Some days I am utterly convinced that this man I married is 300 years my senior- 300 years more experienced, 300 years more knowledgeable and wise. You often find people who are passionate about something, and because of that passion, they are good at or know a great deal about that thing they love. But it isn't often that you find someone who is so good at and knows so much about so many very different things. His mediocre easily out-does my excellent, and often. I am in awe of the fact that he loves me. I am humbled. I am grateful. I am honored. And somewhere in all of those feelings there is the hint of an idea- if he's so great and so wise and so careful, and he actually CHOSE me to be by his side forever, then I must be pretty amazing too. And then I feel something... wonderful... hope. And I am happy.

I can't get enough of this "being farmers" thing.

Our garden boxes are manifesting life better than I expected. Being new to the summer in the Phoenix valley I'm surprised anything lives. The cucumbers took a mighty hit when we transplanted them, but they are finally recovering and soon I'll be bottling pickles! The zucchini is flourishing. Was it a mistake to plant so many zucchini plants? I'm suddenly a little worried-what am I going to do with it all? There's a limit to how much zucchini bread one can eat.

The house we're living in is the one Danny grew up in. His parents have asked us to help them get it ready to sell, which means renovation. Awesome! I have so many ideas. I have spent, and will spend, and love spending countless hours at Home Depot and Lowe's and other home improvement stores. I have dozens of pictures from magazines and HGTV.com. It's hard to remember that this house is not mine and won't ever be, so it's not my design taste that counts in the end. Oh well, it's practice. I have painted five or six different colored splotches on the walls in the bathroom. I thought I was pretty good at choosing paint colors, but this house has proven otherwise. The paint in my sewing room/ Danny's office, for instance, was supposed to be a warm, happy, spring time yellow. It looks like banana cream pudding. Not my favorite, but it's ok in some lighting. I keep telling myself that the light in Arizona has a different quality to it, and that's why all my color choices have been flops. Who knows, maybe that's true.

Jack, the cat has almost taken up residence in and around the chicken coop because of the sudden population boom of the grey mouse. He's always on the hunt. The other day I woke up to Jack knocking all the cereal off the top of the refrigerator trying to get at a mouse. This morning I watched him catch one and play with it the way Danny plays with Jack. He knocked him around a bit and teased him. The mouse surprised me by getting really close to Jack, sniffing him and pawing at him; like he wasn't afraid.

Our chickens make me feel like a real farmer. I love getting up at 4:30 (when Danny gets up for work) to feed the animals and water the plants. The pre-dawn light, the cooler air, the chickens waking up, Jack begging and begging and begging for food. Can't wait for cows and sheep and horses!

Nearly two months already!

In a few days Danny and I will have been married for two months. It's not a very long time; we're still in the thick of the honeymoon phase-true, but I am glad to say that I am grateful every day for him.