Charlie!!" "JOE?"
I was afraid somebody by that name would come up and ask what they wanted, but they wouldn't have been embarrassed at all.
You sound good to me. I'm with Sally -- being the MANAGER of my home is one of the best parts of being a homemaker. And the other cool thing beyond no moral right or wrong re finding homes for your stuff is that as the manager of your home you are entitled to CHANGE the keeping places totally at your whim! I've been married more than two decades and occasionally I still announce, "We aren't keeping the plates in that cupboard anymore. Now they go here." It's one of the many little-appreciated perks of our job.
Whether and when it's appropriate to argue with your husband depends entirely on the husband and the issue and location, of course. I will say that I have been AMAZED and so impressed at the good sense and wisdom she displays about when and how to go about it, and when not to.
I am just so impressed.
Congratulations, Kristin! I posted my thoughts on my blog, since I figured it would be easier then trying to arrange it in a little comment box. God bless you, and your new husband. =)
I forgot to link directly to that entry, since I might post again before you get around to reading it. ;) So here it is, to make it easier for you to find it. =)
I'm very late, but happy anniversary to them! My parents just celebrated their 30'th. Tis a long time, particularly in this day and age. Something to be proud of! I'm always impressed by those couples you occasionally hear of who have been married for 60 or 70 years.
^^ You do realize that the number at the end of you link is which post it is, counting up from "0" starting with your most recent entry? Therefore, your link is now flawed, as you posted again. =)
Or perhaps not so briefly, we shall see what transpires.
So a dear friend of mine and I have this thing going that we call (with sarcastic tongue placed firmly in cheek) Project Perfection. Getting up early. Taking our daily walks. Self-discipline. Organization, and all that rot. Sometimes we call each other at 6:30 am to make sure we're both waking up. We're brutal like that. I say "waking up", because neither of us actually get out of bed at 6:30 am. We just start that process called "Waking Up" which is a far cry from popping out of bed with joyful hearts and glowing faces the moment the alarm goes off. (I have a comic on my door with Garfield in his pajamas and holding a cup of coffee that says "If people were meant to pop out of bed, we'd all sleep in toasters.") But our theory is, if the process begins at 6:30 am at least we're up and coherent by 8 or 9 instead of 10?
We've been engaged in this entertaining endeavor since New Year's, and we have concluded we are both slightly better than we were last year. Progress is good. We acknowledge we'll never be Perfect till after death, but we're determined to try.
And we keep forgetting to pray for a time and then we fall and skin our noses. Rather a counter-productive effort.
Yesterday I did pray, but by the end of the day it had been a very failed day as far as Project Perfection was concerned.
Elise is not involved in Project Perfection, but I compared notes with her yesterday and we agreed that if we could both make it through the next two to three weeks alive we'd be Amazing People. But we both felt very non-amazing and our days were sort of just generally dejected.
Then we had Bible Study, and I do like studies so much better when they're about other people. Better yet, I like them to be intellectual and theoretical. Purely. Those are my favourite.
But the trouble is, when you pray "God, give me what you know I need" He is very inclined to do so. And evidently I didn't need to have a perfectly organized and structured day, rather I needed to be reminded to-
"Take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours become a stumbling block to them that are weak...Through thy knowledge shall the weak brother perish for whom Christ died?"
Rom. 8:9 & 11
I tell you, I was appalled. I have read that passage so many times and it never struck me that it is through my knowledge that a brother is destroyed. Knowledge is good! Right? I love knowledge!
But charity trumps.
One of our wise elders pointed out that nowhere in that passage are we told to "instruct" the weak. Rather, encourage. They're not sinning. Let them be. Knowledge is only an asset insofar as it instructs us on how to better love others. When knowledge becomes destructive and discouraging, you are not the better for it. You are worse off than the weak, for you are arrogant and frankly pointless. Your knowledge is not wanted. Charity is wanted.
How distressing. Pardon me while I hide under my bed and bewail my lack of perfection.
But God doesn't want that either, He wants rather my devotion and full trust in His grace. So I shall continue to pray.
And I did begin this morning with a prayer, and it was indeed answered. I am reminded once again that "my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness."
Am I going to abandon this endeavour with my friend? Of course not. For one thing, it is really too much fun. For another, I do believe I am called upon to do the best that I can do. I must simply remember that in the end I am still a lowly, sinful, child of God. Living only by His power, and saved only by His grace.
Well, if you're saying "Project Perfection" with your tongue placed firmly in your cheek, I think the pronunciation would need some perfecting too. Probably starting with taking the tongue out of the cheek, since that would help a whole lot. ;) But, really, this was a very good post. =D
And also because I'm interested in any occupation that does not involve the research and purchasing of flora.
Mind, all the roses at BigRose.com were beautiful and it was fun for a time to laugh at the variety names such as Averil, Anna, and Baccarat. After trying to convince my sisters to go with a black variety, and after Krystal pointed out in a devastatingly logical way that black roses will not go with black blouses, we selected Vendela (creamy white) and the 18 for $45 special.
But we could not order, for the life of us. Krystal, Rebecca, and I tried to figure out the process for twenty minutes. Either we're stupid or there is something wrong with the site. I cling to the latter.
And now! Eight Random Facts About Me- (But I'm not really random, you just can't think as fast as me. So there.)
(Sorry. That's a Facebook flair I'm fond of.)
*I love the ocean with a passion but I can't swim.
*I am right-handed but wear my watch on my left wrist. This is to confuse authorities if I ever commit a crime that will have obviously been committed by a right-handed person.
*I was in a television commercial when I was four.
*When I open a CD case, I fully expect to find in said case the actual CD named on the title. If it is not the CD named on the title but rather a random CD someone found lying about somewhere and stuffed in the first empty case they saw then I am inclined to become irate and my sisters are inclined to want very strongly to gag me and lock me up in a closet until I quit fussing about it.
*I'm by nature a disorganized and rather lazy slob whose life goal is Reformation. Check up on me when I'm 80, see how I did. I'm curious too.
*I have an extra bone in my foot.
*I lost my first retainer, purchased another, and lost it too. That latter I lost in my sleep and no one has found it since. Disturbing, I agree.
*Unless it is very cold and the coffee is very good, I prefer all my drinks (coffee, tea, whatever) to be iced.
*An Edit to Random Fact # 2-
This one has generated some controversy and I am amused. When I first got a watch and wore it on my non-dominant hand I did think I was being normal. I later assumed it was abnormal because a handful of people asked me why I wear my watch that way and exhibited some surprise. I concluded therefore that it must be abnormal. But lo and behold, now I'm being told I'm normal after all and it was just the people who asked who were weird. How nice to be normal for once. :-D
These were way cool. :) I have a friend who once "misplaced" the bridge in his mouth. I told him exactly where he could find it. He thought I HAD to be wrong, so he went in for an x-ray, and there it was. :D
I'll tell you the rest of that story in private sometime. O_o
I don't think we could have ordered roses online when I got married in 2000... definitely not for that price and definitely not in December. Good job! :)
I'm trying to figure out your second fact. It's normal for a right-handed person to wear their watch on their left wrist. it keeps it out of the way when writing and such. The Twin, who is left-handed, wears his on his right wrist. There are some interesting looking roses out there. When we were looking for a type to mimick for the cake for the campout, I found some green roses. =P I agree with her, and with the ones you decided on. They look like a very nice color. =) Oh, and your a disorganized person who can't abide having a CD in the wrong place... This seems a bit contradicory to me. ;)
Aren't watches supposed to be worn on the left wrist? Something about it being on the non-dominant hand so that it gets less wear-and-tear. I think you need to come up with another random fact, because that one is way too logical!
^ I'm right-handed and wear a watch on my left wrist. (When I have a watch, that is.) Andrew is right-handed and always wears his on his right wrist, which I couldn't tolerate.
That would have been Venus crashing into Mars. It made quite a mess.
My rather cool and dispassionate self that is displayed towards humans finds its balance (if such it can be called) in my utterly unreasonable devotion to my four-footed friends, a devotion that lingers on even after the passing of life.
And thus it was that my poor and ridiculous self was rather wounded when in the course of casual conversation Jeremy inquired into the burial grounds of my late horse, the decomposition process, and our water supply. (How utterly left-brained, I know.)
I must admit I was a bit ashamed of myself even at the time, because it did sound ridiculously like Mrs. Bennet. "You have no compassion on my poor nerves!"
So there I was, with all those delightful adjectives like "Insensitive, Tactless" and there was poor Jeremy, in frustration using practical phrases like "Issues that Must Be Addressed."
In the end I resorted to humour as an alternative to hanging up on him (a sign of progress, if I may say so myself) and began to mimic him. He cracked up. "Is that what I really sound like?"
"No," I had to reply honestly. "That's only what you sound like when I'm doing a caricature of you."
"A what?"
"A caricature of you. I have a collection," said I, with remarkable venom.
Jeremy, still laughing, wanted to hear them all.
Actually, I had no such collection to hand after all (of course not), but I am quick with my tongue if not with my head and a mere moment later could be heard in a gruff voice saying things like "That's irrational women for you!" and "I would have had this wedding done a month ago if I'd been in charge!"
We both agreed they were excellent and very funny imitations. Jeremy asked me if he could do ones of me and I had to agree. (All's fair in love and war, after all, and this was a bizarre combination of both.)
"I can't get the words as well as you can", he said, "but I know exactly what you sound like when you're mad."
There followed a stream of high-pitched little squeals that I had to admit did indeed sound like Beaker from the Muppets, who does indeed sound like me when I'm mad.
My early marriage stories are told the way they are told because of the journey our marriage has been. If you had met me, say, around the ten-year mark, I might have sounded snarkier, I am ashamed to have to admit. Marriage is hard, and good marriage is harder, but it is so worth the sacrifice of energy, self-will, and self-interest.
