It was a busy weekend at Casa Megan. (Chris's) Family dinner on Friday, (Megan's) family dinner on Saturday, Superbowl on Sunday.
The hours were also filled with the predictable and prerequisite workouts, trips to the golf store and grocery, laundry, and daydreaming of all the things the future holds.
Chris and I are in that awkward relationship moment when we aren't married, we don't have kids, and we are already moved into the house with the yard and dog. For quite a while now.
We often look across the room at each other on Saturday afternoons and think, "there has to be more than this." More than just a boyfriend and a girlfriend and a big house full of too many boring grownup possessions.
We know the missing piece has ten tiny toes and ten tiny fingers.
But since that's a really serious lifetime commitment, for now we doddle and tinker and bicker and do aimless things like shop online and reorganize garages and pantries.
After a full week of anticipation, this box finally arrived on Saturday and it sent me running into the house for a scissors to tear into it with.
Inside were precious contents. Paraben free contents. If that sort of thing tickles your intrigue, then be sure to checkout Abe's Market. While many of the items are available at Whole Foods or the Co-Op, internet shopping practically guarantees a discount code of some kind. So I snagged shave cream, deodorant, and the most awesome Vicks-esque stuff called campor. I mist the inside of the humidifier before bed and I feel clear in the morning and my sheets aren't muddled in scary petroleum grossness.
I was disappointed to strike out in the herbs department. The hope had been an enormous basil plant and a rosemary topiary, but that's fine because lord knows I can't get a usable herb to grow in the herb garden much less a kitchen window in the dead of winter.
Instead, I found these darling clay pots rimmed in silver and distressed enough to sport some real Euro flavor. Like sheep on the countryside and lavender fields as a backdrop for crusty bread and red wine.
They were charming and a fiscal ripoff originally, but an acceptable amount on clearance. My one regret is only buying three for myself and not picking up the rest to fill for fiends as gifts come spring and summer. Nothing says I Love You, Pal, like a fabulous pot full of mojito making spearmint.
You can never go wrong with succulents and even if you neglect them, they'll still give you a good amount of life and green before joining the English Ivies and ferns in Houseplant Heaven.
I love Sunday nights for their quiet nature: I love Sunday nights because it's like getting to hit Restart on the computer and the week can begin clean, fresh, organized and uncluttered. With Sunday night comes a sense of satisfaction for what was accomplished and an anticipation for what's yet to come.
We may not have babies, but we have succulents and gleaming countertops. Here's to hoping the weekend found your time blooming with goodness.
The hours were also filled with the predictable and prerequisite workouts, trips to the golf store and grocery, laundry, and daydreaming of all the things the future holds.
Chris and I are in that awkward relationship moment when we aren't married, we don't have kids, and we are already moved into the house with the yard and dog. For quite a while now.
We often look across the room at each other on Saturday afternoons and think, "there has to be more than this." More than just a boyfriend and a girlfriend and a big house full of too many boring grownup possessions.
We know the missing piece has ten tiny toes and ten tiny fingers.
But since that's a really serious lifetime commitment, for now we doddle and tinker and bicker and do aimless things like shop online and reorganize garages and pantries.
After a full week of anticipation, this box finally arrived on Saturday and it sent me running into the house for a scissors to tear into it with.
Inside were precious contents. Paraben free contents. If that sort of thing tickles your intrigue, then be sure to checkout Abe's Market. While many of the items are available at Whole Foods or the Co-Op, internet shopping practically guarantees a discount code of some kind. So I snagged shave cream, deodorant, and the most awesome Vicks-esque stuff called campor. I mist the inside of the humidifier before bed and I feel clear in the morning and my sheets aren't muddled in scary petroleum grossness.
The green theme continued on Sunday when a rare occurrence of Spring Fever struck me. I generally adore winter and swallow enough D3 and fish oil to keep the Winter Blahs away. But for whatever reason, the greenhouse and its between seasons destitution whispered into my ear to come inside.
I was disappointed to strike out in the herbs department. The hope had been an enormous basil plant and a rosemary topiary, but that's fine because lord knows I can't get a usable herb to grow in the herb garden much less a kitchen window in the dead of winter. Instead, I found these darling clay pots rimmed in silver and distressed enough to sport some real Euro flavor. Like sheep on the countryside and lavender fields as a backdrop for crusty bread and red wine.
They were charming and a fiscal ripoff originally, but an acceptable amount on clearance. My one regret is only buying three for myself and not picking up the rest to fill for fiends as gifts come spring and summer. Nothing says I Love You, Pal, like a fabulous pot full of mojito making spearmint.
You can never go wrong with succulents and even if you neglect them, they'll still give you a good amount of life and green before joining the English Ivies and ferns in Houseplant Heaven.
I love Sunday nights for their quiet nature: I love Sunday nights because it's like getting to hit Restart on the computer and the week can begin clean, fresh, organized and uncluttered. With Sunday night comes a sense of satisfaction for what was accomplished and an anticipation for what's yet to come.
We may not have babies, but we have succulents and gleaming countertops. Here's to hoping the weekend found your time blooming with goodness.
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