Gretchen and Jeff - a life journal

What do you do with your mate?

2011-08-07T12:47:00.000-07:00

That's not a probing question, it's actually one that really wants to get at the heart of what occurs in your house on a lazy Sunday afternoon...or any day of the week.

Right now, I'm watching as Gretchen plays video games. Unlike when I was obsessed with N64 and other game systems, she uses these to unwind and also to fill time around her other projects. While working 70 hours a week has its benefits (I can't name any), she definitely needs time to set aside work for lighter pursuits.

I'm on the couch writing a self-imposed 11 blog posts in three hours as she plays - then the two of us will go to the supermarket together. Is that something you do as a couple? Is the guy in your house responsible for some things and the woman other things? *For the guy-guy or girl-girl houses, how do you break down the work?

And after work on a regular day, is there an assigned dinner maker? Is one night a week (a month, a year) your date night? Do you have a 20-minute daily debrief over a glass of wine and a Zima like we do?

From where we sit in the Bungalow, we like to think we're pretty normal. But maybe we have blinders on. What's your routine? What special things do you do? And what keeps the sparks flying?

How about it Mike, Jennifer, Gradon, Kevin, Chris, Derek, Bobbie, CC, Lois, Todd? Give us your thoughts - and share this with others.

We'd like to find out if we're going about life the right way or if we're odd people out when it comes to chores and enjoying each other's company.

Comments open....have at it.

The Gift of the Magi

2010-12-25T06:02:00.000-08:00

For Christmas this year I gave Jeff a mini bamboo steamer for cooking shumai and gyoza snacks. He gave me a bamboo steamer for cooking vegetables.

For Christmas this year I gave Jeff two poach pods for cooking poached eggs. He gave me fried egg molds for cooking eggs in the shape of roosters.

A sign perhaps, that we were meant to be together? At least for the next year?

In for a penny, in for a pound

2010-09-11T15:55:00.000-07:00

$ 617 - New couch
$ 800 - Plumber to replace the water heater on the weekend
$ 120 - "Donation" to Animal Rescue League of Boston as a thanks for getting our
cat out of the neighbor's tree
$ 260 - New BBQ grill and various accoutrement
$ 300 - Trip to Syracuse to visit Gretchen's family
------
$2,097
That's how much we've shelled out in the last three weeks for various and extraordinary house expenses.

To be fair we've brought in cash too.
$111 - Garage sale proceeds
$150 - Sale of the futon
$600 - Garage sale proceeds of two year ago
-----
$860 - That's our cash in hand to cover these expenses

So, the total we've shelled out in the last three weeks is only $1,237. Maybe not as high as $2,097, but still overwhelming. Gulp.

One of the upsides of the cash spent is that we've decided to build a joint checking/savings account to pay monthly expenses and to build a slush fund for things like hot water heaters and vacation.

We may not be getting married (yet) but if we're in for $1,237 we're in it for the long haul.

Ideal party

2010-09-06T06:08:00.000-07:00

We hosted an impromptu BBQ last night, for all of the very very smart people who didn't schlep to the Cape this weekend.

The idea for the party was started when a girlfriend and I, while enjoying a workday lunch in Somerville's Union Square, realized our grad school gang had not seen each other in a while. She said she'd host a party, but then agreed to let me and Jeff host so we could invite other friends. The vision I had was a backyard filled with people, playing badminton while laughed echoed off the porch.

About 90 minutes before the party, while reflecting on the nine definite RSVPs which included Jeff's parents and godmother, Jeff asked me how I was feeling. Only one of my grad school pals was on the "yes" list for the party. One never even replied in spite of an email and a follow-up phone call. He then said, "I feel bad that you put so much energy into planning these parties, and then always end up being for my friends and family. I think you need to plan around them better."

My reply, "I give up too much of my own desires already. I don't want to plan parties around people who are inconsistent. I think what I need to do is adjust my expectations of the people I call my friends, particularly those with young children. Between their obligations to their children and their own families, and the alleged difficulty of traveling with kids, I can't count on them to be present when I want them to be."

Jeff countered, "I think many people don't realize the point of dragging yourself out of the house is to spend time with people you care about. If the venue is less than ideal - maybe you don't want to go to that golf tournament, or concert, or bat mitzvah - but you do want to see the person who invited you. So just go and be with the people you care about."

With that as the reflective thought for the day, we headed into the party. Jeff's best friend from childhood and his lovely wife were the first to arrive. Followed by Jeff's godmother and his parents. We sipped water and wine and caught up with one another. Then our neighbors arrived, the wife a friend of Jeff's, with their 15 year-old son, who promptly got to work setting up the badminton "court" and exploring the bocce set laid out on the dry grass. We started cooking, laying out the meager but delicious potluck. Then, to my surprise, two friends from graduate school arrived. One sans her 3 year-old daughter and the other with her two young boys in tow. We all got food and drink and settled into the grass to reconnect. When the badminton set was fully assembled we popped up and played three or four horrible but fun games while Jeff's dad took photos from the porch. As the end of the party the neighbor and her family were still here, along with two friends - sweethearts - Jeff and I have both met through social media. We did a little trash talking, poked around on the Internet and generally relaxed with one another.

It all felt nearly perfect. What would have made it perfect? If my family had been there too, and maybe a relaxed board game or card game at the end of the evening.

And, because there was such a tiny crowd, clean-up was a breeze.

The lesson for me? It's not entirely who's in the room but how you use the time that makes the ideal party.

Duped

2010-05-27T18:08:00.001-07:00

Jeff called me at work at 3:40 PM to ask if I would be at the office in the next few minutes.

"I have a meeting at 4:00," I replied.

"Okay, I'll hurry over there. I have something to give you."

"Oooh!" thought I. Earlier in the day Jeff and I had a virtual exchange about the possibility of ice cream which didn't pan out. But I knew HE had gone for a scoop or three with a friend and I immediately assumed he was bringing me an ice cream treat as solace for my inability to get out of the office to get my own.

4:00 rolls around and there is no Jeff, so I head into the conference room to run what I think is going to be a 30 minute meeting. All the while I'm day dreaming about the ice cream sundae Jeff is bringing to me. "Will he know to put it in the freezer if I'm not at my desk?" I continue, "Maybe someone will tell him to find me in the conference room and he'll hand deliver a banana split." Panicked for a moment I also thought, "Gosh! What if the place gets locked up and he can't get in? Will he eat MY ice cream? Will he wait in the parking lot with it?"

I look up at the clock and realize the meeting has been dragging on for 70 minutes. I excuse myself and run to my office, imagining a small Ben and Jerry's cup in a ceremonious puddle on my desk. But no. What I find instead is a thermal bag from the Lindt chocolate store standing upright in the middle of my workspace. I think to myself, "Do they serve ice cream? Ohh! I bet it is good!" I open the bag eagerly and find three pounds of their famous truffles. "Huh. This is odd. I bet Jeff got them for free and he thought I might enjoy them because work has been SO stressful lately. It isn't ice cream, but it is nice."

I grab the bag and head back to the conference room where the meeting is breaking up. I open each of the bags of truffles and offer them to my colleagues, and then fill our chocolate bowl.

*****

Later I speak with Jeff and learn that the truffles weren't a gift for me, but rather candy he bought for himself that he wanted me to ferry around on his behalf.

*grumble*

Different Perspectives

2010-05-23T16:52:00.000-07:00

I drew a very bad picture of Jeff while he and I sat in a bar together. I had been teasing about tattooing a flower on his forehead, or maybe drawing one in permanent magic marker. He wouldn't let me (go figure) so I got my doodlebug on by drawing his picture.

He snorted derisively and said, "That's supposed to be me? I don't look like that." I admit I'm not a remotely talented artist. But I TRIED to capture the shape of Jeff's head, his round cheeks, his messy, vaguely spikey hairstyle, and his square glasses. It wasn't a museum quality, really wasn't even a fridge-worthy, portrait. But I felt I deserved a "B" for effort.

"So I'm not a good drawer," I sniffed defensively. "You try to do better." So he did.

I have nothing else to report.

Jeffronyms

2010-03-10T18:42:00.000-08:00

Jeffronym (jeff-row-nim): An acronym for an activity/relationship that partially defines Jeff Cutler's life.

Why Jeffronyms? My sister lovingly complained earlier this week that she "had no idea what all of the "x"s mean in Jeff's Facebook updates." SXSW @ NOMX3? What DOES that mean? So I'm here to help you understand these acronyms so you can interpret and appreciate Jeff's life as I do. Have a Jeffronym not yet addressed here? Put it in the comments and we'll try to answer, or feel free to add your own Jeffronym here.

BMM (bee emm emm): BMM stands for Boston Media Makers, which is a monthly gathering of "media makers" (e.g. bloggers, video bloggers, twitters, etc.) for networking and professional horn tooting. They gather over breakfast at Boston's (in)famous Doyle's Cafe.

iRoadtrip (eye road trip): This was a road trip Jeff took with a group of four other social media gurus last year. They drove from Detroit, MI to Austin, TX (see SXSW below) in some sort of fancy Ford provided by, well, Ford Motor Company. Along the way they visited companies, like my beloved Zappos.com, that are doing interesting and innovative things with social media to reach out to their customers. This was a

NOMX3 (Nahm ex 3): Jeff's TV show he co-hosts with @mikelangford. NOMX3= nom x 3 or nom nom nom. Nom is geek speak for yummy. The TV show is like a talk show for guys, and involves eating lunch, thus the yummy yummy yummy or NOMX3.

RT (retweet): This Jeffronym is popping up on Facebook. It is actually Twitter speak for repeating something someone else has said on Twitter. People retweet if they read something particularly witty, smart or compelling. RT is also used for political reasons - to show your support for someone else's great work or to be noticed by someone you admire professionally or personally. While Jeff is an excellent writer he is humble and/or smart enough to pass along cool info he finds on Twitter.

SPJ (ess pee jay): Society of Professional Journalists, the professional organization of journalists. Jeff is the official social media trainer for SPJ, and he is flying all over the US delivering training for news organizations and journalists on the use of tools like Facebook to research stories, find sources, and deliver content.

SXSW (south by southwest): The annual social/new media conference Jeff attends in Austin, TX. It is sometimes called South By.

TTWA (things to worry about): Jeff's blog in which he inspires readers to be afraid of the things he is most afraid of.

WWJCE (double you, double you, jay cee, ee): What Would Jeff Cutler Eat, the picture blog that details on a meal-by-meal or snack-by-snack basis what Jeff has been ingesting. Want to know how many Twinkies one person could possibly eat in a single day? WWJCE can tell you. How much cheese can one man eat between lunch and dinner? WWJCE has the answers.

Zombie Squirrels

2010-02-09T16:54:00.000-08:00

"You know how the squirrels have been taking the top off the bird feeder at home?" This is the question Jeff asks me during our drive-home check-in. "Well, there is one less squirrel in the neighborhood to steal our bird's tasty treats, because I hit a squirrel today while driving to work."

"WHAT!?" I shrieked while sitting in traffic on 93 South, "Did you stop to help it?"

"Well, I would have stopped to check on the squirrel if I hadn't hit it with both wheels AND if the two cars behind me hadn't hit it also."

"You killed another creature today! How can you stand it!?"

"Well, I wasn't happy about it when it happened, but it was only a squirrel."

I continued to moan into the phone, bereft with grief over the loss of the rodent life. "When I'm not overwhelmed with worry about becoming homeless or losing my hair I worry about hitting and killing small animals. I can't even drive over the flattest deadest roadkill without feeling like I'm crushing the animal's soul."

"If you are that concerned," Jeff nonchalantly replied, "why don't you check on the squirrel when you get home. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to see it in the road. And, if it is there can you go home and get the shovel..."

I interrupted. "I'm not going to check for the dead squirrel and I may not even go home tonight. Because I'm pretty sure there is a zombie squirrel waiting on our porch to kill me."

No Cat Disease

2010-02-08T02:26:00.000-08:00

Childless by choice I often find myself having awkward conversations about babies with random strangers. In these conversations I give various explanations as to why Jeff and I choose not to have kids. "We love to travel and know we wouldn't have the money or the flexibility to travel the way we like to if we had kids," and "I give so much to children at work that I know there wouldn't be anything left over for my own children," are two of the more inane excuses. "I know parenting is a lot of work and I just don't have it in me," "We're both pretty selfish and would have a hard time with parenting," and "I've never had that burning desire to be a mom that drives so many women I know" are among the more honest and crass answers to the question, "Oh, you don't have kids? Why not?"

I was shopping for baby clothes for several friends who are in some state of pregnancy or new parenting the other day. A kindly older woman was ringing me out and making idle conversation about the pieces I had purchased. Inevitably she asked me if I had any kids. "No I replied. My partner has a chronic illness and he has decided NOT to take a risk and pass it on to any children." (This is a GREAT excuse to use if I want to abruptly end a conversation.) I continued with the sales clerk, "So we have the joy of visiting with other people's babies, and then going home together to be with our cats."

"Cats?" she said skeptically, "You have cats?" I felt a rush of judgment coming on. The clerk continued, "I've never met anyone who had a chronic illness who could also have a cat."

Dumbfounded I cocked my head at her and mentally began cataloguing all of the chronic diseases I knew of that didn't involve breathing - cerebral palsy, multiple sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis, Huntington's Disease, Addison's Disease, Crohn's Disease, Colitis, any number of heart ailments. The list could go on. Then I looked back at the clerk, politely accepted the bag of gifts I had just purchased and walked out of the store without saying another word.

Accepting our bodies

2010-01-31T13:22:00.001-08:00

One of the great things about living with someone with a chronic illness is that there is no stone throwing when it comes to one's physical imperfections. I don't worry about Jeff eyeing my occasional, and nearly predictable, weight gain with suspicion. And I hope Jeff doesn't worry about any judgments that may briefly pass through my consciousness about the failings of his organs or his weight or the cowlicks on the back of his head.

Let the record show we both carry our own internal diatribes about our bodies - the focus may be our weight, digestion, or wrinkles. Or maybe we worry about heart and lung capacity, muscle strength and grey hair. Our internal complaints certainly seep into our shared life, occasionally poisoning our physical closeness or our ability to create spontaneous fun. And we deal with this when it happens. The good news, however, is that we don't exacerbate the physical anxieties of the other with snarky comments, snide observations, or non-verbal judgments.

This is one of the many reasons this relationship is peaceful and comforting to me.

A fight to end all fights

2010-01-24T07:12:00.000-08:00

Not really, but we did have a hearty discussion last night about many things. You'd think that after going out for 3.5 years we'd know everything about each other. Not so.

But what's the result? Have I been sent packing with the good cat and my one shirt? Hardly.

From time to time a 'discussion' can help people grow a little closer and prove that adult communication isn't just pillow talk, chat over finances or mature discussion over why Scott Brown is better than Martyr Coakley.

No, talk can be loud (some might call it shouting) and irrational and angry. Because when that talk is done, the sorting out of feelings and thoughts gives you better insight into who you're with.

I think we both emerged from last night's discussion in better shape. And still in love.

"You are your father's son,"

2009-11-18T18:34:00.000-08:00

is what I told Brisket the kitten today. Many people may know that Jeff has some pack rat tendencies. And so does our kitten Brisket. How do I know? Read on.

I was in the chilly bedroom I share with Jeff, changing into my pjs before Top Chef started, when I noticed a dried oak leaf on the bed. This was clearly a plaything abandoned by one of the kittens following a supervised romp out of doors. Ever the efficient cat mom I picked up the leaf, walked around the bed to the wastebasket, and dropped the leaf in.

Alerted by the sound of his crinkling leaf, hoping perhaps that someone might want to play, Brisket darted into the bedroom and hopped onto the platform bed. And he immediately noticed that the leaf, which he apparently was storing on the brightly colored coverlet, was missing. He looked at me quizzically. "I'm sorry honey, but leaves don't live on beds," I told him as I turned my back to finish changing into the sleeping outfit.

Then I heard a crinkling sound and the distinctive sound of the tiny plastic barrel being tipped. I turned toward the sound and saw Brisket with his head in the garbage can, rummaging about. He grabbed the leaf and put it in a new storage place, on the floor in front of Jeff's bureau. Satisfied that he had saved the leaf cum toy from certain death in a landfill, he walked past me and out of the room.

Vacation: Days 1-5

2009-09-23T12:47:00.000-07:00

Day One
Leave Boston at 6:40 PM on 9/19, arrive at Charles DeGaulle Airport in Paris at 8:00ish on 9/20. Drive to Reims (in Champagne). See a cathedral, eat petite dejeuner (that's breakfast to the rest of us), and realize we both don't like champagne all that much and we move on. Drive, drive and drive through vineyards and industrial farm country. Not so much in Champagne. (Expensive gas, - $1.30 euro a liter - which is the equivalent of $7.70 a gallon in the U.S.) Gretchen sleeps. We must have enjoyed lunch, but no recollection of ANYTHING on vacation day one. Arrive in Strasbourg without a map or a hotel. Nice work. Wandering. Lost. Hungry. Overstimulated by the beauty. With the help of a very nice woman in an overbooked hotel we find a great room at Au Cerf de Or (The Stag of Gold). Eat sausage and gherkins and drink beer for dinner. At an "Irish" pub. Really. Learn that the Wifi at the hotel is iffy at best. Good enough to call our moms and tell them we made it.

Day Two
Sleep late. Too late for petite dejeuner (oh coffee, where are you?) and we wander into Petite France for Tyrolean beauty. Follow the natives to the ONE bakery open on a Sunday for sandwiches with pickles and eggs and salami, which we eat in Kleber Place (or Square). Take walking tour of Strasbourg that includes a church that is half Catholic and half Protestant. Tour also includes navigational arguments. Becoming one of our specialties. See a cathedral with an astronomical clock, visit an archeological and a home arts museum (FREE!), write postcards, drink some beer, eat eis (German) or glace (French) or ice cream (English). Eat dinner at a tourist joint in Gutenberg Place where Jeff discovers the joy of tarte flambee, which is a pizza with cream sauce, meunster cheese and bits of ham.

Day Three:
Wake up early to get outta Dodge, petite dejeuner is croissant and juice for Jeff, pain a beurre (bread with butter and jam) for Gretchen. And of course, coffee. Drive 60 minutes to a fully restored medieval castle in a beautiful quiet village. Castle is SPECTACULAR fun and inspiring; we think about visiting Montagne Singes (Monkey Mountain) just down the hill from the castle, and decide it probably isn't authentic so we continue on to Colmar (France) for lunch in the "picturesque" village which is also overrun with tourists and not all that and a bag of chips. Eat another tart flambee (Jeff) and enjoy a slice of the local specialty, quiche Lorraine (Gretchen). Flit through the Monoprix, eat candy, drink beer. Drive some more into Germany, and settle in the dorm-like BluHotel in Freiburg for the night. Jeff is GROUCHY because the free wifi (pronounced 'wee-fee') at the BluHotel is utterly useless. Drive into Freiburg center where there is a lot of shopping, tons of kids and some history which might have been interesting if we had known what we were seeing. Drink MORE beer, eat soup (Gretchen) and a sandwich (Jeff) at a student bar. Then, off to Burger King for free internet (gotta get our fix, and a room for the next night). Oh yeah, a double cheeseburger, fries and a Coke.

Day Four:
Wake up in time for our 8:30 breakfast appointment at BluHotel. TERRIBLE coffee, cold cuts and vending machine croissants. Cranky for kaffee (Gretchen) and sausage (Jeff). Drive into the Black Forest. Photograph vineyards and apple orchards, cows. Visit Burge Rollend, an unrestored medieval fortress on a small mountain which is AWESOME to see, especially after having seen a restored medieval castle the day before. Pay 1.5 euro for what we think is admission to the castle, only to learn it is admission to the museum, which is no bigger than our tiny bungalow, all in German and useless to us. Stop on Bad Sackingen (one of the many spa towns in the region with natural hot springs) and walk to Switzerland over a 400 year-old foot bridge and eat lunch (Bratwurst for Gretchen, and Bratwurst and a cheeseburger for Jeff). Landscape is beautiful. Continue driving to Lake Bodensee and the city of Konstanz. Sad because we can't enjoy Konstanz because we are HOPELESSLY lost and screaming at each other. (Jeff: "Which way do I go here?!" Gretchen: "I don't know! The sign says 'Meersburg or Schweiz.' I KNOW we don't want to go to Meersburg and I CAN'T FIND SCHWEIZ on the map! Where the heck is SCHWEIZ?!!???") A kindly woman explains using only hand gestures that Schweiz means the COUNTRY of Switzerland and we have to drive through it to get to our next destination. Which, we learn, is actually in Austria. That's three countries in one day, ka-ching. After a slow slog through Switzerland (Jeff was righteously afraid of a speeding ticket), we arrive in Bergenz, Austria and are directed to our hotel by a group of schoolboys who escort us part way on their bikes. When the boys leave us to continue without them we get lost again. A policeman gives us directions. And we get lost again. Finally a Croatian man who has been in Bergenz three hours more than we have been walks us to our hotel. Gretchen cries. Jeff has a beer. And then Jeff cries because WiFi sucks here too. Have...beer and a sandwich at Cafe Wunderbar around the corner. Sit outside wrapped in the fleece throws they offer to motivate their guests to sit outside. Cozy.

Day Five:
Hotel Central in Bergenz is great. Breakfast is weird. Again, cold cuts, and cold bread with our choice of processed cheese, pate', or jam/nutella spreads. And yogurt and canned fruit. WTF. Kaffee is great. Directed to a laundromat which turned out to be a dry cleaner. Barely speak German, don't speak a word of Austrian, and Gretchen's confused brain - five countries in four days - is lapsing into Spanish with some Italian thrown in. Motor out of town back into Germany and on to the little town of Fussen to visit Neuschwanstein Castle, one of four castles commissioned by King Ludwig II of the Bavaria during his 23 year reign. Castles bankrupted the country and are now bankrupting tourists with their commercialization. Nevertheless the castle and its neighboring Hochenschwangau Castle are breathtaking and we have a hearty walk up the mountain to the courtyard chute where we wait for our turn to go inside. Lunch at a deli and then another beer while we plot our next move to the town of St. Heinrich (population 170 - really) where we stay at the wonderful lakeside Landgasthof Schontag (Hotel Nice Day) and drink more beer and eat at the Lone Star Steakhouse and Saloon. (The hotel owners lived in Houston for five years and wanted to bring Texas and country music to Germany. Gretchen Kinder, Jeff's traveling companion of German ethnicity originally from Texas is tickled pink.) Church bells go off every 15 minutes, pealing through the open skylight in the bathroom.

Tomorrow we head to Munich to start the Oktoberfest leg of the trip. So far we've learned:
The "fly by the seat of your pants" vacation doesn't work for us so much.
The "visit pretty towns in Europe and go shopping in stores you have in America" also doesn't work for us so much.
People can be really nice if you are nice first.
Gretchen can't eat as much crappy food as she would like.
Jeff's tolerance for copious amounts of alcohol isn't as high as he would like.
Internet hotel reviews are hit or miss.
The Alps are gorgeous and we are both glad we didn't have to scale them on foot to flee the Nazis.
If we had even 1% of all the money in America we wouldn't be able to spend it, not even on our dream castle.
Spaetzl IS a noodle. Schnitzel IS NOT a noodle.

A conversation

2009-08-02T17:01:00.000-07:00

The set up: Jeff loves to buy domain names. It is one of his get rich schemes - someday someone will want to buy one of his domain names and be willing to pay $10 million for it. One of the domain names he bought two years ago is www.gretchencutler.com.

The name is now up for renewal. He either pays $8/year to keep the domain name, or it goes back into the pool to be potentially snatched up by someone else.

Jeff: "What do you want me to do with that domain name?"

Gretchen: "I don't know. I mean, if we were to get married in like TWENTY or THIRTY years I don't know if I'd take your last name."

Jeff, with great sincerity: "Yeah, I know."

Gretchen: "When I get all moony about wanting to get married to you I think that maybe I would take your last name. And I've never wanted to take someone's last name. And then I think, 'But I'm Gretchen Kinder. I've been Gretchen Kinder for 39 years'."

Jeff: "You are 39?"

Gretchen: "Hey, look at all of these cuts on my arm!" (She raises her arm to reveal a series of small scratches on the underside of her forearm.)

Jeff: "How did you get those?"

Gretchen: "From carrying too many grocery bags on my arm."

Jeff: "Maybe we should name you Gretchen Clutzo instead of Gretchen Cutler!"

Gretchen: "And maybe we should call YOU Jeff Clutter instead of Jeff Cutler."

Jeff: "Well played, well played."

Cats and discipline

2009-07-20T03:19:00.001-07:00

I'm a softy when it comes to discipline...until I'm pushed to the edge.

While I'm not there yet, the cats could be sending me into a life of insomnia because I'm often worrying that they'll pluck out my eyes while I sleep.

Have you any advice for a concerned cat parent? Mostly I need to know so I don't hurl the cats across the little house.

Thanks.

Cat Crap and Other Delights of Feline Parenting

2009-06-26T17:01:00.000-07:00

Have you ever stepped in cat poo on the way to the shower in the morning? Me neither. But it would be bad.

That doesn't mean it's not going to happen soon, because with two new kittens in the house there's an endless supply of kitten detritus at cat level all over our abode.

Here's a list...

Three crumpled receipts rescued by cats from various waste baskets

Two stuffed squeaky bones - a purple and a yellow

One plastic cage ball with bell inside

One tennis ball with a loose rubber bead inside

One hippo - stuffed

One plastic milk jug cap

One compass with long lanyard

One wicker garbage can - probably a former receipt repository

Two purple socks

One orange earplug

One yellow iPod sock

Four men's shoes

One squishy - stress-ball - turkey

One blue cup

What's on the floor around your house? Do you have kids or cats...and which are worse?

One way men and women are different

2009-06-21T12:06:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a short business trip. Stepping into the house and becoming readjusted to my surroundings after three and a half days in Marriott splendor on Tampa Bay, I noticed that the dirty dishes in the sink looked suspiciously like the dirty dishes that were in the sink the morning I left town.

I said to Jeff,"I can't believe you let those dishes stay in the sink so long!"

"Huh?" he said, peering into the sink.

"That same pot has been 'soaking' for more than four days!" I exclaimed.

"Four days?! That's not a long time for dirty dishes to be in the sink."

"How long do YOU think is too long for dishes to be in the sink?" was my retort.

"An entire freshman year. THAT is too long," was Jeff's satisfied answer.

Kittens Inspired by Kittens!

2009-06-01T15:09:00.000-07:00

Jeff and I now have kittens. Two beautiful, active, and affectionate kittens. Adopted from litters had by two of my niece cats in Syracuse, the kittens are named Ducky and Brisket. A month into our feline parenting adventure these are some of the lessons I've learned about myself (and Jeff) in the role of nurturer:

1. I wish we had waited until we got the kittens to name them. Not that Ducky and Brisket aren't fantastic names - they are. But, I would have named Brisket "Mr. Softee" and in the beginning Jeff was aching to call Ducky "Crumpet." Kittens, I imagine like children, may in fact be born with a name that the parents have to uncover over time.

2. I am, like Brisket, a softy. Jeff is much firmer about following rules than I am. I imagine this is because I am a parent who works outside of the home. I often say goodbye to the kittens at 5:45 in the morning, only to come home dog tired by 7:00 at night. I want them to know they are important to me but don't always want to sit for hours at a time with them in my lap. So I give them treats instead and quietly - rather than loudly - admonish them when they position themselves to jump onto the dining room table.

3. I am a terrible relaxer. See point above re: not relaxing with the kittens on my lap. I AM finding myself more able to enjoy their antics and to laugh out loud during kitty smack down episodes that involve Brisket leaping off the back of the futon onto Ducky with extraordinary kitty gusto.

4. Jeff and I would be good parents to little people, if we chose to be parents to little people. We negotiated the rules and standards for the cats ahead of time, have stopped to renegotiate or gently redirect the other in times of weakness or in the face of new information, and have been diligent about spreading our attention between the cats and each other. We talk earnestly about their bathroom habits, their play routines, their sleeping patterns and their kitty litter as any new parent would discuss toileting, social and physical development, and diapers. I feel proud of our kitty parenting and believe we will have calmer, better adjusted, and sweeter kitties because of it.

5. We are excellent at cooperating on cat care. We made a list of questions for the vet before our first visit so we were both prepared and could hear the other's fears so there were no surprises with Dr. Stevenson. We took turns soothing the kittens after their blood was drawn and shots were given. One of our kittens has apparent GI problems and we both did our part to handle the follow-up work assigned by the vet. (Jeff's gag reflex, I'm happy to report, is not nearly as strong as mine. Which is good, because SOMEONE had to lift the watery stool out of the box and put it in the clean sour cream container to take the vet for testing.)

6. I actually don't mind the drudge work. I'm in charge of changing the kitty box. DAILY. Which one might imagine would be a drag. But I have so few daily routines that this actually creates an anchor for me in the morning - a time to check in with the kittens (who assiduously monitor the litter scooping to make sure I'm doing it right) and their health. Jeff and I also share some of the kitty care tasks - like feeding them, changing their water, keeping windowsills clear and picking up their toys. I wasn't expecting this division of labor and feel proud of our shared investment in the work of kitten parenting.

7. While we both have worriers inside of us, neither Jeff nor I are helicopter parents. Our side on the "indoor vs- outdoor" debate is not in question. We are clear that our cats will be outdoor cats when they have had all of the requisite vaccinations and are properly spayed (Ducky) and neutered (Brisket). Googling the phrase "outdoor cat" results in a bombardment of messaging about how terrible it is to let your cat outside - they will live a shorter, more stressed out life if you let your cats go outside. You are a terrible cat parent and an animal hater if you let your cats go outside. While the former may be true (and the latter just judgmental BS), Jeff and I agree that a shorter but HAPPIER life for the kittens is more important than a long and neurotic life. For them and us.

8. It is interesting how easily we have fallen into the parent nomenclature. Jeff refers to me as "mom" when he is talking to the cats. Conversely Jeff is "dad" when I speak about him to the kitties. I call Brisket my "son" and Ducky is my "daughter." I don't actually want to parent a human child, but apparently am comfortable with being called mom. Or maybe I'm only comfortable calling myself mom when talking to my cats.

Check back here regularly for updates, pictures and videos. We'll tally the amount of money spent on the cats (more than $475 so far between vet bills, litter, and other start up costs), and share more stories from our little parenting adventure. We're proud parents and can't wait to share our "kids" with you.

Sofa Bed Night

2009-05-24T06:13:00.000-07:00

One of the rituals of our tiny tiny family is Sofa Bed Night.* At least once every two weeks - usually on a weekend - we haul all of our bedding into the living room, pull out the sofa bed, and crash for the night in the living room. Falling asleep to the flicker of the television is comforting to me. And Jeff and I often switch "sides" on sofa bed night, so the bed time snuggling is different.

Sofa Bed Night is often inspired by an unfinished project in the bedroom - 10 loads of unfolded laundry piled on the bed, changed sheets that haven't quite made it to fully made bed stage. We had Sofa Bed Night last night because we're in the middle of fixing the underbed drawers and clothing is everywhere.

I love Sofa Bed Night.

What I don't love is Sofa Bed Night the morning after. My body is always a little tight and ouchy because our double stuffed futon mattress just doesn't compare to the Bob-O-Pedic. The living room is littered with bedding and other night time detritus. I can't use the couch as a couch which only exacerbates the ouchy tightness. And, the mess in the bedroom is still a mess in the bedroom.

*Sofa Bed Night is a ritual we learned from my younger sister, ELR and her family. Not only have Jeff and I adopted it as one of our rituals, but my older sister HTP and HER family have also adopted it as a special treat. Feel free to adopt Sofa Bed Night for your family too!

The Bickersons

2009-05-23T20:12:00.000-07:00

"How are you?"
"We've been the Bickersons lately."
"The Bickersons?"
"Yeah, we can't stop fighting."

WHY haven't the dishes been put away yet?
You SAID you were going to make the bed today? Why isn't it made?
I'm upset about being hiccuppy still and its making me cranky.
Why don't you validate MY solution to the problem of the broken (insert broken thing here)?
I am BUSY chatting with these strangers online. You need to STOP TALKING until I am done.
The kittens love you better. Why don't they hang out with me?
SOMEONE has moved my cheese. WHO moved my cheese?

This is an representative sample of the fights that have started between us - TODAY alone. We have been bickering like crazy.

What are the dumbest things you fight about?

Here kitty kitty kitty!

2009-03-20T17:19:00.000-07:00

I was so paralyzed with the responsibility of naming my first cat that the poor orange tiger ended up being called "Blankety Blank" by my entire family. That was his name because they got so sick of waiting for me to make a decision. I did better with the next one - a white bruiser that I called Coconut.

Jeff and I are getting a cat in just a couple of weeks. A soft gray kitten with a white blaze in the middle of his (her?) forehead. (This is not a picture of our cat, but a representative picture of a cat,)

And we're squabbling over what to name the cat. Firmly set in our respective positions we're now turning to you - our friends, family and followers - to give your input into our cat's name. Visit our online cat name survey and register your opinion. One question - this should take 15 seconds. Seriously.

We'll post the final decision before we pick "Whats His Name" up from the pet store aka my brother's house in beautiful Syracuse, NY.

No dogs allowed....

2009-03-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

After an inspiring conversation with my hair stylist this weekend Jeff and I had a serious conversation about the possibility of our getting a dog to keep us company in the tiny bungalow. Centered around weighing pros versus cons, it went a little like this:

Pros:
We have romantic notions of what life with a dog would be like - catching frisbees, rubbing bellies, chasing intruders, etc.
Most of our neighbors have dogs and we could be one of the "cool" kids.
I want an incentive and excuse to motivate herself for daily walks.

Cons:
We'd want s young dog, and would need to invest time in training the dog. And we don't want someone else to train the dog because we want the dog to respond to our commands, rather than a trainer's.
We don't like the idea of cleaning up steaming hot piles of poop. Or cleaning up dried up piles of poop littering the yard.
My job takes me away from home for up to 15 hours/day. And Jeff doesn't like HAVING to do things, like walking the dog because I can't get home. (I would feel the same way if the tables were turned.)
We aren't sure who we could ask to watch the dog when we spontaneously take off for unknown locales when the spirit moves us. Or we'd feel bad repeatedly asking Margo and/or Cindy and/or Aaron/Katie and/or Ben to watch the dog when we wanted to pick up and go.
I WANT an external incentive to walk because internal motivation isn't working. BUT I am not excited about walking a dog in the rain. Or the snow. Or early in the morning when I am overtired.

After our longish conversation we realized that we both like cats. Having cats could fulfill many of our romantic fantasies without many of the downsides we're aware present themselves with dogs. Or kids. So, no dogs. And we're going to get at least one - maybe two - cats. Why two? Well, I want a smoky gray cat and Jeff wants a light colored cat. No compromises. That's how we roll. Look forward to cute kitten pictures sometime in the future.

(Oh, and I need to find a less pet co-dependent way to motivate herself to get exercise.)

The Closer

2009-03-02T18:53:00.000-08:00

The inadequacy of my closings is one of the banes of Jeff's existence. The laundry detergent bottle, the "table syrup", Cholula, peanut butter. He chides me about it nearly constantly. Jeff is afraid that bugs will crawl into the food containers and contaminate it. Or maybe the bugs will steal our laundry detergent. I think he is afraid that he will pick the laundry detergent or the peanut butter by the cap (a no-no in the house in which I was raised) and the entire vessel will crash to the floor. This is something he worries about.

It just makes me laugh.

I'm a bad girlfriend.

Dream home

2009-02-21T06:02:00.000-08:00

Jeff and I built our dream home while waking up this morning. It would include:
1. An exercise room with a bow flex or solo flex and a cedarwood sauna
2. A library with leather club chairs and one of those "ladder things"
3. A movie theatre with 24 seats and a popcorn maker
4. A heated garage
5. A heated driveway - NOT a snowblower - with a heated grate at the bottom for run off and to somehow avoid giant mounds of snow at the bottom made by municipal plows
6. A scooter room
7. A dumwbwaiter to bring our sports gear up from the basement when we want it.
8. A walk-in closet for me
9. One spare bedroom
10. A giant screened in porch.
11. A hot tub on the giant screened in porch
12. A small greenhouse so I can start those giant pumpkins I'm growing indoors
13. A really big kitchen with a really big table in the middle of the kitchen
14. Two bathrooms, one for Jeff and one for me. Mine would have a jacuzzi tub and a separate shower

Things we DON'T want in our dream home include
1. Formal living room.
2. Pool table
3. Dart room.

If we win the lottery today (which is apparently on the horizon) look to here to see where we are building our mansion.

If we were married....

2009-02-18T18:08:00.001-08:00

It is 9:09 PM. Jeff just asked me "If we were married would you make me an omelette right now?"

I simply stared. Incredulously. And then I laughed.

An inventory of our counter

2009-02-15T11:31:00.000-08:00

Is it any wonder Jeff is so satisfied, and my belly issues are acting up? Consider this inventory of food items on our counter:
1. Assorted 1/2 bagels
2. Girl Scout cookies (2)
3. Blueberry coffee cake
4. Shortbread fingers
5. Seaweed
6. 1/4 a bottle of wine
7. 1/2 loaf of white bread
8. 4 white bread hamburger rolls
9. 3 bananas
10. 1/2 bag of pretzels
11. Mostly empty box of Godiva chocolates
12. Mostly full box of LA Burdick's chocolate.

Squirt

2009-02-14T19:48:00.000-08:00

A piece of asparagus accidentally squirted out of my mouth tonight while Jeff and I were at fancy Valentine's Day dinner. We were at one of the most reputable sushi places in Boston and I was eating a beef/shrimp roll stuffed with asparagus and scallion smothered in teriyaki sauce. The 3/4" piece of asparagus slid between the shrimp and scallion inside the beef roll, arced out of my mouth and landed on the table in the middle of Jeff and me.

And then I almost died laughing. Really she said.

Wedding talk

2009-02-05T06:32:00.000-08:00

It has begun. Just past the 2.5 year mark in the relationship and the discussions have begun.

Oh, not between us, between and among the rest of the universe.

That's right. Now neither of us can visit the hair dresser, the post office, the local bar, the strip joint, the gas station or even the coffee shop without some slightly random person walking up to us and saying, "hey, you two should really get married."

We understand that everyone loves a party. We also understand that this is our decision and with the need for a party being so strong in people, we urge them to go get married again or just have a party.

If/When we decide to get all official, our loved ones will be the first to know.

(This is likely the first in a long series of "get off our backs" posts on the topic of marriage.)

The house is mine, bwah hah hah hah!

2009-01-07T02:21:00.000-08:00

Jeff is out of town for a handful of days. Here are some of the mundane things I've been doing while I have the house to myself:
1. Fall asleep on the couch EVERY night as a pre-sleep appetizer
2. Make the bed before I go to bed at night so it is crumple free
2a. Tuck the blankets under the mattress on BOTH sides of the bed (Jeff doesn't like to be confined by tucked in sheets and blankets)
3. Keep the kitchen counter clear of clutter
4. Turn bedroom lights on as I get dressed in the wee hours of the morning (I normally get dressed by flashlight - seriously)
5. Cook food infused with spicy spices
6. Burn candles for soft, atmospheric light
7. Sleep with the bedroom door shut.
Hmm. That may be it. I've been enjoying this feeling of tremendous freedom, but in fact it hasn't translated into many changes in my day-to-day habits. It is merely a delicious sensation of expansiveness. I'm going to propose that that this is a sign of the health of our life together that there isn't much I feel constrained by in our day-to-day life,and there isn't much I want to do that can only be expressed when he is not around.

Our driveway isn't ours - or so you'd think.

2008-12-24T11:38:00.001-08:00

CF and I have about had it with neighbors who allow their dogs to go the bathroom on our driveway. It's bad enough that people allow their pets to crap on lawns and on trails in the woods (hiking trails mind you!), but letting your dog dump one right on a driveway has got to be the most evil act ever.

What's the deal?

If you get a dog, you've signed on to look after and love that animal...FOR LIFE. That entails picking up after the animal, keeping it leashed (if that's the law) and training your pet so it doesn't terrorize humans.

Unfortunately, the same idiots who are having children and then letting them run rampant are the same geniuses who are buying dogs and then neglecting them after the novelty wears off. My newest cause is a waiting period for pet buyers - just like they have for gun purchasers.

Yes, we have an overpopulation problem in the kennels and pounds, but that doesn't mean we should be letting people with the IQ of a walnut acquire a living, feeling being that needs to be trained.

One of the discussions around the house has involved the moving of the automatic light sensor so it goes off whenever anything comes into the boundaries of the property. We've also discussed putting up signs.

Lastly, we talked about taking shifts sitting on the porch with the pellet gun.

To be clear, our driveway isn't paved and is often unused as we like to park on the street. But with the recent snowstorms we've moved into the parking pad. So, what makes a person walking their dog decide that it's a good idea to let their mutt crap in the same location as two automobiles?

Today it's rainy and 50 degrees, so the feces is starting to deteriorate and would adhere nicely to the bottom of my sneakers if I'm not careful. How about letting Fido crap near the telephone pole where nobody walks? Or better yet, bring a bag with you and pick it up!

I'm not sure what to do short of putting electrified fencing around the property line. Maybe I'll set up some motion cameras so I can track the animals that are crapping on the driveway and lawn and then email the photos to the newspaper. Now that's pretty good - I'm already leaning that way.

That way, it'll serve two purposes. It will alert the dog owners that we're not pleased having their animal's excrement on our driveway. And it will figuratively rub their noses in their dog's crap - while the rest of the town gets to watch.

What do you suggest we do?

Getting ready for the Holidays

2008-12-21T14:48:00.001-08:00

Just had the party at my mother's and now decompressing with some Nog and some gift wrapping. And we did some gift unwrapping. As we sipped our 'Made in Somerville' 'nog drinks we each unwrapped one gift in honor of the start of Hanukkah. A pair of fleece lounge pants for Jeff and garden seeds for GK.

Lazy weekends where you can't go out and do stuff are far superior to those where you feel obligated to rush around like a maniac.

Gift Wrapping

2008-12-15T16:54:00.000-08:00

I'm busy doing a lot of wrapping tonight while CF sits on the couch watching NCIS.

It's relaxing. Like the yoga of consumerism.

Ahhhh.

Saturday list

2008-12-13T10:07:00.000-08:00

Make list
Make breakfast
Eat breakfast
Finish laundry
Run dishwasher
Put away clean clothes
Frost cookies
Finish card for Robbie
Make cookie bags for people at work
Dump run - computer, sweaters, books and tables
Wrap secret santa presents (GK)
Pull in mail at neighbor's house
Clean bathroom
Make bed
Play
Wrap hostess gift for dinner party
Go to dinner party

Home-age

2008-12-13T10:02:00.000-08:00

How am I supposed to feel when I discover that Jeff has told his Tweeple that the work I did today is actually work HE did today? Dump run - I did it. Cookies to the dump people - that was me. Secret Santa gift wrapping - yup me. Prepare omelets - me again. Clean up after the delicious omelets - Jeff did that (NOT!). Hmmmm. I guess I could take it as a form of appreciation directed not at me, but towards the outside world - a form of homage. Yes! That's what it is. A homage to me. Perfect.

Jeff likes eggs and other things you might have missed.

2008-12-08T18:08:00.000-08:00

Gretchen is making me do this. Don't ask me why the list has to have 16 things. Just bear with me. Here they are...16 things about me. Most of which will probably be lies just to get a reaction from readers. But some will be true.

16. My license says that I'm six-feet tall. OK. It doesn't say that anymore because I had pangs of conscience and changed it. But at one time I was officially six-feet tall. You see, while standing at the counter at the Registry of Motor Vehicles I overheard the enormous guy next to me say he was five-feet-ten-inches tall. I knew that I was actually 5'10" and I was easily half a foot shorter than him. So I decided - as I'm wont to do - to test the intelligence of the Registry folks. REGISTRY INTELLIGENCE FAIL. When I said I was six-feet, the woman didn't blink. She typed it in and I immediately got taller. Better than Bobby Brady, huh?

15. I believe that someday I'll be called to Hollywood to star in a movie. Don't know how. Don't know why. Just know it.

14. In a guise developed to snag chicks, I had business cards made up that had on them my name, the words The Corporation, and my dorm-room phone number. These were purchased during the Citibank Years - a time when I used plastic to buy everything from sneakers to snacks. They were also used a grand total of once. The cards worked miracles and my roommate and I ended up walking home from a local bar with two hotties. I don't know what he ended up doing, but again the conscience thing got in the way and I told her goodnight.

13. I'm paranoid that I might be autistic and have ADD...and that I'll be misdiagnosed as being just a normal teenager. Please shuffle these parts as you see fit. They work every which way.

12. My feet have gotten larger as I've gotten older. This might not be surprising, but they're supposed to slow down. In the last ten years I've gained a whole size. That's either the real deal OR shoe manufacturers have changed their sizing methods.

11. I cry during West Wing and Scrubs and even during some other television entertainment.

10. Remembering how long I should cook soft-boiled eggs still escapes me. Luckily I don't mind snacking on hard-boiled eggs and the incidence of raw eggs has dropped with practice.

9. Moving to a warmer climate is definitely in my thoughts when it remains 12 degrees out - like it is right now!

8. I once had my finger bitten off by a turtle. It grew back.

7. Wherever I travel, I adopt the local accent. It makes me feel closer to the natives. It's especially difficult in South Boston, Scotland and Jersey.

6. I get really annoyed at shows like CSI and NCIS that are based on real science but really rush results. Conversely, I allow Numb3rs to fly fast and loose with math and science. My prerogative, I guess.

5. My proudest moment was when I saved a Right Whale from swimming into the Cape Cod Canal.

4. My main goals for 2009 are to ride a century and to find an agent for my novel.

3. I'm a little worried that I'm losing my hearing.

2. I'm convinced that I'll either win the lottery or not win it. That way there's no disappointment.

1. I know that I'll push for a MUCH shorter list the next time we get Facebooked into doing something like this.

16 thing thing - Gretchen's perspective

2008-12-08T18:00:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Sarah Gibb Millsaugh and Facebook for sharing this list exercise.

Make a list of 16 random yet poignant things about yourself (non-work related). And share them here.

1. I'm smack dab in the middle of five kids raised (nearly) solo by an extraordinarily strong mom.

2. Aforementioned strong mom now takes in immigrant refugee foster kids and I have had"brothers" from Sudan, China, Afghanistan, and other African, Asian and Central American nations. I think about cultural competency and immigrant rights a lot - from a personal perspective.

3. I worked very hard to earn two graduate degrees - one in social work and one in public health.

4. I'm toying with the idea of getting a PhD. I have a dissertation idea. But am not sure I want to do the coursework.

5. I lived for 2.5 years in an urban commune, which influenced my personal philosophy of recycling and living simply.

6. Very few things make me laugh out loud. A challenge for you comedians out there perhaps?

7. I have no relationship with my biological dad. Or my (former) step-father.

8. Two of my four siblings are either gay or in same sex relationships. I think about gay rights a lot - from a personal perspective.

9. I have very fond memories of playing the character Jacob Marley in my fourth grade performance of "A Christmas Carol." It was taped for and rebroadcast on local cable access television that year.

10. I wish I had received sufficient high school training in the sciences to prepare me to succeed in medical school.

11. I regret not having joined the Peace Corps when given the opportunity.

12. I regret not having attended state college for my undergraduate degree.

13. I'm not Jewish and I find the observation of Yom Kippur to be deeply moving. And I am sometimes embarassed to attend services because I assume I stand out like a sore thumb.

14. I choose not to have children of my own partly because I'm deeply afraid of being a bad parent.

15. The movie "The Color Purple" makes me weep uncontrollably. Really, just the last twenty minutes of the movie "The Color Purple." Or hearing the song playing during the last twenty minutes of the movie "The Color Purple."

16. I miss my grandmother, who died in November 2002.

Yay cleaning lady!

2008-12-04T19:37:00.001-08:00

I work between 9-10 hours a day and commute an additional two hours a day. I leave for work at around 6:30 AM and am usually home after dark. This leaves me exhausted during the week and wanting to use my weekends to recharge and play.

Jeff works from home, but isn't invested in having a tidy home.

As a result, the dust piles up, recycling overflows, and dishes get a little crusty. And I get cranky about "having" to do the cleaning on MY weekends.

We've talked about getting a cleaning service to help - at LEAST once a month. And tonight, as I left the bathroom following the ritual evening tooth brushing feeling like I SHOULD take a few minutes to clean the porcelain but not wanting to to take a few minutes to commune with Comet cleanser, I said to Jeff, "Honey, you know what I want?" "Is it time to call the lady about helping with the cleaning?" "Yes, that's EXACTLY what I want," I said with sighing enthusiasm. "I'll call her," Jeff said.

So, maybe by the first of the year we'll have someone who comes in to help us out. I mean, help me out. Yay cleaning lady!

Pillowtalk

2008-11-30T20:34:00.000-08:00

Gretchen: "I'm afraid I have some flesh eating bacteria on my face."
Jeff: "I can't be with you if something eats your face. I implore you to get that checked out."

Fa la la la la!

2008-11-30T17:54:00.000-08:00

It has been Nag City here at the bungalow, with cabin fever coming before winter has even officially begun. It feels like we're fighting about everything - the ugliness of the new recycling bin in the living room, the shape of the meatballs rolled up on the baking tray, the volume of the television, the sound of the pages flipping as we turn pages in our respective books in bed.

Today it felt like we had a break in the sniping when we designed our Christmas photo card. I LOVE sending and receiving Christmas cards and they are important to me.

"Do you want to send a photo Christmas card?" I asked, after addressing approximately 30 cards to people who I maintain acquaintances with, but who are not known by Jeff.

"Yes" he replied definitively. ("Hooray!" I cheered on the inside, no guessing on what he *REALLY* means.)

"How many people do you want to send them to? I have about 15 people who I would send photo cards to." I replied.

"Hmmm. Maybe nine," says Jeff. ("Hooray!" again I cheered, another definite in the making.)

Within two hours we had set up and taken the photo, and I had begun the process of choosing the photo card template online. It felt like a peaceful and fun collaboration. We both wanted something silly and clever, and we didn't want to spend a lot of money. After I spent about 2 hours poking around on tens of websites, playing with different templates and captions, I turned to Jeff for help.

"Honey. I really need your help here. I can't think of something clever to say." ("Hooray!" I imagine Jeff thinking. "Gretchen is asking for help!")

"Okay, tell me what you got."

And from there we started working on the card together, scrapping our favorite template in favor of a simpler one that called for a less clever play on words. And, by 9:00 PM they were finished. They will be here in about a week. And the 25 or so of you - plus 15 bonus friends - who are on our shared "hot list" will get a beautiful and silly card from me and Jeff. Happy holidays!