To My Dear Adventure,

A new letter is quite overdue. Considering the flood of love that I have for you i really ought to write you more often.
Thank you for your unending patience and support. i know that i can be quite trying at times—particularly when i act like some spoiled brainiac.
Thank you for enjoying the show Elementary every week. i really enjoy it and it is such a treat to have that to share equally with you.
Lately i have really felt to repent and focus more on Christ and His gospel. Sometimes my service/commitment to Him can be quite lackluster. i never understand how i am led into peripheral service when there is such an attending spirit when we engage ourselves in God's work. Particularly for someone like myself who has such a fascination with new information and challenges there is no greater fountain from which to quench my thirst. Nor is there any effort for which one is so richly rewarded.
As i have redoubled my personal study efforts, focused my prayers, and given the
Lord time, i have found he is not short on inspiration to give, nor on work for us to do. i love the Lord, and His work.
Now i return to a comment that i made one evening last week. Particularly i refer to an expression of desire to work with you. This is the desire of my heart, though i think perhaps a little ambitiously unfocused just yet. What i mean is that while yes, it would be fantastic to spend my temporal labors at your side, i have ignored the more important coupling of our spiritual labors. So yes, i want to work with you, but i want to do whatever i can to improve our partnership in the Lord's work.
We meet for family prayer and, occasionally family scripture study, but we rarely study together you and i. Our only prayers are done in bed just as we retire. The best is when, once a week, we meet to counsel.
i am just saying that i want to show you more that i am your partner in this. i am your companion. i am your best friend.
i want to pray earnestly together about our families and goals. i want to set earnest goals with you. i want to face each day as a new opportunity that we have planned together and prayed about together. i want to study this gospel and feel its mighty spirit by your side. i want to counsel with you about my calling and get your advice. i hope to truly be committed coworkers for the Lord and i am sorry that, just as i had let my own commitment and study flounder, i have not worked as intimately as i should desire.
Wouldst thou allow me to repent and improve in thine eyes?
i love you Adventure.

.Patrick

Good Morning Princess,

i hope you find this letter before too long and i hope it reminds you that, while most of your feed has given up substantial blogging, i have not given it up. That may be because to me this is not blogging. To me this is an arm, outstretched; to me this is a digital "i love you."
Thank you for your ever-present company. You perhaps have no idea what a comfort and encouragement you are to me. If i amount to anything may the credit ever be yours as my coach, my friend, my inspiration, my strength. i am only sorry that i do not feel i provide as overwhelming a return to you.
Your talents amaze me. You are constantly too hard on yourself when you consider your skill sets and accomplishments. I don't know that I believe anything is beyond your capacity to accomplish. I feel confident you will master anything you decide to master—the hard part is deciding on what things to master, and in what order (you know I speak from experience here). If you want to work, work. If you want to sew, sew. Make music? Play on. Run races? Race on. You are capable of so much. Don't allow yourself to be defined. You are incredible. You are undefinable. You are everything that so many are not. You are unique among women. You are an angel in our lives. You are my beautiful and talented princess.
Thank you for every day. For every moment. For every kiss. Every touch. Thank you for every look my way. For every kind word. For every breath. Every everything.
Every life's adventure still beckons and awaits. I pray that we my have every one together.

.a boy

Sent from my iPad

Hello Firecracker,

Hello Firecracker,

Your daughter is cutely asleep on the floor beside me. Who knows what such a little what dreams.
You know how, the other week, we went out to the cemetery in Lodi and, though there were hundreds upon hundreds of headstones to observe we found your ancestor almost immediately? Well, I really can't help but know and testify that God cares about every effort in our lives. We may have wandered forever and never found the headstone (there were plenty that were no longer intelligible), but instead we began our search almost on top of our prize.
I can remember President Howard expressing a similar story while he and June were out grave hunting. He said they had an enormous cemetery and no map to search by, but he parked the car and almost stepped out onto the very plot they had come for!
the Lord is so very mindful of our every little something. I know He cares about our family history. I know He cares about our current families. I even know He will take an interest in our mortal pleasures—including sex.
What a mighty and warming thing to know that God is mindful of us and will provide for all that which we cannot do for ourselves.
You are a treasure in my life. Remember that.
I love you.

.Patrick the boy


Sent from my iPhone

To My Firecracker in Life,

To My Firecracker in Life,

It is, at times, overwhelming to love someone as deeply as i do you and yet be limited by the strength of language to express it. i take consolation in the hope that, perhaps, my actions fill gaps left by my words.
i love you infinitely.
My heart aches for you after reading your last letter. i do not know that i realized (at fault to myself, likely) how deep was your disappointment at not having served the mission you so entirely set your heart upon. i do not feel it would be fair for me to say i am sorry you didn't go. Nor can i say that i am sorry they didn't change the age limit earlier. i hope you understand by this that i only intend an expression of joy in my marriage to you. i dread the idea that any part of time's trajectory be changed and your hand never end up in mine.
Often i have heard science tell of the perfectness of the universe; that were one small event changed we might not be.
Still, i mourn for your mourning. i have wanted nothing more than for you to be happy. Thrilled, rather, at every moment and i am sorry that such constant elation has not been provided to you. i miss you each day as i am away and this is augmented by the knowledge that you are at home yearning for more. i am sorry that i cannot seem to provide the answer to all of your heart's aches. i hope that you will always find respite and comfort in me and i pray that, one day soon, you and i will both find the challenge and excitement that passion brings.
One verse for you, as it has been upon my heart recently, are Nephi's words as he is being shown his great vision in 1 Nephi 11:17 "I know that [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things."
i used to feel that what i needed was more and more knowledge; that through ability i gained worth in people's lives and, while this is true, it is a temporary thing. What i really needed was more love. Love is power, and caring compassion. This is something for which you have been my model and inspiration, but i have struggled to feel comfortable letting go of prideful capacity for love and trust. How could i be the help everyone needed if i did not have every talent necessary at every moment? i felt i didn't have time for anything else because there was so much to learn, so many talents to acquire.
The answer has always been trust in the Lord. He has never needed us to be anymore than loving. He asks us to do nothing more than love others and love ourselves; he provides all of our needs.
That, i feel, is what Nephi expresses here. He doesn't have all the answers. He, in fact, has hardly any answers at this point, but he knows the love of God and that is everything. You recall that he ultimately takes he time to laboriously keep two separate scriptural records and he never knows why. He states it is for a wise purpose known to God. He doesn't need to know why the Lord has moved as he has, for he knows God's love and trusts Him.
i hope that at least you always remember that God loveth his children, even if we sometimes do not know the meaning of all things.

i love you firecracker. Keep on shining! We'll have a new bedroom soon.

.a boy


Sent from my iPad

Dear Boy,

This is where my mind has been drifting in drift-able moments this week. Imagine, as you read, a handful of paragraph breaks instead of the one large one presented. You'll probably imagine them in places similar to where I originally put them. Unfortunately, Blogger's new interface seems to have one the battle over readability. Ahem: President Monson announced upon opening General Conference that the age minimum for missionary service has been lowered from 21 to 19 for women.  The news has had a powerful effect on me.  In fact, in the moment, I couldn't hold back the small dam from overflowing my eyes.  I felt the same loss that I've felt many times over the past number of years.  It stung.  It still stings whenever I venture these thoughts afresh.    When I laid my eyes for the first time on two girl missionaries, my heart rejoiced with the realization that I could amount to something of the same sort.  In fact, our branch had sister missionaries for the last years of my Primary membership, who sometimes taught my Sunday School class and I almost worshipped those sisters.  I wanted to be just like them.  And so I planned for and desired to serve a mission as a young woman.  It was the most definite plan I had for my future; its accomplishment was stated as a fact in my patriarchal blessing, and it was a fact in my heart as well.  In high school, I spent plenty of spare hours on "splits" with the sisters.  I relished their company.  I corresponded with them after they left and in return they would send little encouragements my way via post.  I purposely bought missionary styles of long skirts in sizes a bit larger than my then-current frame. Simultaneously, church leaders always preached my missionary service as a second option. I was ingrained with this doctrine, "If a viable option is presented for marriage, it is your responsibility to take it." Mostly, I ignored the second-option declaration, taking little affirmations along the way that it simply would not pertain to me.  For instance, my first experience at EFY gave me the impression that Mormon boys were not interested in girls like me and even if the idea was deflating, it also fueled my mission preparations.  I knew that young ladies were encouraged to get married and have babies, but I knew much deeper in my heart that I needed to serve a mission, that serving one would mold something important out of what I already was, that the world needed something that I had to offer.  Along with knowing those things, I assumed that the opportunity to marry would simply not be a viable option until later.  I even made a deal with my best friend, a boy, that if I waited for him during his missionary service, then he would wait for me while I served; thereby  ensuring a "viable option" upon my return and relieving any guilt I may have otherwise carried for avoiding RMs. We all know how my plans panned out.  After a year and a half of avoiding guys and even months of wearing my roommate's fake engagement ring, I met you, and completely by surprise, my heart knew love in a way it never had before.  I worried it might not ever again.  Suddenly, I had a viable option!  It was my duty to run with it.  So we got married and I knew it was good- you were good- we were good, but I was barely 20 and struggled sometimes against the dreams I had to let go, most particularly the dream I had of being a missionary out in the world on my own, just me and God.  I missed the opportunity.   I gave it up for something divine and wonderful, but I did still give it up and with it the person I was when I had that goal and believed I could do and become something great.   Sometimes that sense of loss still bites down hard; it especially has in the minutes and hours since Saturday's announcement.   My first thought was bitter.  "Ten years too late!" I cried.  But it feeds my inner cynic to be bitter, so I'm choosing to be happy for my sisters and especially for my daughter that the second-option tune seems to be fading into history.  Dear girls, follow your truest dreams!  We will no longer tell you what they should be. Love,  A Lady

Firecracker,

I was thinking, just yesterday (not like thinking is so unique to me that I am announcing it, but like I considered something afresh), as your lips were on mine, that one reason you're a real firecracker is because—corny as it will sound—each time you kiss me it feels like a show of warm fireworks starts up inside. Do you know what I mean? Like my insides begin to warm and feel like they are expanding, kind of like the feeling you get when you hold your hand real close to a campfire on a cold night.
There are a myriad of reasons I would consider you a firecracker, but this is just one I really felt as you kissed me yesterday.
In other news I am excited to have this week to spend with you and, let's be clear, it's not just because work is some miserable place. I don't mind work. There are nice people there. It's a good job. A really good job. It challenges me. It provides me new experiences. It pays the bills. Yet I would at all times prefer to steal time with you if possible because, well, you are my muse. You are my muse and every soul, moved by both mind and heart, will seek out time with their muse at every opportunity.
I know you always wonder why, and I am ashamed to admit that in areas of the heart and inspiration my analytical mind always fails to find conclusions. I have no explanation for it. I have never been able to explain it. You said yes to one date and I have been committed to you whole heart and mind ever since. You are my Wendy. You are the girl who illuminates the adventurous boy in me and encourages me to dream as large as I would like. You are the girl to whom I would like to show every wonder and with whom I would like to share every adventure, and for no other reason than that you are you.
On this note, though we have much work to do this week, let's not forget to have fun to. Like tomorrow, for instance, let's not forget that Nolan has a day off from school. Let's not forget that it is a holiday for his little heart. Let's not get lost in construction and chicken stuff. May we work hard and effectively, but let's remember to make it a vacation day for him. We will have to head into Ithaca anyway to shop, so let's do someone fun, shall we? Maybe the Sciencenter? I still have a free pass.
In closing, to answer your query, I think that it is not socially acceptable for men to wear skirts because we have such ugly, hairy legs. I mean, we're often pretty repulsive looking in general (with the exception of Brad Pitt), so to wear any outfit that shows off more of the male body or even hints at some unsupported private possessions (think Scottish kilts) I fear the roadways would be lined with casualties as men tried not to look at each other and, as a result, crashed into street signs, walls, etc.
Additionally there has long been a movement to bring women into equality with men. This has always been done through women trying to mimic and achieve the allowances of men (and let's be clear, I have always felt women superior to men, so mimicry is not necessary). Never was the feminist movement interested in equality by injecting female traits and activities into the male population; it has always been women wanting to go to the work place, women wanting to vote, women wearing pants. Do you see what I mean? We moved away from loin cloth and robes long ago as men. It seems more convenient and sensible, out in the working world, to wear pants. Now women do it, but the idea of men going to skirts may just be viewed as backwards (again, not to mention disgusting).
Also it is just a current social requirement (think the church expecting clean shaven priesthood holders). Maybe in another hundred years we'll be back in skirts and women will be wearing overalls.
Bytheway, we should get you another pair of overalls. I always loved you in your overalls.
May the sky forever be your vantage point. I love you.

.Boy

Sent from my iPad

Dear Boy of My Cherried Heart,

Here is the question of the day: Why is it socially acceptable for women to wear pants, but not for men to wear skirts? Love,  Me

Dear Boy,

I liked having the dream of farming with you. Even if it wasn't perfect or even very feasible, I just liked having a dream. Something to look forward to. Something to work on. Something to think about and plan for. I like the idea of seeing more of you. I like having common goals that cause more collaboration.

I do like the idea of a homestead (in Spokane?) but it's fairly sad to me that it's not something we could thrive off of. So what now? I don't really like to just keep going as I am because I need something to feel like I'm working towards besides a clean kitchen and a weekly menu. Surviving the grocery store with three kids is somewhat of a triumph, but not enough for me. I feel like I could do something else, something more, and still do everything I already am doing.

On a completely different note, I have some shame or embarrassment related to sex, especially when it comes to talking about it. I thought writing my notes instead of saying them aloud would be easier for me, but it turns out I'm equally inhibited when it comes to writing, even if all it would take is copying and pasting. I wish I could be more honest and forthcoming when it came to this, but something in me won't allow for that. So there's that.

I love you. I hope by some miracle you always know it, because I think I do a crappy job of showing it. Thank you for being ever patient with me and kind to me. I don't know how you do it, but I'm grateful you do. You see something in me that I have yet to see for myself and maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

-a lady

Dear best friend,

Is it creepy that i enjoy sitting at the edge of the bed watching you sleep? You are beautiful when you're dreaming.
Quick note, i think it's fine that you print your sex notes here. i am curious to read them.
i am sorry that it doesn't look like farming will work out for us. It has been a realization i have fought against for the past couple of weeks—even before we began talking about Spokane. i love the ideal of farming (who doesn't love an ideal), but i don't love that no one seems to ultimately have brilliant things to say about farming. i think, potentially, that farming is an ideal that is lost to this world at this time. It's too bad. It's really too bad, but i would rather have a few free hours a day with you to do as we please; that is as opposed to no longer controlling the schedule of our lives and spending all day every day caring for a farm just to eek a living.
Then there's the issue of no health insurance.
No disability pay.
No vacation.
No retirement account.
No free time.
No guaranteed wages.
And the list goes on.
i am still caught in whiffs of euphoria at the thought of me and you walking out through our pastured lands, but i want to show you do much more than farm land (missions, vacations, sporadic adventures) and when you are a farmer there just doesn't seem to be much more than that.
So we will have our little homestead to have our delicious, natural foods, and i will continue working at a good job for now, and we will devise upon something new.
I love you.
Now, you asked me for a list, and so here it is, best as i can muster and in no particular order of importance:

1. Bavarian cream donuts. Not necessarily the donuts themselves, but that someone cares enough about me to pay attention to the nonessential details of my life.

2. Snuggling up next to me.

3. The interest you take in my writing.

4. Counciling together. When we sit down and discuss our plans and goals i feel the love and satisfaction of being on the best team (like i was surprisingly picked first to play on the best kickball team at recess :)

5. Moments when you randomly nuzzle up to me with a kiss (like when i am making breakfast, etc.).

6. Finding little notes from you, or these letters on our blog.

7. Knowing you post pictures of me on instagram just because you like me.

8. Your patience with me indicates you feel there is more to me than moments when i am not perfect. It seems to indicate that you perceive there might be a perfect day somewhere inside of me.

9. When i hear you laughing a pure, child-like laugh, i get goosebumps. There is just something about seeing you so totally enthralled that makes you shine and then when i consider that you (in all your wonder) choose to be with me, i consider that there just might be something worthwhile to this person i call me.

10. Holding your hand in the temple and hugging you when at last we are together in that celestial room. What a moment that is every time!

So there you are. Perhaps not an exhaustive list, but i am exhausted. Maybe i'll crawl back into bed with you.
i love you for always.

.your best friend

ps: i really like country bumpkins


Sent from my iPad

Dear (Where are you?) Boy,

I read There Will Be Flags again. You know, the writing you wrote? You gave it to me at our anniversary last year? Remember? I hope you do. Can I tell you that it's my most favorite thing I've ever read? It truly is. Maybe I'm biased, but I'm also honest. It tugs at something deep inside. You did something masterful in writing it. I love your talent for language. I love the spinning of your mind. I wish sometimes I was more familiar with it.

Love, Me

Dear (hello? Can you hear me?) Boy,

Just tuning in to let you know that your daughter and mine has developed a taste for dog food this morning. No matter how many times I have stopped her from playin in the bowl or had to actually scoop the nuggets out of her mouth and wash the foul smelling crumbs from her face, she frantically makes her way back to the bowl as soon as I remove her from the scene.

And I want you to know that I love you.

That's all.

-your lady

P.S. when you get this, will you please respond by listing 10 specific things that most make you feel loved and cared for. Thanks.

Dear (are you still there?) Boy,

This is guaranteed to be lengthy. It's to make up for lost time. You may not discover it for a while anyway, which will be more lost time. Anyway, I have a specific plan for what I'll write here and I already know that it's a lot.

This is about Spokane. It's not really how I feel about Spokane at this point in my life, but it may indicate in some ways the forces that work on me and the almost daily fluctuations of my heart. The following quotations are two entries in my journal written on our last trip to WA. The first is dated July 31, 2009.


"So, here I am writing from Spokane. The summer is almost spent. Nolan is almost three. I've been married to he boy of my dreams for almost five years. I am a procrastinator when it comes to writing in my journal.

We're in Spokane. Visiting Patrick's family for two weeks. Whenever we're here I feel like I just want to stay and live here. His family is big. Nolan and Gerret have cousins to play with. Patrick's siblings are mostly grown up and they're such great people. The Church is bigger and stronger out here. The only thing (besides Patrick's job) that keeps me from moving out here is that I feel so needed by my family. My poor family out there seems to be floundering. My grandparents just celebrated their fiftieth anniversary and it was awkward for everyone to celebrate because they don't seem the least bit content in their marriage. My parents have three jobs between the two of them. The job that my dad has held for twenty-six years is miserable and stressful and I really think it's killing him, but he keeps holding on because he knows people have to be grateful for any job these days. My mom works as a labor and delivery nurse. So my sisters suffer. All because my parents do not manage their money well. And I'm left to try to take care of them and my two boys and try not to succumb to depression. I wish his vacation would never end."

That's all of the first one. The second one was written just a couple days later, August 1, 2009.

"Perhaps it is because of the triple digit weather that my attitude toward being here has changed so dramatically. Whatever it is, I missed NY today. I guess I'm not willing to give up the wide open spaces, rain clouds, and countless natural places to cool off when it does (rarely) get too hot. It turns out that I am out of my element in a city. Sometimes the conveniences sound nice and I am so tempted by living close to PTB's family, but when it comes down to the feelings in my heart, I just don't think I fit in here. It's uncomfortable to try. I guess once you're born a country bumpkin, you'll always be one. So, when this vacation is over, I'll be ready to return home."

That's all for now. What do you think about me mentioning sex on this public blog? I mean, I just did.... But I was thinking about posting some of my notes on here if that's not distasteful to you.

Love,
Your Country Bumpkin

Dear Lady,

I'm glad we ended up married. You and me just go so well together.
It has been quite the journey becoming husband and wife and then parents. It's not an easy thing is it? It's crazy when I think about it sometimes. Choosing to be a parent is definitely not as the world sees it—an abandonment of opportunity to live wild and free—it's the ultimate show of courage. In becoming parents we have no idea what is in store for us. We don't know what gender the child will have. We can't know the personality. We don't know our challenges from day to day. We do it though. Some days it's great. Some days it's insane. But we do it, and those moments when all our family is safely gathered in—safe and peaceful—are of more value than any moments the single individuals of the world can claim to.
I'm glad that I am a parent with you. There is no one I would rather do this with. No one I would rather see every day when I wake up. You are every best moment of my life. You are my life. I hope you always remember how much this brown-eyed kid loves you. How special you are to this explorer.

.a boy

Sent from my iPad

Dear Boy,

I have a difficult time "living in the moment" because I generally feel unsatisfied with myself. There is a constant lack in what I am and what I do. My thought on myself and what I do is this: I'm an ant. I scurry, hurry around, keep busy, keep on planning, but in a fairly meaningless way. So I look forward to a future wherein I will mystically and magically be enough- smart enough, patient enough, organized enough, kind enough, healthy enough, etc., etc. And then, then everything I do, scurrying or not, will have great meaning.

I'm telling you this because last night, you fell asleep and I was awake next to you with my cheek on your back and my arm around your waist and my mind turning (as always, ever turning). I thought about the brevity and fragility of life, but wasn't bothered by it. For those minutes (maybe many) before I drifted into unconsciousness, for once I felt enough. I did not look to the future, I did not hope to be anything different, I did not succumb to my usual worry, I did not feel inadequate, I was not overwhelmed. I was filled with complete contentment. It was such an unusual feeling that I'm still reeling a bit from the experience.

So on unrelated notes:

Thank you for my engagement ring, again. I like being engaged with you. Being married to you is my favorite thing to be. By far. And my ring is a beautiful reminder of that. Every time I notice it there on my finger, I smile thinking of the prospect of being engaged in this kind of friendship with you and taking this continual walk with you.

What should I do with that dog?? Bathe her?

Nolan's games don't start for two weeks, so he won't have to miss one tomorrow. He needs a glove to play... we have one that belonged to my sisters, but it's for right handers. What do you think? Have him throw with his right hand? Or try to find a lefty glove? Do they even make those in small sizes? I'll send him with the one we have today, because it didn't occur to me until this morning.

Thank you for the imagination dragons music. Thank you especially for caring. I didn't expect you to, but it really feels nice when you show interest in something I'm interested in and vice-versa. I don't think it happens too often -us having common interests beyond our family, home, and the church. Perhaps it doesn't matter that we don't care much about the same things, but I deeply appreciated your effort.

I love you, dear boy. I miss you when you're not here. I always hope your days will be full and happy.

Love, the big L

Dear Lady,

i spent some time this morning listening to Imagine Dragons. You liked them. You talked about them. So I thought it would be worth my time to check them out too. I'll admit they're not my favorite kind of music, but I did think they were really good. I couldn't find any of the instances where he harmonized with the girl, but their stuff was still really good. It was varied too. It reminded me a little bit of XTC—that old album i got at Cornell.
i guess i should say that i do like Imagine Dragons a lot, but that they are more of a contemplative sound to me—not so much something i just pop in in the background. They would be neat to see in concert though (if they ever come to the area we should check 'em out). It's nice to have the added comfort of knowing a band's morals too; i would never worry about the content with Imagine Dragons. The band members seem cool too. i found some stuff that they did on YouTube, just joking around, and it was pretty great too. Maybe you should check out the Avett Brothers. i burned their cd onto our computer . . . i think. They aren't as hard as Imagine Dragons, but they do have the same folk sort of vibe.
Anyway, i love you. Have a great day. And, if you have time, check out the iPod app on the iPhone. Look under 'I' in the artists section—i got you a little something (it was the only one they had).

.a boy

Sent from my iPad

Dear Lady,

It's not much, but it's a quick note to tell you that you are my every inspiration. I told you once about a conversation I had with Janelle about my choice of career path—how I wanted to do something that mattered in the world, something that would help people. Her response to me was that my writing and creativity had made a huge difference in her life, and by extension in the lives of the children she would have, and so on. Well, I need to tell you that you are that influence in my life. Our every conversation, our every moment together, you encourage me and lift me up. Every time I want to give up on something you buoy me up again.
Its hard to spend so much of your day in pursuits that are not entirely satisfying. Banking is really not for me, and I long to do something else. It's hard though, to try and build up something else in the time of day remaining to me. I know that, in the long run, it would be for the best to give the time now and set myself up for the future, but it's still easy to get frustrated and give up.
Your interest and encouragement in my writing, photography, and adventuring, keep me going. You are my every last bit of energy. I keep trying because I know how much that effort means to you. I hope that, someday, we will both find that balance of duty and passion we both want. Until then I hope you'll continue to trust me, love me, and hold my hand along the journey.

Your boy

Dear Boy, this is an honestly honest, honestly glum note. I'll apologize ahead of time.

Maybe because my head is pounding, but not entirely, I'm having the culmination of rough days. I feel so ineffective and worthless. What a waste of minutes and days and entire years I am. And instead of doing something about it I just feel like weeping today. I am disorganized and not much of a contributor. I don't like being a stay at home mom because I am a pissy one. Ask the children who don't like me much and shout at me to communicate things and spend hours and hours watching zoboomafoo and scooby doo. I stink at my calling. I'm an inconsistent visiting teacher. My house is dirty. I rarely cook good meals never make breakfast and have noodles everyday for lunch. Bored. Fat. Frustrated. I cant even manage to wake up at a decent time. That is because I do not look forward to new days. I'm not sure what it is you like about me. And I'm not asking you to tell me.
From L

Dear Boy,

#1. I'd like to be involved in our budget. Can you help me?

#2. I don't know if we will be able to afford finishing the back room this year. Maybe we should have a few people price it and see? If not... Our "bedroom" is cozy the way it is.

#3. I guess I need to turn up the volume on my alarm. Or alternate ring tones every day.

From,

Your Lady

My Dear Boy,

You take care of me and make up for me so well. I knew I was completely in love with you when I chose to be with you, but I had no idea how much I would need you. If only I could care for you half as well and thankfully I have eternity to learn it.
Though the list of things for which to thank you is ever expanding. A few today that I would especially like to mention...
Thank you for being exceptional in the mornings while I am anything but.
Thank you for every time you have ever showed compassion and cleaned up after I puked. (Why have I been the puker in our marriage?)
Thank you for being the other half of my parenting, for learning it with me, for laughing through it with me, for being such an involved and loving dad.
Thank you for being a spiritual example to me.
Thank you for cutting your hair, because heaven knows I don't always have the will to do so.
Thank you for trying out new and sometimes wild ideas with me... like putting the sink in the middle of the kitchen and putting holes in our Maples and untested recipes.
Thank you for encouraging me to improve myself and make good on my interests and talents.
Thank you for working a job that you don't love to provide for me and them and you.
Thank you for being ever-patient with me.
And now back to the pot pie. Crust is intimidating, so I needed a little break.
I love you, dear boy. You become dearer to me everyday. I'm glad to be with you, to grow up and out and old with you, to do fun things and hard things with you.

From, your lady

Dear Boy,

Hi. My name is frustrated. I'm your wife.

Smile.

It's one o clock in Interlaken.

I am unshowered, unexercised, smelly in my pajamas.

Gerret is eating leftover noodles and pineapple. He's sipping the juices from the tupperware with a straw.

The baby is napping. I put her down five minutes ago. I hope she will sleep for longer than she did this morning so I can get in some exercise and hygiene before the bus. I wish the Mac would correct my spelling like the iphone so kindly did for me. I don't like having to know how to spell hygiene. It took me two tries.

Since she didn't sleep this morning, Gerret and I made brownies for family night while she sat in the swing. Betty asks for the butter and chocolate to be melted together in a saucepan before you add it to the sugar and eggs. We burned it a little. So the brownies have a slightly overcooked flavor. The batter did too, so neither of us felt inclined to lick the bowl. What a waste.

My other goals for today:

1. list that propane hunk of junk on craigslist. The photos would only show up as a failed source, no matter how many different ways and locations I tried saving them in. Finally I thought I'd just post it anyway, so I did. And it all just disappeared. Frustrating. Seems to be a common theme for me and computers.

2. un hook the exhaust pipe from said furnace for its upcoming removal from the kitchen. So many screws were removed, but glue seemed to be used as a reinforcement. And one key screw would not budge for the life of me. So... it's still attached and I'm sweaty from trying. And even more frustrated.

Sorry to complain, but it feels good to get it off my chest. What should I do? Give up and not try? It seems that most of my efforts are thwarted. Or maybe I look for too much perfection.

From Me

Dear Love,

The computer system is down today.  These are always interesting days.  My computer is up and running so I hurried and finished all my necessaries and now my office is a revolving door for other employees to use the computer. 

We didn’t get to discussing the planting of our garden, but I’m glad we got the locale figured out.  I am thinking, however, that if we use tires to line the garden it might make it a little more difficult to reach into.  Do you know what I mean?  If the garden was boarded in then there is only a 1-2” perimeter.  If, however, we use tires, then we have to lean in over 16” tires before getting to the garden which, given our 48” arm span, only leaves about 16” in the center to garden.  What do you think?

Further, I think we ought to probably invest in some buckets to store the sap. We are cutting it close right now and we just barely installed the extra spiles.  There’s no way we’ll make it through next week.  It’s so exciting though.  The extra sap, how well everything is flowing, the new boiler, and the thought of so much good, fresh, homemade syrup.  Thanks for having the idea to do this.  I like your ideas.  I like you.  I like being married to you.

In fact I love it.

 

.PtB

 

Patrick K. Mitchell

Assistant Branch Manager

CFCU Community Credit Union

99 Sheraton Drive

Ithaca, NY 14850

patrick.mitchell@mycfcu.com

(607)257-3011 ext. 3402

NMLS#809827

 

Good morning Love,

Have i ever told you just how much i love being awake while you're sleeping? i mean i love having you awake and talking to me/playing with me/working with me, but there is a quiet joy in seeing you so peaceful. They are very poetic little moments. i am sure i could spend a long time observing your beauty, being fascinated by the way our body works to keep us alive—watching your chest rise and fall as you breathe, or giving you tiny kisses that go unnoticed by you.
Even when you are asleep you are my favorite moments. i am anxious to have next week off and be able to see you more often. You are THE love of my life.
i wrote this haiku in our third year of marriage, about the experience of watching you sleep:

the room is cool blue
i tiptoe to her bedside
warm up next to her

.patrick

Sent from my iPad

Fwd: Hello friend,

i miss you as always. What a terrible part of life huh? Though, i suppose, an absence of longing would be indicative, also, of an absence of far greater things. Love, for instance.
i'm just writing to you quickly to submit the idea that before we renovate the dresser, perhaps we ought to use the same monies to do all of our construction upstairs on the boys' room. Closet. Painting. Reading nook. Gate/door at the top of the stairs. What do you think? i really like your idea about a reading nook. Really like it. i love great libraries—which is kind of funny since i do almost all of my reading on the iPad. We'll just never be able to replace the feeling of a book in the hands and the rustling of pages. i would still be reading my scriptures in hard copy if not for the impossibility of taking adequate notes anywhere but the iPad.
Anyway, just a note to tell you i love you and i'll see you tonight.

.another friend

ps. Settlers?

Sent from my iPad

Dear friend,

i have an idea.

From You -Know-Who (no not that you-know-who ;)

To Patrick, My Best Friend, Favorite Boy, and Most Attractive Guy I Know Of,

I had to add that in there at the end, because I know I don't let it slip very often. The truth of the matter though is that I love to look at you which makes me want to touch you and I love to touch you. You might as well know it that I think you're handsomely, hottly, good-looking. Ah, but that's not really what I came here to say today.
I came to reply with this:
I think some dispensable income would be useful in investing in whatever it is we're going to do together. We'd be more likely to stick with our ideas if we had sacrificed and invested (not just money, but money too) to make it happen. You know? I'd like to work with you. I'd love to feel more useful. I'd like to be well enough off to be able to travel and to have more ability to help other people. You like to explore and learn. I like to make things better and I like to do physical labor. We both have a desire to share our experiences and joys with other people. So... What can we do with that? I don't think we have to have a definite answer to begin with, but we have to start with something. Even if that something isn't what we end up doing in the long run.

I love you, my boy. I want to do everything with you. I think we can be great. I think that together we are already great but I'm so sure we could be and do a lot better.

Love, a lady

Dear friend,

You know how most days it seems like we don't get much time together? Well, we don't. This is probably the point i am least happy about in life. i understand that we will have an eternity together (if we live up to our covenants), but when you consider that we always talk about preparing for eternity now, it seems we should be practicing spending an eternity together by spending more time together here and now. Doesn't that make sense?
i know i've said this a lot (and meant it every time), but i would really like to work in something that allows me more time with you. Even if it weren't a family business, just more time at home or with you, i would at last be satisfied. i have thought about this from the moment i stepped away from film for the first time. i just want time with you. Time to work together. To talk together. To laugh together (you can't know what a lift it is to my heart to hear you laughing). i have wanted this for so long and yet i don't know that i'm any closer to figuring it out. Any ideas? i know the things that i enjoy, but how to live off of them i'm not sure. Sometimes i feel like i'm not making any progress because i'm a ship holding my mooring to the dock. We make decent money. Have decent benefits. A beautiful home and a wonderful family. As much as i want to improve and move on, perhaps i am too afraid of losing the comfort we already have to do any better.
In any case, i love you. You are my adventure. Every escapade is magnified when you're along for the ride.

From your friend.