A White Christmas!

Seth promised me a white christmas, and North Dakota delivered in a big way! (I had finally gotten him to watch "White Christmas" with me earlier in the week, over warm gluhwein and German cookies- one of my favorite holiday traditions.) This was his first trip back since he got blown up, so he had a hero's welcome to look forward to. It was my first trip to the Great White North in winter, so I was mostly anticipating frostbite. Our arctic adventure got off to a rough start since we waited until the last minute to pack, and at least one of us (guilty) decided that packing went better with wine. For no sane reason, this left Seth in charge of the alarm clock, and suffice it to say that land speed records were broken on the way to Reagan early Saturday morning. But we made it. Someday, we'll show up to the airport without our hair on fire. This will not be a day that Seth has the ability to hit the snooze button.

We made it though, and said goodbye to 50 degree weather as we boarded the plane. It was -10 when we landed in Grand Forks, and I was reminded of my theory that places where cars are equipped with giant ice scrapers were never meant to be inhabited. Seth did the honors. http://instagram.com/p/iMOb4YTF4-/ We had lunch and beers at the Blue Moose in Grand Forks, and of course Seth talked me into a Cabela's trip before we headed out of town, to Seth's aunt and uncle's for the first of several Christmases.

My trip went by way too fast, a blur of friends and family and food and drink- as Christmas should be. I got used to the cold, and budled up and went snowshoeing every day (much to the bafflement of the few trucks driving by, whose owners invariably offered me a ride.) I also- major highlight here- got to go snowmobiling, which turned out to be ridiculously fun (if chilly). I had no idea you could catch air on those things, and was grateful for the silly-looking helmet Seth had insisted I wear. I totally want a snowmobile now.

On Sunday, Jayne and Tony threw us a wedding reception/ meet and greet, which was a terrific chance for Seth to get to see people from all over the state at once, for me to get to meet them, and for us to thank them all for their support and cards and care packages while Seth was in the hospital. It also provided me with an opportunity to stuff myself with copious amounts of Diane's famous cake, which I definitely did, and to get to wear the turquoise cowboy boots I had bought for our wedding before we decided on Maine. We had a lovely time, although we didn't expect wedding gifts and will now be writing thank you notes to the embarrassingly generous North Dakota crowd for months!

We went to the candlelight service on Christmas Eve, and I made it through without catching a hymnal on fire- a minor miracle for anyone who remembers The Incident in the cadet chapel several decades ago. (I did, however, manage to drip hot wax all over Seth's pants.) http://instagram.com/p/iUvoL4zF7s/ After narrowly escaping a fiery disaster, we enjoyed a quiet Christmas Eve at home, opening presents and lighting a candle for Savanna and watching big, fat snowflakes fall.

Poor Seth, who adores presents and actually seems to enjoy giving as much as getting them, got stuck with a Walters (the family to whom presents are generally an afterthought at best.) I tried this year, but had to resort to asking Seth for a Santa list and selected some sort of absurdly expensive gun accessory off of it. Not exactly inspired. He, on the other hand, surprised me with a beautiful river kayak (complete with cupholders, as my friends pointed out), among other things, and actually drove to the mall of his own volition to shop. http://instagram.com/p/iKpMgVzF98/ I'm working on getting better, I swear.  (We outdid ourselves with Lehua, however, and sent her a baby percussion set, complete with cymbals and a tambourine. Much to Sara's dismay. I wish I could figure out how to embed the video, it's hilarious.) Tony and Jayne know me well- I got comfy sweats and a wine chiller! (Ahhh, the finer things in life.)

And because I adore my in-laws, and they ply me with wine, they somehow got me to an Indian casino for Christmas dinner. (Literally the only people on the planet who could manage this.) I even pulled the handle on a slot machine. I did not win. (I'd add a picture of this, but my phone was nearly confiscated when I snapped one. No photos in casinos- who knew?)

Seth and I finished off Christmas with a bang. I had an early flight out the next morning to get back to work, so he drove me to the big city, where we spent the evening at the only bar open in town and got a room with a hot tub. (I didn't know these actually existed.) After a few beers, I even got him to walk across the frozen Red River in several feet of fresh powder. (A snowy walk from the Minnesota to the North Dakota side and back? Who could resist?) I couldn't help but think that exactly a year ago, he had proposed from a wheelchair on the steps of the Lincoln memorial. What a year it's been...!  We're incredibly blessed, and we know it.

Here's to Christmases filled with family and friends and love and warmth. And snow!

We definitely missed our adorable nieces at Christmas, and their Christmas photos are the best of the week.

Chilly in Philly (and a devastating if not unexpected loss)

It wasn't the cold, I decided. I was covered in hundreds of dollars worth of Patagonia down, which did a pretty good job of warding off the chill. But when it started to rain and sleet, I realized that that down was worth about 50 cents wet. The misery started to creep in.

It was, of course, Army-Navy weekend, the only event that could possibly have found me sitting outside, soaked to the bone in a "wintry mix," wondering if it were possible to drink enough beer to get warm. Ever again.

We had been talking about this weekend since Seth's massive disappointment at having been stuck in the hospital and unable to go last year. We had had hotel reservations for months, and I had started purchasing warm socks the minute I saw the longterm weather forecast. 

We fought traffic Friday night headed north on 95. We made it to Baltimore before we realized that someone who shall remain nameless had forgotten the tickets. It made for a long drive. We missed dinner but got there in time for barhopping. I had never seen anything like it. Cadets and midshipmen and old grads and young grads and soldiers and sailors and former football players crowded hotel lobbies and packed bars and restaurants. Seth and Mike traded hugs and handshakes and shouts across the room with close friends and people they hadn't seen in years and faces they definitely did not recognize alike, while Marlena and I tried to absorb it all and kept up a steady stream of martinis. 

We went for a run the next morning, taking in Philadelphia's historic sites on foot (and recognizing almost none of them), and stopped at the Reading Market to pick up pretzel-wrapped breakfast. There really is not a better way to see a place, and the City of Brotherly Love was growing on Marlena and I. Although we kept an eye toward the sky the whole time, knowing the snowstorm they kept talking about on the news was coming.

Seth, in a serious genius move, had gotten tickets to an indoor tailgate on game day, and secured club level seats for the game, so although we sat outside for four quarters we weren't soggy and windburned by kickoff, and had a place to warm up (and buy drinks) at halftime and when the action lagged a little. Probably saved the day, especially when that wintry mix replaced the big fluffy snowflakes we had almost been enjoying.

It wasn't a great game for Army, which lost soundly. It was a mixed bag for Seth, who was sad for the team but had been lobbying to get the coach fired all season, and knew that this was the last straw. I had a great time catching up with friends, and- since this was my first Army-Navy- enjoyed the stands full of cadets in their gray wool uniforms and the formations marching onto the field at halftime. Seth had talked about the meaning of Army football since we met, and I had even read the damned books on the subject he'd given me, and I guess I kind of got it, seeing this game. And how much he hated the loss.

Afterwards (and following a tipsy, hilarious mile-long run through the snow for the girls), we met Seth's old teammates at a bar for reminiscing and rousing cries to fire the coach. (Somebody listened, and the announcement came the next day.) Seth was in his element, and I was glad I got to be part of this with him. Even if it made for a long, damp day.

Seth must have appreciated my sucking up the wet feet and lack of sleep, and took me for a bellini-soaked brunch Sunday morning. It was a nice farewell to Philly and my first Army-Navy weekend. 

I should be able to feel my feet again by Wednesday.

I feel terrible. Seth and I always forget to take cute pictures until it's too late. I have almost none of him from Army-Navy weekend, so photo of the week #1 has to be of he and DJ and Aaron (his Army football teammates) at the pep rally the week before. I have to say they all clean up good.

#2 is just weird and funny. Marlena and Marissa raided actual garbage cans for these trash bags when it go really rough in the third quarter. I decided to stick it out with the wet down, so as a result they look cute and dry-ish, and I, oddly, resemble the hamburglar.

 

Postscript: a couple more photos I couldn't resist sharing

 I found these on my phone after my last blog post, and couldn't resist sharing. The first two are from Seth's cooking adventure this weekend.I smelled something burning Saturday night and raced into the kitchen, only to find the Master Chef whipping up a venison marinade. That's a lot of booze sitting on the counter. I was afraid to ask if it was going into the marinade or a glass for the chef, but I have my suspicions.

This is what caused the delightful charred smell. "Honey, it just boiled over a little." Two days of scrubbing the kitchen later, it still looks a lot like this. And if you've ever wondered what burnt molasses smells like, come over anytime for the next several weeks. But the chef was pleased with his work. And the fact that I threw him out of the kitchen before he could finish "cleaning."

I cracked up when I saw Seth's ornament contributions to our Christmas tree. Our tasteful decorations are now interspersed with Vikings gnomes and deer heads, and it's hilarious. We're loving our first Christmas outside Walter Reed! (Last year I taped lights to the hospital window and got a tiny Walmart tree. Not the same, and definitely missing this year's tacky purple ornaments!)

Back to the salt mines, and a (rare) lazy weekend

There is such a thing as post-Hawaii depression, and I have definitely felt it. (See? I'm not the only one. Check out #1: http://www.hawaiilife.com/articles/2011/07/reasons-love-living-in-hawaii/) Lucky (?) for us, we didn't have time to wallow in self-pity at only having gotten to spend a few days in paradise this week. Our first morning home, jet-lagged and bleary-eyed, I dragged myself to the Pentagon for two days of crunching board files, and Seth was back at PT and the honey-do list he had let pile up. My time in the puzzle palace confirmed my desire to avoid actually working there at all costs, and I worked late every night for the rest of the week to make up for my "time off" there. Ahhh, Army logic. Seth fought jet lag, exacerbated by his already screwy sleep schedule, and the Walter Reed black hole, where everything takes ten times longer than it should. He did a ton around the house, purchased- but of course- dead deer ornaments for the tree, and is excited to start walking more and studying for the GRE. I'm excited he finally got the man cave out of the "Superfund site" category.

Because the holidays are officially upon us, we decided on a lazy at-home weekend before the traveling and chaos begins, and we enjoyed every second of it. Because I'm a Walters, our tree has been up since before Thanksgiving, but we got our cards ordered, some of our Christmas shopping done (without setting foot in a single store), and our Christmas lights up (not very ambitious, but they look nice and Seth turns them on every night before I get home from work, which helps relieve the traffic tension in a major way.) We also did an early Christmas with Michelle's family, and Seth gave Scott and Grace their new bows (and arrows and targets, since "moderation" is not among my adorable husband's strong suits) and he and Josh handled target practice in the yard while Michelle and I hid inside.

We never go to the movies, but Seth convinced me to see the new Vince Vaughn movie, and despite the movie's many shortcomings it was nice to have a normal weekend date, complete with popcorn and a diet Coke the size of a hot tub that was, inexplicably, a "small." We had drinks with friends and laughed about how we don't "come to town" very often, settled Maryland suburbanites that we have become. We slept in obscenely late, I cooked up a storm, and Seth watched more football games than I could keep track of. Sunday afternoon, after my (always a highlight) long run with Steph, it snowed for the first time this year. We had a blissful snowy day: Seth smoked venison roasts, and I lost a wet, freezing game of horseshoes in the yard. (I blame the weather, of course, but let's be honest. The odds were not in my favor.)

All in all, after a long and crazy week it was just nice to enjoy begin home together for a change.
Even if the Vikings lost.

Photo of the week:

On December 8th every year, this event takes place: http://www.compassionatefriends.org/News_Events/Special-Events/Worldwide_Candle_Lighting.aspx. Last year, we lit a candle for Savanna in the hospital with Seth's parents. This year, we realized about five minutes prior to the event start that we didn't have a single candle in the house (fail.) So Seth built a giant fire in the chiminea instead, and nearly caught the house on fire. I never got to meet his sister, but from the stories I've heard I think she would've liked her brother's (dangerous) (but impressive) "candle."

 

Postcard from Paradise

We got back to DC- miraculously- in time to bear traffic, pick up groceries, and toss our beach laundry in the washer before crashing with dinner and a glass of wine in front of a fire. Hawaii was amazing. Travel is hell. It's good to be home.

Still, it's a special kind of sad- and I know Missy agrees with me here- watching the last of the Bellows sand circle down the shower drain. It means vacation is really and truly over.

It was a ridiculously quick trip to Hawaii to see the fam for Thanksgiving, but then again work is always interfering with our vacation plans. We're getting used to it.

In the space of four days, we managed to cram in the North Shore circuit, an Army football game (my Peruvian brother-in-law's first American football game!), an actual Thanksgiving feast, about a hundred games of bocce (and lawn darts and badminton and dice games, oh my!), a pilgrimage to Duke's, a monsoon day at Bellows, and more mai tais than we cared to count. We saw old friends and were utterly charmed by our little niece, Lehua.

We did not surf or paddleboard or snorkel as planned, but part of the fun of being pseudo-locals (by family) in paradise is that there's always next time for the touristy stuff. For the most part, spectacular vistas notwithstanding, we were just like the rest of the poor saps trekking across the US on the busiest travel day of the year to share stuffing and turkey with the fam.

But those vistas were pretty hard to ignore. We're already planning our next- longer- trip, when Seth can hike and hit the waves, and we'll have time (and better weather) to lie on the beach for a change.

I'm beyond jealous that I have to be at the Pentagon for a board at 8 tomorrow morning, while Missy is sending me vacation pictures. (Although there are Mondays even in Hawaii, and Sara had to work.) Looking forward to the next family vacation. Seth survived his first, and claims to be excited to do it again, too.

More and better pictures will follow, but here are a few:

First, and most epic, documents my Thanksgiving wins. Believe it or not. (I never win anything in my family.)

This is from the Worst. Weather. Day. Ever. at Bellows. Check out that fleece!

Toasting Seth's "Alive Day" with champagne and the Bustamantes.

 And this one is probably our favorite. Our little niece, fetching and opening a beer for Dad. Totally unprompted. What a rock star.

Remembering another anniversary

November 30th is the anniversary of the best day of my life. No matter what happens, I am certain that nothing will ever eclipse that one. Our Maine wedding, although hilariously, fabulously, wonderful, didn't quite top it.

A year ago today was three days after I first got the phone call that Seth was alive and a little banged up. Three days, or a lifetime of sleepless nights and heart-in-your-throat moments and crying jags and waiting for phone calls from the road, depending on how you measure it.

A year ago today I fled some fiscal law class hours early, grabbed my already-packed bag, changed outfits three times, got 20 minutes down the road before I had to pull over at a gas station and- I am not joking- gulp most of a 40 of some cheap beer or other leaning on the hood of my car, nearly had a nervous breakdown when I hit traffic, and eventually made it to Andrews Air Force Base where I promptly lost the directions I had carefully written down and spent an hour wandering around lost and panicked and wishing desperately that I had the rest of that 40.

A year ago today I nervously waited in some colonel's office for that plane. Watched the sun start to set over the runway. And felt my heart leap into my throat and my blood pound in my ears as I saw the plane, Seth's plane, circle lower and lower and prepare to land. I stood off to the side, out of place and feeling both ridiculous and hysterical while customs officials got ready to board. I couldn't wait any longer, and was elated when some general officer brushed them aside, told me imperiously to "come with me" over protest, and shoved his way on board dragging me in his wake. The sides of the plane closed in around me as I looked from face to miserable face, and raced past the rows of stretchers. And then I saw him, bearded and beat up and druggy but reaching for me.

People ask me sometimes whether it was hard to make the decision to be "all in" with a guy I had been dating for only a few months before the IED blast changed everything. The answer is no. I didn't think about it for even one second. If you're ever lucky enough to feel the feeling that washed over me on that evening at Andrews, you hang on and never let go. And so I have.

Today, on this oddest and most wonderful of anniversaries, I remember the wait. For the plane to get there, to land, to open its doors, to let me just see the person who meant everything in the world to me. I feel gratitude for and cameraderie with the people who know that wait. Danielle Kelly and Jess Klein and the women who I now think of as sisters, because no one else will ever quite exactly understand. I am grateful for the parents- Seth's, especially, who I met for the first time the following day at the hospital, and who never made me feel like that was weird. Their wait, and their journey, is hard- and not quite the same, but there is so much love and shared understanding. For my own parents, who did cooking and yardwork and were always just solidly there. For my best friend who met Seth at the emergency room on a work night because I was stuck in traffic, and who brought me a flask and a hug. For Jackie and her Air Force friends who didn't know me but who jumped through hoops and bent a rule or two to allow me to be there, for that moment on the runway. And were happy to do it. For my roommate who did my laundry and made sure I ate, and our friends and family who were patient and understanding and supportive in little ways and big ones.

Today, too, I think of those whose wait is at Dover instead. My heart will forever bleed for those who watch for a different kind of aircraft.

Today we celebrate life and love, and are grateful. And will never forget.

Some COLD Football

We had a terrific week. Dinner with friends in the city, grilled some elk steaks, caught up on laundry, enjoyed being home for more than a few days at a stretch for a change. Which meant that... the "honey do" list resurfaced. Seth is very patient about the existence of this list, but he also largely ignores it. I know I promised I would leave the man cave alone, but let's face it. A couple months or not trading dinner for chores, and the place is a Superfund site.

So of course I came home on Friday night, after a hellish day and even worse traffic, to a fire and a glass of bourbon. A little Friday R&R- the man wasn't born yesterday- and I had agreed to not one but two football games in the midst of our sudden and offensive cold snap. Which meant, I suspected, that the biohazard that was our downstairs had at least another week to foster bacteria and allow the hunting clothes to get really ripe.

But I digress. The point is that we had a wonderful time at the Maryland- Boston College Game (all decked out in Terrapins gear in honor of Seth's soon-to-be alma mater!), and I say this not just because we spent most of it in the athletic director's warm box, and followed it up with the discovery of a new local sports bar. (I confess that I literally froze after Seth's introduction on the field in the third quarter and- much to my later embarrassment- insisted that we leave to "beat traffic," thereby missing what was described on the radio as an incredibly exciting game featuring a last-second field goal.) I was bracing myself, however, for the arctic Ravens game the next day.

We had front row seats, courtesy of some wounded warrior charity or other, and this one wasn't even too obnoxious. (Picture above notwithstanding.) But it was below freezing, and you can only drink so much beer, and frankly hand warmers don't work that well. It was a long, cold day (and not that thrilling a game), capped off by a (funny)(underdressed)(bizarre) evening on the town in Baltimore with Seth's Army football buddies. All in all, we had a good time. I still can't feel my fingers. And I am seriously concerned about Army-Navy, which promises to be at least 15 degrees colder.

I tolerated the football, and the cold, and the Ravens fans (can you say "lock your doors?") The best parts of my weekend were a long run with Steph, a trip to lululemon, a much-needed dose of takeout Thai, and a rare but amazing hour on the couch with reruns. It was a much-needed weekend at home.

Oh, and this. This absolute highlight. Sunday morning I got to take Seth and his new running leg for a little run along the canal. It's baby steps at first, and I know he gets frustrated that he can't go that far or that fast, and it's more painful than he remembers. But he looks so good, and he's so determined, and it means the world to me to get to run next to him again. Doesn't he look great??

The photo of the week is from Monday night, after Scott & Grace's school Thanksgiving program. We tagged along, and afterward we stopped by for a beer and "storytime with Uncle Seth." He read La La Loopsie. Pretty priceless.

And now... the countdown to Hawaii is on...!

Full Circle & Then Some

Sixteen-or-so months ago, this guy won me over by crashing my solo roadtrip and dragging himself through a half marathon in Keystone, Colorado. It was essentially our third date, and after that, it was pretty much a done deal.

20 surgeries, countless trips to the proesthetician,  and almost 12 months of physical therapy later, he grabbed my hand, looked at me, and started jogging next to me. Getting to run next to him, after the year we had been through together, was the moment I had been waiting for. And it was incredible.

Because he's Seth Nieman,of course,  he didn't stop there. An hour or so afterwards, he suited up for the Wounded Warrior Amputee Football Game against the Redskins Alumni

And he did this...

And this...

And this...

And you get the idea.

 

The Wounded Warriors won.

And looked awesome doing it.

Afterwards, we celebrated with a few beers at Clare and Don's with DJ, and then headed home so the boys could watch football. (That's right. The photo of the week is proof that I was the only person in the house who watched my Trojans' epic victory over Stanford.)

 

A story about the game, along with a cool interview clip, appears here: http://www.wusa9.com/sports/article/283078/444/Wounded-Warriors-Take-On-Redskins-Alumni-In-Flag-Football