When I got hungry, I left for home, listening to an audiobook on writing as I went, and at home I ate toasted pita bread and hummus while continuing to read.

After lunch, more reading, in my own backyard this time, until the sun became slightly too hot to be out without sunscreen this early in the season. Inside, I finished the book, watched Oprah, fed the cats, and am now thinking about dinner, which will likely involve our new favorite way to eat hamburgers (coffee-spice rub + bacon + BBQ sauce = yum).

Finals start tomorrow, and then I’ve got almost a week of craziness left, a hectic frenzy of tests and in-class essays and portfolios and final grading. And then, it’s done. I’ve got a stack of library books waiting, and I know at least two very good reading spots…

I wish I had had a real camera with me, but camera-phone pictures will have to suffice.

This place is so relaxing--you can smell fresh flowers and walk barefoot on the soft grass. Lovely.

As I read, I could glance over at the little pond, where at one point I watched some people feed fat, colorful koi.

Wisteria at the Summer Palace, Beijing

I usually take the weekend off from blogging, but today I’m in such a good mood I thought I’d better write now before things change.

Last week was absolutely brutal. Jesse and I were running up on the deadline to finish processing my niece’s senior pictures, but we weren’t concerned, as we had no other plans all week. Then, we found the leak. That chewed up a huge chunk of time and pushed the image processing late each night. Tuesday, we were up until 11:30 p.m. Wednesday, 12:30 (the day had started at 5:30 a.m.). Thursday, I didn’t get to bed until around 1:30 a.m. and had to get up four hours later.

Friday, I taught three classes, answered about three hundred essay-related questions (can you tell their deadline is approaching?), and then babysat a three-year-old and an eight-year-old on campus for three hours.

After that, Jesse and I went to McDonald’s for cheap food. Since I had successfully lived through the day and kept all children in my care alive and whole on only four hours of sleep, I rewarded myself with a $1 soft-serve cone.

Then, I went home and fell fast asleep during Wheel of Fortune. I was in bed by 8:30 and didn’t get out of bed for another twelve hours.

Aahhhh.

The day is overcast and cold, but we’re getting things done. Jesse mowed the grass. I’m doing laundry. I updated our budget and the checkbook register and realized that we have been able to absorb all the car-related costs without touching our savings or emergency fund. I guess the “spending ban” we put in place at the beginning of the year is paying off–we may not contribute to savings this month, but our output is under our income at least enough to handle some unexpected expenses.

Also, the wisteria is in bloom; the trees are weeping purple. I love wisteria, its color, its little flowers, how you never really know it’s there until one day everything explodes lavender. We have a wisteria plant that Brandon brought us years ago, and I noticed that it’s made it almost all the way up the ugly tree in our backyard and is blooming for the first time this year. It makes me smile.

Wisteria also makes me think of China. I went with Brandon and Kara almost three years ago. In Beijing, we visited the Summer Palace, which sits near a lake and whose name literally translates as “Gardens of Nurtured Harmony,” and the wisteria was in bloom. We walked through one of the loveliest places–looking at the lake, the palace architecture, the bold colors, the marble “boat.” I remember it being hazy that day (really, every day we were in Beijing), and I remember being tired. But mostly I remember the wisteria, the gorgeous dripping purple blossoms. The thrill of being somewhere foreign, and the pleasant shock of seeing something familiar.

Last weekend, Jesse and I finally made it to the State Fair. We’ve been wanting to go for a while, but it hasn’t worked out. Well, this year we were determined. So determined that we drove two hours north-ish and then spent an entire hour in the car, stuck in traffic. Literally, it took us an hour to get off the interstate and into the fair parking lot.

Okay, so there were a few more people there than we expected. By the time we actually got to the fairgrounds, we were starving (we thought we’d timed it so we’d arrive around lunchtime…not accounting for the extra hour). We beelined it to the food.

The food. If you’ve never been to the fair, I suppose the only thing you need to know about it is: there’s a lot of food. And it’s all fried. Well, just about. After lunch, we made our first endeavor into the world of fried fair food: deep-fried Ho Hos for me and a deep-friend Milky Way for Jesse.

Then we explored. We watched a bread-baking demonstration led by a hilarious French chef. We watched a blacksmith doing his thing (with a Bluetooth headset in his ear, which I found amusing). We listened to some music.

And then we found the vegetables and the animals. I decided I wanted a pet cow (and someone to take care of said pet cow for me). We oohed and aahed over giant pumpkins, sweet potatoes, and watermelons. We listened to adorable little chicks chirping. We watched kids showing their sheep. Some of the children were so little, the sheep would knock them over, which I also found amusing.

As the sun set, we ventured back near the food stalls for some more artery-clogging goodness. I went for a roasted ear of corn, which didn’t seem all that unhealthy until I watched them dip it in a giant vat of what I can only assume was a butter-like substance (and probably high-fructose corn syrup). I must admit, it was worth it. Buttery, sweet, crunchy, hot, juicy. YUM. And the fact that it was, at one point anyway, a vegetable made it taste even better (seeing as how it was probably the first veggie I had that day). Jesse went for the deep-fried Oreos, which were quite good as well.

Before we left, we wandered through the bunny exhibit and gawked at a fifteen-pound rabbit. He reminded me of Oliver. If Oliver were a fifteen-pound bunny.

It was dark when we left, the air cold and so very fall-like. We took our tired bods home, full of fried goodies, and the next day ate lots of vegetables to pay penance for our indulgences at the fair. That ear of corn? So worth it.

One of my favorite things about living in North Carolina—and what I look forward to all year, every year—is when the Shaws boil peanuts. (Here’s last year’s event.) Sunday, Brandon and Kara had a boiled peanut party, and it was perfect.

During the day, it had been sunny and hot, but as the sun set, the evening grew cooler. Not cold, just cool, a perfect amount of fall crispness to the air without it being uncomfortable. We powered through bowls of boiled peanuts, drank sodas, talked, laughed, and then topped it all off with some homemade chocolate pies someone had brought.

For you to truly understand the glory of these pies, I must tell you they were real chocolate pies, made from an old family recipe. No pudding involved, but actual melted chocolate. They were rich but not heavy, sweet, creamy—heaven. I had two slices.

Jesse makes a silly face while drinking "Throw-Back" Mt. Dew

Yum! Boiled peanuts! (The funky star on my hand was from the "Employee Appreciation" meal we'd had earlier in the day.)

When it got dark, Brandon lit a fire in their fire pit, and we roasted marshmallows. (You can’t be concerned about health at a boiled peanut party. It’s not allowed.) Eventually, the partygoers all left, and Jesse and Brandon played video games and Kara and I talked some more. The Shaws were our first real friends in North Carolina, and I can’t imagine the state without them.

Jesse likes marshmallows that are slowly browned. I like them burnt.

The past couple Fridays, we’ve been doing what we have never been consistent at: Date Night. Yes, we’ve been married for more than six years now and we’ve been hopelessly bad at Date Night. In fact, we gave it a good try a couple years ago but the whole experiment ended badly and I’m pretty sure caused more arguments than it prevented.

But, Jesse has taken Date Night as his own little project, and we’ve done two weeks in a row. (It may not seem significant to you, but trust me here. It is!)

Our “first date” (haha) two weeks ago had us sharing a big plate of teriyaki chicken at a local hole-in-the-wall hibachi place that we love. Then, Jesse surprised me by taking me ice skating. We haven’t been ice skating since we lived in Maitland. Our apartment there was about three minutes away from a rink, but I think we skated there a grand total of twice in the year we lived there. The last time, we went with our friend Scott, and I think that wasn’t too long before we moved.

This time, it was just the two of us. We got our rented skates on and moved onto the ice—us and a rink-full of teens and pre-teens. It was pretty hilarious. We weren’t all that bad, for old people, though I realized fairly quickly that I didn’t know how to stop or slow down, so if I was about to hit someone the only thing I could do was speed up and pass the person. Fortunately, I didn’t run over anyone. Also, neither of us fell, even once! I was quite proud of myself.

This past Friday, Jesse took me to Carrabba’s, where I ate far too much, and as we drove home we kissed at every red light. Then, we went to Wal-Mart for a game he’d heard about from someone at church. We each had $3 and fifteen minutes to split up and buy something that made us think about the other person.

Okay, I didn’t think it would be that hard to find something for $3 at Wal-Mart, but it is! I immediately headed for the toy section and found the perfect item: a Battle Hamster. (If you know my husband, you get it. If not, you’re probably making a strange face at me right now.) But it was $9! What? So, I kept moving. And then I found the dollar toy section, where I picked up an orange recorder, a green sticky hand you throw at stuff, and a disc shooter.

We met back up with our purchases. Jesse had found me a great purple and black scarf. I gave him the toys, and he laughed. Then, I took him back to the toy section to show him the Battle Hamsters, and he laughed more. After that, we wandered around a bit, bought a puzzle with a picture of a moose on it, and then tried to get one another toys out of those claw machines at the front. We failed. But, we did buy ourselves a bouncy ball and play with it out in the parking lot, right under the security cameras. I was sure someone would come out and stop us, but no one did. So, we bought a Dr. Pepper out of the vending machines and drank it and then went home.

So far, Date Night = Success!

Saturday was a workday: We slept in a little and then I got to work tidying the house while Jesse jumped into a freelance project. My goodness, we sure can mess up a house in a single week. I hadn’t realized how messy we were, since I used to have plenty of time to pick up daily. Saturday I made my way through the house, picking up discarded shoes and socks, stacking mail left on the dining room table, folding throw blankets, and chasing random slips of paper and half-done to-do lists.

That afternoon was a catch-up small group. Our meeting Monday was rained out (so many roads were flooded, our SG leaders decided to play it safe and reschedule—so we drove over to the Paschals’ place and had a Flood Party, complete with homemade cookies and whole milk and lots of productive conversation). So Saturday afternoon we met at Steve and Laura’s place and talked about money and then ate enchiladas and tacos, and the boys played corn hole (worst game name, ever) and watched a football game, and the girls fell into traditional gender roles and gabbed while eating. What do you know about that?

After small group, we came home and kept on working. Jesse kept on his project, and I set about actually cleaning the house. As I vacuumed and mopped and scrubbed, I found it surprisingly nice to be cleaning at night. I felt productive, but I also didn’t have to look at a beautiful sunny Saturday morning outside while I worked inside. It was dark outside, and I was focused on my tasks, and I didn’t feel like I was missing anything.

Once the house smelled properly like cleaning products, I tackled a stack of papers that needed to be graded. Jesse and I went to bed late, tired but feeling good about the work we’d done.

Sunday was for church and a wedding in Southport—a cute little town surrounded by water, with a little downtown bustling with adorable shops for tourists.

We spent Monday morning doing a little more work, and then we went to lunch at South College Deli, where we ate enormous sandwiches (a Reuben for him and a BLT for me) with potato salad and homemade chips. We stuffed ourselves silly and were glad we’d skipped breakfast. Then, we went home and started working on a puzzle. When we got stuck, we put it away and played music—Jesse on the piano and me on the flute. We laughed at all our mistakes and found at least one song we were both pretty good at. Then, it was time for dinner and another small group (ha!).

Now I’ve got Tuesday to get caught-ahead and to finish the last little batch of grading. October is going to be a busy month, and I’ve got to get ahead of it before I get swamped. (And I’m hoping I’ll have enough time left over to address the one room I didn’t really touch this weekend: my office. If I had a dollar for every piece of paper on the floor, I could probably retire early.)

It’s the first day of fall today, or so I’m told. The person who decided when the seasons change did not, obviously, live in the South. To think, it’s nearly October, and we’ve yet to have a single day in the 70s (even the high 70s–I’ll take anything under the 80s right now. I’m over it). Ah, but far be it from me to complain. For it was far, far worse about a month ago. In fact, I was even able to open the windows this morning for a brief period of time. I can’t wait for the days when I get to leave them open. The cats go crazy and sniff at the screens and chatter at the birds and squirrels.

In the spirit of a new season, I brought my students Halloween candy today. Remarkable how a discussion about the syllabus goes so much better when there’s refined sugar involved!

And then I came home and read The Woman Warrior in the bathtub (haven’t read that book since college) and now I’m listening to 70s music and thinking about getting a snack before sending some emails. (I can do these things because A. I cooked enough this weekend that I won’t have to cook at all this week, and B. I finished all prep work for this week’s classes last week and I have next week planned through Wednesday. Woohoo!)

I hope your Wednesday is going well. I hope your fall is going well. If you live someplace cold, enjoy the crisp weather for me. (And I’ll be thinking of you in January!)

Doesn't she look nice in our purple kitchen?

I have my cat back. She’s got a urinary tract infection, which means I get to shove a pill down her throat twice a day. She loves that. But, it’s just so good to have her home. I just talk to her in silly voices and kiss her fluffy neck and tell her how much we missed her. Oliver hisses at her because she smells like the vet’s office. Jesse throws her little stuffed gray mouse. Welcome home.

Daisies from the party

Last night was our pod dinner party, summer edition. I spent all day preparing for it, cleaning the house, shopping for the food, cooking. The menu:

Appetizers: caprese salad (mozzarella with tomatoes and basil from our garden), crusty bread with roasted garlic, and yellow teardrop tomatoes from our garden.

Main: Chicken with roasted garlic cream sauce, rosemary red-skinned potatoes, green beans with lemon and almonds.

Dessert: chocolate torte, recipe compliments of my wonderful mother-in-law.

Jesse came home early from work to help me move some heavy things out of the dining room and to return two of the dining room chairs he’d borrowed for something in his office. On the way home, I had him pick up a few things from the store I’d forgotten. He saved the day! Then, he spent the evening holed up in his office while us ladies gabbed nonstop and laughed uproariously, sipping green tea Ginger Ale out of champagne flutes.

I gave the girls an optional “assignment” if they wanted to further develop their leadership skills on top of what we’re doing in our pod meetings. They teased me unremittingly for how teacher-ish it was of me, and I grinned. Then I forgot to tell them my good news—I’ve been given three Intro to Lit classes at UNCW for the fall!

Sometime after 9:00, the girls left and I washed the dishes and Jesse ventured out of the office for the slice of torte I’d saved him. He gave me a sweet card congratulating me on my new job. After the china was put up and the serving platters dried, I ran myself a bubble bath and started Anna Karenina and felt very very happy.

Appenzeller cheese tartlet. YUM.

On Sunday, I turned twenty-seven. Jesse calls twenty-seven “the year of significance” because seems like in movies something big always happens to the main character in his or her twenty-seventh year.

Friday night, Jesse and I ate stir fry and then walked around the outdoor mall where all the rich people shop. I had birthday money and Williams and Sonoma was having a big sale on Le Creuset. I walked away with a giant blue pot, the most gorgeous Dutch oven I’ve ever seen. Saturday evening, I spent nearly three hours in the kitchen, cooking a Julia Child chicken recipe with a mushroom cream sauce in my Le Creuset, roasting Brussels sprouts, and making Appenzeller tartlets.

“Tartlets” has become a new favorite word around here. First of all, because the word is just so fun to say out loud (go on, try it!). It sounds even better when said three times in a row. I don’t know why. And second of all, because they were really good. They’re basically little baby quiches, with a homemade crust (lard and butter!), sweet cooked onions, prosciutto, and the tangy Appenzeller, which I’d gotten at Harris Teeter for super cheap (the other blocks were going for $8 and $9, and I got this one for $2, but it had to be used right then).

Dinner was glorious. Who knew enamel-coated cast iron could be so exciting?

Sunday was our last Congo team meeting before the trip. More on that later. The afternoon was shopping for Congo odds and ends—bug spray, hand wipes, medicines of all varieties.

Then, we had a birthday dinner at India Mahal with some folks from small group. The girls sat at one end of the table, the boys at the other, and us gals talked about a trip to Spain, and I have no idea what the boys talked about, and we ate plates of curries and stacks of naan and paratha and everything else, and it was just so pleasant to be surrounded by friends, talking about travel, the sun still hanging on as we paid and walked a few doors down to the little Mexican grocery. A few of us went back to the Paschals’ place and watched a movie. Brandon and Kara brought me gummy bears and chocolate.

I don’t know how significant the year will be yet, but it sure has started out fun.