marriage and moving

love story, part two


As I mentioned last week, we were engaged for all of four days before we said “I do”. Two years ago after work on Friday, Husband and I and a couple of friends (one of whom just happened to be a licensed minister, thank you internet) drove to the courthouse to do a little paperwork. Very romantic. Even though it wasn’t a “real” wedding and our families weren’t there and my dress was only $10, it was the beginning of a real marriage and we wanted to do it right.


The Reverend (as he likes to be called) wrote some precious vows for us and had some great words to say to us as we stood in front of the construction zone outside of the courthouse. The beeping of the backhoe was a little distracting but I guess we said the right words and signed the right lines because they gave us a certificate and I got a new last name.

Later than night, we had a great dinner with friends. We were expecting about 10 but closer to 50 showed up to celebrate. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more loved or supported. Except maybe on our wedding day. Funny how that turned out. I expected all of the love to be between Husband and I but the support and joy of our friends and family was so precious and meant so much more to me than I thought it would.

Anyway, we took over the restaurant and Husband and I started our life together. I should clarify: we started it with same last name. The togetherness would take some time. Soon after the day, Husband had to leave for a month while I stayed in our tiny apartment with no furniture. Which did not go over well with me at the time (I’ve since mellowed out about separation and lack of couches and beds). Fairly sure Husband was having some serious doubts about the crazy person he married.


After that came a ton of work stress, a Celiac diagnosis and surgery 4 days before our wedding (more on that later), and a TON of moving. Naturally our time schedules were off just enough to prohibit us moving together so I’d have to fly ahead and stay in a hotel while Husband packed up the apartment and drove the little Budget truck a month later. Or the other way around. In those 8 months we had every combination of moving possible and we have pretty much perfected the art of packing and unpacking. I think I can re-assemble our entire house in 4 hours flat.

When the dust settled a year later, we had to drive around the country again to put the pieces of our little family back together. I think we had one car in Washington, one in Texas, the dogs in Illinois, half our boxes in Montana and Minnesota, and I have no idea where our couch was but some nice guys with a big truck dropped it off with all of our other stuff. After a full first year of marriage on the move, our second year was a piece of cake. Finally, we have settled in Florida (for the time being) and have actually bought a house and have actually lived in it. For a whole year. Together. And it’s awesome.



I love comments. Did you also threaten to burn down your kitchen? Do you know how to get dogs (or ducks) to stop digging holes? Please tell me about it.

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