mystery trip

For our anniversary, Mr. F kidnapped me this last weekend and took me to Savannah, a city we both absolutely fell in love with last summer.  We popped in and out of shops, lingered in squares dripping with spanish moss, and walked for as long as we could.  Then we popped by Paula Deen's restaurant, gorged ourselves on butter, then walked some more.  There's something so magical about Savannah.  It's like stepping back in time and experiencing the American South as I've always imagined it.  A glass of lemonade or sweet tea seem like essentials, along with rocking chairs and sundresses.  I daydreamed of future gardens and got ideas for our current "patio" space, included a lush potted garden. We enjoyed the memories of Cyprus conjured by bougainvilleas dotting the city.

My favorite part of the weekend was two whole, uninterrupted days of time with Mr. F.  No work, no phone calls, no GMAT books, no tutors, no Etsy shops, no paintbrushes or moving boxes.  Just the two of us.  Lots of talking followed by quiet moments followed by raucous laughter and my favorite pair of smiling blue eyes.  It was a wonderful surprise and the perfect way to celebrate us!

now we're cookin'

I woke up earlier than usual this morning.  No reason.  Just awake.  I slid out of bed and let Mr. F sleep a little longer.  I sat out on the sofa and just enjoyed the morning before turning to the kitchen and making breakfast for my husband.  Not a normal occurrence, but anniversaries deserve something special.  Or at least a steaming pan of baked oatmeal.  Just as I got the oatmeal in the oven, a groggy Mr. F stumbled into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around me, and whispered into the nape of my neck, "Happy Anniversary."  It was like magic.  The magic of first meeting, first holding hands, first kissing.  All of it.  But better.  Because this wasn't a first.  

It's our third.  

"Happy Anniversary," I whispered back before he kissed me for the gajillionth time.  "I love you."