Communication is key

"Eyemohmissewe."  

Translation: "I'm going to miss you"

Spoken to: My husband, this morning, before heading to my home town (Podunk, South Carolina; population 628), where, due to circumstances outside of my control, I've been spending several days of each week since August 2009.

Reaction from my articulate, city boy, privately-schooled husband: "Huh?"

Beginning of a trend?: Aforementioned sweet, darling husband also corrected me at the gym this morning when I told a fellow member, "My hands are tore up from yesterday's pullups."  And Friday night he outed me to our friends for how red I sound when addressing these (and other) folks by the names I was taught to call them growing up: "Mama," "Grandmama," "Cuddin' Myrtle" and "Uncle Baby."

Verdict: You can take the new bride out of the country (even for a few years, and put her in high heels and business suits in a major city), but you can't take the country out of the new bride -- especially if she's always having to spend half of her time back in the sticks.

Which means our future children will likely greet my husband in the driveway when he gets home from work, hop into his future swank-yet-super-environmentally-friendly-SUV with muddy bare feet, a Dr. Thunder in hand, squealing "haaaaaaaaaaaaay Deaddddddddddy!!!!!"

Out with the old? Not with my husband's "troughed" cutting board.

The entire city is feverishly bracing for icy roads and snow, but we're cool and collected here on Woodward Way.  We've got all the supplies we need....

....for chopping up stuff or tossing a salad.  

It's a new year, and among other resolutions, our goal as a couple is to get our home feeling like home.  So far we're killing it: we've opened and broken down about 600 cardboard boxes for recycling (including the Robot... farewell, fine sir), hung a chandelier and a TV, and cleared some space in our kitchen cabinets for new dishes and a few really grown-up appliances like a mixer and a crock pot.  It's domestic bliss at its finest, even IF my loving husband -- in the heat of rescuing something from the Goodwill pile -- did call me a zitface.  We finally agreed that nothing says "newlywed" like having seven (and counting) cutting boards, so we're keeping 'em all!!!!