Recipe for a Killer Long Weekend

It might be my very favorite thing, spending time in the kitchen with my husband. It doesn't happen very often, since during the week I'm in tornado mode when I'm home, or we're tag-teaming chores so we can get a few minutes of chill time between commute and bed. And since we like to squeeze every second out of our weekends, we usually come screaming into the driveway on Sunday night in just enough time to throw dirty laundry in and scrounge for frozen leftovers.

It had definitely been one of those weeks, although I had squeezed in a painful but fabulous hot yoga date with Lily, and Seth had killed a couple deer, a rare "double" with a crossbow. Our long weekend plans to drive to Ohio to see the Laneys and meet the new baby fell through at the last minute when the littlest Laney got sick. I wanted to go snowboarding, as hasty plan which also went south when we realized there was no snow within driving distance in any direction. So Seth won the toss, and we headed to the Eastern Shore to shoot waterfowl. We've got the compromise thing figured out by now: we stayed at the stupendous Hyatt Regency Chesapeake, a beautiful resort with pools and bars and an indoor/outdoor hot tub and a huge gym that sparkles.

Saturday morning found us shivering in a duck blind with a couple of other wounded warriors and a hilarious rich guy who owns grocery stores and a chunk of hunting land adjacent to a wildlife refuge. Duck hunting is way less boring than deer hunting, at least partly because you can talk and have coffee and snacks. I had a new 12 gauge too, which Seth had spent all Friday shopping for, settling on a child-sized, camo-patterned Mossberg, and surprising me with it before dinner Friday. I couldn't wait to shoot it (and really wanted to kill a Canada goose, my running nemesis.)

Unfortunately, it was windy- and at times snowy- which should've brought the ducks in droves, but for some reason they weren't taking the bait. We got a couple- almost impossible to tell who shot what, I found- but mostly played with the goofy duck dog, ate sugar cookies, and tried to stay warm. I had a blast. Seth wasn't shushing me the whole time, and the new gun was a blast. I could definitely get used to this kind of hunting.

Still, 5 hours is pretty much my limit, and I bailed at lunch for amazing fajitas and Coronas at Don Chuy's, followed by a run along the bay and a dip in the hot tub with sunset views across the water. Seth went back to the woods to stalk deer. To each his own and all, but I definitely felt like I came out ahead. We had wood-fired pizzas for dinner downtown, with live music and good beer, and slept in late enough the next morning that we barely had time for a morning hot tub soak before checkout and brunch. (Cambridge, MD turns out to be a super cool town, with a historic waterfront and a ton of amazing restaurants. Even if the "no mimosas before noon on Sundays" rule chafed a little.)

It was a great getaway, and having escaped town on Friday made it feel like a long weekend, even without Monday. Which felt like a total free day, and found us staying in bed until an obscenely late hour and then just enjoying being home. I went for a long run with Steph and Bex, who was in town, and it felt like old times on a beautifully warm and sunny day. I came home to a messy kitchen and the smell of venison chili, and took the opportunity to chop vegetables while Seth tried to figure out how to get tomato sauce on all four walls and the ceiling. I love being in the kitchen with him enough that it's worth the cleanup, which is saying a lot.

Monday night we had one of our "every so often" trips into the city to remind ourselves why we don't do it more often. It was restaurant week, and we had a terrific meal at Oyamel, a Mexican cucina, with friends. Still, it was crazy expensive and the parking was a nightmare and the crowd was very, very hip. 

We were happy to retreat to Bethesda, and find that we much prefer our Sunday night "football and mimosas" tradition. Yes, Seth participates. Here's the evidence. Like duck hunting/ spa weekends, it's a pretty killer compromise that keeps us both happy. Even if it sounds a little weird. 

Photo of the week has to be the one I took of Seth's venison chili. Unsurprisingly, it appears to consist almost entirely of meat.

Oh, and we took this one at dinner. The Charlottesville Fam, minus Ryan. It was great to catch up with the old crew.

Of Bad Dates, Great Pizza, and Fun at the Range

My husband is a smart, opinionated guy, given to expansive lectures on any number of topics and a soft spot for knowing the most and being the right-est. His brain is probably what did me in, what feels like ages ago, since I’ll admit that I originally thought he was too pretty to be all that smart. Being way, way wrong was one of the most pleasant surprises of my life.

At any rate, we’re a lot alike, and that means we butt heads sometimes. We should really know better than to schedule date night at the end of a long week, when we’re both tired and a little more touchy than usual.

We checked out a new place on Friday, the Tower Oaks Lodge in Rockville, after a week of horrific weather and worse traffic and a lot of late nights working on a huge 62 appeal (me) and grad school admission packets (him.) We loved the place, all lit up with Christmas lights and decorated with big wood beams and rustic accents, with canoes hanging from the ceiling and ducks tacked to the walls. Still, halfway through dinner Seth (inadvertently, he claims) insulted me, and I pouted, and we endured a silent ride home.

I suppose that’s what marriage is all about. Knowing each other, and your collective strengths and weaknesses, and when to push, and when to shelve your feelings, and when to just stay home in sweats. We’re working on it. I suppose most married people are. It feels like one of those "work in progress" things.

I fled for Richmond and a much-needed girls’ night the next morning, and Seth went hunting for the millionth time that week. (Fighting traffic and deadlines while he gets to hang out in the woods perhaps, sometimes, maybe contributes to a shorter-than-usual fuse on my part.) I hadn’t seen Heather in ages, and the original plan for a wild night on the town gave way, predictably, to leisurely shopping, a manicure, and drinks at the bar on a Noah’s Ark-kind of rainy day. We went downtown for tapas and wine, and were in bed by midnight, which we decided was the new thing: the “grown up girls’ night.” Heavy on the sleep. After a stupendously relaxing massage and a mimosa brunch Sunday, I headed home, with a plan to stop at Wegman’s, change into sweats, consume a few mimosas on the couch while pretending to care about whatever playoff game was on TV, and forgive my stubborn husband for being a know-it-all.

Halfway there, he texted me with some sort of harebrained scheme that involved me meeting him at a Virginia gun store so we could circumvent Maryland gun laws by my signing for whatever his latest purchase was. He thought he’d sweeten the pot with the offer of some couples’ range time. I can’t say I was thrilled about the prospect, but figured I owed him for my desertion.

And of course it was a terrific time. I’m a reasonably good shot, but Seth is encyclopedic about guns and shooting and anything related to either. Plus, he really enjoys shooting, which is contagious, and is particularly adorable about how much fun he has shooting with his wife. I think he thinks it’s the ultimate couples activity. I can think of a few that top it, but we had an excellent afternoon. And I still got my mimosas on the couch.

And because a happy husband is apparently a really helpful husband, after a painfully long Monday, I came home to this. Homemade pizza, with tons of veggies. And wine. We may butt heads from time to time, but I definitely can’t complain. Life is good. And well-timed girls' nights are invaluable.

And Seth makes really, really good pizza.

Picture of the week is of our adorable (and so grown up!) niece, Natalie, with the stir fry set we got her for Christmas.

 

Ringing in the New Year

I stepped off the plane at Reagan tired, cranky, and already late for work. I had taken the morning redeye back to the grind while Seth stayed in North Dakota for another few days of sleeping in and drinking beer and ice fishing. I was a tad disgruntled about this inequity, to say the least.

But at least it was warmer in DC. About 40 degrees warmer, in fact. That cheered me up a little as I wriggled into my uniform in the parking lot and inched along the parkway in late morning traffic. And I already had plans for an old school slumber party at Mom and Dad’s, since Missy was in town for the week.

And so went the week, that week between Christmas and New Year’s that is always a chaotic jumble of the residue of one holiday, the buildup to another, and the sad fact that there are still workdays in the middle. I shortened my work schedule as much as I could and raced around town trying to catch a bit of the Walters family fun I was missing: stalking Mom in the pool, drinking beer over pass the pigs after work, and once even meeting Missy and Mom in uniform partway up the Billy Goat Trail. (I got a few stares, but also a nice hike on a weekday!) I did steal Missy for a quick trip to Charlottesville on Saturday, and we had a blast. We hiked up to Monticello in embarrassingly beautiful 60 degree weather, had soup and beer on the downtown mall, and met Mom and Dad for amazing pizza in Sperryville after their epic Shenandoah hike. Annddd we somehow found time for facials and wine and Christmas lights- always a win.

Seth made it back from the great white north in time for New Year’s Eve, the Niemans having previously decided against fighting the outrageous traffic and crowds and parking hell endemic to the DC bar scene on a holiday. Instead, Seth spent all day smoking platters and platters of various meats, and we had the family and Michelle and Josh over for games and champagne and a carnivorous feast. Oh, and a little crossbow shooting. A good time was definitely had by all, the vicious Walters family tradition of writing new year’s resolutions for each other notwithstanding.

And then, a little unceremoniously, the holidays were over and Missy was gone and the rest of us headed back to the salt mines. (Well, except for Seth, who was giving himself a holiday “grace period” consisting largely of hunting-- but I’ll give him that putting up with me on solo back-to-work-week probably earned him some solitary treestand time.) We were beat, totally unwilling to deal with taking down Christmas decorations or writing thank yous, and already way over our unoriginal new year’s resolutions (drink less, work out more, blah).

Inspired by mine and Michelle’s annual tradition of celebrating holiday survival with pedicures and wine, we embarked on a weekend getaway to the mountains instead. Although I learned the hard way that “relaxing couples time” is not to be had in a resort with a casino when one has a card-playing husband, we came home feeling rejuvenated after a snowy walk in the woods (clad in orange and toting heavy weaponry, of course), another NDSU national championship win, and a trip to the nation’s first hot springs. Rested, massaged, and even contemplating Christmas light removal, we’re officially ready to tackle 2014.

The photo of the week has to be Missy at the “Nieman Family New Year.” Crossbow and all. (Although the one just above is also pretty cool- at George Washington's own personal hot springs "bathtub" in Berkeley Springs, WV.)

Oh, and one more. Seth wanted me to add this one of his culinary masterpieces from New Year's Eve.

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."