Trick or Treat!

It's Halloween, and I don't have anything orange to wear (my one go-to cute burnt orange sweater is about four sizes too big at this point), I forgot to buy candy (I can fix that on the way home from work, at least), and the pumpkins we carved last weekend got moldy and had to be thrown away. This is not like me! I do have an adorable spiderweb door-hanger on my front door, so I'm not a total grinch.

We had friends spend the weekend. The guys played LA Noire from start to finish, while we ladies spent more time (and money) at Michaels than we thought humanly possible, and scrapbooked the heck out of some stuff. Wedding stuff--they got married about a month before we did. And our scrapbooks? are gonna be AWESOME.

In kitten news, Renny really is the most adorable ball of fur ever. Ever! For a while, Steve was pointing out how cute Renny is about every ten minutes, and I kept having to stand up from my scrapbooking spot on the floor to peek over the back of the couch and see him. Renny and Chloe have fallen into a mostly-harmonic relationship; both of them are playful enough that it doesn't bother Chloe when she gets bopped in the nose (sometimes with claws), and it doesn't bother Renny to have a 65-pound dog chasing him. He plays with her wagging tail, and then they curl up near each other and fall asleep. Cuuuuuute!

Monet is another story. She's mostly annoyed by him, I think. Like, both cats were in the bedroom. Renny was minding his own business and playing under the bookshelf, and Monet happened to walk near enough to remember that she should be growling her weird melodic growl at him. She turned around and walked out, and her tail was just so tempting that Renny ran after her, batting at it. I really hope they settle into some kind of friendship. At least Monet is distracted enough by the kitten that she hasn't been sitting at the top of the stairs crying her lonely cry anymore!

Chat Renoir

After a month of marriage, Steve and I have expanded our family.  No, not a baby yet.  (Sorry, Grandma H, I know you're anxious for great-grandchildren.)  But a kitten!

The real motivation to get a kitten was to get a buddy for Monet.  Since Cymbeline moved out, Monet has been noticeably lonely; she cries more when we're downstairs, she's overly affectionate, and she runs from wherever she is to wherever we are (provided we're not downstairs with the scary dog) the moment we're no longer in the same room as she is.

We did some internet-research and took some advice from friends, and landed on a male kitten, since resident cats are supposed to get along better with opposite-gender new cats, and we thought a kitten would be less threatening to Monet and better able to adapt to living with new animals.

Enough chitter-chatter!  Meet our new little guy.  We call him Chat Renoir (it's a theme), or Renny for short.

He is so. stinkin'. cute!  He's about eight weeks old, they think.  The woman at the shelter suggested keeping him in an enclosed space (the bathroom) for about a week so Monet could get used to him through the door.  Their meeting (through the barred door of the cat carrier) went better than I'd expected, actually, with minimal hissing, so I'm hopeful that once they meet nose-to-nose, they'll be okay.

He's a feisty little thing, fast and playful.  Quick to purr, as in, the moment you walk into the room he starts rumbling away.  So far he hasn't been much of a cuddler, maybe because the moment anyone gets close to him, he thinks it's time to play with their toes or the hem of their pants or the cat toy they're dangling near him.

We also introduced him to Chloe, with the hopes that maybe he'll bridge the gap between Chloe and Monet.  Chloe was unbelievably good!  She sat on the couch, quietly wagging her tail, but didn't pounce or chase Renny.  She didn't even really flinch when he hissed and bopped her in the nose with his little kitten paw. 

And then they took a nap together.

And one of the cutest things ever?  When I asked Steve if he wanted to run a quick errand with me, he looked over at Renny, who was sleeping peacefully on the top of the couch, and said, "He's still sleeping and I don't want to wake him.  I think I'll stay here."  He's going to be such a good dad someday! 

But for now, welcome to our home, little kitten!

The first of many

Happy one-month-iversary, Steve!

Can you believe it's been a whole month already?  Sometimes it feels like it couldn't have been longer ago than last weekend that I was sitting in the Bride's Room, playing Bananagrams and waiting for things to start, already, so I could finally see you.  Like it was last Saturday we were dancing all night with our family and friends, laughing and smiling and being so ridiculously happy.

Can you believe it's only been a month?  The ridiculous happiness is still here, of course, but it seems like so much has happened between our wedding day and now.  We went to France!  We had a few more days in Chicago, a bonus vacation.  And we've been back to work for fooooreeeeeveeeeer.  It's been at least a few months since we had time off, right?  I changed my name with Social Security and the DMV, and I already have my new Social Security card and my new driver's license.  Government agencies don't work fast enough to have those things to you in just over a week, do they?  We've re-organized the house, decorated and stored and cleaned out things that hadn't been touched in a long time.

We can't possibly have done all that in just a month, right?

But the calendar says it's October 17, and the calendar doesn't lie.  It's been an awesome month, husband-of-mine.  And I can't wait for a lifetime more of them!

Gettin' Hitched

Four weeks ago today, Steve and I got married.  We are still two days away from our official one-month anniversary, so before that happens, I should write about it!

THE WEDDING.

If I thought I was going to be able to relax the week before the wedding, boy was I wrong!  There were marriage licenses to get, table accessories to make, place cards to print, programs to assemble.  There were pretzels to dip, wrap, tag, and tie.  Family to visit with, gifts to wrap, pastors to meet with, errands to run, goodie bags to prepare, and details to organize.  The week was full and chaotic and frustrating and exciting and fun.

Licenses and programs and pretzels, oh my!

 The weather started out gorgeous and warm on Sunday, and then slowly dropped into chilly temperatures (certain Californians--me-- might even classify them as cold) by Thursday.  The dress I had bought on Sunday was most decidedly a warm-weather dress, and had to be paired with thick tights, a sweater, and Mom’s kicky red knee-length trench for the outdoor rehearsal.

Rehearsing went smoothly, and was followed by a casual dinner at Portillo’s, during which Mom presented Steve with his dowry: a stuffed goat and two books about goats.  (This was in response to much joking by Steve at the beginning of our engagement about dowries and goats.)  It was very funny.

Rehearsing and dowry and dinner.

On Friday, about 20 friends and family joined us on an architecture boat tour down the Chicago River.  The wind was fierce and temperatures nippy, but the sun came out (although the air stayed cool) and it was an informative and enjoyable few hours (at least I thought so).  A small group of us visited The Bean in Millennium Park before lunch at Giordano’s Pizzeria.  A nice early-fall day in Chicago, if you ask me.

Architecture boat tour, the Bean, standing on a Picasso: a fall day in Chicago

Saturday dawned warm and sunny, the lone 70-degree, blue-skied day sandwiched between the chilly days and the rain, which would come on Sunday and persist through most of our honeymoon… which we weren’t in Chicago to endure, of course.

The bridesmaids, Mom, and I had hair appointments in the morning.  Mom, Jess and I got our make-up done, and then we were ready for our close-ups!  I had an emergency nail-fixing, we sipped champagne and had breakfasty snacks, and then headed home to finish getting ready.

Gettin' ready for our close-ups

The photographer arrived at about 12:30, and the day really took off from there.  Pictures inside, pictures outside.  Limo ride.  Then we were at White Pines and… waiting in the Bride’s Room.  To pass the time (about two hours of it), we played Bananagrams.  People stopped in to see us. 

Pictures, limo... Bananagrams?

The Decor

There was bad traffic, causing several people to be running late, including the family of one of the ring bearers.  He made it in time, and with the help of the other ring bearer’s mom, they got him dressed in his tux and ready to go!

The path from the building to the altar was loooooong.  Good thing I was in wedges instead of tottering on high heels!  Dad and I walked to an instrumental version of “Don’t Stop Believing”.  The ceremony went smoothly, with friends G and L doing readings (L did the Bible readings and G read an excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit) and cousin Katie singing Irving Berlin’s “Always”, which was Grandma and Grandpa’s wedding song, during the Unity Sand ceremony.  The pastor was a little heavy on the Jesus stuff for my liking, but no one tripped or got tongue-tied, we made it through our ever-long vows, and were married!

The Walk, The Ceremony, The Singer, Mr. & Mrs.

Steve and I walked back down the aisle as husband and wife to “Lucky” and the whole group got a picture taken.  Then it was cocktail hour time for the guests, and photo-taking time for me and Steve.

If the wedding went well, the reception was equally flawless.  Three excellent speeches were given, by Jessica, my dad, and Steve’s best man.  We cut the cake, dinner was served (and yummy!), and Steve and I visited with each table.  Our first dance, a semi-coordinated slow foxtrot to “When You Wish Upon a Star”, went as well as we could imagine.  Dad and I danced to “I Loved Her First” (during which our two three-year-old ring bearers played in and peeked out from under the tablecloth on the head table) and Steve and his mom to “Sunrise, Sunset”.  And then the party got started!

Cake cutting, three toasts, two cuties

Dance, dance, dance

I think I danced to EVERY song the DJ played.  Any time I sat down, someone was there calling me back up onto the dance floor.  Even my cousins, many of whom had proclaimed they would not be dancing, were out there boogying, thanks to Jess and cousin Phil.  Highlights were a group rendition of “Bye, Bye, Bye,” which I remembered more of than I’d thought I would, and took me right back to college; and Grandpa wheeling Grandma around the dance floor to “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” while she grinned and jazzed-handed with the best of ‘em.  If there ever was a moment I wished I’d had a videographer, it was Grandma and Grandpa’s dance.

And dance some more!

"Twist"-ing with Grandma and Grandpa

We had board games for the non-dancers (of which there was a small contingent), and I think everyone had a good time.  I hope they did! 

At the end of the night, Steve and I went out to find our car FILLED with balloons.  Filled.  I don’t even know how my cousins and aunts and uncles responsible got all the balloons in there.  Even the trunk was full!  We were provided with pins and popped what was in the car (we didn’t discover the trunk until after we’d given back our pins).  

What fun!

I don't have a picture handy of the balloons, but here, the Happy Couple!

On Sunday, Steve and I accidentally overslept the beginning of the brunch at Mom and Dad’s house, but we made it in time for some delicious food and visiting with much of both our family and Steve’s.  It was a low-key, relaxing end cap to the wedding week, even though by that point it was pouring rain outside.

And then Monday, off to FRANCE!

This is a post about food.

Specifically, all the food we ate in France.

First, let me back up to a bit more than a year ago, when Steve and I started Weight Watchers.  We made a lot of changes to our relationship with food.   The biggest of these changes were portion size (much smaller), frequency (way more often) and water intake (so much more).

We also did a really good job of kicking up the exercise, until about a month pre-wedding when, unfortunately, we let exercise slide in favor of Getting Things Done.


About a year later, Steve and I are a combined 80 pounds or so slimmer.  (Almost fifty of those are mine.)  And I have no intention of fitting back into my four-sizes-bigger clothes ever again!


Still, as soon as we decided to go to France for our honeymoon, I knew I wanted to try all the food in France.  All the wine, all the cheeses, all the pastries and breads, and all the fresh fruits and veggies from the outdoor markets.

Weight Watchers be darned! I thought.  I was going to enjoy my honeymoon in a country known for its rich foods, and whatever damage was done could be un-done once I was back to Real Life.  Here is my story of Food in France.



We started every morning (every morning) with pain au chocolat.  Sometimes two.  There was this delightful little patisserie down the block from our hotel in Nice, and in the mornings, the pains au chocolat were crispy and flaky on the outside and so, so soft on the inside.  The chocolate was creamy and they were still a little warm if we got there early enough.

Pain au chocolat.  Mmmmm.

There was a farmer's market set up every morning on the same street as the patisserie with every fresh fruit and vegetable you could imagine.  Beautiful!  I wish I'd taken a picture.  The bananas were so much prettier than those at the Monoprix grocery store.

I almost never eat dessert in restaurants.  By the time I'm finished with my meal (or the half of my meal I'm not taking home in a to-go box), there's no room for dessert.  But every restaurant or cafe in France has this list of really delectable sweets.  Crepes and tarts and cakes, oh my!

Our solution to this Dessert Problem was to split a meal and a dessert at nearly every cafe we ate at.

Our first meal in Nice was at a cafe called Bistrot l'Opera (I think).  Our waiter was a busy, friendly man who had visited California once to golf in Palm Springs.  He spoke English about as well as I speak French, but through a game of charades, some pointing, and use of the phrase book (us), we got on quite well.  Steve and I split a pizza on irregular, hand-made dough with quatre fromages and a chocolate-and-banana crepe.

Oh my goodness.  Yum!


I won't do a meal-by-meal run-down, but I also have to document the next evening's dinner, as it was our one true food splurge.  (If you don't count daily pains au chocolat as a splurge...)

My parents had heard of this restaurant in Villefranche, a seaside town about ten minutes by train from Nice, called La Mere Germaine.  We stopped in Villefranche after an afternoon in Eze Village and found our way to La Mere Germaine, only to find out it didn't open for dinner for another two hours.  We wandered around Villefranche, had gelato, and were amazed by how charming and historic France is.  Before we knew it, it was 7:00 and we could have dinner!

We were seated just feet from the water (which doesn't smell anything like beaches in California, which can be fishy) as the sun was setting.  We started with entrées of crab cakes, which were the freshest, most amazing crab cakes Steve had ever experienced, and were my FIRST crab cakes (Steve says I'm ruined for crab cakes forever).  We shared a bottle of rosé, which was the Wine of the Day.

 For our main dishes, I had fillet of cod with creamed zucchini cake and veggies, and Steve had veal fillet with ratatouille and some kind of cheesy veggie stick.  For dessert, Steve tried the cheese platter and I had the most amazing three creme brulees of my life: chocolate, vanilla, and coffee.

La Mére Germaine, you might just be my favorite restaurant in the world.


In Paris, we had our own apartment complete with a teeny-tiny closet kitchen, which meant hot plate (coffee!) and mini-fridge.

When we arrived, two pastries were waiting for us.

The refrigerator meant trips to the Monoprix for breakfast (pains au chocolat, of course, and fromage blanc sucré, which was the closest we could come to vanilla yogurt without buying something we could get back home) and dinner (baguette, various cheeses, salami, and wine) were possible.  We ate lunch out at sidewalk cafes, mostly.


We tried fromage de chévre (goat cheese), a juenes cantal (young cantal?), a gouda with cumin seeds, and a Tomme Noir des Pyrénées (not even sure what kind of cheese that was, but it was yummy!), along with a rosé that was more of an orange color called Roche Mazet Cinsault Grenache Pays D'Oc - Cuvée Spéciale, which was quite good, and another excellent red I unfortunately didn't write down the name of.

There was only one day that we stopped at a patisserie for a fresh-baked baguette, but oh boy, was it worth it!

In conclusion, we may not have eaten all the food in France, but we definitely ate, tasted, and tried everything we wanted to.  And with all the walking (102 stairs just to get into our apartment), we only gained 1.4 pounds each!