9 years, and counting...

Then:



and Now:



...and we are still each other's best friends and most honest critic. And instead of getting up to meet to get breakfast at the University cafeteria, we now meet in our kitchen for coffee early in the morning...

Happy Anniversary Babe.

Some lace, lots of chocolate, and strep?

I had to live vicariously through Greg these last few weeks. While I grappled with backpacks and homework, he took a business (military) trip through England, Germany, France and Belgium.

I heard from him every couple of days, and he recounted (at my request) what he ate and drank, and the sites he saw. It brought back memories of travelling with him. And because I am ruled by my stomach, what I was most jealous of was that he got to eat authentic cuisine and drink hearty, warm beer.

As a consolation prize, dearest Greg brought back two loves of mine: linen and chocolate. A little Belgian lace goes a long way in my book...I still have our lace curtains and pillowcases we bought from Brussels a few years ago, of which I have not displayed because I am afraid that they will be forever stained by my little ones.

This time around he brought home a table cover with matching napkins.



A little more dangerous is Belgian chocolate. I now have few bars of several kinds and they are all resting in the refrigerator. As you can see, I only pictured one here, but I am quite selfish when it comes to sweet stuff, I don't even like to photograph it ;) . These chocolates are my stash, and I have been enjoying a morsel at a time since he came home almost a week ago.



Since his arrival, unfortunately, Greg has been banished to the couch in the family room. Though I expected to pass the baton with some of the children's needs when he got home, he has been coughing and complaining of a severe sore throat. I think it's Strep. Poor guy...but then again, I wouldn't mind getting sick for 2 weeks worth of a European getaway ;).

At least I have my fluff for the week :)

Greg and I would not do well on the Amazing Race.

I am convinced.

Today Greg took the van to get serviced at a nearby city. 20 or so minutes after he left I received a phone call from him: my dear husband was lost and could not find his way out of the suburbs. Absolutely refusing to get out of the van and to ask someone for directions, he insisted I navigate him out.

Feeling such frenzy, knowing his phone battery was not charged (doh!), I searched for and found the map.

This should be easy... Greg and I are experienced travellers. We drove through and around Germany/France/Luxembourg/Belgium many many times over, not knowing the language, and going by our instincts. Road trips are our bag, really!

He mentioned the streets as he passed them, and I gave him directions on where to go...

T: Ok, now turn right at the next intersection
G: What?
T: Turn right when you get the next intersection
G: Are you sure? I don't think so!
T: Do you trust me? I am reading the map and you need to turn right
G: is that West?
T: Yes
G: Right?
T: Yes! Turn right!
G: Are you sure?
T: Do you have the map? I have the map and you need to do what I say!
G: I did turn right, but I don't think you're right!

Silence

G: oh, oh..now I know where we are...

Gah!

Greg and I decided that when it was time for us to apply the Amazing Race that we would not mention this incident.

Instead we will mention that my iron stomach can handle a few crickets and he is a master historian (good selling points, right)


p.s...he apologized by the way, numerous times, and with treats in hand.