Happy Fullaversary

Tomorrow is our anniversary...one year ago tomorrow we were buried in snow and setting the table for 23 of our closest friends (who even knew we had that many!!??) to join us at dinner and a little nuptial ceremony...complete with a ceremony performed by a stranger of an officiant after our original officiant called us 6 days before the wedding to let us know he was in the hospital with pneumonia. And who the heck wouldn't have pneumonia with all the snow we had last year. Enough snow, as I recall, for us to give up on our heroic but tiny snowblower and call in the big guns - the big guns being our neighbour Floyd. He has a very big tractor. Last year when we needed him we'd stand on the back porch when he was plowing the driveway next door and wave a 6 pack of Canadian at him. I shit you not. He'd tractor over in a jiffy, clear our driveway, and we'd hand him his 6 pack reward, and he'd place it in the tractor cab at his feet, right next to the 12 pack of mostly empty bottles already at his feet. Seems that drinkin and drivin don't apply to tractors in these here parts. Hey, a man has to keep warm! We have yet to use Floyd's "services" yet this year, but will soon stock a pile of "Can-eh-deens" in our basement for when the need arises.

So as I reflect fondly back on last year, and look miserably outside and resign myself to a green (well, kind of dead-grass-brown) christmas, I think of all the wonderful things we've made happen in the past year, and must spend a moment, on the occasion of our anniversary, to sing the praises of my man. (That was a lot of commas in one sentence!)

I have the best husband in the world. Now y'all probably think your hubby is the best (if you have one) but I just want to let you know that mine rocks. He's been my hero for the past year, taking care of me (not being over protective at all...) when I was pregnant, supporting me beyond all expectations during Griffin's birth, working like a fiend day and night so the bank doesn't take our house away, and then coming home to change babies in the middle of the night, and all the while (well...most of the time) with a smile on his face. He cooks, he cleans (when I ask him nicely), he runs the dog and cleans up dog vomit when necessary. He plants trees, chops trees, carries groceries and all things heavy in general. He sings to babies, sings to me, and even to the dog if prompted (or even without prompting.) He does the dishes. All of them. He is my hero!

My love, I know I haven't been the easiest person to love these days

("NO!"

You're saying to yourself.

"THATS NOT TRUE!"

OK...maybe you're not actually saying that)

And I appreciate the fact that you continue to do so with vim and fervor (and song.) This past year has been everything I dreamed it could be with a little bit more thrown in for extra measure. I love you. I love you as a husband, I love you as the father of our son. And as the Master of our dog, because let's face it, he doesn't listen to me for shit. I look forward to the rest of forever. Happy Silver Platter Year Number 1!

xoxox

P.S. Sorry for the crazy lately. Hey, it could be worse - at least I'm not out shopping for paper towel dispensers!