>Once said a wise man. Named Chris. We talked about this concept shortly after getting engaged. I had told him that I have a tendency to spin out of balance at times (as if he hadn’t noticed), and I requested that he feel free to offer me reality checks from time to time during this planning process. I will, after all, be working a full-time teaching job, attending graduate school classes two nights a week in Dallas, and planning a wedding for the first (and only) time in my life. That has “anti-anxiety” medication written all over it. But I do not want to get to that point. I told him last night, in fact, that I thought we should designate a specified amount of time when we are together to discussing wedding plans/details so that it does not become the all-consuming topic of our lives until March 20th has come and gone. He thought that might be a good idea. We went to hear/see the Trans Siberian Orchestra last night at the American Airlines Center, and while we were waiting for the show to begin, I said, “Okay. I need 10 minutes of wedding conversation.” He laughed and granted me the time. So far, we are doing well.

After the show, we tried to go visit the “Wall of Cheese” at Central Market. We like to go there every couple of months and pick out some heretofore-untasted cheeses from around the world, a new bottle of wine, some prosciutto, nice olives, and some bread or crackers to have a gourmet picnic. Central Market, however, was closed down, and we were forced across the street to the Tom Thumb. They had a “kiosk island” of cheese that was pretty much underwhelming, but their wine selection was better than average. So, we had some brie, mozzarella cheese sticks, prosciutto, Shiraz and dark chocolate to finish it off. And we headed back to Chris’ house to view the work he had done all day yesterday on our web site. He had discovered some blogging tools that he could embed in the website, so he wanted me to choose which one I liked best. Clearly, “Movable Type” has won my favor. I am going to try and write here at least weekly until the wedding; however, I figure it will be my primary narrative therapy, so you might check in more than weekly to see what’s shakin’.

I need to tell this funny story of our second trip to Marshall this past week. I went alone on Saturday December 22nd, and Chris came down on Christmas Eve. Every time we go to Marshall together, he always likes to stop in Wills Point at the Robertson’s because they have the best beef jerky, AND they sell it by the pound. So, he had stopped there on his way Christmas Eve but had consumed the entire stock. So, when we were going back together on December 26th, he needed another fix. I needed fuel and a ham sandwich, so we pulled off I-20 at Exit #516. Which has now become a hilarious engagement memory.

The sweet ladies behind the counter were the first strangers with whom I had come in contact since Chris proposed, and while I was paying for the gas (which I pumped on an old-fashioned analog pump which only calculates your total in 1/2 gallons — to this quirk I attribute the fact that I overran the tank and dumped probably a half-gallon of gas on the ground!), I blurted out, “We’re getting married!” The women all smiled and said, “Well, congratulations, let’s see your ring!” Anyhow, then we began to talk about the world’s coolest proposal, and they were all “ooh” and “aah,” and this tall, older gentleman behind the counter says in a big, gruff voice, “It’s fellas like YOU that make it real hard on the rest of us!” How funny is that? He was Papaw. Thank goodness for Papaw, though, because traffic was at a standstill on I-20 East, and he helped us to navigate the way-back roads to get back on I-20 past the horrible vehicle accident that was holding things up. And we think we saw his house back there. How do we know. ‘Cause it said “Mamaw & Papaw’s” right there in front! I love it.

I miss life in the country sometimes.