Tis the Season

I wish I could accurately describe the excitement that I feel when I see a neon sign posted to a telephone pole or staked on the street corner; the ones that display proud dark arrows and guide you directly to hidden treasure. Yes ladies and gentlemen, yard sale season is here again. I saw the first sign last weekend and was reassured that spring had indeed come. Yesterday our good friend Beth accompanied Ben and I on a day's outing to Wilmington for some fishing and yummy grilled food with his parents. Just a mile from his house we happened upon a gigantic yard full of things for sale. The hunt is what I love. And then the bartering - which is left to my Aunt Carol when I'm with her because no one is better than she at bringing down the price. [aside: I've been under her tutelage since 1993 and still have much to learn from her]. Amidst the old Christmas decorations and used VHS I stumbled upon a beautiful Kodak Duaflex ii.

Five dollars later I was it's proud owner. Just ordered some film for it and plan on trying it out this weekend for some engagement portraits!

While it's totally acceptable and enjoyable to sale without a plan or purpose, I am on the lookout for a few items this summer:

I would love to find a tiny little blackboard to hang in the kitchen for list keeping and such.

Also, I've been craving a good cup of tea - but more so craving a good little piece of pretty china. Nothing fancy, just delicate and unique.

The guests at our wedding reception enjoyed homemade soups on fine china that we borrowed (that's right, she let us borrow 150+ fine china plates), from one of Dayton's premier shoppes The Gathering Basket and the sweet owner, Angie, gave me the beautiful plate at my setting. So I have one fabulous china plate and will be on the lookout for at least three more. Would actually prefer that they don't match.

I would LOVE to hear about your yard sale finds this summer!

Dear Neglected Blog

I realize that as of late I have been neglectful towards this, my first and dear blog. My apologies. Spring has [somewhat] sprung here in good ol' Columbus. We had some fabulous spring weather this past week only to be left speechless on the sidewalk yesterday in 45 degree weather... I packed away my winter clothes one sunny day about a month ago with the logic that if they were unaccessible, I wouldn't need them any longer. Circumstance has undermined such logic. Nonetheless, I can say without at doubt that I've never been so grateful and so ready for the sights and smells and sounds of spring. It's good to see green again.

Ben and I have been just as busy as the coming spring time -- He's well into the last quarter of his first year of grad school. Just as his schedule begins to wind down mine will pick up. I've got seven weddings booked this summer from Michigan to Ohio to Tennessee to Alabama and will be second-shooting for a local company. I couldn't be more excited about the upcoming wedding season! Just did some engagement shots for a couple getting married in Columbus in June

But let me back-track a bit to catch you up on things since our snow man. My sweet friends Rose and Claire came up for a quick visit in the middle of February. We'd been planning to start a shared blog which would serve as a means to stay in touch and stay creative. You can visit the blog here and read all about the 100 new things we each want to do over a set period of time -- It's been a blast and began with a fabulous photo shoot during their February visit. [I realize this may seem like the new baby in a momma's life and therefore the reason why I've neglected this first, older blog. But nay. I promise we've just been super busy]. Here's a taste of the fun we had that day

www.redbrownblonde.blogspot.com

A week later I escaped snowy Ohio for a week's time and enjoyed a surplus of sunshine in St. John with my mom, sister, aunt and grandma as we stayed with our generous hosts Mama and Papa Glass. It was so great to be away with everyone for even a short time. I've been listening to Kenny Chesney nonstop since my return.

The weekend I returned from paradise, I took part in a photography exhibit in our church. Myself and two other photographers showed work that portrayed patience. For two months leading up to the show I experimented (and failed several times) with an old polaroid sharp shooter. It was a great experience and definitely stretched my skill level - This is one of the polaroids displayed. Our friends Jake and Nichole now have an adorable little boy named Atlee.

Last November Ben was accepted to 32 Poems, a journal out of Texas Tech. They only publish 64 poems a year- sweet right?! The week we received the publication two more of his poems were accepted to Tar River Poetry out of North Carolina. He's such a little writer!

Somewhere along the lines our car got broken into and the stereo was taken - that was a bummer. Then someone helped themselves to a grand out of our banking account... All is working out though- just a few little bumps along the way.

We spent Easter with Ben's family in Wilmington. It was good to be together again. Easter is one of those holidays that seems to be even more fun when there are little ones - and there are four! We decorated cupcakes, had an egg hunt, played some corn hole and shot bee-bee guns.

I recently finished a non-fiction book called The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan who gives a very vulnerable, honest and somewhat witty account of her struggle with breast cancer and her father's simultaneous fight with bladder cancer. Would recommend it to anyone, but especially if you or your loved one has experienced this emotional rollar coaster. I'm also reading Eat Pray Love -- it's interesting and I plan on finishing it (hoping to see the movie this summer, too), but will admit that at times I find it a bit slow. My sister-in-law was proudly toting around Dolly Parton's autobiography which admittedly sounds fascinating - maybe that's next on the reading list...?

Got this great cookbook yesterday at a library sale for one dollar! It's an alphabetical all-you-need-to-know about cooking and I've already learned a lot. "Clever Cook's Kitchen Handbook:" Love it.

Hopefully it won't be this long before we meet again little blog.

One Must Have a Mind of Winter

The most disappointing thing about big girl world, to date, is that there are no snow days. It's particularly disappointing now that I live in a state that actually accumulates a significant amount of white powder. It started snowing sometime in the middle of the night, and hasn't stopped. Almost 16 hours of flakes that have no intention of ceasing until tomorrow night. Fortunately, these flakes are prime snow man flakes. After work, I made my way to various stores looking for gloves. I admit that I'm a bit late in the season, but I was shocked to be informed by multiple places that they were out of gloves. They offered me bathing suits instead. I then picked an exhausted husband up from school; he and his bike and his headache were waiting for me outside when I pulled up. I let him rest and gave him some Midol, putting on my best "pretty please" face. We bundled up and went out back to find inches of snowy potential.

Our first attempt was far too small, so we tried again. We had a great time - it was my first snow man! He's a bit lopsided, and his poor eyes kept falling off.

We didn't officially name him, but I think "Bruce" suits him.

Ben read "The Snow Man" by Wallace Stevens, to christen our creation. The whole event was just fantastic.

One must have a mind of winter

To regard the frost and the boughs

Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time

To behold the junipers shagged with ice,

The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of January sun; and not to think

Of any misery in the sound of the wind,

In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land

Full of the same wind

That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,

And, nothing himself, beholds

Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens

02-05-08

December of 2007, Ben and I had been dating for almost two years and I began a notebook full of thoughts and letters that I intended to give him on our wedding day. Part of the February 4th, 2008 entry reads: “... just think of all the adventures that lie ahead!”

The next night, some girls from the art department enjoyed an uncharacteristic night out of the studio. We shared a fantastic meal together prepared by one of our fellow students that grew up in Africa – the feast was absolutely delicious. The last three days had also been an uncharacteristic 65 degrees, and we were loving every minute of this midwinter sunshine. The weathermen suggested some possible storms, but we brushed them off as precautionary warning. We watched some clouds roll in and traded tornado stories while we enjoyed the chicken curry with the door and windows open. My old room mate Rose and I laughed as we expressed what a good last meal this would be.

Our university was settled just off Highway 40, half way between Memphis and Nashville; we'd been under tornado watches and warning countless times. The sirens would go off in the city and in our dorm rooms, so we'd spend a few minutes in the bathtub talking about the homework we still had to finish. If nothing had progressed within five minutes, we'd flip on the weather channel, pop some popcorn, duct tape a pillow over the intercom and go back to work.

I called my mom after dinner, just to let her know the weather was being a bit funny. I knew if she had heard it from her weatherman, and not from me, I'd be in trouble. I told her not to worry and we'd talk soon. After supper, we migrated back to art studio and picked up on our various projects. A fellow student turned the radio on and we listened as our county was among the ones under watch. We worked in the studio until someone stepped outside to hear the sirens going off and a bit of rain start to fall, at which point several of us gathered our things and huddled under two umbrellas as we made our way back to our dorm rooms.

Rose poured me a glass of milk while I closed all the blinds, knowing the RA would be around soon to make sure we were in the bathroom... We sat in front of the TV and heard about a touchdown in Memphis, just an hour south of us, and a sighting of two more. We pulled out some oreos. It wasn't long before the lights began to flicker, but they didn't go off. We transplanted ourselves and our sweet snacks to Rose's room which faced the courtyard between the girls and boys housing complexes. We laughed as we remembered our first tornado siren experience during our freshman year. We five room mates lived on the second story, so we obediently made our way downstairs to find our neighbors huddled in the tiny bathroom, yelling for us to get in fast or they would shut the door. Things looked a bit tight in the bathroom with five girls already fighting for room in the tub, so we opted for the room in the back right, similar to the one Rose and I were in now. Only weeks into our first semester, the five of us took turns leaning out the large window and catching hail pieces on our tongues. Twenty minutes later, we were back in our rooms above, doing math homework.

This is Rose, you've met her before [here].

This time though, the rain let up and the wind just increased. We watched the sky turn a unique shade of hazy purple as we lounged on her bed. I glanced at the clock wondering how long we'd be quarantined; it was 7 p.m. already. A gust of wind, a small window shake and we looked out to see the several trash cans blow past. This hasn't happened before; it was supposed to be settling down by now. I had been in contact with Ben who recently snuck out of the cafeteria and back to his room. It wasn't until the patio furniture followed the trash cans that Rose quickly jumped up, “Lily, lets go.” She ran to the bath tub and I to the next bedroom to grab pillows and blankets just in time to hear shattered glass from the windows all around me. I screamed as Rose yelled my name and I ran back to the bathroom to see her crouched in the tub; then the loudest sounds of crashing and breaking and tearing I've ever heard. I had been standing in the doorway, arms full of blankets and within seconds found myself on the ground against the door. There was a warm wind of my face and silence. Absolute perfect still. My mouth was full of dirt and there was a shooting pain in my arm. There was nothing I could think or say but utter Oh, God, Oh God, Please, God. Rose, where was Rose? Rose? Lily, are you okay? Is it over? – Lily, we're okay, Jesus protected us, we're okay and we're safe. No, there's more, Rose. There's more coming. She made her way over to me and held me. I looked around. Just over Rose's silhouette I saw the tree outside our dorm room. I glanced to the right toward the front door and saw the dorm room across from us. The storm had made a doll house out of room. If there were more coming, we wouldn't make it. We sat there, with no direction in the most terrifying silence I've ever heard. I began to weep. It felt like several minutes had past before I heard something in the distance. I wished it was Ben. Ben? Where was Ben, was he ok? I had my phone in my hand just a minute ago, but no track of it now. By the third yell, I could make out my name. It came closer and closer and louder, “Lily!” The first sound to break the silence was Ben calling my name, running to find me. I yelled back, directing him through the gash in the wall where our shower unit used to be. He knelt down and embraced both Rose and I, reassuring over and over that we were okay. Once we stood, he used his headlamp to check for blood and then embraced me again – the pain shot through my arm and my back. Somehow Rose had lost one shoe; Ben went to her room to find another. She looked at me and asked 'what just happened?' After giving her a second shoe, Ben rubbed her head and found a large knot. By this time, people quietly began making their way out of their rooms, helpless, looking for any sort of direction. Swarms of boys made their way through the standing frames of the rooms, yelling girls names, helping them out of the rubble. Students were yelling to one another to make their way to the academic building which, just 300 yards away, had been untouched. We climbed over rubble and rooftop and boards and furniture until we found the sidewalk and met thousands of other students in the packed hallways. Names were being yelled, people were pushing. We made it to the main hall where the nursing students had already set up first aid stations, making bandages and wraps out of t-shirts. Trails of blood lead into the bathrooms. Rose and I sat while Ben went to look for help. “Wait, what's going on? Where is Andrew? Is he okay?” Andrew was Rose's boyfriend who she hadn't talked to for quite a while. I tried to answer her questions but had so many myself. A nursing student checked her eyes and her pulse and several other things. She was so patient and understanding; they looked at me and told me to keep talking to her. Ben paced down the hall as he tried to get a hold of my parents. “Mary, it's Ben. Are you okay? Well, it hit. It really happened, it really hit? We're okay, we're in a safer building; Lily's in a little pain but we're okay.” Administration had arrived by this time and were yelling directions down the hall. “I have to go but I'll call back soon.” I can't imagine the uncertainty and helplessness that my mother, along with every other parents felt that night, miles and miles from their children.

This is Rose's room and big window. October, 2007.

Bottom left is that window, post tornado. Bottom right is the outside of the bathroom that Rose and I were in.

Rose continued to ask the same questions. Wait, exactly what happened? I told her. Are you okay? Yes. Am I ok? Yes. Is my mom ok; does she know I'm ok? She's far way, she's ok and we're trying to call her. Where's Andrew? We're looking. Are there more tornados coming? I don't know.

This repeated for the next hour as we were directed into one classroom. We were counted and told to write our names on a list being passed around. Twenty minutes in there and then we were lead down the hallway where we sat in uncertainty for another hour. The reality sunk in for Rose when she realized she realized her shoes were different. I watched her as she stared at her feet and without a word, began to cry. She was comforted when Andrew finally found us; she asked him the same questions. Once it was decidedly safe to leave the building, we were told faculty and staff were coming to pick us up. Surrounding church members were opening their homes, too. Another hour and we heard cars weren't being allowed on campus. Five of us snuck out the back door and began walking to meet a student who was off campus and now waiting for us with his card in the shopping center across the street. It was still warm out. Sirens filled the air. We passed a large mail truck turned on it's side in the ditch. We walked until we heard someone scream Ben's name and then piled into a faculty member's mini van. Rose was asking less questions, remembering only the answers I had given to her. She and I sat in the front seat and she commented on the resemblance of our driver to Joey Fatone of N'sync. We travelled back road after back road until we reached a house with a basement. Several people were there already. We were finally able to reach Rose's mom and I was able to talk to my parents. The rest of the night was spent in the emergency room as Rose's head was examined and my arm was x-rayed. I sat by Rose's bed and we watched breaking news stories about our own university flash across the tv screen. There were still students trapped. We later learned that upon seeing the damage, the chief of police had contacted the hospital, asking they prepare room for at least two hundred bodies. Two students were trapped for several hours, but by the next day, everyone had been accounted for – not one life lost in the wake of an F-4 tornado. It was the most terrifying and the most miraculous thing I have ever experienced.

That night Rose and I slept at a fellow church member's house. I dreamt of about throwing some pots, but they kept spinning and spinning and getting off-centered, then collapsing. Our families lost no time in coming to Jackson. The next afternoon, we made our way back onto campus and reunited with faces we hadn't yet seen. There were many tearful embraces as we saw the damage in the light of day and realized just how blessed we were. The perimeter of the campus was lined with local food vendors giving away lunches, the Red Cross handing out hygiene products, and the National Guard making their rounds, assuring no one entered the unstable site. News reporters captured images and interviews as students and their families stood in lines, waiting to hear if they could re-enter their dorm rooms or look for their cars. We were able to get within two hundred feet of the room Rose and I were in and saw the piece of roofing that had punctured the siding and wall, turning the entire shower unit 90 degrees.

She was doing better, but it was months before Rose remembered details that I hadn't given her. Our teeth were chipped and broken in many places from the impact. My left arm was useless for about a month as the bruises and tissues healed – I must have raised it to protect my face. I spoke with many caring individuals over the next month, but grew weary of telling the same story and reliving the experience. One of my mom's friends called to check on me and had this to say in comfort, “Well I got the shit scared 'outta me when I was 32. Looks like you learned you're not invincible a bit earlier.” She was right. Another older gentleman told me to write it all down because one day I wouldn't remember it so clearly. So I did, and two years later, I'm glad I followed his advice.

All two story dorms - some completely leveled, others half gone, others untouched.

This is the doll-house look.

The clock tower stopped at the time the tornado hit: 7:02 p.m.

Classes resumed just two weeks after the storm had hit; it was comforting to return to a sense of predictability. Students found housing with hundreds of hospitable Jackson families that opened up their homes for the rest of the semester. Unbelievable acts of generosity were shown to the community of Union University from all around the nation and construction on the new dorm buildings began immediately. God's power was evident that night, but his grace and mercy and protection even more obvious. A few weeks following our return, we listened as Kirby Atkins spoke at church, describing the cross as a means to an end, that end being us. It was love that drove the sacrifice – it could be related to a man running into a burning building to save his wife. I wept as I had just so recently experienced that kind of love and desire from Ben – he ran into that dark silence, screaming my name. Never before had I so personally understood the state of need and helplessness that is life before Christ.

Before and after aerial view of the residence complexes. More photos can be seen here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/unionuniversity/2252802829/in/photostream/

Grandma Gleneale

Grandma, Gleneale Zopfi, approx 30 years old.

My grandpa, Poppie, kept the best scrapbooks I've ever seen. Those oversized thick, string bound books that come in a variety of blue and black, proudly wearing the word “Scrapbook” on front. I remember visiting his home and finding him at the the kitchen table, book open with a carefully cut out newspaper article or a recent photo of one of the granddaughters and the smell of rubber cement in the air. He and my aunt have recently been going through these countless books, reminiscing about their time as a family in Germany, California, then Tennessee.

My dad recently came to Columbus for a visit – we enjoyed some fine eateries and a Nashville Predators/Columbus Blue Jackets hockey game. He brought along some pieces of these scrapbooks including, but not limited to, some really great photos of me and my horse taken at the peak of my awkward stage. Seriously, peak. He also brought a letter my grandfather had written, and an old tape that had been saved from my grandparent's answering machine.

We sat and listened to a few messages – one from the local bank regarding their account, one from my mom about some vinegar, and several from fellow church members expressing their concern for my grandmother. Dad informed me that around this time, she had just been admitted to the hospital. Just as I began to tear up, a squeaky quiet voice began, “Hello grandma, I just wanted to say....” These introductions came about every third message. We listened as my four year old self would carefully go into detail about the reason I was calling and then end politely “and this is Lily Anne and my number is 775-1020,” just in case they had forgotten. Most of the messages were requesting permission to come over and bake cookies. My personal favorite was the one in which I sang the intro to Little Mermaid and ended with, “Thank you, that's all.” A few from my older sister: "Grandma, could you come pick us up? Mom and Dad are being sleepy heads." I followed with a call just to say "I love you," but the message was cut off with an urgent “um, I have to go now because I have to use the bathroom.”

They lived a convenient ten minutes from our house. My mom recalls countless occasions of Grandma showing up at our front door, smiling and saying “Lily called.” And off I went to bake cookies, or help her in the garden, or play dress up with their towel collection. They had the most wonderful Lazy Boy rocking chairs and a great backyard full of delicious berries that were consumed by my older sister and I on a regular basis. There was a basket of chewy candies on the very top shelf of the kitchen cabinets and the first thing grandma would do when we entered was lift us up to pick one out. She collected owls. These nocturnal birds of all shapes and sizes decorated the walls and shelves – I found this disturbing as a small child. There were three in particular that ranged in size like Russian stacking dolls – they were made from small sea shells and had piercing eyes that followed you as you rocked back and forth in the lazy boy.

top: Poppie and Grandma with me and my older sister, Jennie at Opryland Hotel, Nashville TN

bottom left: Grandma and I taking a break from dying Easter eggs

bottom right: Poppie taking me for a ride on the sled! Yep, that's how we do it in Tennessee- even if you can still see the grass!

The letter that dad brought had been typed by Poppie eleven years ago, seven years after my grandmother's death. I imagine it was very hard to write, but he did so with an evident peace.

“Talked with her and she responded very naturally, realizing that this might be the last time we would ever have communication with her. The next morning at 10:00 I went to her bedside, spoke her name, she opened her eyes briefly, squeezed her hand but response. So Dave, Mary, Carol and I camped outside the intensive care area for the rest of the day and night. One of us was allowed to be in the room with her. Her blood pressure had gone down; 35 over 15. No struggle whatsoever – never had any pain the whole time – the the line for her heartbeat was just a straight line, and she was with the Lord. We four gathered around her in bed in a circle – held both her hands and committed her to the Lord and his keeping. Now writing this on 2/17/1999 – on January29th, she has been with the Lord for seven years. Her one brother, Clifford, had com from Wisconsin to see her about three days before her death. We also brought Jennie and Lily in to see her briefly. She could not speak, so she wrote notes – have them under plastic in my scrapbook – some are quite humorous – strictly Gleneale right down to the end.”

Too young to understand, my sister and I kept ourselves occupied with our famous bubble letter drawings and wrote notes to grandma in the waiting room at the hospital. Our cousins came down from Michigan, and together we diligently worked on a note that collectively said “I love you” in the biggest, proudest bubble letters you'd ever seen. It took all six of us to hold it up, being held up by our parents, in front of her hospital bed. I didn't know why, but she couldn't speak, so we thought the letter would be best. She smiled big and mouthed “I love you.” Those were her last words to her six granddaughters, something my family has always seen as a blessing. Poppie's letter continued:

“Lily Anne was “grandma's girl” – were together often – would phone Gleneale often and say “Grandma, can you come over and get me?” They loved to bake cookies together. At the viewing, Lily was disturbed that her Grandma was not moving. Had to explain that was just the body she lived in but that she was with the Lord Jesus in heaven. That very night Lily had a dream that she was up in Heaven with Grandma – she held her in her arms like she used to do. She said it was all beautiful up there, everything white and gold. And then Lily said “over there in the corner was the empty casket – she wasn't in there anymore, she was alive!” She told this dream to Mary the next morning. Even though Lily still missed her very much, she knew that her Grandma was alive. I still wear Gleneale's wedding ring on the little finger of my left hand-- right beside my wedding band.”

I don't remember much about the funeral except that I was pouting through most of it because I didn't get to sit in the front row, closest to Grandma. We spent the night at Poppie's house and it felt empty and unusual. I still remember the dream Poppie wrote about. I saw myself sleeping in the room we always slept in at their house – grandma woke me and lead me up the most beautiful winding trail. She gave me a personal tour of her new room and assured me that she was well and happy there. She did hold me tight and reminded me that she loved us all very much. Content, I ran back down the trail by myself and reported it all to my mom the next morning.

This past Friday was the 18th anniversary of Grandma's death. I cherish the few memories I have of our time together and still enjoy homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Now I wear Grandma's wedding band; I couldn't have asked for a more precious, meaningful wedding gift, or for a more loving, memorable grandmother.

One Year Down... Sixty to go!

Ben had been dropping little hints for about a week. “You need a bathing suit.” And double checking my work schedule every couple of days. “It's nothing big, so don't get excited.” “It's a surprise! I don't care what it is, I'm excited!” I love the anticipation that comes with a surprise. Good surprises, not bad ones that you weren't expecting that ruin your day, those are surprise disappointments. I think the joy lies in the fact that someone cares enough to plan all these little details just for you. “Do you want to know?” “No!” “What about just a hint.” “OK, give me a hint.” “.... I'm not giving hints.”

Saturday comes along and we bundle up to play with Bodie, the Border Collie mix that we were puppy-sitting, in the four inches of fresh snow. We were enjoying some hot chocolate and folding freshly laundered clothes when Ben hands me a piece of paper. It's got a photo of a tall building and a check-in time. The bag is packed, the dog is returned safely home, and in true Glass Adventure Style, we took a roll of film. We drove ten minutes into the downtown that is Columbus, Ohio... and we got lost. After dominating the one way streets, we find the majestic Hyatt and stroll right up to the check-in counter ready to be pampered. “I'm sorry, sir, it looks like you've made reservations at the other Hyatt.... It happens all the time.”

We left the fancy hotel, a little weary of what we may find at the next one. More one way streets lead us just miles from our house to the Columbus Convention Center. We pulled up to the front door and were greeted by hundreds of middle aged women with ribbons adorning their necks and baskets on their arms; the Longaberger Leader Conference was the same weekend as our one year anniversary. We recognized this mob of boisterous mom's dressed head to toe in red and yellow; they filled the streets the week we moved into Columbus. Encountering them a second time was no less terrifying.

Round two at the check-in desk and we are surrounded by groups of high school kids laughing and playing games. Their conference was more difficult to pinpoint. A sign informed us that the Model United Nations was being held the next morning. Ben told me he had requested a room with a view, and as our keys were printed out, we were pleased with the 1944 printed on them. The window ran the width of the giant room, providing a 19th story view of south downtown Columbus.

Somehow we managed to steer clear of the two conferences and enjoyed some chocolate covered strawberries and champagne as we watched the sun (which we hadn't seen in two weeks), go down over the city.

We made reservations at a fancy Italian restaurant just down the road – Martini's – where I enjoyed a fabulous ravioli and listened to Ben's endless wine analogies. “it's like (swirl), I'm on a plane – (sniff, sip, swallow), the take off was exciting, but not as good as the ride....(repeat), I am sad that I've landed...”

A brisk walk back to the hotel and I enjoyed a margarita while we watched a movie high over the city. We woke up to more snow, but enjoyed it from a new 19th story perspective as individual flakes fell onto the windowsill. They really are all different! It was a perfect little get away for two people who didn't have much time to get away, and so carefully planned by my sweet, sweet husband. I care more about this man than I ever thought possible, and he loves and serves me more than I could ever have hoped for. Here's to years more, Ben Glass.

Interactive Christmas Card!

Ben and I will be ringing (okay, we rang...), in the new year with some home made mashed potatoes, broiled flank steak and an ancho chile dip.

Don't worry, there will be champagne – that is if I can get Ben to stay up past ten.

We don't have a dog yet, or a baby, so I didn't think twice about sending out a Christmas card this year and immediately regretted the decision the second we received our first jolly greeting in the mail. So consider this an online, interactive Christmas greeting card in place of the one you didn't get from us – complete with photo illustrations – to look back on the last (inaugural) year in the Glass household(s).

Just days after my graduation mid-December, 2008, Ben and I celebrated our last holiday apart. He with his family in Ohio (all sick with the flu), and I with my family in East Tennessee. The countdown to our wedding had been on for months, but we were in double digits now – only ten days away as last year's ball dropped and the calendar page flipped to January. We started the year off in Louisville as our good friend's Tiffany and Josh got married, just a week before Ben and I.

We travelled back to Tennessee immediately to finish all the last minute details. Friends and family arrived, bows were tied and flowers arranged. We lost one tent...

But somehow were able to find another. We became Mister and Missus Glass in the barn on my aunt's property surrounded by our families.

A short drive up the hill and we were greeted by friends and good home-made soups where we danced and ate cake. The whole day was absolutely perfect!

A honeymoon in Hilton Head and then we set up our first apartment on campus in married housing at Union University while Ben began his last semester of undergraduate. A few weeks of job hunting resulted in one of the most enjoyable jobs I've ever had – I was one of four receptionists at a local day spa which employed twenty three fabulous women and one fantastic guy. I dealt with extremely content, relaxed and pampered individuals while surrounded with the most therapeutic sounds and aromas. Ben put up with lots of experimental recipes and did lots of dishes, usually welcoming me home from work with fresh baked cookies. I think we went through five of those huge tubs of cookie dough in the first three months of marriage. My twenty second birthday involved blindfolds and the James Bond theme music as I was kidnapped by Ben and Rose who drove me around and dropped me off in the middle of a kitchen surrounded by friends and good food.

Spring break rolled around and we got to visit Mama and Papa Glass in St. John for a week.

We had lots of fun dinners with friends, celebrating each time Ben heard back from a potential grad school. We had pizza for UNC and pasta for OSU. We visited The Ohio State University on the absolute coldest day of the year, and he was impressed, nonetheless. While he visited with scholars and poets, I self-toured what I now know to be the roughest parts of the city wondering what we were getting into. Ben accepted Ohio State's offer in March. We welcomed a new nephew into the family in May; Ben's older sister had her second baby boy, Casey.

We shoved the last box in the U-Haul just hours before Ben graduated, Magna Cum Laude – Ohio Bound.

After one fabulous Zopfi family cruise to Alaska which involved icebergs, orcas, humpbacks, black bears and a wedding...

....we headed cross continent for a quick visit to see Rufus in Florida.

And then we sold my car.... tragic.

Two weeks of apartment hunting in Columbus were followed by a month of job-hunting. Our welcome to Columbus was a bit rocky...

We moved in the weekend of the 4th of July, which meant everyone was on vacation, including the gas company. No hot water for a week. Ben's car windshield cracked and began leaking. The ceiling in the bathroom had quite the gash, which we were told doesn't leak and would be fixed soon. The first major rainstorm proved that the gash does indeed leak. Thankfully, it was positioned directly over the bath tub. Our 350lb washer broke... My computer crashed and I lost every photo memory of the afore mentioned year's activities. Please take a moment to imagine what kind of emotional breakdown that caused. My car began overheating on a regular basis... Little by little things came together and the new city began to grow on us.

Our lack of responsibilities allowed us to take a weekend in Tennessee where three of my dearest girlfriends met us to celebrate my brother-in-laws birthday– the event became affectionately known as Randy Rice's Birthday Extravaganza (crossing my fingers that this will be an annual event).

I landed a commissioned photo project through a nightlife online directory which required me to snap photos of 900+ restaurants and venues around Columbus. This occupied us for two weeks and conveniently, left us quite acquainted with the city. Ben began preparing for grad school and I trained as a part time barista at a local independent coffeehouse coming home absolutely wired for the first few days as I tried every drink on the menu. A quick trip to Nashville to celebrate the marriage of one of my dearest friends, Rose Rogers, then back to Ohio.

We celebrated Ben's first day of school with a fantastic meal and he dove head first into his course theme of the American Cowboy.

First day of school picture:

I stumbled upon an internship opportunity at a local commercial photography studio and was accepted for the twelve week position, learning a lot of the inner workings of such a big operation. Ben's maternal grandmother, 'Grandma Betty' was diagnosed with breast cancer just days before his birthday. We celebrated his 23rd year with his favorite take and bake pizza, and received updates about his grandmother who underwent a mastectomy just days after. I shot a beautiful friend's wedding in Alabama late October and decided to swing by the old homestead (Tennessee), on the way back to Ohio.

I was met by my strong, optimistic mother who told me of a lump in her right breast she had checked out just that week. The results were back the next day- a very rare type of tumor usually found in the thigh area, rarely malignant. Being just as unique as the woman it inhabited, the tumor was in fact malignant and in her breast, growing rapidly. Within two weeks, the surgery was scheduled and a mastectomy removed any suspicious cells.

Ben and I celebrated Thanksgiving with his family in Wilmington, Ohio. That same day, we got the good news that no further treatment was required for Mom, and Grandma Betty would take a daily, low dose chemotherapy pill, which should have very little side effects. Last Thanksgiving, we had a gingerbread house competition - this year we decorated shirts for the family Christmas card!

It felt like there was no time in between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Ben got great reviews from his students for his first quarter of teaching and I was offered a job at the commercial photo studio! We were able to spend a week in Tennessee for Christmas. We spent Christmas Eve at dad's place and celebrated Christmas Day with some dear friends, Shannon and Jason, who have been selflessly helping Mom out during her recovery. Conveniently for us, Shannon and Jason have a catering business, so I'll just let you imagine how good our Christmas dinner was.

Shannon taught us how to make banana's foster. Oh, she also makes the best margaritas you've ever tasted.

We spent two days with Ben's family and then settled back in our apartment for our first New Years together. Around 7p.m., New Year's Eve, we connected our television for the first time since May. Somehow, Ben was moved with enough compassion to stay awake until midnight with me. We slept in a bit and spent the entire first day of the year on the couch, entertained by Saturday Night Live sketches and our first ever Ohio State Football game -- they defeated the Oregon Ducks in the Rose Bowl! This unprecedented lazy day lead to one conclusion: we need a bigger couch.

It's been snowing for six consecutive days now. Ben rides his bike to school all bundled up like the kid from A Christmas Story. Should he skid and fall off his bike, I expect him to just bounce right back up.
Yesterday, he went back to class and I started my new job at the commercial photo studio, Roharik Productions, as studio manager.

We have been married for 360 days. It's hard to believe that it's been a whole year, but I can honestly say that it's been one of the best. Despite all the changes and bumps along the way, God has been more than merciful and faithful, and Ben has been a constant comfort. Here's to hoping that we'll have a dog by next Christmas so we can send out a real card...

Happy New Year to you all!