Operation kitchen!

The project begins. Our quaint country kitchen is completely dismembered this week. We're painting our worn-out wood cabinetry and replacing our countertops to give our little kitchen a facelift. Last weekend, we removed the upper cabinets and primed them for painting. We've spent hours lately working on the doors and removing hardware, sanding, and cleaning. Hence, the slack in posts lately (sorry!).

Yes, we're back to DIY-land. It seems like there are 500 steps now before the kitchen/dining room (one big area) is completely finished, but we're taking things one step at a time. Or at least, I'm trying to wait patiently for my fresh, crisp kitchen.

If there is a true trial and test for a relationship, it's a home project. Think about it: "redecorating" or "renovating" is really just costly and complicated upheaval. We have an older house, so things aren't always square or plumb. And when it comes to tape measures and levels: I. Have. No. Patience.

"Just do it!" I have been known to say.

On the other hand, my husband is precise and exact about his construction projects in the same way that I obsess over words and magazines. When Patrick goes into project mode, he's like a mad artist.

So, readers, bid farewell to that cozy kitchen in the photo above. Project tales and photos to come! For tips that helped us get started: Check out YHL's helpful cabinet-painting guide.

Happy birthday, EJD!

One of the absolute coolest things about growing up: realizing the worth of your siblings. I'm lucky to have three of them. They're friends that transcend trends and life stages. Emma (in the stunning bowl haircut and lovely mustard sweater, above, circa 1990.) turns 25 today. I'd be worried that she'll take offense to the photo above, but notice my double chin and 8-year-old front teeth. Happy birthday, sweet friend and sister, champion rower, wounded-bird healer, wonderful woman.

Monday Moment: Berry Nice

"What a Wonderful World" croons in the background, and I'm thinking sentimentally that I can't believe I'm dancing with my dad at my wedding. These are the moments that sometimes feel awkward at a wedding. And then Dad whispers to me, "I'll say a berry, then you say a berry. ... boysenberry." I smiled.

Me: "Blueberry?"
Dad: "Cranberry."
Me: "Strawberry."

By this time we are giggling, and the awkwardness melts away. We are laughing too hard.

How's married life?

Everyone: "So, how's married life?" 

Me/Patrick: How on earth do I articulate the answer to this question?! "It's good." 

"How is married life?" is a tough question to answer. You walk the line. You either really get into it like the person who gets into the particulars when you ask, "how are you?"expecting only a "fine." Or you feel lame when you smile and say, "It's good." 

Since we lived together before the wedding, not much has changed day-to-day. In this way, married life is a lot like unmarried life. But some things do change, or at least feel different. Fun things ... dates, talking about the future, painting walls and hanging photos. And not-so-fun-but-very-important things ... joint bank accounts, name changes, expectations. So, it's much less complicated to answer, "married life is fine." Or even make a joke, "So far, so good!" 

I wanted to share, though, some really great advice recently from a friend who is maybe more thoughtful and precise than anyone I've known. She said, "I just think about what that person is interested in and answer it from that angle." So, one person who is into budgets and investing says, "How's married life?" She talks about how they're figuring out where to spend and save. Another person who is interested in decorating asks. She answers that they're still putting things away and getting organized. 

I'm trying to put these suggestions into practice, but I think sometimes it's more important to ask this question of yourself/your spouse, "How is our married life? How are we making married life great today?"

Magazine lady

Some women have cats. Others wear leopard print. Others have 1,000 pairs of shoes. I hoard magazines. I love magazines. 

When a new cover arrives, I have been known to lose awareness of everything else and get lost in flipping through each page. Before reading, I mentally note the paper choices, the gloss varnishes, the design, the writing, the photo cropping -- all as though my opinion matters. It's a sick passion I have for magazines, writing, and design. It's my day job, actually. 

So, imagine my dismay this week when Conde Nast followed other major corporations and folded three titles, Modern Bride, Elegant Bride, and Gourmet. Indeed, the world of magazines is changing. In the last year, it was bye bye to the budget decor niche -- Cottage Living (my favorite!), Blueprint, and Domino. 

We can now download Grapes of Wrath to our iPhones or read the New York Times online. We get e-newsletters, e-coupons, e-mail receipts. None of this is news to anyone reading this blog.

In light of all of the magazine doom and gloom, I recently disovered the answer to the loss of Cottage and its cohorts, a new Web "magazine," Lonny. Wonderful writing, creative design, cool content ... but you can't hold it in your hand? It's an online flip-through PDF. Is this the future of magazines? 

Monday Moment: Gifts

A sentiment I shared often during our engagement was that it was humbling to receive so many gifts from others just for being happy. Showers, cards, cash, wedding gifts, registries, and kind words. And there are monogrammed wedding party flasks or keychains (we skipped those) and “thank you” gifts (we gave those).

I gave Patrick a Magnolia seedling for our wedding, packaged in a simple burlap sack. No, it's not like Kate Hudson's "love fern" from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Patrick's a plant guy. Get him around a seed or sprout or any kind of living, growing thing and he is fascinated and wildly talented at making that thing thrive. If his green thumb applies to our life, metaphorically, I'm on solid ground. I received a necklace that, when clasped around my neck, made Patrick look proud. I wore it to the ceremony. I was kind of floored at the thought of giving my groom a gift. Isn’t your wedding your gift to one another, your heart? As with most things in life, I overanalyzed and considered and searched for the ideal card, the one item that would convey the journey we took together. FAIL. Impossible. Humbling. But the giving was worth it.

Holy honeymoon

This week has been a little hectic, so I'm missing the crystal waters and blue skies of Nassau. I needed a moment this morning to remember what exactly that looked like. So, I thought I'd post a little breathing space for you, too.

So sorry for slacking in posts. I promise to write again soon. On the upcoming blog roster: nesting, cake baking fiascos, how to answer the question, "how's married life?," and tales from a gift registry alumna.