Table for Two

As far as date nights go, it wasn't the fanciest place we've ever been to. There were no tablecloths. The menus were laminated. We were the only diners.

But on a cold, rainy, windy night it was the only bright light on Riverwatch Parkway. A beacon of welcome and warmth.

The hostess was nice, the coffee was hot, and while the weather did its blustery thing outside, we were cocooned inside enjoying breakfast for dinner for two.

Sometimes it's the simple things that carve memories on our heart.

The Story of Us

Some of you know the story on how Joe and I met, but since today is our 27th wedding anniversary I thought I'd share it here for the first time. It's a good story ...

Once upon a time there was a girl named Maria who was an English major at the University of Georgia. She was an excellent student (except in math) and loved nothing more than sitting under the oak trees on campus discussing Shakespeare and poetry. She studied abroad, almost joined the Peace Corps, and once she received her degree decided to continue her studies in order to obtain a teacher certification in secondary education.


Around the time Maria was sitting under the oak tree discussing Shakespeare, there was a guy named Joe who recently graduated from Penn State University with a degree in mechanical engineering. He was hired by SRS and promptly moved south ... mainly for the abundance of golf courses. He rented an apartment, bought a state-of-the-art stereo system, vacationed in England (to attend the Ryder Cup) and Ireland (to play golf), and like any good Catholic boy joined a local church.


One late November Maria came home and her mother announced that she had signed up the entire family to work at the Spaghetti Dinner fundraiser at St. Teresa of Avila Catholic Church. Maria was not happy. She had better things to do than volunteer at a church dinner, but that evening she found herself serving the garlic bread in the dinner line.


As it happened, Joe had purchased a ticket for this dinner. He had just come from the golf course, and with the intention of getting his dinner to go he picked up a tray and got in line. He noticed a dark-haired girl serving the garlic bread, and wouldn't you know that just when he got to her the bread ran out! So while the kitchen staff was scrambling to bring in another tray of garlic bread, Maria and Joe chatted for a few minutes.


The bread arrived and Joe made the decision to NOT take the food home after all but to eat it right there. He took a seat at a table and kept his eye on the girl. When she moved over to work the dessert table, he pulled out his wallet and bought some cookies.


Incredibly, they did not exchange names, so the next Monday Joe called the church office and asked the priest for the name of the girl who was serving the garlic bread at the Spaghetti Dinner. Now, the priest knew the family very well, but he always got confused about the daughters -- he knew one was named Maria and the other was Laura, but he didn't know which was which. But he had an idea. He told Joe that the girl and her family always came to the 9:30 Mass on Sunday morning.


The next Sunday Maria was sitting at Mass with her sister, brother and parents. During the Sign of the Peace she turned to shake hands with the people sitting behind them and there was Joe -- who usually went to Mass Saturday night -- smiling at her. For the next couple of Sundays Joe faithfully sat behind Maria and her family at Mass, and in mid-December during the Advent Reconciliation Service they stood in line together and talked the entire time when they should have been examining their conscience. The priest (a visiting one) was probably confused when first one, then the other, entered the confessional smiling.


Their first date was a 50's themed New Year's Eve party.


Six months later they were engaged.


And six months after that (just a little over a year from when they met) they were married in that very same church. The priest who played matchmaker officiated.

 Joe and Maria

Passing out bomboniere (Italian wedding favors) at their reception.

Joe and Maria, in the beginning

Joe and Maria today ...

 and the story continues ...

A Good Man

Last night I was sitting in the van with Nicholas in a not very nice section of town. Our reliable (at least until that moment) Neon had quit while on the drive home from work, and I had come to pick up Joe and Nicholas. It was dark and cold. We were watching Joe, across the street, call the insurance company, arrange for a tow truck and then, over an hour later, help Wayne’s Towing Service load our Nissan onto the bed of the truck. All while this was going on I thought over the past couple of days when Joe helped the boys order their books for next semester, fixed the garbage disposal, reviewed Timothy’s math homework, investigated a fraud alert on my Costco credit card, and bought me a dozen roses for our anniversary.

“Your father takes such good care of us,” I said softly to Nicholas. “He is a good man and works hard.”

And sitting there, in the cold and dark in the not so nice part of town, my heart was full.

Happy Anniversary, Joey. Twenty-six years and counting.

When to be Sweet as Pie

Poor Joe. He doesn't know what awaits.


As I write this I am waiting for him to come home after running a quick errand. He promised me that today -- his day off -- we will hang a few pictures in our rec room.


But by "we" I mean him, and by "a few" I mean ... more than a few.


And it's going to involve much more than pounding a nail. My "few" items are oversized, heavy, and will require some drilling. He's going to have to find studs, anchor screws, and be very precise.


So, here is a graphic on what the next couple of hours will look like:

Joey

Bia

I'm going to be sweet as pie and not even mention the two lighting fixtures we need to hang in a couple of weeks.

Joe wants to go to the mall. Huh?!

Last night Joe announced that he needed to go to the mall.


STOP. Joe never wants to go to the mall. Never, ever. He HATES the mall. In his mind the mall should have been one of Dante's circles of Hell. But he had a Dick's Sporting Goods gift card and decided that Friday, his day off, would be the perfect time to use it.


Who was I to argue? I was not letting this golden opportunity slip by.


So after the boys left for school this morning, we got ready to go to the mall. I was ridiculously excited ... which is a little pathetic, I know, but it was a date! And not just any date ... a MALL date. Like we were in high school, or something! For the occasion I even straightened my hair and wore TWO coats of mascara.


We got to the mall shortly after it opened, and after coordinating our cell phones so we could meet later, he headed for Dick's to purchase some golf stuff while I headed to Macy's with a fistful of coupons.


Fifteen minutes later he calls and asks me if I'm done.


"Done with what?" I asked, a little breathlessly because I was trying on jeans. "Aren't you at Dick's?"


"I'm done. I got a golf hat, a golf glove, and a dozen golf balls," he replied. "Do you want me to drive around and pick you up at Macy's?"


Fifteen minutes. He purchased all that in fifteen minutes and he was done. Finito.


Evidently his idea of a mall outing was not my idea of a mall outing. At all. Not even close. And because it was 10:20 it wasn't like we could go and have lunch, either.


But all was not lost. On the way to meet him I quickly ran into JCPenny with a $10 coupon that was expiring tomorrow (the kind with no minimum purchase required!) and five minutes later I had a brand new pair of earrings that, after the sale, special promotion and my $10 coupon, cost me $1.30.


And I wore them all the way home.

He may not be a mall-kind-of-guy,
but he is a watch-a-movie-on-a-rainy-afternoon kind of guy  ...
and that is just fine with me.

To My Math Man

A Mathematical Equation by Bia

 

31: our first official date, December 31

6: the number of months we dated,
the number of months we were engaged

15: our wedding day, December 15

136: the street number of our very first house

10: the number of months we lived in Santa Fe, NM

506: the street number for our adobe home in Santa Fe

1995: Nicholas is born

1996: Jonathan is born

3479: the street number for the house we built

2004: Timothy is born

5: the number of stockings hung by the chimney with care

3: God’s gifts to us: Nicholas, Jonathan, Timothy

23: the number of years we’ve been married

Add them all together,
and you have 10, 209 reasons why I married Joey.

Bacioni,

Bia

 

 

 

How do I love thee? Let me count the facebook ways.

So, who changes the toilet paper roll in your family? In my family ... okay, here's the thing. When I notice we need another roll I tell myself, Not now. I don't have time to run all the way to the linen closet which is all the way down the hall; in my mental hierarchy of what's important, replacing the toilet paper roll is pretty much at the bottom of my list.

On the other hand my husband says, We're out of toilet paper. I'm going to walk all the way to the linen closet which is all the way down the hall and get another roll right now.

And sometimes if we're out of toilet paper in the downstairs bathroom, he'll immediately walk all the way upstairs to get another roll. Me? I just wait until the next time I go upstairs.

Which usually means it doesn't get replaced, hence my public apology.

 

 

But no worries. I know Joe still loves me because last night the boys helped him set up a facebook account, and for his status he put married. AND I was his very first facebook friend. So you see, toilet paper or no toilet paper, he loves me.

 

 

P.S. I know, I know. Why don't we keep extra rolls of toilet paper in the bathrooms? That's not how we roll (ha!); to keep our bathrooms clutter free, I keep a perfectly neat (and stocked) linen closet. I just need to quit procrastinating.