So, my husband and I went away for our anniversary.
Five years ago, May 1, 2004, we were married at the Rainier Valley Cultural Center in Columbia City in Southeast Seattle. I was nearly 8 months pregnant and I wore a bright red dress and a haku lei, and Kenny had a long maile leaf lei, and our family and friends were all bedecked with leis, too. We got married on stage, the same stage where the youth theatre performances took place, the same stage I'll produce on again this summer. It was filled with flowers, beautifully decorated by our family and friends.
And we went to the coast for our honeymoon, to Port Angeles and La Push.
And now, five years later, we went on our first overnight away without Finn. He stayed with his beloved cousin Melissa, and we headed east.
I had envisioned a cabin in the woods, hot tub under the stars. We didn't have that. Cost intervened, and convenience, the desire to drive 90 minutes or less since we had just the one night. So we had what we had.
Shopping at North Bend, new shoes for me. On to Cle Elum, antique store browsing, a room at the Snowcap Lodge (the fancy name for the new Best Western there). We DID have an awesome room - a soaking tub IN THE ROOM, right in front of the television.
Oh, part of me feels so crass - part of me WANTS to be the woman who goes to the romantic cabin in the woods! But in truth, we soaked in the tub and watched Grey Gardens on HBO.
And went to eat at the Roslyn Cafe, and it was just fine.
What is it about anniversaries, birthdays, events like these, that make me desire, or expect, or think I should desire and expect and HAVE the super-human experience? The romance novel... what is that part of myself?
Our trip took place on Saturday and Sunday, May 2 and 3. On our actual anniversary, May 1, we stayed home. Kenny went and did something, Finn and I played. Kenny came home and we worked in the garden. He planted flowers. I planted vegetables. We ate chicken for dinner. We kinda watched something on tv and then went to bed. It was just a day.
It was just a good day. Easy. No expectations. Just life outside in the warm sun, planting and chatting. And come summer, we'll have flowers to enjoy and food to eat.
Sometimes the best moments are the easy ones.
And someday we'll have our cabin in the woods, no TV, hot tub under the stars. That time will come. For now, all is fine as it is.