navy days

I'm making that a new label for my posts - anything that has to do with random days in the life will get that label. After all, it seems as if most of the days are dictated by what the Navy has laid out for us at the time. I'm not complaining, just stating the facts.


Friday night, Andrew and I had a perfect date. I was craving steak and he was sweet enough to take me downtown to get my fix. And he let us throw caution to the wind and not worry so much about the price, for the sake of having a fancy evening out. It's nice to do that every once in a while, no?

We ended up at Cypress which, on the inside, made us feel more like we were in some swanky NYC restaurant (can't wait for that, by the way!) than the lowcountry. The ceiling had lights that faded from green to blue to purple to red to orange. One wall was a giant winerack. Like, four floors and 50ft across, with a spiral staircase leading up to each level. Impressive, I know. We enjoyed butternut squash soup, steak for me/salmon for Andrew and wine. We finished it off with a molten chocolate cake, which is never a bad idea. All of the ingredients were local (be still my beating heart) and the waiter was funny. He made the most out of his Y chromosome by being just charming enough at the girls-weekend-out-woo-hoo tables to get what I'm sure was a pretty decent tip. He's a genius, really.


I say it was perfect, because we leisurely enjoyed a meal and Andrew drank coffee so he wasn't falling asleep at 8:30. We caught up with each other. We laughed. We made fun of the Chicago accents at the table next to us. Perfect.


Saturday he spent the day studying and I shopped. It felt a lot like the days of yore when he was at OCS and I was desperate for distraction. I picked up an iced coffee at Starbucks (where I'm trying to work part time, by the way. Operation: Be Around People Again is underway) and talked to my mom for the first time all week from a bench in the sunshine. Also perfect. Then I found a pair of Lucky jeans for $40 and I don't have to tell you how that made me feel.


Today, the day of rest, we went to church where I was backup in the Sunday School class and helped keep little boys from beating each other with cardboard swords (the armor of God) and tried to keep my heart from melting at the curls on one little 5-year-old girl with pink socks and black shoes. Her name was Emma, of course, because the cute ones always have names like Emma. We went to lunch with some new friends, which is always good for the soul. Andrew watched a football game and I napped. He played with my hair the entire time I slept, because he's the sweetest man God ever put on this earth. The Panthers won and he went back to school for a few hours. It's a two-test week, which is sure to be a doozy.


In his absence, I morphed into the whole wheat version of Betty Crocker: vidalia onion-honey dijon dressing to go on a salad with my leftover steak, homemade granola, pumpkin muffins and apple turnovers. Andrew may be the sweetest man God ever put on this earth, but he met his match in the ladies department. Am I allowed to say that without sounding vain? And Michael Buble was on Pandora - because how can you listen to this song and not be in a good mood - and the windows were open. It was a good evening and I made sure of it.


Weekends like this, with the good and the bad, remind me of how unbelievably good God is. Good for keeping me sane when my husband is gone, good for keeping us together when I'm not sane, good for giving us friends and church that understands. Good, good, good.


Amen?