1 Year!

Happy anniversary, happy anniversary, happy anniversary... Haaappy Anniversary! (sung to a tune which I know, but don't know the name of...) So, Emily and I were married a year ago today. It has been a very good year. Last night, Emily and I went through a list of fun and exciting (and some less exciting) things we have done over the past year. It has been so great that I have a hard time remembering what it was like not being married. Yay for being married!!!

-Richard

A Steamy Relic of the Past

What you see here is the result of rational yet "heated" (zing!...you'll get in a second...) debate. Yesterday, I implored of Emily that we get an iron because I've recently gotten some shirts that require ironing. However, I foolishly advocated a trip to Target for this purpose. Alas, such a trip would cost much more than the benefits, no doubt, as Emily quickly instructed me. And so, in Emily's economical wisdom, I was counseled that we rather visit Goodwill to find the iron I desired.

It turns out that Emily's sagacious recommendation proved its worth the moment we entered Goodwill. The store had a smell that shouted "bargains!" I went straightaway to the appliances section and we were faced down by a plethora of irons. I was not prepared for irons in plethoric proportions and so we made another rational decision: each of us chose our favorite. I was immediately drawn to the beauty of the iron you see in the small picture above. It may be hard to see it from the picture but the nostalgic essence that permeated my being simply from glancing at this model of perfection was overwhelming. It beckoned a period when irons were irons, and washing boards were washing boards.

Moments later I was plugging it so that she (I use the pronoun "she" here because her name is Bertha), may prove to us that she could handle the ironing I so desperately longed for. What joy when the element was heated and we felt the warmth of an iron that had doubtless made passes at numberless concourses of fabrics. I made my exultation known to Emily through beaming eyes and smile. She acquiesced to its purchase. And that is how we came to own "Bertha."

Splurging

With some unexpected car issues in the past few months (partially paid for by Mama and Papa Peterson, thank you, thank you, thank you), we've had to cut a few corners in our budget.

Then, last weekend, we were walking to Harris Teeter and saw a Johnny Rockets (50's-style diner) on the way. We looked at each other and both said at the same time "let's eat there!!" This is only the third or fourth time in our marriage that we have eaten out (unless certain parental units were paying for it... thank you, thank you, thank you again!).

All through our $20-combined meal, we kept on saying to each other "I can't believe we're eating out!!" We were pretty giddy about it for the rest of the day, and actually for a few days after. It was quite the splurge for us.

This got me thinking about "splurging," and why people splurge. My guess is that people like the euphoria of temporarily living at a higher/more expensive level than they are used to. Makes sense -- that's how we felt. Then I thought, what if we did eat out a lot? Then what would we have to do to get that same feeling?

It's interesting the splurging doesn't feel like splurging if you are "living large" all the time. I guess an unexpected benefit of being poor is that moderate indulgances like eating at Johnny Rocket means a lot more!