COZY

The sky was gray all day and now the streets shimmer with rain. It pit-patters on the roof, too. I like that sound.

My husband sits on the couch opposite me, headphones in, jamming silently to Blink 182 and Boys Like Girls, perfecting his air guitar, "doing his homework".

I sit here on this couch, thinking, writing, just being still for a moment. It's nice to have a few minutes to think and breathe and crawl inside my mind.

Our couches are faded pastel plaid. We got them from my parents' neighbor. She was an elderly widow about to move in with her daughter. She lovingly gifted to us our plaid couch set, along with two wing-backed floral armchairs and a faded ottoman. We were beyond excited to have so much furniture. It's nice to have places for people to sit when they come over. It's nice to curl up on these free couches of ours with a blanket to do homework or watch a movie or just talk.

The heater just kicked on for the first time this fall.

I think this, right now, is the definition of cozy.

Happy Fall! (I know, I know... #basicfallpost)

HOME

I grew up with the fantastically romantic idea of getting married and being dirt poor. It just sounded so great to me. Sure, money's nice. . . but living paycheck-to-paycheck on nothing but refried beans; coming home to a minuscule hole-in-the-wall apartment -- you know the kind: bed in the living room, no couch, card table and two folding chairs crammed into the teensy kitchen, no room for guests; packing our lunches in brown paper bags, and stressing about money with my cute new husband (who, at the time of these thoughts, was unknown to me) sounded like the most romantic thing of all time.

Weird, maybe, but true.

We got engaged and Michael told me the best news ever: we already had a place to live! Thanks to Grandma & Grandpa Watkins, there was a little duplex in west Provo with our name on it. We were ecstatic to get the keys.

I love our duplex. Seriously, love. We live in a great location -- with the river right there, and all the trees, and the park at the end of the street. We have three bedrooms that we don't even need but I love having places to put stuff. We have a big family room and a big kitchen and a cute little back deck and a laundry room and a ginormous bathroom. I mean, for a family of two, we're completely spoiled. I feel like we're living in absolute luxury.

But.

WE HAVE NO A/C.

We obviously want to solve the problem ASAP. So one day while I was in the library, Michael drove to Bed Bath & Beyond. He searched high and low for a fan that blows cold air. He consulted me on the phone, I googled it, it looked good. He bought it. Brought it home. And guess what?

IT WAS A HEATER.

When he called to tell me, I couldn't help but laugh. I wasn't even frustrated. It would be just our luck to buy something that's exactly the opposite of what we really want.

So, I'll enjoy our hot house a bit longer. You know what, I won't even complain. We're getting used to sitting on the couch with wet rags draped over our legs and around our necks and taking icy cold showers right before bed.

I think it's something we'll look back on later with fondness.

Even if that's hard for me to believe right now.

I realized that home isn't a place as much as it is a feeling. Home really is where your husband is. And your family.

And I love our little home.

MAY

May will always be a special month for us.

A year ago May 10 was warm and sunny. We walked home from church together, casually chatting. We talked about nothing in particular, but neither of us could have ever imagined where it would take us.

On May 14, we went to institute together. I was impressed by his note-taking, his comments, and his singing voice. He smoothly and sneakily got my number. Later that night, he called and asked me out for Saturday. I couldn't keep a smile off my face.

On May 16, he picked me up. I opened the door and my heart skipped a beat [cliche, I know, but honestly and absolutely true]. He was cute. Cuter than I remembered. And tall. Taller than I remembered. We went to his apartment and made pizza and played Ticket to Ride with a few other couples. I was smitten. He seemed so good in every way.

Since last May, it's been a whirlwind of smiles, hugs, vacations, breakfasts, walks, laughter, and tears. We have shared absolutely everything together. Life as a whole -- not a half, wondering who our other half is, but a whole -- is amazingly beautiful.

The month of May brings beauty to the world. Everything turns green. The skies are brightest blue, and the sun shines brilliantly on emerging new life. I have a feeling that every May will also bring warmth and beauty to our marriage. We'll look back on that first May we had together and remember with fondness when we fell in love.

WHY I LOVE SUNDAYS

Happy March!

School is in full swing, and I mean swing. Like, whoaI'mreadytogetofftheswingnow kind of swing. Papers, projects, tests, quizzes, and homework assignments are keeping both of us crazy busy. Planning for the future and thinking about all that's ahead of us can be a little overwhelming at times.

{Now go read THIS and then come back to this post.}

We have so much to be happy about.

Yesterday was Sunday. The day was super warm, we had just gotten out of the dedication for the Provo City Center temple, and we decided to go for a drive. It was a spontaneous decision. We drove around in the hills above Provo -- holding hands, looking at houses, dreaming about the future, discussing the present.

It was not a profoundly significant drive. We didn't make any major decisions. I don't even remember exactly what we talked about.

But sitting there in our old beater car with my handsome husband of nearly 3 months was pure bliss.

We have so much to be happy about.

You know what the best part is?

Every Sunday is like that. The activities vary, but the feeling is always the same. We spend time together, thinking about God and our relationship with Him. Thinking about our little family and what lies in our shared future.

Sundays with my husband are the absolute best.

FAMILIARITY

Michael & I met in the summertime. We lived about 106 (we counted once) steps from each other's front door. We were both living with our best friends and were busy with summer jobs and school, but we spent almost every spare minute together!

*the first picture we ever took together*

I remember one night in June talking to my roommate/best friend about familiarity. Michael & I didn't quite have it yet. We did in some ways, but in others I was only beginning to learn about him, and he about me. My friend and I talked about how nice it must be to have familiarity with someone. Share absolutely everything. Tell secrets, and know they'll be kept. Feel their hand in yours. Talk about dreams & hopes. Know their wardrobe inside and out. Cry ugly tears. Laugh it out later. Confess the past, and forget it together.

In June, I wasn't sure what Michael & I would be in the future. I had high hopes that our relationship would continue to progress, and that I would feel that sense of familiarity with him. I hoped, and wondered, and waited. 

And time unfolded. 

Now, we have our little house together where we burn candles to cover up bad smells and dance in the kitchen and hang up our wedding pictures in whatever frames we can get our hands on and cry and complain and laugh and confide and sing and I truly, truly couldn't be happier. 

The familiarity is there. It's growing, and I'm sure it will still be growing 20 years from now. But it's here now in one way or another and I LOVE IT.