a fall porch.

I've never felt much inspired by the changing seasons, but this year is different. Last year, I got really into Christmas (you know...my first married Christmas) and this year, I'm really into fall. Well, for the time being at least while it actually IS fall.

My good friend Karoline posted a picture on Facebook of the fall wreath she made for their door. And I immediately wanted one. Karoline is so talented and should be a professional do it yourselfer. She walks into Michaels on a mission. I walk into Michaels feeling crafty and inspired, walk out a hundred bucks poorer and go home and feel overwhelmed.

As you can imagine, I was so excited when she said she would make me a wreath and ship it to me!!

And now I present to you our fall porch!!!

I am so in love with it. It was definitely a team effort. The wreath, perfectly made by Karoline and perfectly hung by Bill. The door mat was a surprise I had sent to our house for Bill in honor of our (note: our in this case our really means his) favorite team. I purchased two of the pumpkins and the lantern at the Teeter but it looked dinky - not to mention I really didn't know what I was actually supposed to DO with the lantern -  so we got some hay, some mums and some additional pumpkins. Bill is responsible for the arranging of the props. He also is responsible for how great our hanging mums look. Before those were there we had two really dead Boston ferns hanging because the porch doesn't get much sun, and neither of us watered them for pretty much the entire summer. Oh and in the corner you'll see the leprechaun plant Aunt Libby gave me when we visited her house for Sunday lunch back in March. Like all my plants, it has a multitude of lives and is currently living a good one in the one sunny spot we have on our fall porch.

And now, I give you this quote by one of my fave writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald:  Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

Man, isn't that the truth? So much life that now I am thinking about the Christmas wreath I know Karoline is going to make me. And my Christmas porch (because what is a wreath without its porch?) that will not include the light up train station my sister loves or the giant blow up Santa because I sold him on Craigslist.

Anniversary Weekend!

Our anniversary weekend started off on the right foot with a stop by Biscuitville for some chicken biscuits (with cheese, thank you very much) and some diets. (Yes, Natalie, when you wrote on my facebook that you hoped we ate lots of chicken biscuits, you had no idea that we already were doing so!)

Back when we were making plans for our anniversary, we decided we wanted to go somewhere that neither of us had been, but that wouldn't be too far away. After many great suggestions from facebook friends, we settled on Columbia, NC, where a friend from college owns a B&B. I for one had never heard of Columbia, NC but it turns out, it's precious. We read an article in Our State Magazine about it, and determined that was our destination!

So, we headed east, first with a stop in Edenton, NC. I hadn't ever been to Edenton, but it's super romantic (yay!) and cute. On the way, I read TripAdvisor reviews to Bill about the different restaurants in Edenton, and we settled on a little bistro based on one review about their reuben sammie. It was TASTY. We did a little browsing in Bloomingdeals, a local consignment shop not to be confused with Bloomingdales, and then headed to the water front. We stopped in at the visitor center and got a little history lesson (did any of you people know that there was an Edenton Tea Party - yes, same as the Boston tea party - that was hosted by a woman and it caused quite a stir with the town and their menfolk over in England?) We contemplated a boat ride, and got shunned from the lighthouse (private tours only apparently) and then made an excellent decision to stop in at the soda shop and get an ice cream cone before heading to Columbia.

We had reservations at The Brickhouse Inn, which is one one end of the main - and maybe the only - drag in Columbia. I can't believe I didn't take any pictures of it! We had some time before we could check in, so we did a little window shopping in this man's antique store. Turns out he retired from New York to Columbia and opened an antique store. I thought that was interesting but also pretty cool because he was living his dream! We left there, walked 100 feet more, and took a walk on the boardwalk, through the swamp. It was so peaceful and really beautiful. Funny that the boardwalk ends right across the street from the local wine shop, and even funnier how thirsty one can become while walking through the swamp. Needless to say, we stopped by for a taste of local wine and a smoothie.

After our wine tasting, it was time to check in, shower and get ready for dinner at Old Salt Oyster Bar, which my friend also owns. Everyone was so welcoming, and the space was really cool. We had an app of cheese and crackers, and Bill had a steak and I had crab (local! Columbia is a big crab hub for the east coast). And.It.Was.Delicious. For dessert, we had our wedding cake topper!! And an entire bottle of prosecco.

The cake tradition was really fun! My friend from college, Anna, made our wedding cake. She owns a bakery in Wilmington - One Belle Bakery - and is super talented. She's been on TLC too! I was really excited about having a famous pastry chef (is that what you're called Anna?) do our wedding cake and it was so yummy. So yummy in fact that there wasn't anything left except our cake topper, and Bill and I only got a smidge at the cake cutting. So we had been looking forward to eating an entire layer of this delicious cake all on our own for literally a year.

It was pretty good too! I mean, it wasn't as fresh as I imagine it was the day we got married, but considering it had been sitting in a freezer - with live flowers on top - for a year, it was pretty good.

The next morning, we had a HUGE southern breakfast before heading back home. I had never stayed in a REAL B&B but after that breakfast, I will definitely be trying to make it a habit. Anyone who knows us knows we enjoy our meals. We had breakfast casserole, hash brown casserole, biscuits, cinnamon bread, the best bacon I've ever had, and some other dishes I can't even remember.

So after we rolled ourselves to the car, we headed back home. And promptly stopped at Biscuitville for one last weekend chicken biscuit (not to be confused with a weekday chicken biscuit. Because they are very different).

And now our anniversary is over. And we've been married for more than a year. Onward!

one year later.

Dear Bill:

I can't believe our one year anniversary is almost here! We have the cute little B&B booked, our wedding cake topper ready for defrosting, and I hope the perfect new dress I had delivered this week fits.

It took me so long to find you. So many tears, so much deep, heart felt pain, so much anxiety. And then, all of a sudden, there you were.  And you became everything to me, almost immediately. It was only a few weeks in that we planned to get married, and here we are, haven't even known each other for two years, and we've already been married for one.

It is such a privalege to be your wife and to do life next to you, with you. It makes me sad to think of all the people who don't know your heart because they are missing out on such a gem.

You are so funny, so kind, so smart, so gentle, so sweet. After all, I do call you my sweet boy bill. I feel like you have taken the words Bruce spoke over us at our wedding to heart and have tried your best to uphold them during the course of our marriage. Every day, I wake up feeling so loved and so accepted. I feel like every day you take from your store room of love and add to mine. Even on my worst days, when my insecurities and my fears from the past come creeping up, you love me through them and remain steadfast in your gentleness and love. You show grace when I don't deserve it  and you show patience when I know inside you just want to gouge your eyes out. Or mine. You are my hero.

Our wedding was perfect to me; an absolute dream. I love looking at our wedding album and remembering every little detail and how full our lives were that day. I loved that so many people loved us enough to celebrate with us as we started our life as one. I remember our honeymoon and how much fun it was, being totally relaxed and away from the day to day stresses life can bring (me more than you because I can over analyze and be anxious about things until I am blue in the face. You on the other hand are go with the flow Bill and seem to have mastered the art of not worrying. And I love you for the balance you bring to our life).

I  knew taking our vows wasn't something to be taken lightly, and I knew marriage would be hard. And plenty of people told us the first year of marriage was the hardest. Of course, I don't think either of us really believed that. I mean, we were in a whirlwind of love and joy and celebration. What could go wrong?

I remember the fear we felt that cancer had returned, and the pure elation we felt when it turned out to be a false diagnosis. I remember the joy of new jobs and the excitement of a new place to live. But I also remember the stress of new jobs and the stress of moving. I remember the feelings of (whatever you want to call them) from taking a financial planning class and learning to manage our money now that we were one, and I remember how trying it was for us to have only one working car for a few months. I remember being in debt, and I remember the feelings of relief to wash over us when we no longer were.  I remember the excitement of our first married trip. I remember so much laughter, so much fun, so much life lived together in this first year.

This first year of marriage has shown me just how selfish I can be. I would be lying if I said shifting my focus from me to us wasn't hard (and it IS different than dating. I don't care what anyone says). Sometimes, I just want to do what I want to do and buy what I want to buy and go where I want to go and make huge life decisions without explanation and without having to check in with you. But, that defeats the purpose of teamwork, and I don't want to be in a marriage where we aren't on the same team. Over the past year, I have learned that the long term benefit of being selfless outweighs the short term benefit of doing things my way all the time. I have learned that the more I strive to serve you and to love you well, the better I am as a helpmate, and the better our marriage is. I have learned that self sacrifice is a daily choice and as long as it's with you, it's a choice I want to make day after day. It's also a choice that has made me even more grateful for new mercies every day, because there are a lot of days where I mess up, and I need another chance.

This first year of marriage has been such a source of joy and has brought meaning and purpose to my life. I love so many things about you and even when we have hurt each other, you're the only one I want to do life with. You complement me in so many ways and don't let me take myself too seriously. You bring fresh insight to my thoughts and you don't seem to mind all my feelings, even if they are just a whole lot of the same ones! You don't mind my lists, my love for MTV,  my belief that Barbara is human, you appreciate the little things I do for you, you bring me flowers often, you affirm me and you encourage my dreams and hopes for the future. To quote Taylor Swift, your hands are rough but they are where mine belong.

Sometimes, I still lose my breath and have to pinch myself because I never thought I would find this love, and even now, it's still sometimes hard for me to believe it's real and it's mine. It just never occurred to me that such goodness was waiting for me. I don't feel deserving of you at all but you are my living proof that our God is a God of grace and mercy and second chances. You are my answered prayer and evidence of His faithfulness.

So here's to our first year of marriage. I am so excited for the ones to come.

Mr. and Mrs. Lunes

Speaking of Rue La La, they have had a lot of luggage for sale lately. This has prompted a few conversations/reminiscings of our honeymoon to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico.

For starters, I think it is important to note that Mexico may or may not have caused me to hold the first ever temper tantrum of our relationship (don't ask Bill though because he and I have a difference in opinions when it comes to my "temper tantrums").

So, our honeymoon was gifted to us from his dad and stepmom. They have a time share and each kid had been gifted a week for their honeymoons anywhere they wanted to go in the time share network and we were cashing in on our turn! We thought about going to Hawaii, since neither of us had been, but we were working on a condensed time line and the nice places were already booked solid. We did find a hotel a mile from the beach with a murphy bed that was available, but I just wasn't too interested in sleeping on a bed that falls out of the wall for my honeymoon. So I cried.

Then Bill did the unthinkable and suggested Mexico and I cried even more. I did NOT want to go to Mexico, no matter how many nice beautiful romantic hotels Bill showed me. Let's not forget, I had been on a Ladymoon to a Sandals in Jamaica years earlier, and I wanted my honeymoon to be better than that, and that was going to be hard to beat, and I just knew if it was to be beaten, it was not going to be by Mexico. I meant, they have a drug carttel in Mexico and I wasn't trying to get killed (or do drugs) on my honeymoon. So I cried. I stamped my feet. I slammed some doors. and yelled repeatedly "I do not want to go to Mexico! Even if it is free!" (Side note: as I write this, I am surprised Bill still went on a honeymoon with me at all because it appears as though I was being ridiculous).

Well. We ended up in Mexico. Somehow I managed to see through my tears and we found a beautiful resort called Secrets in Puerto Vallarta. It is basically the Sandals of Mexico. The reviews on TripAdvisor were fabulous (we all know how I love my reviews!) and it was a new property and they had a honeymoon package where they would put a sash on your door and rose petals in the bathtub - and even though we all know I feel like hotel bathtubs are pretty creepy, the idea of it was just so romantic and I just got so excited and forgot all about how much I hated Mexico an hour earlier.

So we book our hotel and our flights and that was one more thing off the wedding to do check list. Bill said to remind him to get his luggage from his dad's house so we could take that. Well, because I am a world traveler (and have only carry on luggage), I somehow got it in my head that we could only take one suitcase PER COUPLE on an international flight. ONE SUITCASE PER COUPLE. Bill just couldn't quite understand, but just went along with it for some reason. And since we could only take one suitcase per couple, Bill asked his dad if we could just borrow his largest suitcase. And then we packed both of us for an entire week in one suitcase. I think Bill was only allowed to bring one or two pairs of pants, one pair of shoes and some bathing suits. which sounds fine when you're going to the beach, except we were going to an all inclusive and they have all those weird dress requirements for the restaurants. So Bill was just going to have to switch out his outfits and we would both wear repeats because we just were not going to pay to check an additional bag past our one suitcase per couple. (side note: it must have been wedding frenzy because the tickets clearly say 1 bag per person checked for free but that's neither here not there).

When we got there, all the English speaking Spaniards thought the last name Monday was hilarious (Bill told me to just wait till I took his name and then I would understand. And yes, sweet hubby, I too now say I am "Monday just like the day of the week" so you were right) so they referred to us as "Mr. and Mrs. Lunes." All week long. Even the card on our roses in the room said "Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Lunes." And then somehow, one of the waiters decided Bill's first name surely must be Allen. So ALL WEEK LONG it was "good morning Senor Allen. Hello Mrs. Lunes." We thought this was hysterical. Mainly because if Bill did introduce us by name to the waiters, he definitely didn't make up our names, so we have no clue where they got the name Allen.

The hotel was everything the reviews (and Bill) said it would be. It was beautiful, clean and romantic. It was without a doubt, the perfect honeymoon. We met some fun friends (shoutout!) whom we have stayed in touch with and actually seen since our honeymoon. We stayed up late (not taking baths. But it did look pretty! and smelled like roses!) and ordered room services just because we could (note: breakfast sausage at 2a in Mexico may turn out to be vienna sausages) and we watched Mexican Hatfields and McCoys (which is a great series if you haven't gotten into it).  We showed up at the pool every morning at 9a and our waiters would bring by our morning pick me up. (Mom, you'll be glad to know we were the only people at the resort who ordered diet cokes as their morning pick me up instead of tequila...obviously that is an afternoon pick me up! i kid, i kid). At 11 every day they hosted water aerobics. Right in front of our chairs at the pool. And every day at 1050 they would say "so today you do aerobics?" and every day at 1051 we would say "not today, maybe tomorrow" and then our waiter would bring us our lunch, which I have exhibited here. Yes, every day for lunch we ate exactly the same thing at exactly the same time. every day. and it was wonderful.

Every day we picked out an activity to do the next day - we had high hopes of kayaking, scuba diving, yachting -  but for some reason every day our only activity ended up just being us telling the pool staff we would participate in water aerobics the next day because we were too  busy chowing down on delicious burgers and watching aerobics today. Oh wait, that's false. We did venture off property to Happy Hands Massage Parlor for a massage, and Bill did hold some sea turtles close to his face before releasing them. I only took pictures so as not to contaminate my hands with salmonella.


Watching the little turtles was really a cool experience and I was quite proud of myself for only telling the story of the Arabian who asked me if I wanted to see his turtles at Myrtle Beach only a few times to strangers. My arabian accent is pretty cool if you are curious about it.

So this brings me back to my original point. Luggage has been for sale on Rue La La a few times lately, and we do have free shipping. Turns out, since Mexico ended up being a dream instead of the nightmare I knew it would be when the drug cartel came for us, we decided to go back again this year with Bill's whole family! I found some  beautiful luggage we should purchase, one bag for each of us since you know, we get a free checked bag per ticket. But Bill said no, we would just get his luggage from his dad's house and use that. Luckily for Bill, whether we use his luggage or buy new luggage, he gets his own bag this time. And more than one or two pairs of hankies for the week.

ooo lah lah for rue la la

When I lived in Charlotte, I had a friend who introduced me to Rue La La. And by introduce, I mean she got a credit when I bought something. So of course, in turn, I have introduced friends in hopes of getting my own credits!

I have bought a lot from Rue La La at a discount. I mean, I think it's a discount. Maybe it's just the thrill of buying "designer" online when I should be working, but whatever it is, it is hard to say no to a Rue La La box on your doorstep (and in the words of my friend, "I always say Ooo lah lah for Rue La La").

The greatest perk about Rue La La is that once you buy something, you get 30 days of free shipping. So you can imagine how much my purchasing power goes up during the 30 days of free shipping.

The other day, they had mattresses on sale. Now, Bill and I had just discussed getting a new mattress. Our mattress is a hardly used before now mattress from the lake, and the guest bedroom mattress is my old mattress that rolls to the center, so no use in switching that over.  However, apparently, in typical Bill fashion, when he mentioned maybe getting a new mattress, he didn't mean right away. He just meant eventually. Sort of like if it ain't broke, don't fix it. But when I heard mattress, I got all kinds of excited because I had just seen that Rue La La was hosting a Sealy boutique that week.

And I already had free shipping.

Except when I mentioned this to Bill, he was less than enthused. Actually, his words to me were something along the lines of "just because you have free shipping on Rue La La doesn't mean we should buy a mattress online."

I mean, i guess he had a point. I just really like a good deal, and somehow, free shipping on a MATTRESS made me feel like I would be beating the system somehow.

The Monday Fundays Are Still Alive!

We are here! I promise!!!

I gotta be honest...it's hard being the perfect wife, having a full time job, and keeping up a blog. Plus, I've been struggle city for awhile now with whether or not it even makes sense to have a blog anymore. I mean, I don't feel like we are particularly interesting or exciting. My life seemed much more "bloggable" (to me at least) when I was single, and I didn't have a care in the world.

But now I do. I want to protect the little family Bill and I have built the past year, and even if that little family only consists of us, plus Barbara, well, I still want to protect it and hold it close. But then there is that other part of me that wants to still blog, and share our funny little life with the world. And then there is this other part of me that feels like maybe our lives aren't that funny, or interesting, and who wants to read about it when it's not? I mean, we watch Dateline on Friday nights and 48 Hours Mystery on Saturday nights!

But, the past few weeks, I've gotten a few asks about blogging. And I've shared that I have a list of things I have been wanting to blog, but I haven't because I've let my fears of being a loser blogger take over. So, after some encouragement, for the one thousandth time, I am going to try again!

guess who's back, back again.  we'll see how long this lasts.

the time a boyfriend helped me move

Shortly after Bill and I met, I decided to move and because Bill was smitten with me (naturally), he offered up his services to help me move.

Now. I had never had a boyfriend to help me move before, so this was exciting. Up until this point, it had always been my dad, my brother and my brother's friends helping me move. They were already on the hook to help me move again this time, so having a boyfriend help was an added bonus.

There are several things to note about this particular move (and you may surmise what you will about how they may or may not have affected the outcome of this moving experience).

1. The weather report was calling for a huge ice storm that week.
2. Bill offered to let me use his dad's truck so I didn't have to rent a U-Haul (score for being thrifty!)
3. Because I had a boyfriend to help, I was under pressure to be on my best behavior.
4. My brother was involved.

Moving was scheduled for Saturday. I had taken Friday off work so I could finish packing and organizing - I was really overwhelmed with this move for some reason and at one point, my mom had called and asked if she and my dad needed to drive up from Charlotte to pack everything up because she was "sick of hearing me cry all the time about moving." Apparently, I had given off the impression that I would pack a box, then sit and cry (ok, so that may have been what actually happened in the weeks leading up to this move). So as you can imagine, I needed that day off work to finish what I had started. Well. That day, it snowed and iced. All.Damn.Day.

I woke up Saturday morning to an ice-capade. What a nightmare. I immediately called my mom (hello! mom in another city to the rescue!)  in hysterics that I was never going to get moved. She alerted my dad that I was already freaking out, and he in turn called my brother and told him to stop by Lowe's to get ice melt on his way to my house. The tree house I was living in had like 15 stairs, so with ice melt on them, there should be no issue getting me moved. If only we had known the ice melted stairs would be the least of our problems on this day. At this point, Lee was doing as he was told and brought some ice melt for my stairs. The friends start showing up, and the boys got to work. By this time, the ice had started melting so everything was wet. Soaking, sopping wet, including the back of Bill's dad's truck. Obviously I hadn't thought about a tarp or anything, and didn't want to ruin any of my blankets, so if anything got wet in the truck, well, that was just what was going to have to happen. (Until my mattress got muddy. Then I realized the err of my ways).

I think the pressure of having a boyfriend helping me move (i mean hello, a boyfriend helping you move is serious! It's like putting a ring on it!) was just too much for both my brother and me to handle. I had to play it cool so Bill would think that if I was this easy going and laid back about moving, then I must be that way about everything else in life and he should definitely lock it down quickly. And Lee had to play it cool because if he went crazy, Bill would judge me for having a crazy brother and would never see me again. And Lee had already been told by my mom not to screw this up for me. Haha.

So anyway, after the second trip in the truck, and a tree house still full of furniture to be moved, my brother decided to ask the most obvious question that I am sure he and all of his friends were wondering: "Meredith, why didn't you rent a UHaul? This is so stupid. It's going to take us 15 trips to get everything moved if we are only using this truck. I am renting you a UHaul." Except I didn't want a UHaul to be rented. I wanted to use Bill's dad's truck. Duh.

Lee had made up his mind my moving process was not going well, or quickly - and it wasn't -  and he was going to take charge. But I didn't want Lee to take charge! I needed to be in charge so Bill would see how great I was at being in charge and coordinating and organizing! So I did what anyone (ok maybe just any Robertson) would do. I flipped my %$#@. I screamed, I cried, and of course I called my mom.

And then I went and locked myself in my car. Nobody could be mean to my feelings if I was locked away in a car. According to Bill, I sat there heaving and crying and he didn't know what in the world was going on. So he went inside. Where he and all the boys stayed,  eating the pizza I had been SO KIND to arrange to be delivered as a thank you for helping me move. My brother apparently stood in the doorway talking crap about me and laughing about what a hysterical woman I was. Bill decided he needed to do something. So he brought me two pieces of pizza. I'm sure he thought I would at least say thank you, come get in the car and talk to me. But instead I rolled the window down - mind you tears are still streaming down my face - just enough for him to slide the pizza in and then I rolled it back up and off he went, back to the treehouse full of boys.

He says the sight he saw when he looked back at me is a sight he won't soon forget: me crying hysterically with a phone in one hand talking to my mom and a piece of pizza in the other.

I honestly don't know what is so memorable about that sight. Hasn't everyone freaked out and eaten pizza at the same time while their brother stood inside talking crap about his sister to her new boyfriend who had offered to help her move?