I was just thinking about the day D & I were married. It was very warm, and the sun was bright and radiant. My bare shoulders were quite red by the end of the day, and the wrap my StepGrand made for me at the last minute, when I had panicked about the cold weather, was quite unecessary after all.

It was a really, really, really good day. I was drunk on a little sake and a lot of happiness. Everyone smiled for us. I tripped on my dress a lot, but even that was joyful. I remember catching my relfection in the windows of the lovely lodge every so often and thinking, “that’s me in the white dress today.”

I’m tempted to say it was the happiest day of my life, but that wouldn’t exactly be true. Every day since, every day that I’ve been married to this wonderful man, has been the happiest day.

Happy Anniversary, Darling Mine.

Actually, ocean.

D left for Brussels last Sunday, after a whirlwind couple of days of cleaning, shopping and packing. Until Biscuit’s official diagnosis came in, and we got his chemo rolling, D’s trip was almost an afterthought in our lives. Well, less so for him, naturally.
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During the past two weeks, the question I’ve heard most often (besides queries about Biscuit, of course) is “how are you coping?”

The answer is one simple word: candy.
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