Steve and I will be married 25 years on June 19th. So I’m doing a little countdown here at the blog and will continue the Something FOUNDSomething WRITTEN, and Something MADE format. Here goes!

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#14 Days before the Silver Anniversary

Something FOUND

Love this piece from German artist Ellen Ribbe:

ellenribbe

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Something WRITTEN

I think my post yesterday kind of fell flat. I only received two comments. And I think I might have accidentally given the impression that I was unhappy or embarrassed having been referred to as a “comfy pillow” by my 4-year-old grandson.

I should clarify; I consider being called a comfy pillow by Ethan a high honor! And the fact that I am a comfy pillow and Steve is not gains me points in the Grandpa-Grandma competition… Go, Grandma!

When I told Steve just now that about the lonely comments, Steve seemed unsympathetic.

In fact, I think deep-down he was slightly happy it flopped, as he had balked at the word “exercise” in yesterday’s post… the word I used to describe his cycling training. “I don’t exercise,” he said. “I’m an athlete.”

“It works better with my story,” I said as I hit the publish button.

Steve’s cycling has played a large part in our marriage story. I won’t go into the gory details, but let’s just say that as a newlywed I was shocked — SHOCKED! — to find out how many hours one needs to spend on a bicycle if one wants to do well racing.

“It’s just two hours!” Steve would counter when I complained about him being gone all day every Saturday and Sunday.*

No.

This is what a two-hour ride really looks like:

2 hours before the ride:
Tear the house apart looking for shorts, jersey, socks — aka “bike getup” — and put it in the washing machine.

1.5 hour before the ride:
Shower, and shave face, head and legs.

1 hour before the ride:
Put clothes in dryer; Work on bike.

.5 hour before the ride:
Gather water bottles and snacks; get dressed and clomp around in steel shoes all over new bamboo flooring.

The ride:
Two hours.

Immediately after the ride:
Coffee with the guys at Starbucks.

.5 hours after the ride:
Ride home, take off jersey and shoes, open the refrigerator, pull out milk, an apple, some carrots and some yogurt. Open the cupboards, pull out bread and tuna. Wolf everything down.

1 hour after the ride:
Shower, and nap on the couch. (So tired!)

2 hours after the ride:
Wake up (still a little tired from epic ride) and wonder why new wife is upset and starts crying about being abandoned.

Because, aren’t new husbands supposed to want to spend every waking minute with their new wives?

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*He also rode for two hours on Tuesday and Thursday evenings and then 2-3 extra times on the other weekdays.

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Something MADE

wannafight

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Have a wonderful day and I’ll see you tomorrow!