What a pear!

My new favorite food is the Bosc pear. Fry it up in some butter, toss in some walnuts and sprinkle dried cranberries on top. Crumble some cheese over the whole thing. Yum YUM! (Or should I say, "Scromph!") One day, I won't live a block and a half from Whole Foods. That will be a sad day for my diet.

I got my blood levels tested the other day on account of some issues with my "lady parts" as my mom so disgustingly delicately put it. Supposedly all is normal. But I am starting to worry that I am pre-diabetic. Wow, this blog is a crazy outlet for my hypochondria! I can't help but think it's doing T a great service. (Now I have the poor unsuspecting internet to listen to my various ailments and suspicions!)

And in other news, T & I went to a dance party wedding this weekend where, for the first time in our entire relationship (i.e. 7 years on Saturday), he kept dragging me onto the dance floor. I'm still not sure what got into him, but after trying to get him to dance at so many weddings, I'm not gonna complain! Even if I did have to hide in the bathroom a couple of times just to get away from him and catch my breath. Even if I did come out of the bathroom once to find all the guys at our table rushing at me saying, "Did you see what T did?! He got some guy crowd surfing!" Even if he literally made me dance my way out to the coffee nook and dance my way back to the table. And even if we did almost knock over the photographer not once, not twice but three times.

T has two theories for his sudden love of dancing. His first is that now that we've tied the knot, he feels like he can kick back and enjoy everyone else's without stressing out about whether we're going to have to do that at our wedding. His second theory is that it's because of something I've told him over and over (at every wedding reception, I'm sure) about how I don't care what he looks like when he dances, I just love to see him having fun. He said it's because of me. Obviously, I like theory #2 better. But they're both pretty good.

And since the wedding was in the deep south of Virginia, I got my good fill of the life I miss here in the Big City. We stopped at a fruit co-op and bought jars of red raspberry preserves and kickles ("pickles with a kick!"). We heard all about how the hotel receptionist's daddy declared on the day of her birth that she would be known as "Mary Cathreen" and how her grandbaby has the same name, so there are now two people on the face of this earth with the name Cathreen. We spotted a headless deer and a vulture (and possibly a deer head in the mouth of a vulture). And at the wedding, we ate mashed potatoes, green beans, lots of gravy and watched the bride and her mom dance to good ol' Rocky Top.