Flotsam

Here I am, back from vacation. My first vacation in a scandalously long time. Yesterday I was lounging on my Nearly-In-Laws’ deck, having bacon delivered to me by my Nearly Mother-In-Law, reading a non-school-related book and listening to sheep make low, sheepy noises. Today I am preparing for tomorrow’s return to work, drinking cheap wine, and feeling morose.
The Nearly, by the way, has chosen his new name. Henceforth, he will be known as The Actually. I told him he had to choose from amongst your suggestions, as he was obviously incapable of coming up with anything appropriate on his own. I believe Jul was the first to actually suggest the Actually, so I thank her for saving me from a blog-lifetime of referring to my beloved as Callisthenic Carl and the Let’s Warm Up.

I have other exciting news as well—we have set a final wedding date. You would be surprised at how difficult it is to find a Saturday when fifty people are all a) in the country and b) not otherwise engaged in Unmissable Events. But we have done it, and the date on which I shall officially shackle myself to the Actually’s side is May 26th, 2007.
I admit that part of the allure of this day is that it falls on Memorial weekend, thus allowing me to take one vacation day fewer for our subsequent honeymoon in Chicago. Hurrah for paid company holidays! Now all we need is a wedding venue, a task I have turned over to the Actually, as he has deemed every single one of my suggestions unacceptable.
But, back to my vacation. Four days with the in-laws may sound strikingly unappealing to you, but my NILs are uncharacteristically sane, and I had a delightful time. Of course, they think I am a drunk, but other than that…
You see, the Nearly (GAH! The Actually!) does not drink. His family are not teetotalers, but they are a far cry from my family, for whom cocktail hour–followed by wine with dinner, followed by after dinner libations—is a sacred ritual handed down through the mists of time.
The first time I went out for dinner with the NILs, I ordered a Manhattan, not realizing that I would be the only person at the table not consuming a Coca Cola product. This is an incident that has repeated itself many times–as recently as this past Monday, when I ordered a Mojito with my grilled cheese. Anyway, kindly eager to accommodate my strange alcoholic whims, the NIls have taken to assuring me each time I visit that they have been wine shopping the night before to prepare. For Christmas last year, they bought me a large and elaborate tabletop corkscrew. And for this visit, they scheduled something they knew I would enjoy: a trip to a winery, replete with tastings. It was, in a word, Delissshhhhhous.

But the highlight of the vacation for me was getting to know the town fifteen minutes from the NILs’ house, the town where I hope to be WILL BE (the Actually demands that I think positively) attending graduate school two years from now. I think I have a crush on this town. We found a restaurant at which I had the best sandwich of my life, re-visited a bookstore I adore, and walked down a cobble-y street containing an apothecary of sorts (which the Actually forcibly removed me from, as he hates smelly things, even when they are expensive, creamy, and shea-butter-based) and a pet shop where I saw this kitten:

To be honest, that picture does not do justice to the extreme adorability of this animal. Here is a more accurate rendering:

It gives you a pain to look at, doesn’t it? A pain of cuteness.
Anyway, the only reason that kitten (and probably one of his littermates as well) isn’t on my lap this very instant is that the required adoption application would have taken three days to process, and we were leaving in two. That and the fact that we could either afford to buy Skeeter (so named, the pet-rescue-lady informed us, for his bug-like appearance) or pay our rent. Foolishly, we chose the latter, and now I am haunted by a plaintive meow.

Where was I?
Ah yes, my town-crush. It is a beautiful place, with a river, and a sort of fountain-y square where children were standing in the water and screeching (how I wished I had children, and thus an excuse to splash around in the wet—it was hella, hella hot). The Actually and I strolled about, him musing aloud that this would be a perfect place to raise a young child, me fantasizing about the hall of card catalogs I had seen in the university library:

And here are two other pictures from my trip:

Taken out the car window on the way down:

Taken in the university library, tears of joy and awe sparkling in my eyes: