Violet

April 27th was a very, very exciting day for our household. Peter and I love our new little home in the woods, and now with all this space we realized... We needed a dog. We desperately wanted a dog, to run around the yard or go on walks or play at the park with. So we began looking. At first, we were looking for older pups that might have had a little training behind them. I fell in love with a German Shepherd mix named Atlas but he was off to another forever home.

It's funny how timing works out, because the moment I heard Atlas was gone, I heard back from another dog I had emailed a foster about. Her name was Violet. She was a pale little Australian Shepherd, and she was blind and deaf (a double merle). I texted Peter right away, explaining I know it's a hard pitch, and I realize we were looking for a dog that was older (not puppy puppy) and trained, but... What about a little puppy who cannot see or hear?

He texted me back a few minutes later saying: "I love you dearly. Let's go see Violet."

The rest is history. We met her in a park in Baltimore on a surprisingly cold day in April, said we'd love to have her in our home for a trial, and a week later she came to stay with us. It took maybe a day (really, a few hours) for us to realize we couldn't let her go. This wasn't a trial anymore -- we loved her, and we needed her.

She's now about four and a half months, and has been with us almost three weeks. I can't imagine life without her. She's sweet, she loves naps and biting fingers, and her favorite thing is to zoom around in our yard on her leash. She's so smart, and gives gentle little kisses. My phone is now so full of photos of this little peanut, and she has an Instagram so I can document her whole adventure with us.

Peter works so well with her, and since he works around our home now, she's getting full Dad days of outdoor play and baths. It is the most amazing thing to come home to. They are, simply, my entire world. I've never been so happy.

Photos by Sarah Sykora

Joshua tree house, day 2

Somehow, day two of our weekend in the tree house was able to top the first night. Another day where the weather was beautiful and our temporary little home in the woods was exactly what we were hoping for, and more: it was bright and cheery, and the river was alive right outside the front door. We were living up in the trees, where the sun reflected rippled patterns from the water on the ceiling next to the skylight above our bed, and we could watch the moon from a warm outdoor bath filled with bubbles as the night slid carefully behind a sunset that used every shade the sky can hold. (Honestly, check out the last few pictures.) The weekend was, simply put, everything.

When we woke up, we took advantage of the awesome outdoor hot tub to warm up for the day. I ate cake as Peter drank his tea and read, and the sun started to shift solidly to morning between the branches. Later in the day, we went kayaking and broke through the bit of ice that had gathered farther down the river along the banks, and then we found a long cable swing that went out over the water. That was a lot of fun -- when you got high up enough, you'd swing so far over the river that you could see all the way down until it bent away in either direction. And then, because it was now our new favorite way to start and end the day, at sunset we got back into the hot tub (after Peter decided to take a quick dip into the very cold river) and watched the bluest sky catch fire with pinks and golds as the thinnest moon took the place of the sun. The pictures don't do the sunset justice, but it's close enough to still make me desperately, desperately miss it. Oh man, and it's only Wednesday.

Revisit Day 1.

Joshua tree house, day 1

This past weekend was the best weekend of my life, to date. Peter and I had the opportunity to stay in a beautiful -- which isn't nearly a big enough word -- tree house next to a river in Bridgeport, Virginia. It's called the Joshua Tree House and this place had to have been built with magic. The tree house was so warm and cozy, with the most amazing woodwork (mahogany!), an outdoor tub (SO WARM!), a fireplace (EVEN WARMER!!), a skylight above the bed in the loft (STARS!!!!), and a deck that practically hung right over the water (!!!!!!!!!!) which must've been the river whitenoise machine companies go to when they want to record babbling riverbeds because damn that sound was peaceful (PEACEFUL!!!!!!!).

Somehow, we also lucked out and had a very warm weekend for the middle of January -- it was in the 50's, almost 60 degrees, which meant we also got to go kayaking. So yes, it was nice, and we had a lot of fun. I wanted to share some of my favorite pictures from our weekend, because now I'm plugged back into the real world, the government is shutdown, it's a Monday and I woke up to a parking ticket on my car. But at least I can look at these pictures and remember how nice the past three days were. I'll share pictures from day 2 soon.

By the way, if you're ever interested in a good AirBNB, might I recommend the coolest treehouse ever?

Check out day 2.

9 Months

A little over a year ago, something happened under the November-cold silver stars to change everything in my life. I stood on the crooked sidewalk in front of a large house that glowed yellow from the windows. On the front porch was this boy who was on the phone with his mom. The first thing I heard was his laugh. It was freezing outside, I was nervous, and when he realized I was coming up to his front door, he said into the phone, "I'll call you back, I think the girl who's interviewing is here."

He smiled at me, offered me his hand as a hello, and when he noticed I kept tucking my nose under my scarf to stay warm, opened the door and told me to come on in. I don't know when exactly I knew I was in for it, but I think it happened right around the time that smile of his hit me.

It's funny what happens when you try to fight back against the inevitable. Three months of living together, working really hard to permanently categorize one another as "friend" fell in on itself on a Sunday night in the middle of March. The collapse began with a knock on a bedroom door, a rushed confession mutually met, and a kiss goodnight that tipped us over a precipice we couldn't come back from. Once we started, we couldn't stop the fall.

But, god, what a fall.

Nine months, and I'm still crazy over this one. Every day I am hit with how fortunate I am that life pushed me to where I am now. The coincidences that got me to that front porch with that boy standing on it, waiting for me, are almost difficult to believe. We were both worried about the risk we took of beginning this thing together, but it's worked out. It's more than worked out. He is the best bad idea I've ever had.

Every day I love him more. It's ridiculous how happy he makes me, how simple it is for him to fold me into laughter. It doesn't matter how hard a day I've had, or how stressful my week has been, he can always get me to smile. He makes me feel not invincible, but capable--like I can take on any problem without worry (though I usually have many, he helps me brush them aside like old, annoying cobwebs I forgot to clean up). No matter how big or scary or impossible-seeming a task, he has this way about him that lifts everything up and asks, "Why not?" in the most charming and goofy way.

If I think I can't do it, he grins and dares why not? There is nothing that cannot be done with him at my side as my partner. It is incredible and nearly impossible to describe. It is a miracle to witness the things his hands can touch and make better, and I am lucky to be counted among that list. Plus, he tells the best fart jokes.

He is so good, and he is so strong. He is something like home, but god, so so much more. Thank you for nine incredible months. I'm ready for all the rest that will follow, and whatever they may bring.

San Diego, Part 3

Sunday morning in San Diego was filled with museums, if you cannot tell. In addition to touring the Maritime Museum, we got to go explore the USS Midway, an aircraft carrier. The aircraft carrier was so incredibly interesting to tour -- and attempt not to get lost in. This thing was HUGE! We spent a few hours longer than we expected there (so long, in fact, we returned to a parking ticket).

The best part of the USS Midway was the wonderfully knowledgeable staff, most of whom had previously served on the carrier. In fact, a few of the people touring in front of us were telling stories of their own from when they served on the Midway -- apparently, one guy said, after a few weeks in the bunks, even if you were an officer and were bunked in the slightly roomier quarters, you wanted to get out because it smelled so much like sweat. At least the had racks (bunks) with a little more space to stretch. It was also interesting to see the links of the chain to the anchor. Each link weighed 140 pounds.

This was my favorite of the two museums we saw, not only due to its sheer size. My grandfather was a test pilot in the Navy when he was my age, and while this carrier was a little different than the destroyer he was stationed on, it gave me an interesting look at what he was doing. I thought about him a lot as we went through the kitchen, seeing their corn chipped beef ("Shit on a Shingle," as I always knew it and was also told by one of the former Navy museum volunteers it was called). We got to talk to an amazing volunteer in the office of the XO (Executive Officer). Our guided audio tour was telling us that if you got in trouble and were sent to the XO's office, you were in deep. I asked the volunteer if he had served on the Midway, and if he had ever gotten in trouble in this office and he laughed and told us a story where he thought he had gotten called in to be reprimanded but instead received a promotion.

Up on the flight deck, besides getting to look at, and even go walk through if you wanted, helos and planes, you could also see the coast of Coronado. It was warm, sunny, windy and perfectly San Diego. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to live on a ship like the Midway. It was amazing. And, in the bay below us as we stood on the flight deck, a handful of jet skis were flying back and forth, giving us an idea of how to spend the rest of the day.

(See Part 1, Part 2)