Post about a man.

It drives me crazy when Mr. Keller puts away empty bags of chips or cereal, or containers of mustard with one small squirt left. He does it all the time.

I listen to music way too loud. He's always turning it down.

When he clips his beard, he leaves black little shavings in the sink.

I can't count how many times I've been banned from touching the thermostat. He's even threatened to charge me $20 for every time he finds the heat above 75 degrees. Sue me.

Large, dirty man-socks left on the floor each night. Empty laundry basket five feet further.

I don't iron.

He doesn't do dishes.

I don't like to cook.

He loves homemade food.

This list is much longer and almost comical, all written out. It makes me laugh. But mostly, it helps me to see triviality for what it is.

In (almost) seven years, I'm realizing the time that's passed in between the day we moved into that little apartment of Filmore as newlyweds, to having two children together, to now, there's this pattern of growth. Looking back, it's so very marked. For all the times I've felt so strange side by side with my husband, so different and alone, a day or two (or a few more) down the road, we're somehow much closer than before. The symbol of infinity is a sideways figure eight. Together in the middle, and then farther apart at the ends. Then together again. There's no break in the figure. It's sort of like a dance, the symbol is. It goes on and on. I think that's the symbol for marriage.

For the 'things that make me crazy' list, there's a longer, better one, and on it are things that make me smile. Like how when the littles wake up too early, Mr. Keller lets me go back to bed, or how he runs to the store for me on the way home from work if I need something for dinner. Or how comforting it is to me when middle of the night blessings are needed and so readily given.

How comfortable and safe my husband makes me feel. I cannot imagine what my often anxious, worrisome self would do without that. Safety and peace is happiness for me.

There was once a time I wondered if God really knew what he was doing directing me in a path my heart did not want to go down. I'm infinitely grateful I followed where He lead me. He knew I needed Mr. Keller.

 

I've been thinking about this quote. I know I have this. I'm so blessed to be so loved.

 

“What really matters is that he will love you, that he will respect you, that he will honor you, that he will be absolutely true to you, that he will give you the freedom of expression and let you fly in the development of your own talents. He is not going to be perfect, but if he is kind and thoughtful, if he knows how to work and earn a living, if he is honest and full of faith, the chances are you will not go wrong, that you will be immensely happy.”

 

 

-- the sweet Gordon B. Hinckley.

 

Tulips and rolls.

Mr. Keller is never in the wrong, except sometimes he is. It just takes some coaxing to get him to admit it, which he never really fully does. But kind of, with flowers. Which, even still, takes more coaxing. Like two nights ago, in the form of a text.

Me, 5:28pm: Please bring rolls home for dinner tonight, and some white tulips from fred meyer for being such an ass.


Lo and behold!

He's since been forgiven.

Mostly because he's cute.


: )

November Twenty-fifth: Marriage

 {december seventeenth, two thousand and five}

Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last but feelings come and go. And in fact, whatever people say, the state called ‘being in love’ usually does not last. If the old fairy-tale ending ‘They lived happily ever after’ is taken to mean ‘They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married,’ then it says what probably never was nor ever would be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But, of course, ceasing to be ‘in love’ need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense — love as distinct from ‘being in love’ — is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be ‘in love’ with someone else. ‘Being in love’ first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it.

- C.S. Lewis

Happy Love Month!

My sweets,
We made it through the long and dreary month of January; the worst month of the year (my opinion!). What a reason to celebrate!

Here's to things that are sweet, yummy and red! And here's to being able to breathe a little better. March is in sight!

Xoxo,
hrk.

(picture from cafe mom.)

The Wedding, The Reception, The Bongiovis, and some other stuff.

Last Thursday, our baby Megan grew right on up and got married. It was a beautiful temple ceremony which we all decided that Megan and Drew may have been too starry-eyed to remember later on, but we will all never forget it.  

The temple sealer was the cutest old man I've ever seen, and may or may not have slightly resembled the great Yoda. We did some figuring and realized he must have been in his nineties, if not the very latest eighties. He was sweet and heartfelt and told Drew he'd be wise to never forget her birthday. Then, by the end, he told us that as we congratulated them after he was done talking, to remember we were still in the sacred temple and to not be 'too hilarious'.

We are still giggling about that.

Old(er) people are just so cute! (And awesome!)

The best part for me was getting to sit next to my sweetheart, and seeing Stacy with tears in her eyes at having all of her children in the temple with her. There's something so sweet about coming full circle.

Friday, after work, we tucked our child in tightly and drove home for the wedding reception. We listened to  old Weezer songs the whole way there. All the while, I was thinking that there might be a rule somewhere about being parents and (not) listening to Weezer. Ah, well. The best thing about the whole evening was driving the country roads home with delicious fields of mint and corn on each side.

We got off the exit just as the sun went down and spent the next twenty minutes with our hands out the windows. Summer at home is my favorite. And dusk in the summer at home is even better, when the fields have been watered and cooled.

I almost always claim to be a country girl at heart. Each summer, it's reaffirmed.

For the reception, Jar and I were in charge of decorating. It was million degrees outside and the beautiful hydrangea flowers wilted as soon as we put them on the table, which wasn't so great. It was a slight fiasco, really. (Especially for an OCD gal like me.) But, overall, we had a lovely time. I enjoyed following Megan (and Drew) around with my camera, and watching Jared catch up with our old friends.

As for the time inbetween my last post and now - our computer had issues (again) and was in the shop (again). It's up and running (again), but we'll see how it goes.

Visit here for more pictures of the wedding.

PS- We get to stage a home for the Parade of Homes this weekend. The staging will take place tonight, and it just may turn into a big nightmare. But, once again, we'll see how it goes. Alas, the theme of our lives these days.

Cross your fingers. (And say a prayer!) (For me!)

Love you all,

Hollie Rae

{photo by Moments By Kellee}

Bongiovi Wedding Pictures: A few (out of 849).

A great escape.

We spent last weekend in Wyoming, just us two. It was a million degrees outside, but it looked like spring everywhere we went. Everything was entirely green and delicious. It's pretty much a dream there. I kept feeling like Anne of Green Gables, pinching myself to make sure it was all real. It was real. And very romantic. And with names like Star Valley and Tincup and Grey's Lake, I'm sure Anne would approve, too. (Aren't they such lovely names?)

We had such a lovely time.

{and then he crashed. which was very funny.}

flowers: to me, from jared.

PS - Thanks to c&s keller for grandparenting morgan while we were gone!

Black Pepper.

{Camping May 2008}

Dear JLK:

Remember when I came to your place of employment this afternoon to bring to you your cell phone (because you left it at home this morning), and a cranberry-apple juice slush (because I'm such an awesome wife)?

Remember when I saw you, and you smiled, and I started giggling because you had a big piece of black pepper stuck between your teeth!

And remember while I was laughing, you started laughing, because I had one stuck between my teeth too! (Even though we ate separate lunches!)

And remember, while we were laughing really, really hard, you said to me that this was proof that you and I were meant to be!

For one, it felt good to laugh that much. And two, yes, I believe we were. (Meant to be together, that is.)

And lastly, life with you is really, really great. And we're so funny (and awesome). We really are.

Matching peppered teeth and all.

Over and out,
Your BFF,
HRK

Ten ways I know I married my best friend.

May 2008

Me, Jared, and Baby Morgan (in my tummy)

1. We laugh at the same things.

2. He brings me drinks of water in bed.

3. When he's out to dinner at restaurants without me,

he orders my favorite and brings me leftovers.

4. He kisses my forehead.

5. If he goes to bed early, he turns on my heating pad

so it's warm when I lay down.  (Now, if that's not love...)

6. He cleans the George Foreman.

7. He forgave me for biting him (hard) while I labored.

(He was the absolute only thing that kept me enduring.)  

8. Each Christmas, he nourishes my collection of coats.

9. Like me, he finds comfort in the repeated.

10. He's seen the worst of me and loves me still.

{My First Valentine}

Yesterday, Morgan and I were thumbing through Valentine mementos down the greeting card isle at the dollar store, when I overheard the sweetest conversation.

-

The American Greetings gal was restocking sections of pink and red glittered cards and casually made a comment to an older gentlemen who was also thumbing through them, just like us.

-

The lady commented how big of a job it is, trying to pick out the perfect Valentine's gift.

-

He quietly nodded, smiled, then proceeded to tell her that he had three daughters and his wife.

-

She expressed slight amusement, then continued replenishing envelopes. Still browsing through cards, he thought for a moment, then continued to say, "Yes, and they are so worth it."

-

Is it silly of me to say that I thought about that all day yesterday, and each time I did, a few tears surfaced?

-

It was so heartfelt, and the man reminded me of my own father.

-

In our home, Valentine's was never a grand production. I think that may be why I continue to love it so.

-

Growing up, it always stood for simplicity. Thoughtfulness. Sincerity. And those qualities manifested themselves year after year, through the gesture of giving a simple flower to each lady in our home, a sweet card for my mom that she would display on the kitchen counter all through February, and then, of course, something less feminine for my brother.

-

And as I grew, those qualities became what I saw in my father -- and eventually what my heart sought for in a darling of my own.

-

Lucky for me, I found such the one.

-

And lucky for me, the original one is still mine, too.

-

My first sweetheart, my first Valentine.

-

My Dad.

A heart full of joy.

Dear F e b r u a r y,

What a joyous day this is. January is behind us and we have made it out alive. (Barely.) Each and every year, I am so grateful for you - a slight glimmer of hope - a 'countdown' sort of month. Spring will come to us again soon. Thanks for being such a perfect reminder. I love you so.

-

Yours truly,

Hollie Rae

PS: Also, because of you, I get to look forward to:

cut-out hearts.

homemade valentines.

chocolate cake.

red lipstick.

red feathered wreaths.

extra kisses.

flowers.

a tanning package.

and an excuse for being extra sappy

and sentimental.

oh february, you are so lovely to me.

*picture via countryliving