I observe that my last post was July 16th, and as today is merely the 14th this technically means it hasn’t been a whole entire month. I feel so much better about myself. Taking a month off to get married seems completely justifiable, I think. And now here we are, married and re-located and plugging away at our little married life and having, just, buckets of fun together. As my husband (!!!!) likes to repeat every so often: “Marriage is so great…Why isn’t everybody doing this?”
He’s a charmer, that one.
My husband’s (!!!!!) first day at his new job was exactly six days after our wedding, so when his new co-workers started finding this out, the favorite question became, “So, how long is/did/will the honeymoon last?”
The answer: INDEFINITELY. As we have yet to announce the end of it to ourselves, it appears to still be going on. Also, my wedding countdown app apparently became a marriage count-up app and it now informs us that we have been married 19 days, 19 hours, and 22 minutes as of this particular minute…so there’s really just no telling how long we can drag out the honeymoon thing. I’ll keep you posted on this.
Having grown up in Corpus Christi and loving that city with the whole section of my heart which appropriately belonged to city-love, it took me (hang on, I need to count…okay) roughly 14 years to make peace with living in Houston and convince myself that I did not utterly hate and, in fact, actually did not really mind living in Houston.
Not so with San Antonio. I’ve always liked visiting here, was excited to move here, and the longer I am here, the more I love it. Flat out love it. I never could bring myself to say I loved Houston, though there were certainly very many loveable peeps there. San Antonio and I have really hit it off. It’s so chill with itself. Houston always feels like it’s trying to “BE SOMETHING.” San Antonio just is. So, that’s def more my style, plus it has more trees, less humidity, cool little farmer’s market-y places, aaaaaand
H. E. Freakin’ B. All over the freakin’ place. I have joked that in Corpus Christi, you could drive any direction and find a Whataburger in under 10 minutes. In Houston, you could drive any direction and find a Starbucks in under 10. Well, in San Antonio…H-E-B.
This is not a complaint.
I am an H-E-B fangirl. Really. In fact, I needed to hit up Wal-Mart the other day for some thread and I passed TWO H-E-Bs TO GET THERE. I think this was a rookie mistake…the biggest H-E-B in Texas is also the closest to our little honeymooner nest and I think since I found zipties there the other day in a big ol’ manly tool aisle, there probably is some little girly crafty aisle where I might have bought my thread. I could also buy a flatscreen TV, a BBQ pit, a bean bag chair and get an eyebrow wax inside that same H-E-B, if I had a mind to do it. Next time I need to fix a button for my husband (!!!!) I will look for my thread there. H-E-B and I are besties, yo.
I-10 and I, not so much. It hates me. No, really. When I used to visit my friend here I would get lost ev-uh-ry single time. Fortunately for myself, I find I can navigate 1604 fairly well and all life’s essentials (church, H-E-B, two bookstores, and a Hobby Lobby) are easy peasy to get to from it and so I just don’t get on 10. My husband (!!!!!!) drives 10 for us. Although I did get on it the other day ALONE and I did not get lost or wreck the car or die so it was a good trip.
I am having such a good time being a housewife I can’t help thinking probably everyone is just dying to see my cute little homey things, because I personally may or may not be swooning over them from time to time. So, I will satisfy the curiosity I’m convinced you must have and show you…(drumrolll please)…The Garden. BEHOLD:
There is also a hanging flowerpot with cutesie little yelllow flowers AND a teenie little rosebush which I have not yet killed. In addition to these botanical wonders, I have major plans in development to turn this magnificent thing:
(which my husband [!!!!!] acquired for me) into a sort of hanging/wall garden thing which will surely rival those of ancient Babylon. Will post pictures when this is accomplished. I’m sure you can’t wait.
So, I made a pie. Two, actually, but the first one was important because, well, it was the first. The Inaugural Hanson Pie, as we called it. It was banana cream pie because Bountiful Baskets sent us five bananas last week and that is a lot of bananas. We got seven bananas this week, so…we’ll see what becomes of those. Anyway, here is the Inaugural Hanson Pie. Please ignore the dishes surrounding and notice instead the H carved by my husband (!!!!) in the near-center of the pie:
It tasted good too, by the way. Though, the crust was determined not to leave its comfort zone in the pie plate and clung to that familiar place of residence with nearly ever fiber of its stubborn being. We eventually convinced it we had intended it for bigger and better things and ATE ALL OF IT. Worry not, we had help. There’s a funny story about that – maybe sometime I will tell you how I accidentally invited a total stranger over. Then we can all laugh about that particular “Lucille Ball Moment” of mine, as my husband (!!!!) calls such and similar moments, which are rather more than infrequent, truth be told.