Far Better Things

Fly in the Ointment?

2009-06-18T12:28:00.001-04:00

Batting away criticism with a wave of his healing hand, the President squashed complaints from miscreant pests that he "flew off the handle" and harmed one of God's lovely li'l critters.

In prepared remarks, delivered with the aid of TOTUS, the president commented that he respects insects, welcomes their input in matters of pesticide control, standing-water breeding grounds, and refuse centers, such as New Jersey.

He pointedly noted, however, that he will ignore them and run roughshod over them like tanks over protesters in Tianenman Square, like the Soviets in the Velvet Rebellion, like Himself over the Constitution...

Billions of tiny little insect wings beat a raucous applause, even as B-52's poured DEET by the hectare over the quickly dying audience.

2008 and before... This was us.

2009-01-16T14:36:00.006-05:00

Our friend (and non-official official fambly member) Gabe was kind enough to take some lovely photos of our family for Christmas before he went gallivanting out to California away from us in December. I haven't had a chance to put these up before now, but here we are, in December, 2008.

Click on any of the photos above to see our new/old family album, which includes many of our never-before-published pictures. Can you believe it - we've been married over three years, and it has taken me *this* long to corral these!

Yes, the cobbler's children without shoes and all that. I know...

But here's the biggie: I uploaded our wedding photos today too!

Also for some fun and random, click on in for our 2008 version of Sauer Vignettes!

If I were the Unquestionably Grand Inarguably Divine Office of the President-Elect (UGIDOOTPE)…

2008-12-18T15:44:00.004-05:00

I would appoint only members of the opposition (who are also members of the Senate, which coincidentally is led by a majority of my own party but not sufficient a majority to have unfettered reign) to my cabinet and the various offices and heads of departments of my administration.

Those appointed would be representing states that have recently altered their primary color alignment to match that commonly associated with my own party. The governors of those states would also quite conveniently be members of my party.

This would all but assure loyal replacements in the Senate in states where such vacancies are filled by gubernatorial appointment, and take advantage of prevailing popular opinion in states where the seats are filled by special election.

I would then, of course, fire all my cabinet and department heads.

Audacious enough for ya?

Rumored Updates

2008-12-17T14:24:00.004-05:00

I heard a rumor recently that my husband would like to begin blogging more often. In honor of said rumored declaration, I have revamped our blog so that is again *our* blog.

In the event of any actual posts, I will, of course, notify readers of my blog that these posts are present. If they do not surface and the rumor is merely a rumor, do enjoy the new look as you're stopping by in hope.

Why I Shop At Wal-Mart

2008-12-08T17:41:00.002-05:00

Unsettling though it was, I had to come to the conclusion fairly early in my professional endeavors that I am no mathematician. Fortunately, the law rarely requires me to calculate numbers: computers handle our billing, legal assistants figure out interest on judgments and filing fees, and the courts, well bless them all, they are chiefly responsible for gracing the world with formulas. The judges can't do the math either, so they make it easier on the rest of us by establishing open-ended solutions.

Speaking with people who are more adept at the numerical arts usually leaves nodding my head and agreeing with everything they say, so as not to appear more intellectually diminutive than I am. This, of course, is much better than my former tactic of one-upmanship that invariably resulted in my weighing in with something more than commonly unintelligible, like "BUT, if you phanubulate the incanculcatory formule-formulumam... summation, the divisor invariably quotates to the y-axis. So it's really all relative."

Mildly put, I'm dumb as a rock. I am, however, more than capable of minding, say, money.

I'm a Scrooge.

Face it: it's much easier to do the math when you have all "+" with no"-" thrown in to complicate matters. This, unfortunately, makes me no great thrill to shop with, to which my lovely wife can attest. I can indicate "no" in fourteen variants of the English language, not including facial contortions, posturing, and low-guttural expressions usually associated with gastronomically distressed porcine.

As we concluding our Christmas shopping (Okay, long aside here. Yes, I intentionally threw in the word, "conclude" since it's the case, and I'd like to laud Kelly for her efforts in getting us here, that is, a Conclusory Stage of The Game. This Conclusory Stage is noteworthy since it's... well, not July), we found ourselves in Wal-Mart last night, picking up a few essentials for the upcoming Jelly-Dip Bake-a-thon and Yogurt Fry. Being in need of a tablespoon, Kel found a set of four plastic spoons, one of which featured a handle with no bowl, it having been broken cleanly off. Knowing my Scroogesquian ways, she decided that we should ask for a discount on the set as we perceived it unlikely that another consumer would purchase them. (Upon reflection, I may have overestimated the perspicacity of North Charleston's populace: More than one person I've witnessed thus far would likely have assumed the broken handle to be a Gourmet Spoon-Swabbing Paddle and found it a bargain).

After having scanned our other merchandise, I asked our clerk whether they would be willing to provide a discount for the broken item, priced at $1.97. The exchange, roughly remembered, went as follows:

PETE: "We found this set of spoons already broken on the rack. Could we get them at a discount?"
CLERK: 'I need to ask my manager.'

After unsuccessfully attempting to call her manager, who was kneeling on the floor not eight feet away, "Martina, Martina, Martina, Martina, Martina," etc. ("Martina" likely thought there was a vaguely annoying repetitive anomaly with the HVAC unit), she finally persuaded a young, upwardly mobile manager-in-training to stop. For our purposes, we shall call him, "Bubba." Not once during the incident did Bubba look at us, despite standing approximately 1.5 feet away. It must have been one of those ten habits of highly successful managers.

CLERK: 'These people claim they found these broken on the rack.'
BUBBA: "Did you ask them whether they found one that wasn't broken?"
CLERK: 'No.'

Sensing a disturbance in the Force, I interjected, "I don't care that it's broken, I want to know if you'll sell it to me for a discount."

The Force began to quiver with the untenable burden that is Communication in the Modern World. In a tone of voice generally reserved for congregants at a wake, Bubba responded, "Uh... uh... tell them... we'll give them 10% off."
PETE: 'No thank you.'
CLERK: "How much is that?"
BUBBA: 'You don't know?'
CLERK: "You KNOW I'm not any good at math!"
PETE: 'No thank you!'
BUBBA: "Then WHY are you working as a cashier?!?"
CLERK: 'Don't you start on me now! I dunno what it is!'
PETE: "No thank you?"

At this heart-pounding stage of the negotiations, I'm delighted to say that cooler heads prevailed. Bubba, being the intelligent young manager that he is, emitted a snort of contempt that likely resulted in irretrievable damage to his sinuses. While annoyed at having had to sit through their spat, I was glad that he was going to put this ignoramus of a cashier in her place.

Except he didn't.

Instead he pulled out his ubercool, "For-managers-only-iPhone" activated the calculator, and, after what seemed like a painfully long amount of time said, "It's uh... forty-cents."

"No thank you."

Postscript. As my friend Gabe pointed out later, I should have just stopped their exchange much earlier by offering, "Five dollars. Ten percent of $1.97 is five dollars. I'll take the change in cash, please."

hee hee

2008-01-25T07:41:00.000-05:00

"A man in love is incomplete until he has married. Then he's finished."

~Zsa Zsa Gabor

Pass the mint jelly

2008-01-24T02:37:00.000-05:00

In the throws of taking the California bar exam for the second time (and yes, I mean "throws" as if to say "In frustration Pete throws his MBE/essay/PT book or laptop or neighbor's cat across the room with tremendous force.") I have decided that I must find another hobby. When one says one desires the life of an academic one must take into consideration professional certification exams and the nightmare that is preparing for them. Otherwise one is a muttonhead.

I am a muttonhead.

Truncated holidays, little to no personal time with wife and daughter, littler time to commune with one's pillow, ballooning churlish figure, being the only individual in recorded history personally boycotted by representatives of the United Farm Workers Union standing in solidarity with their coffee bean-picking brethren whose labor loads have increased tenfold since I started studying again--these are just some of the factors that have caused me to consider afresh my roster of recreational activities. And while I find the personal letters of admiration and support from the presidents of Starbucks, Dunkin' Donuts, Folgers, Maxwell House, PepsiCo, and some slave driving coffee plantation owner named Jorge amusing, I truly doubt this Bar exam process is worth (a) the suffering I put my family through; (b) the frustration expended every other day by my wildly varying state of emotional stability; (c) the money spent in caffeine, travel, caffeine, fees, caffeine, study materials, and caffeine; and (d) the energy necessary to bellow orders at the picketers to stop bashing my car with their signs. Dudes, it's just bean juice!

Lucky for me I'm a muttonhead. Otherwise I might experience some disapprobation over this situation. Fortuitously I am the possessor of an indefatigable spirit of German élan; ergo I’m a muttonhead that wants spread his penguin-like wings and ... flop? Eat raw seafood! Er… swim in arctic waters…?

Perhaps the analogy needs some massaging. Unfortunately, nature and genetics have robbed me of this opportunity altogether and I must now pass through life as a hunky (read chunky), god-like (read Bacchus), corporate caffeine captivated cretin.

Does whacking picketers constitute a hobby?

/s Muttonhead

N.B. The next time you see Kel, give her a hug. It's pretty hard on her to care for the baby AND Piper during this time....

Love Languages

2008-01-12T12:34:00.000-05:00

I have not quite figured out why it is permissible within my household to form a posse and gang up on me but when such possefication is directed at Kel, she curls up in a ball and squeaks, "Don't hurt Piper's mommy!!!" Cute, but irritating in the sense that all efforts to tickle and/or otherwise benignly institute assaults on her person are effectively estopped by my laughing.

Of course, being an American of German extraction, I know that not all disputes are effectively resolved through physical means. Negotiation is also useful. So please, gentle reader, offer me advice on how to respond when, in a moment of conciliatory gentility, I attempted to talk through our differences rather than resort to said physical resolution and was met with, "NO HABLO SPRECHEN ZIE FRANÇOIS!"

Leaves me wondering who this self-contained U.N. chap named François is and what he's doing tickling my wife....

Drawn and (not quite) Quartered

2007-11-28T09:58:00.000-05:00

Today I announce the greatest financial achievement of my already-too-prolonged existence.

I got money from the government.

I’m not talking about welfare, nor am I referring to the income tax refund all schlepps and schmucks are entitled to. Nosirree. I’m talking about genuine, bona fide, “We OWE you money, dread lord Sauer. Not only that, we’re paying interest on what we owe.”

Read literally, “We are your financial slave, do unto us as seemest just to thee!”

To the tune of $.23.

Now I realize this amount is not quite a quarter of a dollar. But this $.23 represents my financial prowess, scilicet, control over the Commonwealth of Virginia’s Department of Taxation.

On behalf of beleaguered and overtaxed citizens everywhere, I invite you to relish this moment with me. I also invite you to take advantage of my beneficence and lower-than-usurious interest rates on all personal and business loans.

Sign up today and get a monogrammed ice cube.

How to Get Pete to Eat Anything

2007-06-25T16:19:00.001-04:00

'Nuff said...

Mocha Clean

2007-06-18T09:23:00.000-04:00

On Saturday night, we painted our bathroom. After the Attack of the Soot-Belching Fireplace, we had waited and waited for our house to get repainted while the painter was trying to figure out how to adopt a child from Russia. Our landlords had told us that if we let him paint the whole house white, we could paint the bathroom any color we wanted.

So, almost two years later, we finally got around to covering the soot-stained, dingy white that has been clashing with the cream on our tub, toilet, and sink since we moved in. We went with a mocha, and it is finished. Before Weebix gets here. And before I ran out of energy and time.

What do you think?

Productive

2007-06-11T10:21:00.001-04:00

On Saturday, Pete and Kate and I cleaned. Or rather, dejunked.

It wasn't a very thorough job, because I got way tired by about 1pm. I haven't been so tired in years. Not since I was really sick.

But we organized one dresser, several boxes, one and a half closets, the refrigerator, and the underside of our bed. I boxed up the maternity clothes that don't fit anymore (I'm down to just a few outfits now, with no motivation to go buy any more maternity clothes--I can see the end, when I'll be wearing jeans again!), and cleaned out a whole box of the clothes I hid away when I got pregnant.

I hope it doesn't bug me too much over the next couple of months that we left it somewhat unfinished...

Snapshot

2007-06-07T12:20:00.001-04:00

I was surfing through one of my weddings today and ran across a rare snapshot that occurred during a brief break in the wedding schedule. Wow, I have gained a lot of weight, but hey, I guess it goes with being pregnant... :-P

I forget how fun it can be to just have random shots of each other. Sometimes I have to get out of this whole photographer mode and just have fun!

A Pet Peeve

2007-06-06T09:30:00.000-04:00

No, that's a misnomer.

It's not a pet, people, it's a monster. Its tentacles have oozed into every level of our culture, from advertising to news articles to blogs to personal emails to published "works" of literature.

I refuse to accept it.

Tell me, do YOU know the difference between "it's" and "its"?

Pete calls me a grammar Nazi. You can call me a grammar freak. I don't care.

The technical term for "it's" is contraction. It is two words joined together by an apostrophe: "It" and "is." (Raise your hand if you know what an apostrophe is.)

You use "it-apostrophe-s" (it's) when you want to say, "It is cold outside." "It is your turn to do the dishes." "It is an abomination that so many people get away with using the contraction it's as a possessive pronoun." (Each "it is" may be replaced with "it-apostrophe-s.")

It's awful!

But this brings me to the second part of my rant.

The technical term for "its" is possessive pronoun. Notice the very OBVIOUS lack of apostrophe.

You use "its" when describing something that belongs to or with something. "Its paws were white." "The church has missed its calling." "Proper grammar has released its hold on our American society."

I may not be able to change the world, but this is ONE thing I should very much like to see corrected.

*rides off into the sunset, muttering wildly...*

Oh, oh, pick meme!

2007-05-29T23:21:00.001-04:00

Da da da dum dum da da du--GAAAHHHH!!??!! Wha-!?! Who-!?! Where!?! Can a guy not loll about in blissful ignorance without being mercilessly memed? Thanks to Kelly, Gabe, and JoMoe, my days of mendacious bandying about whilst at least looking like I knew what I was doing are over. For lo, I am tagged, and I wax silly, alack, alas, and AFLAC...

At several recent gatherings with friends or family, and a few photo shoots come to think of it, misguided souls have pounced on me with no introduction whatsoever and started out a conversation with, "Say something funny!" Apparently, the disconnected (and disconcerting) stringing together of puns and snarky snippets is amusing and makes comic fodder for certain assemblages. Granted, so is tossing a cat in a blender, but from my perspective this sort of demand is the equivalent to waltzing into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and demanding that the president invade Canada. Why? Because it's amusing, of course!

On to the meat of the meme. I am supposed to assert seven random facts about myself and conclude my post by attempting to guilt-trip or blackmail seven other unfortunates into spilling their own guts with seven more facts about themselves (or else the seven curses of the seven Belching Zambian Whooping Yaks will descend upon your household to the seventh sign of the seventh sun of the seven keepers of the seven Gates of Panthuzaleh!). The presumption, I believe, is that you pass this around until ultimately all the unsolved murders, robberies, and halitosis plagues are admitted to at which point the Feds will pounce. Mind the black helicopters, folks, and watch your heads: This can only end in tears. At any rate, three hits does not mean that I'm about to list 21 embarrassingly revealing facts and 21 illustrious acquaintances. While there isn't enough bandwidth to manage my catalogue of idiosyncrasies, I doubt I KNOW that many people.

Fraud in the Factoid: The People vs. Pete (Round One) - I am not funny. I have on more than one occasion been completely stunned by the nonsense that comes out of my mouth (I'm a rather avid and unfortunate spouter of Spoonerisms, so I'm prone to dyslexic burblings that make absolutely no sense whatsoever). Due to the fact that I have opened by pie hole at the critical moment in the past, however, people assume that what escapes is necessarily funny and they commence laughing. I am grateful when that happens but really people--listen to what I say before you laugh--it's most likely not that funny. Gabe-the-patient-former-flat-mate will confirm this for you. Most of the time, he's kind enough to wait for the laughter die down before whispering, and I quote, "What in the name of all that is quasi-toothsome did you just utter?"

Fraud in the Factoid: The Insurance Company vs. Pete's Dad (Round Two) - I'm the only person I know who has been to the hospital twice in the same day for the same exact thing. For those of you who wonder, no, I did not have twins.

In other medical news, I have had stitches 12 times in 11 places on my personage on 7 different occasions with no resulting infections. I've been the ER more times than I remember thanks to a weird food allergy, and I've only broken one bone and THAT only occurred because I kicked a wall in anger after losing a terribly played game of basketball. It's the last time I remember physically perpetrating an act of violence against a wall. Ceilings beware...

Fraud in the Factoid: "Give 'em the Lazy eye" (Round three) - I have
iatrogenic oculosympathetic palsy. Knock yourselves out on that one.
To every girl who ever thought I was leering, every guy who thought I was about to pass out, and all of you who put up with me, this should at least explain the weird looks you got from me. I blame society for the rest. At least that's what they told me at the Happydale Home for the Turgidly Inane...

Is this sounding egocentric yet? It's disturbing me how frequently the term "I" appears. There's no "I" in "team," but there is a "crab hem wren" in "bench warmer."

Fraud in the Factoid: A generous tip (Round four) - Not that anybody out there didn't know this already, but I love fencing. Fencing is absolutely the coolest sport in the world. In what other sporting event can a guy don a pair of knickers and be taken seriously? All those who raised their hands for "Golf" may go soak their heads. In golf, you beat your opponent by whacking a little ball into a little cup. In fencing, you beat your opponent by whacking him repeatedly until he yells, "Uncle!" at which point you whack him again for good measure.

Fraud in the Factoid: All things bright and beautiful (Round Five) - I have had at least five fish named in my honor by my very favorite little sister, Mary Jo. I was also the proud owner of three hamsters. Boris showed up on my doorstep claiming that his original owner was allergic to him, but it is far more likely that he was evicted because he was a rude and snarky little twit with an irritating fixation on nothing at all. The lazy old coot. Kezzie was my second hamster, and I named her Kezzie because of a fascination for names with "Z's". It was also better than "Bowser." Roadkill was my last rodent friend: my sister Laura found him while she was delivering the news on her morning paper route. She deftly scooped Roadkill into her bag and brought him home to be a playmate for Kezzie.

They hated each other.

Roadkill died from blunt force trauma and Kezzie was suspected of foul play until a fingerprint analysis and chalk outline of his corpse proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he died of mysterious causes. Kezzie lasted the longest of all of them, dying a beloved hamster. Her favorite pastimes were being thrown through the air and caught on a pillow, being saddled up to my Playmobil stagecoach to assist Black Bart in escaping the Sheriff, and escaping in the wee hours of the morning to snuggle up with my sister, Amy. They were great pals.

All of my hamsters were buried in fine plastic containers lined with the nicest fabrics generously donated for the occasion by Laura. They were all buried with full military honors in my mother's flower garden out by the shed because it hadn't occurred to me to flush them down the loo.

Fraud in the Factoid: More reasons to hate Silicon Valley (Round Six) – Silicon wrist rests are stretchy. Veeeery stretchy. So stretchy that if you peel away the plastic backing you can extend it from one end of room to another. Just- for cryin’ out loud, DON’T LET GO! I believe the incident sparking this revelation occurred shortly after the Great Memorial Day Republican Belly Flop Incident and shortly before the Avenging Ciabatta Loaf of Death Occurrence. Don’t ask, because I’m not going to tell you and the involved parties are either suspiciously unavailable or have expunged the incident from their minds.

Fraud in the Factoid: Happy? Birthday (Round Seven) – My birthday falls on the anniversary of the guillotining of Marie Antoinette, the execution of the Nuremburg war criminals, the start of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and the first Million Man March. Excuse me for not hauling out the confetti and party hats, I'll be in my coffin if anyone needs me.

Fraud in the Factoid: Because seven just ain’t enough (Round Eight) –
Remember is a great organization.

And now those I am to tag.

Pope Benedict because I doubt the college of Cardinals is prone to passing this sorta thing around and the poor guy is probably feeling left out.

Scott Somerville, primarily because otherwise I'd have to got to a conference to hear seven of the most random facts I'd never heard before and probably didn't need to know but gosh I'm sure glad I know now.

Segolene Royal, because I just can't figure out how to say "loser" in French.

Lee Ann Bisculca, for various and sundry reasons, but if you know her, you'd agree it's a great choice.

The City of Oxnard because those municipal web sites are a huge waste of money otherwise.

My buddy Court who, I know gave me his blog way back when but I have now lost it, so no link to you out there in the blogosphere. He's one of my oldest pals/co-conspirators and I owe him for everything from putting up with me to introducing me to fine coffee to saving me from being another unsocialized homeschooler on homeschool skating Tuesdays to midnight rubberband gun wars, to dictatorial elections to theoretical theology... here's lookin' at ya, wherever you sign on. We'll always have Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla.

Dennis Kucinich… whaddya mean “WHAT!?!”

Close to Home

2007-05-22T10:29:00.000-04:00

Why we're not sure yet if Kelly will be a good mom... Weebix will be running to Daddy for comfort.

What Season are You?

2007-05-03T11:09:00.001-04:00

You Are Fall!

Thoughtful
Expressive
Creative
Poetic
Smart

What Season Are You?

Non-Christian Bread

2007-05-01T09:32:00.000-04:00

Spotted on a sign at a local grocery store:

"Breads of the World... baked from a variety of worldly recipes."

Menus

2007-04-30T16:30:00.000-04:00

I made a fun discovery last week.

I actually *can* still cook. And I still enjoy it! I ate only two meals last week that I didn't assemble myself, a sandwich I picked up at South Street Under on Thursday afternoon and a pasta dinner cooked by Pete on Thursday night.

I am trying to schedule my grocery shopping days for Monday mornings. Compared to the weekends I typically shop, the grocery stores are ghost towns! I enjoy pacing myself through the store with 3 1/2 hours to spare before I need to pick Pete up for lunch so he can have the car for the afternoon commute home. I save money, and I get to come up with fun, innovative ideas to knock his socks off! I am also learning to shop for two--not ten, as I would with my family when I was growing up.

Here is just a sampling of some recent menu items:

*London Broil with a red wine/garlic marinade, topped with fresh mozzarella cheese
*Beef stew in a (potatoless) vegetable broth and homemade white bread
*Cheesecake with a homemade blueberry/lime topping
*Marinated chicken, grilled outdoor style
*Corned beef Reubens with an italian dressing twist
*Fresh strawberries topped with a dash of sugar, a touch of lime juice, and a drizzle of half and half
*Strawberry/cantaloupe salad topped with sour cream

That's what I can remember at the moment. You see, I can post this, because I am finding myself very, very hungry recently. In fact, I am merely posting this before I head downstairs to begin dinner preparations. Because I am hungry again. And food is more important than I would have ever believed it could be.

YOU try gaining 28 pounds in six months!

The Egotaxical Pauper

2007-04-19T17:04:00.001-04:00

My buddy Gabe recently posted about having an accountant do his taxes this year. Before the massive hordes who monitor this on-line platform of all things sacrosanct, obsequious and sesquipedalian rush to judge him for his betrayal of manhood, let it be known that he currently entertains the most maddeningly insane schedule of anyone I know, so hiring somebody else to do the taxes was actually an exercise in prudence. But it prompted a gigantic spike in my Pride Factor in knowing that I had crunched the numbers, flogged the calculator, and beat the deadline, filing our taxes all by my lonesome and without the aide of a Criminally Provocative Antagonist (CPA).*

HEAR YE, HEAR YE, I did it myself.

Yup.

By my lonesome.

Oh, and y'know what I also did? I also failed to re-file my W-4 at the beginning of the 2006 calendar year with sufficient withholdings, thus causing us to pay roughly $3,000 extra in taxes. Sigh. My Pride Factor has returned to its appropriate 'Pondscum' setting.

Oh, and he also scored one point higher than I did on the MPRE, so he's more ethical than I am to boot. Yikes, the PF has slipped below 'Pondscum' to an all-time low... 'French.'

* Let it be known I happen to like CPA's, my dad and brother-in-law are both accountants and many people equate the literacy rates of J.D. recipients and CPA's as roughly equivalent.

[Easter] in Connecticut

2007-04-06T15:06:00.000-04:00

There is a reason why Barbara Stanwyck spent "Christmas in Connecticut" rather than Easter. Easter in Connecticut looks like Christmas... except without the snow... or the lights... or the trees... strike that: Easter in Connecticut looks rather dull and grey. Fortunately, time spent visiting family and friends can help remove the dull, grey outlook and make it feel as if we're in Majorca. Seriously.

Ok, no so seriously.

Somewhat like Majorca with a little less sun.

And beach.

And friendly natives. (BTW, Connecticut's Department of Tourism Affairs [the renamed DMV] will be announcing any day now that the state motto is changing to "Connecticut: Not QUITE like Majorca but kinda sorta if you squint in the general direction of Rhode Island...")

At any rate, native Nutmeggers, praying off snow flurries that might impede the Easter Bunny, are accepting the cold and wind with the alacrity of a French boarder guard repelling a German invasion.

Too Long Gone

2007-04-01T14:51:00.000-04:00

Not only have we been too long from this blog, we have spent much too much time apart this weekend. Nebraska holds no charm for either of us at this point, after Pete's four days missing from my side here in VA--all for a homeschooling group in Nebraska.

I hope they appreciated his presence. I would have appreciated it too.

How odd that we have been married for 1 1/2 years already and it is harder for us to be apart now than it was before we were married. I am hoping this is a good sign.

I am hoping my attitude will be somewhat improved over his next trip.

Comparative Analysis

2006-10-19T21:11:00.000-04:00

On consecutive evenings I have watched, in no particular order
The Hunt for Red October
Intolerable Cruelty
McLintock
A Life Less Ordinary
Fievel Goes West

Fearlessly cutting through the reams of research necessary to compose a 4L paper with the daring-do of Alec Baldwin, the charm of George Clooney, the belly-up to danger attitude of John Wayne, the European suavity of Ewan MacGregor, and the overpowering physique of a two-dimensional rodent, Pete charges through the evening sans caffeine.

On threat of percolation, the adorable female of the species cutely, but sternly, questions “To stay up late tonight or get up early tomorrow morning?”

The male, sensing insubordination and logic within the ranks, quickly returns fire:
‘Don’t look at me in that tone of voice!’
The male, sensing self-stupidity, buttresses his position by quickly putting on his headphones and looking down at his computer.

Darn you George Clooney. The standard is too high.

The Benefit of the Pout

2006-10-17T22:04:00.000-04:00

(Or my way of dealing with stupid policies)

Not being certain of what rouses you from deep and holy recesses of slumber is annoying. Realizing that (a) one’s alarm clock failed to peal forth glorious salutations of a new day and (b) had one known how awful one would have felt one would have entrenched oneself further into the safe recesses of one’s bed does not extend the already short list of reasons to rouse oneself to “urgent” or even “half-way convincing” status, and does nothing to light a fire under one’s tuckus.

6:45 a.m. and dark skies greeted me earlier this morning. One considered releasing one’s alarm clock from one’s employ ‘til one, ‘pon checking said device, was made to understand one had set said device (pink slip withdrawn) for 4 post meridian rather than 4 ante meridian. The refreshing wave known as knowledge and enlightenment was only slightly interfered with by the vague sensation of falling. Backwards, that is, into the washing machine to be precise. What brought on my sudden vertigo, I quickly discovered was that a night of hard partying (birthday chili spiced up by The Secret of Life of Walter Mitty and bed at 8:30) in honor of my birthday had left its mark on my nervous system. To put it quite more to the point, I was sick.

I truly do try not to complain about my health. My beloved’s medical history causes my thoroughly good health to quiver in shame at the prospect of admitting sickness. That being said, this morning I do believe I have topped my sick sensations. Kelly and I agreed to give ourselves the morning to get things in order. Having some urgent things to attend to at work (as a newly christened quarter-centenarian, that sounds so promisingly important), I opted to go into work for a few hours and, well, attend to them. After three hours in the office, I packed up shop and headed for home by way of one of the major commercial centers in the bustling metropolis of Purcellville (read Giant grocery store). The object of my pursuit was a bag of chips to accompany dinner.

As I parked and entered the store, I was struck with a sharp pain in my skull that usually accompanies thinking. A brilliant plan had erupted in my brain-thingie! Having many sundry items to transport home from work, and, in light of the fact that that skies released a chilly rain in porous fashion, I elected to purchase two bags of chips and procure two bags from the store. One bag would be utilized for the transportation of the chips, and one for the half dozen now-soaking other items in my car.

After concluding my transaction at the register I collected my pre-bagged now bagged chips and deftly snagged another plastic bag to accomplish my mission. As I prepared to exite the premises, my attention was arrested by a sharp, “Sir!” Trusting my solitude would only be interrupted in a grocery store by, say, having won a life time supply of cupcakes, I was surprised to discover that the origin of my interruption was a bag-lady. Now this bag lady was not importunate, at least not in any way I could, with my Wimsian powers, ascertain. She was however, fitted with that supreme mark of authoritarian sternness that marks all great grocery store bag ladies… she was short.

She continued. “Sir, you can’t take that.” I said nothing. In fact, during the entire exchange following, I said nothing.
Her eyes fell to the extra bag in my hand.
“You… have two bags.”
Her eyes remained steadfastly fixed on the bag, like a dog whose visual orbs lock onto a tennis ball. I briefly contemplated pitching the bag over my shoulder with the command to “Retrieve, Bruiser, KILL!” but let it lapse.
“If you have under six items you can only have one bag.”
‘Brilliant!’ I thought, ‘I’m going to go find the six largest items I can in the store and try to cram them into the bloody bag, SUING YOU NINCOMPOOPS when I injure myself. But again, I said nothing, reaching the stage of actual disbelief.
“It’s…it’s store policy.”
I looked over my shoulder outdoors, smiling internally that the gods had blessed me with a torrential downpour to provide natural embellishment to any story I could concoct for the necessity of two plastic bags. Need a canoe? Sure, I just have to grab my bags- oh, whoops, store policy forbids it!
My glance returned to the diminutive bag lady as I shifted my substantial bulk, squaring up… or as it were, pearing up <-- PLAY ON WORDS] to her.
Side note: My lovely and non-pear-shaped wife indicates that my above mentioned “Play on words” doesn’t make sense. I would like to remind readers of this post that Peter is writing, and therefore no sense is to be found anywhere. This should not be taken as a slight against dear Kelly, for I now she means well… I just wish that sometimes I had a point and could shoot back with something wittier than… well, this. Sighhh…
I again looked outside. The rain was falling so heavily, I could have sworn I saw a Cadillac float by the window. She tugged the bag from my hand and muttered something about how the “conversation is at an end” and “Don’t ask me why, etc.”
‘Don’t worry, fair maid!’ I nearly called after her, ‘Have no fear, I shall not ask from whose brilliant mental bowels this policy was expunged!’ But alas, I said nothing.

Long Overdue

2006-09-29T21:47:00.000-04:00

DISCLAIMER: This post is not a reflection of any of our current circumstances or situations. Its purpose is pure drivel and a lot of nonsense. But do enjoy.

Hey guys,

Seeing as how it’s been a while since I wrote a general e-mail to all of you, let me re-introduce how this works.

In the deep recesses of my cavernous (which means BIG but EMPTY) and strikingly addled brain, there dwells a creative force waiting to be released on an unsuspecting public. Unfortunately, I can’t figure out what it is yet. In consequence, I string together random thoughts and hope that there is a commonality in them that could be interpreted as a "Subject". When I stumble across this ‘subject’, I make a mental note to myself to compose a humorous vignette based on it. Of course, most of those mental notes lose their sticky backing, and fall off the mental refrigerator under the mental stove, as it were. There is rests with the mental dust balls and half-eaten mental Oreos until something important falls down behind the mental stove, and I have to pull it out to get to it. Then I am confronted with a pile of mental notes that would fuel Mongolia’s central heating system for a month.

Be fair, a week.

Honestly, a day and not less.

Ok ok, 7 seconds if you add 4 tons of coal, but you get the idea.

Touching on the subject matter at hand, it’s nippy up here. It’s downright cold, actually. This morning it was -5 degrees. Being a crustacean, I natura- …. Crustacean? That’s not right. Crusti- crust of bread, crost crutting measures… Crusty Nutmegger, there’s the soubriquet. Being a crusty Nutmegger, I don’t make it a habit of complaining about the weather though. You should notice, I am NOT complaining. I am merely pontificating my lack of satisfaction, on a purely subjective level, with the present meteorological conditions surrounding my domicile.

But I digress. The reason we don’t make a habit of complaining about the weather is twofold. First, in the summer it’s always hotter in Texas, and Texans (no apologies to the Texas delegation in the peanut gallery) have a perverse satisfaction in finding themselves hotter than 90% of the country. "The only way WE can cool down is by hopping in a freezer chest filled with liquid nitrogen, and sinking it in Lake Baikal Siberia! Shaddup, ya wimpy eastern ponce, before I whack you on the head with an armadillo in spurs!"

Second, in the winter it’s always colder someplace else, like Minnesota. Without going into extraneous details, they’ll tell us wimpy eastern ponces to shut up before they hit us over the head with a moose in a tutu. Incidentally, the way Minnesotans stay warm is by spending their winters in Texas. There are no, I repeat NO Minnesotans who actually live up there in the winter. How many Minnesotans have you actually seen in Minnesota in the winter? How many have you seen in Texas in the winter?

Though this research was not scientific, I think 4 out of 5 dentists would agree with me. There is, I have heard tell, a National Parks ranger who occupies a hunting lodge in southern Minnesota during 2 weeks in January. The only way he stays warm is by ripping the heating element out of his toaster and dipping it in his shorts. When he wakes up, he pops the hood of his pick-up and plays snuggle-bunnies with the engine block.

Anyway, so’s not to complain about the weather, I’ll explain how we wimpy northeastern ponces get through weeks like this. Here's the secret, are you ready?
We shamelessly exploit it in attempts to get sympathy. Remember, northeasterners are liberals, and essentially as narcissistic as… well, we produced Ted Kennedy, Howard Dean, John Kerry and gay civil unions, what more do you want?

To understand the mindset, let me take you through 3 quick, self-aggrandizing ways to make other people feel sorry for your plight.

First, insert the temperature into every conversation. Just make sure it's going to be a cold day, and then, as matter-of-factly as possible, say something like, "Hey Frank, I haven't spoken to you since college! I hear you're joining AARP next month. Say, it's -48 degrees right now!"

Now how did our not-so-subtle caller pin the thermometer at -48 degrees? Is it REALLY -48 degrees? Of course not, but I'll let you guys in on how all this work.

Tomorrow’s high is forecasted as 5 degrees. Veritably tropical. The low is forecasted to be –15, and the wind chill is forecasted at –20 to –40.

Upon hearing news like this, you must start out be sinking the temp 5 to 10 degrees to sound more impressive. For example, had the forecast been a high of 30 degrees, you would naturally say, "Did you hear it’ll be 20 tomorrow?" This in turn sets up that person to subtract another 5 to 10 degrees and so on and so forth, until the word Kelvin conjures images Rio De Janeiro and girls sensuously tangoing with fruit baskets on their heads. As it is, the best we can come up with are images of Finland and polar bears turkey trotting in City Hall.

Second, you must have proper respect to "highs" and "lows". This is simple. Highs project the warmer temperature, and therefore get less sympathy. Thus, you must only speak in terms of low temperatures. If the low is forecasted as 30 degrees, you must say, "Did you hear it’ll be 20 degrees tomorrow?" (remembering to subtract 5-10 degrees from the forecasted temperature of course). Again, this permits the sliding scale to continue until your non-New England family and/or friends naturally presume you’re living on Pluto.

Pluto, incidentally, is thought to be a toasty average of –378 to –396 degrees. NASA isn’t quite 100% sure on that, but hey, their guess is better than mine.

Third, a proper understanding of wind chill or wind chill factor is essential. Wind chill can be basically understood as follows:

Uh, my bad. It can’t be. However, I have, in the place of accurate meteorological theories, composed witty and not-at-all sensible poem:

Thirty days hath December,
Killing two birds I don’t remember.
Or were they pigs, who, when they loft,
Mount on wings of clouds so soft?
At-mos-phere thin, helps lift them boldly
To heights unknown by pigs. So coldly
Then those hams take flight and soar!
"It’s a bird! Or a plane!" No! It’s a boar!
Which brings in mind Bernoulli’s theorem,
Meaning wind must blow. So now I fear ‘em.
Those flying pigs, of course I mean,
Yep, frozen hams (Dr. Suesse's were green!).
So remember that when choosing diets
Stick with protein what gots suet.
An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of chicken—
Those cold flying pigs just keep on tickin’.

And that’s all you need to know about wind-chill right there. Of course, meteorologists would take issue with that line of reasoning, but then their jobs depend on the lies they weave. So who are you going to believe, some washed up actor with a rug who pretends he knows what he’s talking about or the meteorologist? Remember, 4 out of 5 dentists choose, uh, sixty percent of the lower working classes- er, tax cuts. Or something like that.

So having heard my deft explanations of how seriously we New Englanders take our weather, it come time for me to divulge how I would advise a visitor to deal with it.

If you recall your high school days, ponder for a moment the period known as "The Industrial Revolution". This is when Jesse Jackson and Louis Farrakhan said, "Don’t fire until you see the whites!" Now, during this time, Welsh miners found that when they descended into the coal veins to rip the ore from the bowels of the earth (proving once again that too many adjectives can be a very baaaad thing!) the presence of a canary was advantageous. This was because canaries have a (slightly) lower tolerance of carbon monoxide than do humans. Hence, when the canary shuffled off to Buffalo and tipped the scales towards Blighty the miners would know it was time to make reservations on a higher plane. Namely, get lead out of their knickers and skidaddle up out of the mine.

Likewise, New Englanders have their own sacrificial animal to toss outside during a cold spell. Cats usually suffice, but occasionally a Canadian or pigeon will suffice.

If the sacrificial animal quickly becomes statuesque, the assumption is made that it’s too cold to venture outside for all but the most necessary tasks. These tasks include rushing pregnant women to the hospital, emergency runs to the grocery store for more nachos during March Madness, or sitting outside for 4 hours at a Patriots game (may Indianapolis tap-dance on your spines and consume your jerseys for snacks!).

If you happen to be visiting during a cold spell, please bring your own cat. Or Canadian. Unless you’re from Canada. Then you must provide your own unwanted critter. Vermonters will suffice.

Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have to go get my monthly head-smacking from a tutu clad moose bearing Minnesotan.

T-t-t-t-toodles,
?ete

The Days Move On...

2006-06-12T13:08:00.000-04:00

It's more than time for an update on the lives of Peter and Kelly. We've been so busy for the last couple of months, it's hard to find time to blog and keep the rest of you in the loop!

I shot my fourth wedding this year last weekend. I now have about 7,000 pictures to proof in the next two weeks, before my last one for the summer. Pete just got back from Connecticut on his third conference of the year (the first two have been in the last six weeks). We are ready for a break. And an update!

We celebrated our six-month anniversary in April with a short, intimate vow renewal on the beach (pictures to be posted at some point, I promise!) and a stroll down memory lane with a night at the bed and breakfast where I was staying the night I called Pete a year and a half ago.

Pete's sister Amy and her family have moved into Maryland, and we can't tell how much we're looking forward to spending more time with them when all this is over!

My brother Josh has gotten engaged to a sweet girl who reminds me so much of me that I'm just flattered at how much Josh actually liked me! We shall see how the Lord leads these two. Pete and I look at them and think how young they are to be getting married--19 and 21--and we have to keep reminding ourselves that God knows what He's doing and He doesn't give everyone what He gave to Pete and me at the beginning.

We've been doing so much traveling (we've been to Lynchburg, Florida, DC, OH, Philadelphia, and Connecticut in the last couple of weeks), we hardly know where home is anymore--oh wait! It's not really our home! We have a mouse who has moved in and appropriated Pete's sunflower seeds and my chocolate. Our landlords have also hired a ghost-painter to scare the soot-coated walls into hiding. We were blessed to receive a new fireplace to erase THAT particular problem.

The last two weeks, we have eaten at home ONCE, so our grocery bills have been going into eating out. Lately, I've been subsisting on hot dogs and pizza. Yes. I know this is not healthy. I cannot help hoping that I am gaining weight, however. When I do have a chance to cook at home, we have been enjoying a renovated Martha Stewart recipe for chicken with lemon and thyme. Pete loves it, and I'm drinking lemonade again this summer for the first time in several years. I forgot how much I liked it (though we quibble a bit about how watered down it should be!)

God has not stopped being faithful to us, and though we're perhaps not as close to Him relationally as we'd both like, His hand is evident not only in the work He is doing in our lives, but also in His provision for us as we have faced bills and car repairs and speeding tickets and tiredness.

One of the biggest examples of His hand on our lives occurred three weeks ago, when my best friend came in from out of town. She has a mental illness, and she had stopped taking her medication because she wanted to try a natural route for a physical problem she didn't have. Pete stayed home from his conference that weekend and we were brought to the end of ourselves as she slipped further down the slope of reality. God brought us closer together as we reached out to minister to her, finally making the hardest decision I've ever made in my life to get treatment for her. In the end, He comforted us both as we cried over the pain of her loss.

The house is finally starting to come back under control now, and I'm home sick today to try to catch up on some rest and correspondence.

My brother Joel is graduating in two weeks, so we'll be in Lynchburg for that, and then it's out to Kansas the next week for another graduation!

That is about all the news that is fit to report for the moment (or rather, all that I can think of to write about). Let us know how you all are doing!

Sudden Spring Update

2006-03-10T13:16:00.000-05:00

Pete and Kelly got married in October. They've been learning and growing and getting to love each other better. It's been a good and tough first few months of marriage. But, they made it through the winter, in spite of their soot-encrusted apartment (gotta love the gas sometimes--we can't even get it off the porcelain in the bathroom) and the cold outside. They are thankful for a shortish, mildish winter, even though Pete is from Connecticut.

Pete and Kelly are having fun setting up house and starting a photography business. Pete is studying for school again, and Kelly is letting him. Kelly has been going to sleep abnormally early, and Pete has been getting up abnormally early. But, we enjoy the time we have together during the days.

Pete just got his topic for his senior seminar paper, and he is quite excited about it. Kelly is a bit clueless about the law of the thing, but wondering what kind of cracks Pete can come up with for "Legal Criteria for Protecting the Right to Life of Incompetent People."

Today, Pete and Kelly drove to Leesburg and South Street Under for lunch, and then drove back by way of a little-known country road. We saw running horses in a pasture beside the country road. It was pretty.

Pete and Kelly are excited because they will soon have Pete's sister Amy and brother-in-law David in Maryland, along with two of our nices and nephlets! We're looking forward to visiting, photographing, gifting, and getting to know them a bit better--provided God doesn't send US out to California when Pete passes the Bar next year. Because he will.

Pete and Kelly are getting ready for a fun secret that happens on a Tuesday. :-D You know we'll post some pictures when it happens!

So here is our update for a sudden spring day.

And here are a couple of new favorite pictures. Enjoy!

WHAAA???

2006-02-23T12:55:00.000-05:00

I occasionally check a blog that has a lot of interesting articles about married life, but today's post just about floored me!

The topic was raising our boys to be men and our women to be women. Which I'm okay with to a point, but people will be people, and that is an inevitable fact. Creating gender roles is not a good way for dealing with life.

Anyway, the post linked to an "insightful" (insightful? Good grief, do these people just get together and pat each other on the back for their ideas all the time?) post from the leader of a religious organization that shall, for the purposes of this post, remain anonymous.

The insight given in the post?

...This reminded me of a rule I want us to adopt for our blog. No smiley faces allowed! Real men do not use smiley faces on e-mails! This is fine for the ladies, but not the men. Real men communicate humor effectively without having to use a smiley face and real men can discern the presence of genuine humor without seeing a smiley face. So let our blog be free from all wimp-like communication!

Excuse me while I check my gender again and make sure I have landed in the *right* role...

:-)

;-)

:-P

:-D

Valentine's Week Report

2006-02-22T09:09:00.000-05:00

Valentine's Day fell inconveniently prior to payday this year, but since it was our first V-Day after getting married, we weren't about to let it slide. Instead, we created something that could become a tradition: a Valentine's Week. Instead of choosing one day to look forward to and risk spending a ton of money (because everything is expensive for Valentine's Day), we gave each other a whole week of surprises and fun!

On Monday, I officially commenced my Valentine's Week blogging at my personal blog with a collection of rememberies, quotes, and love-related stuff.

On Tuesday, Pete was resigned to going home, watching a movie, and spending a normal evening. He didn't know I had spent some time compiling love quotes, romantic pictures, and short passages from Song of Solomon to combine into a 10-card evening for him. We stopped for pizza and a bit of sparkling blush on our way home, and had a very special night as I gave him the cards throughout the evening.

Wednesday, I had scheduled emails with a love quote or poem to arrive for him every half-hour during the day, culminating in a love letter at the end of the day. His email for noon? Two of my packages arrived for him: a little stuffed llama from an old memory, and the Mansfield Park soundtrack from a new memory! (We had just watched the movie on Saturday, and Pete had really enjoyed the soundtrack.) On Wednesday evening, we went out for Japanese together, joining two apologetic couples who were out with their rather noisy young children at a table for eight.

By Thursday, I was running a bit short on ideas, but Pete was just getting started. When we went grocery shopping on Thursday evening, he disappeared on the pretense of hitting the restroom. I didn't suspect a thing, though I wondered a bit if he was okay, because he was sure taking his time in there! When we got to the car after we finished shopping, Pete had me open the back to find three bouquets of spray roses waiting for me. The sneak! I quickly moved them out of the way to put in the passenger back so we could load the groceries, and then went to the front seat to start the car, since I was driving. There was another bouquet of flowers on the driver's seat--"Kelly, you ditz! You meant to put those in the back--oh wow..." It was a NEW bouquet of fragrant, long-stemmed red roses. Extravagant!

Friday was our planned date night for Valentine's Week. I knew we were going out, and it was going to be late, but Pete didn't tell me until we were almost to the Metro Station that he was taking me to see the Disney Ice Princesses production at the MCI Center in D.C. I was thrilled! I had decided not to watch the Olympic ice skating this year (Michelle Kwan's withdrawal was QUITE a bummer), so Pete had found a way for me to see ice skating anyway! On our way to the MCI center, I presented Pete with his last two gifts, a little stuffed walrus (from another old memory) and the soundtrack to the new Pride and Prejudice, which we listened to on the way.

Pete promised one more surprise as we arrived at the last minute, and as we raced to our seats, I found my eyes growing wider and wider as we approached the front. Three rows back, two rows back... *gulp* "You bought us seats in the FRONT row?" It was an incredibly fun experience! I can be such a little kid sometimes: I didn't stop smiling the whole night! My guy is so wonderful!

Saturday evening brought the end of our Valentine's week. Pete surprised me with chocolate-dipped strawberries that he'd dipped himself, and I had a little fun with roses and candles after our crockpot dinner of corned beef and cabbage... (*chuckle* We were celebrating a bit early for St. Patrick's Day?)

We have enjoyed so much of our relationship in the comfort of our friendship, but Valentine's Week let us go a bit beyond friendship to the more daring, romantic end of things. All in all, it was a very special week, and one that we'll both probably treasure for a long time. It gave us both an opportunity to invest in each other, and learn more about what makes the other feel loved.

Date Remembery #2

2006-02-14T10:24:00.000-05:00

Our first Valentine's Day remembery, about the evils of not obtaining full disclosure, can be found here.

Do enjoy!

Saturday Fun

2006-02-13T11:32:00.000-05:00

Pete and I finally did something I have always dreamed of doing...

We went ice skating on Saturday, in the snow at the outdoor rink at the sculpture garden in Washington DC. It was about as romantic as I'd always dreamed! We skated with a few friends, and generally enjoyed our time together, with a rather interesting finish to the evening on our way home over the treacherous roads.

Have I mentioned that people in Northern Virginia have no concept of how to drive in snow?

Well, that particular factor was the cause of my first, reportedly inevitable, minor car accident. We are thanking God that no one was hurt and that the damage was minimal.

Email Fun

2006-02-10T14:23:00.000-05:00

I was going back through some old emails yesterday, and found a few priceless exchanges from when Pete and I first met. It's always fun to find after the fact how completely attractive someone was--you just didn't know it...

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 01:17PM >>>
You have an AIM handle?

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 01:19PM >>>
I was in the process of writing you the same thing. Copycat :p

I'm "Wasserzapfen".

Don't ask.
If you do, don't expect a serious reply.
If you do, be prepared to roll your eyes and groan.
Sort of like a sick walrus does when he has a bad stomach ache...

Toodles,
?ete

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 01:24PM >>>
copycat, huh?

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 01:26PM >>>
Well, it sounded better than copy-Striped Zambian Whooping Yak...

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 01:27PM >>>
Uh, right.

Have you ever thought of writing a children's book about strange creatures?

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 01:29PM >>>
I have, it's a shadow-author piece called, 'It Takes a Village', under the pen-name Hillary Clinton. Strange creatures, sister, veeeerrrry strange.

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 01:39PM >>>
WHAA???

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 04:43PM >>>
"I've run rings 'round you logically!"

Seriously, I don't know what I'm saying, so don't waste your valuable time trying to figure it out yourself!!!

Toodles,
?ete

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 04:44PM >>>
If there had been more than one email with the WHAA??? in it, it would have been valuable time.

Do I *look* like I've been trying to figure it out?

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 04:50PM >>>
Well, that's 2 e-mails with "WHAA???" in it, so we're gettin' there ;)

Incidentally, I can't see you, so I don't know what you look like. Except you've got brown hair, I DO know that.

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 04:53PM >>>
VERY perceptive.

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 04:59PM >>>
No no, I'm a Baptist by upbringing...

>>> Kelly Langner 06/02/04 05:00PM >>>
Now I *know* I missed something...

What does that have to do with the price of rotten tomatoes to throw at very little dorks who get sore Kellys very dizzy?

>>> Peter Sauer 06/02/04 05:05PM >>>
Pragmatism never works like it's supposed to...

What time tomorrow does the hoopla begin? Why is the sky blue? What is the sound of one hand striking another? Come to think of it, what is the sound of one cane swatting Peter's pate? Let's stop whilst I'm ahead. Or not too far behind. Or at least not too far back...

Date Remembery #1

2006-02-06T09:41:00.000-05:00

I decided that for my own reference (because I'm forgetful) and for general recognition of how romantic Pete can be, I should post some of my favorite dates.

For my first date remembery shall be the date that I remember as being our first evening when we were truly "together" for the first time.

For Christmas in 2004, before Pete and I became a couple, I had given myself a four-day stay in a bed and breakfast in Tappahannock, Virginia (actually, Pete had paid for about half of my stay as his Christmas present to me). My plan was to get away, just me and God, and refresh my tired soul with another foray into Scripture, as I had done the year before.

God, it seemed, had other plans.

Instead of sending me into Scripture, God started quizzing me about my feelings. He had been running a theme over Christmas about acknowledging Him in all my ways, and He seemed rather insistent at this point about the "all" part. "All" included emotions, He reminded me.

So I was suddenly faced with the prospect of continuing to stuff the growing feelings in my heart for Pete and lie to a God who knew what was going on anyway, or being honest with God and actually facing the feelings that I was pretty sure at that point were beyond friendship.

I'm sure you can guess how that dilemma played out. After two days of trying to avoid the issue, I was out of ideas on avoiding God. So we talked about it. I was terrified. I couldn't believe what I was thinking. I mean, I knew Pete was in love with me, but when a guy is faced with the actual prospect of marriage...

Then I called Pete. "Um, Pete, what if God isn't telling me to get as far away from you as possible?"

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"Um, I think I'm falling in love with you..."

And we talked about it. Until 4:00 in the morning we talked about it. Did he ever want it. He told me that on his way home for Christmas, he had told God he wanted to marry me.

*soft laugh* We must have solved the problems of the world that night, we talked so long. We covered our dreams about the future, things we had only thought about each other, how many children we wanted, and what we hoped our relationship could be. We talked about procedure, and our families, and what God wanted for us. A good part of the conversation consisted of "I can't believe this is happening..." I told Pete that I had worn my blue dress for him the night of the Christmas banquet, and he finally told me what he'd thought--I was breathtaking.

We were miles apart, but I had never felt so close to someone in my whole life. I knew that whatever came, we'd be in it together. At the end of the conversation, for the first time in my life, I heard a man who loved me tell me I was loved as I went to sleep.

It was the nicest, safest feeling in the world.

Update on the Sauers

2006-01-30T09:47:00.000-05:00

Hello, Everyone! I thought it was time to post a bit of an update on our post-wedding life.

While I've been working at getting my photography studio off the ground, Pete has been gearing up for another year of school: his last. Next year at this time, he'll be studying like mad for his last finals. We're working at planning in together time and vacation around the two photography trips we'll be making this summer for a couple of weddings.

We've also been reading through a couple of books together, the latest being "The Five Love Languages," and I'm getting to enjoy Pete's Jeeves and Wooster. We're nearly finished moving into the house--we just got some free comfy chairs this weekend (granted, they need a little maintenance, but that's okay. They will be SO cool in our living room!), and most of the wedding clutter has now been stowed. The study is still a work in progress, but it's progressing. It's not like we don't have time...

This last weekend, we went to my parents' new home, which is also still in progress, but much more together than it was when we saw it over Christmas. Mom has a new little mop of a dog she has named Sadie Rose--breaking the J/K pattern for her baby-naming. Lucky dog. She is not potty-trained yet, and the gates are back up. *wry grin* Some things, it seems, never change.

General prayer requests:

My health seems to be taking a slight downward turn since the wedding, and I've a sense it may turn more drastically this time than I would like. I'm looking into a new doctor to see if we can try something different. I would appreciate prayer for strength.

Please pray that Pete and I will grow closer to each other and in the Lord as we try to make the time for his schoolwork and my photography. Marriage so far has been a bumpy experience (we have some fun personality differences), but it is also worthwhile to know that we have been open with each other from the beginning. God is working in both of us in ways I think we cannot fathom. He has given us both the sense that He is giving us comfort that we will be able to share with others someday.

Pray for our job situation. We're seeking God about where He would have us go, or even if He would have us go after Pete's two-year commitment is complete at HSLDA. There's a world of opportunities in front of us at this point, and we're wondering where God will take us.

Wow, it appears we may have some more changes coming... My husband just asked me if I want to put highlights in my hair tonight. Um... Poll, anyone?

One Little Nice

2006-01-26T10:32:00.000-05:00

I suppose this begs the question of whether Emilie actually *ate* anything at all...

Fun Things

2006-01-25T16:32:00.000-05:00

Today over lunch, my wonderfully romantic husband (well, he doesn't think he's romantic, but when he puts his mind to it--wow! I nearly cried!) re-worked an old rhyme just for me!

"Something old..."
He supplied me with my leftover tuna.

"Something new..."
He had picked up a warm apple cider.

"Something borrowed... (only you probably won't give them back...)"
He had given me pickles to go with my lunch.

"And something red."
He set a bouquet of bright red tulips near my desk.

So now I have food in my tummy, warmth in my heart, "Sauer" in my puss, and spring in my office.

It was a cool surprise.

If we weren't random enough...

2006-01-17T13:25:00.000-05:00

Check out THIS blonde joke!

Twelfth Night: Custody of "The Platter"

2006-01-13T16:18:00.000-05:00

On Monday night, Pete and I hosted our first annual Twelfth Night party. Being newly married, we understand the importance of creating our own family traditions, and since all of our other holidays were booked, we decided to create a Twelfth Night celebration--a few days late.

For more information about this hilarious evening, click here.

A Pandemic of Pangrams

2006-01-06T13:52:00.000-05:00

My darling wife gave me my Christmas present yesterday, Schott’s Original Miscellany, a delightful amphigory compiled in a small tome of a mere 160 pages. Amongst its treasured leaves I found the following pangrams:

First, there's the fact that "Jackdaws love my big sphinx of quartz!"
This leads one to muse over the wisdom of exhibiting one's quartz sphinx's in full view of Jackdaws. The ethics of this may be investigated in a later post.

Second, we get athletic and "Jump by vow of quick, lazy strength in Oxford." I'm sure Cambridge grads everywhere heave a huge sigh of relief upon receipt of this intelligence.

Third, “Sixty zippers were quickly picked from the woven jute bag.”
I can’t think of anything to add…

Fourth, “We promptly judged antique ivory buckles for the next prize.”
This is a pickle. What are the criteria for judging antique ivory buckles? How would you award a prize and what would be awarded? What experience did the judges have and most importantly… how can Pat Robertson spin this to sound like God will strike down people who disagree with him (Rev. Robertson, that is)? Careful, response to this post may single you out for an attack of halitosis.

Fifth, “How piqued gymnasts can level six jumping razorback frogs.”
Evidently, piqued gymnasts can also engage in mass idiocy.

Sixth, we have “Waltz, bad nymph, for quick jigs vex.”
Vexing as it may be, it’s also extremely interesting to watch.

Lastly, of course, our beloved “quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.” The fox, of course represents … something deep and esoteric. I am the dog. Jumping is a metaphor for eating and brown is a blatant advertising attempt by UPS to usurp this post.
Bold.
Striking
Poignant.
My work here is done. Thank you, Ben Schott, for giving us Schott's Original Mischellany

Christmas With Family

2005-12-28T15:27:00.000-05:00

Classic Langner Portrait

Cute Nices & Nephlets

The Wonderful Hubby (who actually sat for the camera! Thank you, Hubby!)

We hit both families for Christmas. With a little unique wrangling that landed us in the airport on Christmas day, we set up Christmas for my parents at their new home in Forest, Virginia, and brought Pete's mom a happy Christmas surprise in Vernon, Connecticut.

All in all, it was a crazy first married Christmas, but we did enjoy the time we spent with our families. OUR Christmas cards won't be going out until June, however, so please don't be offended that you haven't received anything from us as yet. Those of you who sent us gifts, thank you so much! We really appreciated it!

In other random news, we get a five-day weekend for New Year's. *grin* Anything could happen...

Here's hoping you enjoyed your holidays!

Merry Christmas!

2005-12-21T15:53:00.000-05:00

Well, folks, we're dropping out for our Christmas weekend--not as early as we wanted to, but what can we say?

Here's to a White Christmas!

Out of the bosom of the Air.
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent and soft and slow
Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels

This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.

Approaching a Year

2005-12-20T11:03:00.000-05:00

Just thought it'd be fun to compile some favorite pictures from this year. Enjoy!

Fun on a Silver Morning

2005-12-14T09:10:00.000-05:00

It frosted beautifully last night, and we woke this morning to a rose-gold sunrise through the ice etchings on our windowpanes. In a rare event, we arrived at work a few minutes *early* and had time for a few random items.

Today's "Pearls Before Swine" strip: what happens when you get too little sleep (or when you're just plain not paying attention...)

Ever have to put your cat in a carrier before? Check out this morning's uncaged "Get Fuzzy" strip.

Oh, and if you're thinking about dying in Biritiba Miram, Brazil, don't. You might find yourself on the wrong side of the law.

Today's verse of the day, taken out of context with the after-effects of my rather bad day yesterday, was also one of those randomly humorous items that tickled our funny bones:

One man esteemeth one day above another: another esteemeth everyday alike. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.
~Romans 14:5

I am fully persuaded that today is better than yesterday.

Lastly, but definitely not leastly, Pete's coffee run was only to *pay* for yesterday's coffee, but on his trip, he "met Cindy Cha who was eating a veggie sausage and drinking de-fac -- de-caf. Told her I'd circulate a prayer petition in legal for our dear sister who was joining a vegan cult. I also said her hemp coat looked lovely. I'm afraid she laughed so hard she was nigh on tears."

There are times when I think it's just better not to inquire...

Spontaneous Weekends

2005-12-05T16:06:00.000-05:00

This weekend, Pete and I got to experience the joy of the spontaneous.

We didn't start out with any plans for our weekend. Just the usual, "Yay, we don't have to work," and a plan to finish moving my office around before the Free Indeed Concert on Friday evening.

Then I found out that Free Indeed didn't have any decorations. And that my desk wasn't going to be ready to be moved in until Monday. And that no alumni moment had materialized for Free Indeed.

We went to work. As soon as we established that I would not be able to finish cleaning my office, we left to pick up some decorations and door prizes for the concert and the alumni moment. As we were decorating, my cell phone rang. It was theKate, calling to tell us that she and her best friend were going to be coming up to stay the night so they could go Christmas shopping--with their own spontaneous ideas.

"Sure, not a problem! You know you're welcome!"

After the concert, I was talking with Gabe's dad, who mentioned that he would see me on Sunday. Surprised, but not altogether in the dark, I realized that Pete must have told Gabe we would come up with him to see some highlights from Handel's Messiah with his family. While my brain was still wrapping itself around that plan, we were invited to stay for pizza with Free Indeed, which we did. We then topped off the evening with a spur-of-the-moment trip to Magnolia's for dessert and a date.

The next day, I was planning to meet my friend Heidi to talk about weddings (she's engaged now, btw--see my post about my wedding...). On the way home, I called to ask Pete if we could just go out and pick up our Christmas tree that afternoon--so we did, and we took Gabe with us too! We had bought and then returned a tree stand, thinking we wanted to get a fake tree instead of a real tree, so we needed to get another tree stand for our tree, which turned out in the end to be real.

Then we decided at the last minute before returning home from picking up our tree stand to meet up with Kate and Kristi at the Kobe Japanese Steakhouse in Leesburg. Then Kate and Kristi spontaneously stayed another night to help us decorate the tree. While we were decorating, it began to snow.

The next morning, we went to church in Pennsylvania and spent the day with Gabe, his family and our friend Katie. The community performance of the Messiah was worth the trip. It was held in a huge old Methodist church in Carlisle, complete with even more snow.

Sometimes, I suspect we just need spontaneous weekends, to remind us how fun living can be. Ask us about our new memories sometime!

Kate's Take on the Wedding

2005-11-18T15:35:00.000-05:00

http://crownsathisfeet.blogspot.com/2005/10/wedding-one-i-was-gonna-crash-one-that.html

Delightful perspective...

Pride and Prejudice

2005-11-17T15:52:00.000-05:00

So last night, Pete and I watched the new Pride and Prejudice, a movie that had a lot of ground to cover after its previous versions.

Overall, I think I liked it, though with the time constraints, you lost a *lot* in character development. And then there was the slight issue of Elizabeth Bennett adopting the mannerisms of Keira Knightly. While Matthew Macfadyen delivers a very fine Darcy--more mysterious, and more passionate than Colin Firth--Miss Knightly couldn't really pull out of her 20th century self to fit into Austen's era. Donald Sutherland's Mr. Bennett was an affectionate, though badgered country man who dropped his lines out in such an understated fashion you almost wanted him to repeat them to figure out how they fit into the story. Mrs. Bennett was, as usual, annoying, and Kitty and Lydia giggled with the best of them.

I enjoyed the filming, and the sense we gained from the movie of being almost in the room with the story. The distinctions between the Bennetts' society and Darcy's society were much more clearly drawn. With the use of a bit more drama than other versions I have seen, I think the director achieved a flavor of high romance, if he did set propriety at nought for a bit with Lizzie's apparel. I will also admit that I left with a sense of cold and wet, which may have been due to the weather outside last night, but might also be attributed to several scenes filmed in the pouring rain.

I would recommend that you watch this film, but don't expect it to be like any other version you've ever seen. If you accept it as a movie on its own, it does an admirable job of capturing your senses, leaving you with an invitation to continue watching even after the credits start rolling.

Just had to get that out of my system.

Pete's LOTR Character

2005-11-14T17:26:00.000-05:00

Congratulations! You're Pippin!

Which Lord of the Rings character and personality problem are you?

Colorado Memories

2005-11-07T15:55:00.000-05:00

"And I would tell my children, 'Your mother has the wildness of the mountains in her spirit...'"

We were standing, holding each other, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Colorado. On one of our many drives, we had stopped to visit the scenery (and use the outhouse) in Theodore Roosevelt National Forest. As the wind whipped through our hair and I huddled a bit closer to my husband for warmth, he began to share with me the beauty he sees in my heart. I will never forget that moment...

Pete took me to Colorado, the home of my heart, for our honeymoon. We had originally been planning a trip to Europe, but on Valentine's Day, Pete asked me if I wouldn't rather go to Colorado. Such a gift he gave! My first view of the mountains brought tears to my eyes--I didn't know how homesick I had been until I saw them, waiting for me with the red of the setting sun piercing through the blue and gray and green of the clouds resting on the peaks and drifting into the valleys.

We had arrived at the Denver airport in time to catch sight of the snow as we were flying in. While we were waiting for our shuttle, we enjoyed a rather...uh, lengthy kiss that caught the attention of some passers-by in the shuttle across the way. Pete kissed me to the tune of the whistles and hoots of encouragement! We were officially on our honeymoon, and didn't care if the world knew it!

We spent our days resting in the lodge at Estes Park or driving through the mountains--though Pete did cave and take me shopping a few times! I had my camera, and we were able to take a lot of pictures on our drives, a sampling of which I include below! We both agreed that it was the best trip either of us had ever taken--and it wasn't just because we were married, either! We watched lots and LOTS of movies together, but it was so nice to just rest!

So, without further ado, here is a little photo-journal of our trip!

The Happy Couple

(What can we say? We didn't spend time around people to get our picture taken together!!!)

Rocky Mountain National Park

*grin*

The Driver

Aspens

LONG, long ago, so the legend says, when Joseph and Mary and the Holy Babe fled out of Bethlehem into Egypt, they passed through the green wildwood. And flowers and trees and plants bent their heads in reverence. But the proud aspen held its head high and refused even to look at the Holy Babe. In vain the birds sang in the aspen's branches, entreating it to gaze for one moment at the wonderful One; the proud tree still held its head erect in scorn.

Then outspake Mary, his mother. "O aspen tree," she said, "why do you not gaze on the Holy Child? Why do you not bow your head? A star arose at his birth, angels sang his first lullaby, kings and shepherds came to the brightness of his rising; why, then, O aspen, do you refuse to honor your Lord and mine?"

But the aspen could not answer. A strange shivering passed through its stem and along its boughs, which set its leaves a-quivering. It trembled before the Holy Babe.

And so from age to age, even unto this day, the proud aspen shakes and shivers.

Me--STILL with my wedding pimple...

Colorado Elk: It was mating season... ;-)

Looking at me? Or the mountains?

The Hazards of Driveby Shooting...

Plains and Mountains and Sky

If I had my life to live over I'd like to make more mistakes next time. I'd relax. I would limber up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less beans. I would perhaps have more actual trouble, but I'd have fewer imaginary ones. You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly and sanely hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I've had my moments, and if I had to do it over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have. If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dances. I would ride more merry-go-rounds, I would pick more daisies. ~Nadine Stair

St. Ambrose

2005-11-02T09:36:00.000-05:00

Last night, though Pete and I did not go to an All Saint's Day party planned by my boss, my dear husband found a way to make his presence known. After extensive Internet research on the saint assigned to us, St. Ambrose of Milan, he wrote his own comprehensive history.

I present it here for your review:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saint Ambrose: A revised and (the author hopes) more interesting fractured historical account of the Bishop of Milan: his life, ministry, and water ballet skills.

Birth

Saint Ambrose was born. Possibly, though this fact has been argued. 340 is the year which many in the Church believe is the year in which he was born (if at all). Of course, where he was born is a well settled fact. It was in Trier. Or Lyon. Or Arles. Regardless, you now have as much information as I have regarding his birth. It is presumed, though not conclusively documented, that he had a mother; this presumption arises since Mr. Saint Ambrose’s dad was fairly well off and the family could afford one.

Life

Historians enter heated arguments with each other about St. Ambrose’s life, sometimes permitting their rancorous disagreements to spill out into their own personal lives. Their venting often gets them in trouble with their cats, since they frequently yell, “Ambrose’s father was prefect, not perfect!” After these unseemly outbursts, they must usually purchase large quantities of expensive Asian fish with which to placate their offended feline who are terrified by such yelling. The irony, of course, is that Ambrose’s dad doesn’t really enter the picture. He was prefect, but not perfect. His imperfections do not appear to have harmed his prefecture; please disbelieve any fabrications or prefabrications seeking to pierce the fabric of solid truth woven tightly in this hasty history. His father was the prefect of Gaul, to be precise. While perfecting his galling prefecting, he (or rather), his presumed wife, bore three children: Saint Satyrus, Saint Marcellina, and Saint Ambrose. It is often thought that their childhood must have been idyllic, if not heavenly, with such names.

Ambrose was educated in philosophy, in oration, in the classics… and in Rome. He was in Rome because his father, having perfected his prefecting to the point where it could no longer be perfected any further, expired. His family felt Gauled, er, called, to the Eternal City, and continue there for the educational and spiritual benefit of the children. As Ambrose’s academic accomplishments started increasing, so did the number of politicians taking note of his political skills. While some would consider it a shame and disgrace, he decided to enter the legal profession. His oration during legal arguments was so compelling that he was soon sent by Emperor Valentinian to become the consular governor of Liguria and Aemilia. Basic gist: they thought he talked “real perty.” His residence was to be the northern Italian city of Milan. Milan, of course, is the Italian word for “My lawn… no trespassing.”

History recounts Ambrose a kind and gentle leader, which is good, since he, in fact, was kind and gentle. While the consular governor, the bishop of Milan died (prompting the immortal cry, “THERE’S A DEAD BISHOP ON THE LANDIN’!”). * It is interesting to note that at this point in time, Ambrose himself had not yet been baptized into the church, being a catechumen**, another Italian word meaning either “half cat, half human” or “gesunheit.” There was much concern regarding the death of the bishop, namely because of a schism in the faith at the time between the traditional beliefs held by Roman Catholics and beliefs being advocated by followers of Arian (who openly doubted the divinity of Jesus Christ). It was feared by the traditionalists in Milan that an Arian would be appointed to head the church in that city. This fear prompted civil unrest and pleas to the pontiff requesting immediate appointment of a bishop to the Milanese see by papal edict rather than through the usual method of election. Ambrose himself went to the basilica in an attempt to quell the impending violence brought on by the civil unrest. While offering an impassioned plea for unity and peace, the crowd started to call for Ambrose’s appointment to the episcopate! Ambrose, fully realizing his training not equal to the task, promptly did the only thing a self-respecting Frenchman would do. He fled. The crowd, unwilling to accept this as a refusal of their will, chased after him, and announced him their candidate for bishop. Valentinian, knowing Ambrose’s character, approved the Milano’s choice and confirmed his appointment. On December 7, 374, he was baptized and consecrated Bishop of the See of Milan.

Ambrose’s appointment immediately affected his life. He divested himself of his worldly goods (including his collection of “The Gladiators of Gaul” action figures) which prompted his brother, Satyrus, to quit his own job as a prefect and attempt to talk sense into him. Ambrose, however, was more interested in carrying out his ecclesiastical duties than his own physical comforts, and instead accepted Satyrus’ service as administrator of his physical affairs, permitting Ambrose to focus on his own spiritual training.

Ambrose stood firm in doctrine against the assaults of the Arians on the divinity of Christ, wrote liturgical hymns, preached, and, in general did a lot of good things which caused a lot of people in a lot of places to respect him. A lot. He is most famous for his role in the notorious Investiture Controversy, a remarkable achievement, mainly because it occurred 750 years after he died. Because of this, his role was limited, and he is well thought of for not having rendered an inflammatory edict about the matter.

As many people are aware, the Catholic Church and many other denominations practice baptism by sprinkling. Other denominations practice baptism by immersion. While this hasty history seeks not to settle the differences between the two in its short pages, it does wish to point out why Catholics practices baptism by sprinkling.

Ambrose was a Doctor of the Church. There was hardly a man who could have done more in his office, though he considered his life to have been spent doing too little. He titled himself the doctor who “did too little,” and is known as Dr. Doolittle, a self-effacing title and inside joke skillfully crafted into a public relations coup by his personal secretary, Paulinus. About this time, he, along with his friend Saint Monica (the famous “Ragin’ Harmonica” of the Milanese Jazz Scene) began ministering to Augustine, a Hippo. In fact, his masterful communication with Augustine so impressed his associates that his skills in bestiary communication have since become legendary, prompting a recent documentary starring Eddie Murphy in the role of Saint Ambrose’s Doctor Doolittle. Their ministrations to Augustine complete, all that remained was the Hippo’s baptism into the church. When the day came, Augustine, unfortunately, tripped over Ambrose’s miter, and fell into the baptistery, completely soaking himself but sprinkling all the bystanders with the baptistery’s wet contents. To this day, in honor of this kindly bishop and his famous baptizee, the Catholic church practices baptism by sprinkling.

Ambrose faithfully discharged his duties as the Bishop of Milan for 23 years, dying in 397. Despite my ignorant drivel, he remains one of the most respected and revered defenders of the divinity of Christ and of the Church. The basket of Milano cookies are offered for your mutual enjoyment and the memorial of Saint Ambrose, Bishop of Milan.

_______________________________________
*A thousand pardons, I confess to having viewed episodes of Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
** One who is being taught the principles of Christianity. English equivalent is “padawan.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Following the presentation of the document, Pete had supplied the party-goers with nine different varieties of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies.

As for our own evening?

*grin*

We didn't miss the party. We attended a Japanese steakhouse showing of "Flying Knives and Dinner While You Watch" and ended the evening by reading ourselves to sleep.

Weekend Adventures

2005-10-31T15:32:00.000-05:00

Question: What happens when a newly married couple has a house to finish moving into, a bunch of gifts to identify and acknowledge, and grocery shopping to do?

Answer: They skip town.

*grin*

Pete and I trekked into the Holy Land with the crusaders in "Kingdom of Heaven" on Friday night, skipped into the heaths of Wales for "The Return of the Native" on Saturday, and drove into the wilds of Charlotte, North Carolina on Sunday for Mexican. We had a very productive weekend.

First, unless you want to be bored for a non-historical fantasy, don't watch "Kingdom of Heaven." Although, I have to admit, this is the first time I've actually liked Orlando Bloom in a role. Pete and I think it might have something to do with the fact that he was virtually speechless.

Second, the "Return of the Native" is a very depressing movie. But Catherine Zeta-Jones plays her part very well. It's worth seeing, at least once.

Third, North Carolina was just an impulse. So was the hitchhiker we picked up. We took him down to Wytheville with instructions not to travel today because it was Halloween and "kids throw eggs and all kinds of stuff. I wouldn't want to be traveling tomorrow night." He was an interesting character.

We stopped in to see some friends at the B&B where Kate and I stay when I go down to the clinic in North Carolina. We had a delightful conversation, and then proceeded to a Mexican restaurant we found in January when we were all down there. Pete got the street tacos he'd been craving, and I enjoyed yet another chicken chimichanga. I found myself wishing I hadn't snacked quite so much on the drive down. I couldn't fit the food in!

Still, we had a really special time, just driving and talking. With everything that goes on in our lives, it's really easy to let go of the fact that we enjoy talking with one another about what is in our hearts. A sermon at church sparked the discussion, and we went from there into just about everything else. It's been a while since we talked like that, and it was so worth getting home at midnight.

The extra hour this morning was a God-send. I didn't have to get up for work when I normally do, and I was able to wake up in the sunlight again. That always helps.

Honeymoon pics and stories ARE coming--I just need to get them to the office to upload!

Post-Wedding Post

2005-10-24T17:00:00.000-04:00

Our wedding pictures are now out and up at our photographer's website. The password, for anyone who would like to look, is my maiden name, langner. Please note that you can order prints from his website if you are interested!

Also along the lines of wedding reports, I wanted to post our wedding vows and the words to the song that I wrote for Pete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I vow to love the Lord my God, our Abba, with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. I vow to live in the truth that you are His, set apart for the work of Christ in you. Because He laid down His life for me, I vow to lay down my life for you. Because He loved me, I will love you. Because He prayed for me, I will pray for you.

I, Peter Alan Sauer, take you, Kelly Anne Langner, to be my wife. In marrying you, I take new responsibilities that I cannot fulfill in my own strength, but by God's grace and power working within me, I give myself to serve and love you in all circumstances. I will allow God to use you as He forms me in the image of Jesus Christ. I will dwell with you with understanding, and give honor to you as to the weaker vessel, remembering that we are heirs together of the grace of life. I will accept your love and respect. I will go where He calls me to go, and I will lead you in gentle love. I will be humble before you and our Lord, confessing my sins and my failures and trusting in His mercy and your love. I will be faithful to you, holding my body, heart, and thoughts only for you. I will be your friend, giving thanks for you and cherishing you as a treasured gift from my Father. I will share with you my heart, my love, my joy, and my hope in Jesus Christ, from this night until I die.

I, Kelly Anne Langner, take you, Peter Alan Sauer, to be my husband. In marrying you, I take new responsibilities that I cannot fulfill in my own strength, but by God's grace and power working within me, I give myself to serve and love you in all circumstances. I will be submissive to you as Sarah obeyed Abraham as I trust in the Lord. I will accept your love and leadership. I will allow God to use you as He forms me in the image of Jesus Christ. I will follow you where He calls you. I will be humble before you and our Lord, confessing my sins and my failures and trusting in His mercy and your love. I will be faithful to you, holding my body, heart, and thoughts only for you. I will be your friend, giving thanks for you and upholding you as a treasured gift from my Father. I will share with you my heart, my love, my joy, and my hope in Jesus Christ, from this night until I die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Always His
by Kelly Langner and Kirsten Winston

I will share the dawn with you, these first new rays of light.
I will smile and laugh with you on days that aren't so bright.
I want to bring you all the joy I know every day I live
I give my life to you in Him, and we'll be always His.

I will share the moon with you, singing even in the dark.
I will place my hand in yours when the frost has etched its mark.
I want to give you all the love I own every day I live,
I give my life to you in Him, and we'll be always His.

I will hope in Him with you, walk together as His friend.
I'll walk as a stranger too, living for our journey's end.
I want to dream with you of His return every day we live.
I give my life to Him with you, and we'll be always His.

And by God's grace, I give myself to you,
For all my days, I will walk with you.
I'll be your helper, your friend,
With Jesus as my aim and as our end...

I will go with you wherever God may lead
I will walk with you as He provides our needs.
And through the sunrise or the shadows,
When He drives us to our knees.
I will pray with you that we will be always His.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now that most of the excitement is over (with the exception of a reception-to-happen in Connecticut over Thanksgiving), the time has come to revamp this wedding site into something productive. Therefore, I am moving the wedding paraphernalia and discussions (with the exception of one planned post) from my personal blog to this blog as Pete and I attempt to move past the wedding into the moments and the future God has for us. We thought it would be fun to create a site (okay, *I* thought it would be fun to create a site) for updates about what we're up to so that people can check up on us. We may or may not keep it up--there's still something cool about the personal connection, so if you want us to keep updating, COMMENT. *grin*

Honeymoon stories and pictures to come soon!

The Beginning of a Very Fun Story

2005-10-09T18:43:00.000-04:00

Pete: Isn't she beautiful, ladies and gentlemen?
Kelly: No, you are not putting that on here!
Pete: Oh yes I am! And you can't stop me. I'm a husband...

Thus says God the LORD, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread forth the earth and that which comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it, and spirit to those who walk on it: "I, the LORD, have called You in righteousness, and will hold Your hand; I will keep You and give You as a covenant to the people, as a light to the Gentiles, to open blind eyes, to bring out prisoners from the prison, those who sit in darkness from the prison house. I am the LORD, that is My name; and My glory I will not give to another, nor My praise to carved images. Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them."

~Isaiah 42:5-9

In Christ alone...

A Story Not Our Own

2005-08-14T18:43:00.000-04:00

How We Met

Kelly: THIS is a funny story.

Last year, Pete came down to HSLDA to study for his finals with my coworker and his classmate, Vanessa. There was a Valentine's dance sponsored by PHC that year, and Vanessa decided that she wanted Pete to have a date--so she tried to set us up. Me, being the kind of "don't mess with me" person that I can be, put my foot down, being quite aware of the kind of dance it would turn out to be (I was right too!!!), and decided not to go. Besides. I didn't do the blind dating thing. Pete says we met that week, and that God really impacted him about me. I don't even remember his being there.

I figure it was a God thing.

Pete: I was... whew... Wow. "Um, you were hurting like crazy. I remembered you. You gave Dan the 'what-for' on ATI." Kelly came down to the cafeteria for something while I was studying with Vanessa and our friend Dan, and she had her cane with her. I think I asked Nic (Vanessa) why you had the cane, and she told us about Kelly's health problems. I went home, and a couple weeks later, I dropped something out to Dan about remembering Kelly.

My first real memory of Kel is sitting down in my office talking about special needs after I came down to work for HSLDA in May of 2004, and we ended up talking about her grandparents, her health, and my bestest little sister Mary Jo. She invited me to go ice skating with a group she'd put together.

Kelly: I invited him to go ice skating with a group. Ahem. I was so mad at him.

It ended up being just three of us, Pete, me, and another girl, Leeann Bisulca. She didn't know how to skate, so I was helping her, and he just skated off in his own little world. I thought he was so rude! It was okay, though, I guess, because I'd been told that he was looking for a wife. I was avoiding him too!

Pete: But I was very leery of getting into any friendship with a girl! I wasn't looking for a wife--and I didn't even want to be looking for a friend at this point!

Kelly: So much for well-laid plans. I had my own plans that night. I was going to bring Pete out of his shell enough so that I wouldn't feel guilty because he wasn't hanging out with anyone when there was so much social activity going on around him. It backfired on me too. After our skating outing, we went to Starbucks because I was starving and in danger of collapse (a fact I wasn't admitting to anybody!).

We got stuck in the Starbucks after closing time by the DADDY of all thunderstorms. There were police driving up and down and telling people to stay indoors. All I remember is that I was terrified, and so I decided to try to distract myself by conducting a surface grilling of Pete and Leeann (who, I had decided by that time, would make a good couple) that was not related to the weather.

I figured we could stick to a deep topic like the characters we thought we would be if we were in the Lord of the Rings. Pete wouldn't give me a straight answer, and I was ticked, but I was NOT pushing. *grin*

Pete: It served her totally right. She was going at it like Grand Inquisitor Torquemada, calculating each question to deflect attention from herself and find out as much as possible from Leeann and myself. I wasn't going to let her have it. So I told her I saw myself as the Nasghoul (sp?)

Kelly: Nazgul.

Pete: It seemed like the thing to say because (a) I thought at the time that the Nasghoul were the flying thingies with the long tails and loud shrieks. I didn't know they weren't- I just picked the ugliest creature I thought of, and (b) I honestly didn't really like Lord of the Rings enough to remember the characters except for the inebriated dwarf. And I just didn't want to be a sloshed shortie...

Kelly: None of which I knew at the time, and since they are some of my favorite movies ever, it was a good thing I didn't know. Anyway, the evening took a VERY unexpected turn about halfway through our digression into our favorite movies.

Pete: I was getting more and more uncomfortable because God was asking me to talk about what I had spoken with a bunch of friends about: Himself. Specifically, "did you guys ever get the impression from God that something big was going to happen?" I didn't want to ask the question, because it didn't seem surface level enough for the conversation that we were having--besides the fact that I didn't know you guys, and I knew the other people I'd talked to about Him a lot better. Kelly's jaw dropped about 14 feet, and bounced on the ground a few times.

Kelly: I must have gone into shock. For years, I had been begging God for someone who would understand the driving force behind my passion. Ever since I was a little girl, I had believed that something big was coming and that God had something for me to do. He had spent the last three or so years taking me deeper into Himself and His Word than I had ever been before.

Pete: I think at that point in time, Leeann pretty much faded out of the conversation. Kelly agreed that she thought that God was going to be doing something. I don't remember specifically what we talked about, except that you mentioned that the kids that we'd seen at the skating center could be the ones to experience the judgment in the last days. We talked about God, about how we wanted to know Him and seek Him, and about how our preparation for what He was bringing could only come through Scripture.

Kelly: We spent a long time talking about our passion for the Church. That night, after Pete left me at my house, I freaked out.

Pete: To put it mildly.

Kelly: *grin* I emailed several of my guy friends who understood my passion for the church and told them more about it than I ever had before. There was no way I was going anywhere with Pete that I wasn't willing to go with anyone else. Then I went to bed and told God I wasn't going think about it in one breath, and begging for help with another breath. I know, looking back on that night, that God used that conversation to point my heart toward Pete. I was fascinated, and not admitting it.

Pete: I was happy to know that there was someone else who was interested in God, in knowing *Him,* not just about Him. With the exception of Sam, I had never really spoken with a girl who was interested in God before.

On Being Friends

Pete: I think the main idea last summer was about offering ourselves to God and being obedient to what He called us to do. He called both of us to be friends to each other.

Kelly: For me, this was a real challenge. Pete scared me with his passion for the Lord, for the church, and for people. It matched too closely with my passions, and when I added that with the knowledge that I had gained through an attempt to pay him back for some pizza that I couldn't intimidate him, there was no way I was going there. So the day God sat me down during my devotions and asked me if I would be a friend to Pete, and actually allow Pete to be my friend, I looked rather skeptically in His general direction and asked Him why. I got no answer to my whys. Just an overwhelming sense that I should obey. Still, this left me with some serious questions about what to do with it. After some previous experiences, I was not eager to step into a friendship with a guy I barely knew and offer him some sort of validation by being a girlfriend to him. My walls were up so high I didn't know how to climb them anymore, and I was very worried about the possibility that Pete could fall for me. Then God took a step that shocked us both.

Pete: A couple days after the Starbucks incident, I went to North Carolina for my employer, for what is known around the office as the most bombed-out conference of 2004. After getting stopped five minutes into the trip for speeding by an over-zealous Loudoun County Sheriff (with a prejudice against Yankees!), I came to the conclusion that this weekend would not be the most stellar weekend of my life.

Two hours into our seven-hour trip, we discovered that we had forgotten to bring the books that we needed for the conference. After prolonged negotiations with our office (being more stressful and lasting longer than any of the Israeli-Arab peace summits) and after chewing up another hour and half of precious time in said negotiations, it was determined that one of our doomed—er, stalwart—crew would need to head back to Virginia for the books after dropping the rest of us off in North Carolina.

By a very fair and measured process, by which I mean I was the new guy (two weeks on the job), it was determined that I should make the trek back to VA for the books. Fortunately I was met halfway back up, so I only had to travel seven hours that night, instead of fourteen.

The van had no radio reception in the mountains of North Carolina and Virginia, and I had forgotten my MP3 player. I was stuck in the car with God.

Kelly: Oh, yes, very stuck.

Pete: It was a decent trip. We had a good time talking about His creation, and all of a sudden, He got very rude and changed the subject on me.

“She is mine.”

Wha???

That was not very fair of Him. I wasn’t trying to say that she wasn’t. I wasn’t even thinking that she wasn’t. We’d had one conversation. Two. No more than that, I swear! She had impacted me a great deal with her passion for the Lord, with her knowledge of Scripture, and with her genuine relationship with the Lord. Her relationship was not confined to phraseology and practices. It was real. God was a person to her, one with whom you could actually speak, obey, be loved by, and love in return, and be consumed with.

The rest of the conference was something of a blur, though I do remember that at one juncture, Will tried to pay me back for some pizza that he had already tried to pay me back for and I had refused. I found it suspicious that after having rejected his attempt at repaying me once, he should so earnestly attempt to pay me back. After inquiring a bit further as to the sincerity of his desire to be rid of his indebtedness to me in re: pizza, I was informed that the source of the funds was none other than my coworker Kelly.

Kelly: I later found out that Will spent that money on himself. *grin*

Pete: I kept thinking about that conversation with God. What did it mean that she was His? I was not trying to get into a relationship, although I must admit, I had never been so intrigued by the reality of a young woman’s relationship with God.

Kelly: During Pete’s time away, I had a conversation with my girlfriend Ash, in which I mentioned the Starbuck’s incident. Pete’s name came up, and she asked inquisitively, “oh, who’s Pete?”

“Oh, he’s just a new coworker of mine. He came to work at HSLDA after graduation.”

She (wisely) dropped the subject, but I found after we were engaged that she had never forgotten that conversation, and wondered if God would actually do something with it.

Meanwhile, I was just about ready to retreat. God was putting on too much pressure.

Pete: When I got back to Virginia, I asked Kelly if she wanted to get together after work some night and talk about what God was showing me in Psalm 32. Rather than replying with a polite “no thank you” or “perhaps we should do it under supervision,” I received the most interesting email I’ve ever gotten in my life.

Kelly: Sorry!

Pete: It’s okay! I don’t remember much about the email, but I do know that I had accidentally pushed some button that she didn’t want pushed.

Kelly: Had he ever! But he hung with me!

Pete: I truly was not looking for a relationship, nor did I want to give the appearance that I was, and last thing I wanted to do to this precious treasure that God had called His own was drive her away in fear. I decided it would be best to tell her what God had told me, hoping this would assure her that I had no interest in pursuing a relationship with her.

Kelly: When I got his email telling me what God had told him, I burst into tears! I had been so afraid that he was going to fall for me, and here God had gone before me to protect me so I didn’t have to put my own walls up. I cried myself to sleep that night, completely awed at the fact that He would claim me as His own, that He wasn’t ashamed to call me His.

When I shared the story with my parents that weekend, they started praying, unbeknownst to me. Meanwhile, God had given me the impetus to trust Him in my friendship with Pete, so I decided to go out on Him and let Him lead in the friendship, instead of trying to control it myself.

Ask Me For a Sign

Kelly: I spent nine days (that felt like years) in the hospital last summer. Pete and our friend Gabe were there with me and Kate as much as they could be while keeping their fulltime jobs. During that time, God bonded the four of us in a relationship that could only be classified as His. We prayed together, shared what He was doing in our lives, cried together, laughed together (BOY did we laugh!). We scared all the doctors away from my room because every time someone came in we were praying! I wouldn’t have survived those nine days without their constant encouragement and prayers.

Pete: In late August, Kelly stayed a week with some friends from church who informed her that I was in love with her. This was a startlingly new concept for me, considering the fact that the only other hint of love that I had experienced in my life took the form of a foil, saber, or epee. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a relationship, so I wasn’t in love. Simple as that.

Kelly: HA!

Pete: I tucked myself away for about three days with my Bible and kept praying that God would reveal my motives and my heart. I had been very worried, and was very worried, because I know I don’t know my own heart, and I kept praying that my motives would be pure before Him, that His love and not my own would be the love that characterized my relationship with Kel. I knew that she loved me with His love, but at that time, I didn’t want my relationship with her to overshadow my life. I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and I really wanted God to protect her from me as necessary.

Kelly: During this time, God was beginning to heal me from a previous heartbreak. I had made a vow that I would wait for someone, and though I was aware that I was no longer in love with that person, I was not at all interested finding someone else to fill the hole in my heart that relationship had left. God had become my all, and I knew that I needed no one else.

Pete: I am grateful beyond words for the encouragement that Gabe, Kate, and Kelly offered me throughout the summer to seek the Lord first and keep trusting Him. Proverbs 3:5-6 came to typify our individual relationships with God that summer. We might not have had any idea what was going on, but God kept using us in each other’s lives to point us to Himself and to trust the Cross of Christ and not our own hearts, thoughts, minds, etc. The spiritual battles of last summer were so intense and the emotional roller-coasters so stomach churning that it caused me to wonder at times what reality was.

On several occasions, God used Kelly to challenge me specifically in regards to my motives and focus. Had she not encouraged me to know that God was ever-merciful and always longing to forgive and love me, I seriously doubt I would have continued seeking Him. There were some days where I just wanted to give it up, but God kept urging me to trust Him. As weird as it seemed to have a group of friends that didn’t know one day to the next what God was doing, it was amazing to see how He revealed Himself to us through each other, not for our glory, but for His.

It became commonplace for God to ask one of us to do something, i.e. pray for each other in the middle of the night, intercede for each other under spiritual attack, share something with each other from His Word, or confront each other as God led. He taught me to trust Him first, even if I did not understand where on earth He was leading, even if it made absolutely no sense to me.

Immediately before school started, God asked me if I was willing to be Kelly’s friend, no matter what.

“Sure,” I blithely replied.

“No matter what?”

This exchange continued for quite a while, until I got the point that this was serious.

“Like, what ‘what’ is ‘no matter what’?” I asked.

He brought a series of what-ifs to mind, each one more difficult to accept than the previous. I finally told God that if it was what He wanted, I would have to trust that He would be glorified in it and I would be Kelly’s friend no matter what happened.

Kelly: THEN the unthinkable happened. I was NOT ready for it, but God wasn’t waiting on *my* timing. He was talking to Pete.

Pete: In September, I was most surprised—no a better word would be flabbergasted—by the following conversation with God:

I was driving home from my parents’ house, and after one of our usual conversations tending toward “God I don’t really know what You’re doing, but I want to do what You want, so please help me trust You with it,” He asked me to ask Him for Kelly.

There wasn’t really much difficulty understanding what He meant by “ask Him.” I knew He meant marriage, and I couldn’t believe He’d have the gall to bring something like that up. I didn’t want to get married. I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I was in school, she didn’t like me that way, I didn’t like her that way, and give me five minutes and I’ll be able to come up with about 20 other reasons why not.

He was somewhat insistent on it—not demanding. Just the way that God’s Spirit is, tugging, “Ask Me.” I flatly refused, citing the fact that “God you don’t do things like that. You don’t tell people to ask You for things. That’s absurd. I’ll show you.”

Then I opened my Bible. “Don’t tempt the Lord,” was the passage that I was looking for.

Moreover the LORD spoke again to Ahaz, saying, “Ask a sign for yourself from the LORD your God; ask it either in the depth or in the height above.” But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, nor will I test the LORD!” Then he said, “Hear now, O house of David! Is it a small thing for you to weary men, but will you weary my God also? Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:10-14)

Basically, the protestation not to tempt God was an excuse to God’s specific command to ask Him for a sign. And what did God ultimately do? He gave us one of the clearest prophecies of the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

I didn’t know what to do with this. I remember thinking that this might be from Satan, but I knew that if it was from God, He wouldn’t let it rest, and I knew that if it wasn’t from God, I could at least ask God for it through faith in Jesus Christ and hope it went away.

So I bowed my head and mumbled something to the effect of, “God, I’m asking You for Kelly.”

And tried to go to bed.

“That’s not what I asked,” He replied.

All told, it took me two hours to finally get around to saying, “God, I’m scared, and I don’t know why You’re asking me to do this, but please give Kelly to me to be my wife.”

You might find this odd, because at this point in time, I didn’t think I was in love with her anyway.

I fell in love with Kelly the next day.

Kelly: As Pete told me about his encounter with God, he began to realize that he was in love with me, and I sat here, wondering what in the world was going on. I certainly didn’t return his feelings, though I had to admit that even at that point, the last I wanted was for Pete to walk out of my life.

I was faced with a choice to continue obeying the Lord in being Pete’s friend and allowing him to be just my friend, even though I knew his feelings were much deeper my own. I remember getting *very* quiet. I didn’t discount his story, because I had had a similar encounter with the Lord a few years earlier when I wouldn’t surrender someone to Him to do with as He would. Pete’s argument that God didn’t ask people to ask Him for things wouldn’t have held water with me anyway.

Pete: In the meantime, God kept reminding me that she was His. I was not free to pursue her, even though I was falling in love with her, and quite honestly I didn’t want to! I kept trying to tell myself I couldn’t be in love with her because I was still in school. Kel demonstrated true love. She never rejected this. She went to God with it, and she encouraged me and prayed that I would seek the Lord about this as well.

Kelly: During that fall, Pete never pursued me. He was a very faithful friend, even though it was obvious that he was struggling. Often he would look away in pain or hold himself from sharing or saying something because he knew that I wasn’t ready and God hadn’t given him leave to pursue me. The ball, I knew, was in my court, and until I got some time with God, I wasn’t picking it up.

November came, and with it Thanksgiving. Pete planned on spending his Thanksgiving at home, and Kate and I were taking off for Appomattox to spend it with our family. I missed him WAY too much. The day after Thanksgiving, I called him and told him so.

He replied with an encouragement the Lord had given him over a very cool drive into the airport.

Pete: Surrounded by a thunderstorm and clouds floating in front of a very brilliant moon, I was reminded that I could only trust God with today, with what I have today. I told God I couldn’t go on, couldn’t keep doing this every day for the rest of my life. God asked me to just trust Him for today.

Kelly: Today. Today I could do. I had trusted God with yesterday, and He’d been faithful. Looking back now, I can see His gentle hand opening my heart, little bit by little bit. That Thanksgiving, He began to teach me again about thanking Him.

A *VERY* New Year

Christmas brought changes neither of us expected.

Kelly: The night of the Free Indeed concert (Free Indeed being the group that I founded and co-led with Gabe), Pete bought me a gift. It was a simple gift, just a friendship gift from a friend whose love language is gifts. He had given me things before, and I had accepted them without thought. When I opened the lighthouse necklace, however, my heart did something it had never done before. I knew I was going to have to think about it later, but I was waiting until I had some time.

I wore the necklace that night for the concert.

Pete: I was driving home. Kelly called. In a conversation about forgiveness in which she shared with me her struggle to forgive someone and have nothing left to owe him but love, I asked her to forgive him. I was driving up in the middle of a nor’easter, and stopped at a Subway in the pouring rain. Somewhere in Podunkville, Pennsylvania, it struck me that I wanted to marry Kel. That’s basically as far as the thought got, because what hit me next was the irony of my comment to God that summer after He asked me to ask for Kel, when I said I wasn’t interested in getting married, I didn’t want to get married—and here I was, thinking that I wanted to marry my best friend, the person He had used time and time again to point me to Himself. My bestest buddy.

Kelly: Awh. By the way, the run-on there was his. :-D

Pete: I emailed Kel from my sister’s home that night in regard to several conversations that we had had.

Kelly: The next morning, I was more thrilled than I should have been for where I was confessing to be about our friendship to find his missive in my inbox. His words encouraged me to take the step the Lord had been asking of me in forgiving the person who had hurt me before. He told me that he was extremely proud of me for being courageous enough to forgive, and he was probably going to be considered insane to encourage the woman he was in love with to make amends in a previous relationship. He closed his letter with an “I love you.”

I knew that the love he was offering was a friendship love, though I also knew wanted more. But he hadn’t asked, and I knew he wouldn’t unless God led him to.

Pete: And I also knew that was something that God had to do in Kelly’s heart.

Kelly: The next evening Pete was confronted about his email to me, specifically about his inappropriate relationship with a young woman. As I was the young woman in question, I thought I would shatter. Three years before, I had been confronted in a similar fashion over an email I had written about the young man that I was in love with. I felt like I was reliving that pain, and was certain that it would be only a matter of time before Pete caved to the pressure and walked away.

Pete: For me, it was a struggle between being her friend as God had led me, trying not to live out my love for her, still struggling with why God would ask me to ask Him for her, and praying that I would see her again. I was terrified that she was going to run away. I was also scared that I had misunderstood God and was only seeking what I thought was best.

Kelly: THAT was also the night that my parents had sat me down to express their concerns about my commitment to the Lord regarding my previous relationship. I called Pete, because I didn’t know who else I could talk to about it, to be met with his explanation of what had happened on his end. I had never heard someone so determined not to hate. He wasn’t angry, but deeply wounded by those he loved more than his own life. His heart was on the altar, and I knew he was losing it all because God had asked him to be my friend. God was leading him to obey Him in that commitment.

I hung up the phone that night and I knew in my heart that Pete was a man. I also knew that he was a man after God’s own heart. It had been a while since I had considered my prayer for such a man, but God brought it to mind that night in regard to Pete. Again, I set it aside to wait until I got to Tappahannock, where I would be spending a few days over the New Year.

Before I left my parents’ home, I shared what had happened to Pete with my parents. I remember my dad’s soft look as I told him how much I respected Pete. I think he knew then what I would soon find out for myself.

Pete: I asked Dad for help. I explained that God had called me to be Kelly’s friend, but I was terrified of stepping over that boundary, and I didn’t know if I already had. He agreed to help keep me accountable. That same night, Kel called me from Tappahannock.

Kelly: I wasted my first day at the bed and breakfast in Tappahannock. I didn’t want to admit to God that I was feeling these things. I was, after all, still bound to my own commitment to another whom I didn’t love. It served me right. I didn’t want to hear Him tell me I couldn’t love Pete. And I didn’t want Him to tell me I could! I was terrified.

The next day, however, I had a two-hour conversation with, Esther, my friend from England. She asked me some *very* pointed questions, which I answered without thinking about. I couldn’t escape them, though, and as the day wore on, I found myself trying to dodge them. I decided that I was going to rent some movies, only to discover that there was no VCR at the bed and breakfast. Desperate, I went into town to rent a VCR. There were none to be found. Finally, I went to Walmart and bought one.

It was too late. God had gotten through. On the way home, He asked me what I really wanted.

“Oh no, God. I’m not going there.”

I can be very stubborn.

“What do you want, Kelly?”

He can be more stubborn.

We kept this up (a bit longer than two hours) until I finally explained to Him exactly what I wanted.

“God, I want to love Pete, all right? I want him to be the father of my children, to be the one that I get into fights over the dishpan with, the face I wake up to in the morning, the voice I hear for the rest of my life. I want him to be my husband. I want to accept his love, and I want to love him in return!”

I was a bit frustrated with God for dragging it out of me. I’d been so good.

I didn’t know what to do once it came out. I bounced from one side of my bedroom to the other, pacing, freaking, trying to figure out what in the world had just happened. I thought about calling Kate, about calling the guy in the other relationship, and finally settled on calling my parents. I heard rumors that Dad spent most of the next day humming around the house. Mom said she’d never seen him so happy.

*wry grin*

My next step was calling Pete. He didn’t answer. I left a message.

Pete: I still have it on my phone.

Kelly: I KNEW I was going to POP.

I put my movie in and enjoyed (thoroughly enjoyed, I might add) the “Princess Diaries II.”

It had just finished when my cell phone rang.

Pete asked me what was up, and I started with, “Um, what would you do if God didn’t bring me to Tappahannock to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?”

Pete: That was the “logical” conclusion I had reached before I went home for Christmas.

I said, “what?” And she repeated herself. I queried for more information, “What are you saying, exactly?”

She hemmed and hawed for a bit, and then came out with, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I fell into a snowbank at that point, for the record.

Kelly: You didn’t!

Pete: I did! It was one of those things where I went, “Ah….!!!” And fell backwards into a snowbank.

Six and a half hours later, we hung up. It was 4:30 on the morning of December 31st. I, of course, wanted to do what any self-respecting, manly 23-year-old guy would do—I went and got my mommy up.

Mom was intent on praying about it, which she did with me, and my parents promised to continue. I called Kelly’s dad from an Exxon station in Nuagola, Pennsylvania.

The Proposal from Kelly's Perspective

Our New Address

2005-05-23T10:33:00.000-04:00

We know it! God gave us a beautiful place to rent after we get married in October, and we have an address! It's perfect!

Picture this: You pull into your very own tree-lined driveway and find yourself in another world as you approach the gray/brown-sided house that used to be a barn. You park in your own garage (a carport created from a section of the barn) and climb the steps in the shade of the woods to open the door to what will be your very own house. If you look to the left, you can see the pool that the landlords said you could use for swimming (perfect for Kelly, who can only exercise in a pool!)

When you walk in the door, you see steps that have an oak finish circling up to the second floor on your left. To your right is a kitchen with dark green counters and cupboards with a light finish, complete with new appliances . Through the kitchen, you can see a dining room with two windows that opens into a cozy living room done in white and taupe that has another window! There is a gas fireplace in the living room, and all of the floors on the lower level are hardwood.

If you go to the left when you walk in the door and take the curving stairs up to the second floor, you find a full bathroom at to the right that has a tub that is low enough for Kelly to get into without a problem. Just outside the bathroom is the stackable washer/dryer combination. Directly ahead of you is the room that we will use for our bedroom, a room that has two windows that face east, so we can watch the sunrise! If you go to your right, there is another room with two windows that we are going to use as a study so Pete can have a place to do his work. This one has an interesting shape, with a small alcove as you walk in the door that opens up to a full room as you round the corner. The upstairs rooms have white berber carpeting and closets and extra storage in cubbies behind the walls.

Kelly: It's totally a God thing. Do you ever get the feeling that He has just blessed you beyond belief? I mean... I struggle so much believing that He would actually give me things I desire that I couldn't even ask Him for this, and yet... It's more perfect than I could have imagined, right down to the tub and the use of the pool! I didn't do anything to deserve this... didn't trust Him, didn't dare hope... But He is so good anyway. I get so caught up with trying to deserve what He gives, that I don't know how to be blessed or how to accept His gifts. But first He gives me Pete, now this house... My heart is opening with excitement--what is He going to do next?

Pete: I tried talking to God about it. I can't think of what to say other than "Wow" and "Thank you."

Our new address as of September (when Kelly moves in) will be:

36810 Stone Meadow Lane
Purcellville, VA 20132

Wedding Party

2005-05-12T08:06:00.000-04:00

Our wedding party is an eclectic group of people who, for some seriously demented reason or another, actually LIKE us, and even claim to LOVE us, which seems unbelievable, except for the number of times they have proved it.

Seriously, though, there were so many people we wanted to ask to be a part of our wedding, but costs and practicalities run high at these things, so we had to limit ourselves. Thank you to all of you for your love and support for us, and for being willing to stand up with us, however embarrassing it may turn out to be!

(Kelly: Yes, you should take that as a warning!)

Here are the chosen.

Pete: Picture little green aliens... "Oooooohhh.... You have been chosen...."
Kelly: It won't be THAT bad.

Maid of Honor :
Kate Langner (who won't be walking the aisle without a miracle that turns her into Cinderella which, to Kelly's chagrin, is NOT likely in the next millienium. DARN for Prince Charming.)

UPDATE: It happened. She is now walking the aisle, hurray!

Bridesmaids:
Joli Chism
Christy Du Mee
Leeann Walker
April Quarto
Ashley Trim

Best Man:
Alan Sauer (Pete's dad. In case you were wondering.)

Groomsmen:
Courtney Canfijn
Gabriel JOHN Waddell
Fred Spielman
Corey McLaughlin
Joseph Moss

(How's THAT for an ethnic round-up?)

Pete: You forgot a large Atlantic Cod named Phil "Braintree, Massachusetts" Bankhead.
Kelly: THAT would be Prince Charming.

All in all, it appears to work out to twelve people who will be standing at the front with the couple. Who knows, though. Anything could happen.

And then there are the ushers...

Daniel Mitchell
Joshua Langner
Joel Langner
William Estrada

Welcome aboard, guys!

Twelfth Night: Custody of "The Platter"

2005-01-12T09:32:00.000-05:00

On Monday night, Pete and I hosted our first annual Twelfth Night party. Being newly married, we understand the importance of creating our own family traditions, and since all of our other holidays were booked, we decided to create a Twelfth Night celebration--a few days late.

The invitation email went out the day of the party and read:

A Cock-Eyed (er... Cockney) Evening

Most of you know about and have been looking forward to our joint jewellry this evening.

For dinner and treats, we'll be serving wig with eyes on feet with head, followed by a dessert fondue made of stairs. To avoid wife, we'll avoid the missis, horse, and watch.

Come meet Road at Soap tonight, seven-o-clock on the nose.

If you expect to gain any idea from this email of what is going on tonight for our "Un-Twelfth Night Party", just be aware that you may all expect anything.

Our house. 7:00. Be there. (Click here for directions)

Your somewhat sincere, albeit well-meaning hosts,

~Pete-n-Kelly~
P.S. translation below...

Most of you know, and have been looking forward to our joint tom-foolery this evening.

For dinner and treats, we'll be serving syrup of figs with mince pies on plates of meat with a loaf of bread, followed by a dessert fondue made of apples and pears. To avoid trouble and strife, we'll avoid cheese and kisses, bottle of sauce, and bottle of Scotch.

Come meet Frog and Toad at Cape of Good Hope tonight, seven-o-clock on the nose.

(Pete has this really great new book of total randomnity... :-D)

At 7:00pm, as scheduled, the party commenced.

We played a few rousing rounds of Catch-Phrase, in which we learned that girls know nothing about sports, boys are very loud, Gabe is very particular about particulars, and Vanessa believes there is a Seattle baseball team called the Seattle Sea Lions. Chris is terrified of the buzzer, and Katie holds the record for the most buzzes.

After that, it was on to a short name game in which we experienced imitations of such random characters as Scott Somerville, Spartacus, and Zelda the Warrior Princess. I think.

Then it was on to the evening's real entertainment: "Family Court:" A custody battle between the newly-freed Katie and John Caleb, who just finished their second-year finals. The battle? Who should *not* gain custody of "The Platter."

Since pictures are worth a thousand words, we'll let them tell the story.

Gabe, counsel for Plaintiff Katie Schlaak, kept ticking off Judge Random. This had some rather nasty consequences.

Examining "The Platter" that Plaintiff Katie was "too feminine" to own.

Plaintiff Katie--Does that laughter look a bit horrified to you?

Defense Counsel Will stands up to object to Expert Witness Abigail's testimony. "The fact that there is no pink on that platter is no reason that my client should be the one to have custody!"

Defendants could not keep straight faces. It seriously affected their credibility.

Defense Counsel insulted Bailiff Vanessa, who had to be restrained by a higher authority. The offense? Will's sea lion imitation: "ARP, ARP!

Expert Witness Abigail--zany femininity personified. "The Rose always helps!"

Or not.

Defense Counsel had serious trouble being serious for his closing arguments. Which were already closed because Defense had rested by the time the Plaintiffs presented their first witness.

Judge Random, now Witness Random, had some trouble staying awake to be sworn in by Bailiff. (Please note that CD case is not a Bible.)

The evidence of Defendant JC's insanity: A can-opener and rubber gloves, brought onto the premises on Defendant's person.

Judge Random would not allow the evidence to be admitted.

Objection! Intimidation of Counsel!

"Very well. We shall prove which one of you deserves custody of 'The Platter.' Cut it in half, and we shall see who the real owner is!"

Abigail was the real owner.

They couldn't believe it! Witness Abigail's amazing generosity stunned Vanessa.

And Chris.

All agreed: it was an extremely fun party.

And who knows where "The Platter" will end up next?

Directions to Our Place

2005-01-09T13:53:00.000-05:00

Follow Main Street (Business 7) through Purcellville toward Round Hill until you're almost out of town.

Turn left at the 7/11 onto Rt. 690S.

Follow 690 South to Colchester Road and turn left onto Colchester.

When you reach the STOP sign at Telegraph Springs Road, turn left again onto Telegraph Springs.

Turn right at Stonemeadow Lane.

Our downhill driveway is the fourth driveway on the left, marked by a smallish black mailbox with 36810 on it.

If you need help, call us at (703) 727-4220 or (703) 297-6059.