the countdown is back on...

on the ninth day of christmas, my whirlwind brought to me, a long christmas eve with no sleep...i was excited about the holidays this year. we usually don't give many presents...mostly because we already have everything we need, but also because we usually put our money toward a christmas vacation instead. the tradition is that we always have stockings, rarely have presents. but this year, we opted to stay home and give ourselves some much needed new items (computer, phone, dining room table). this meant that we also got to shop for extra goodies besides the stockings! i was at the store many, many times in the weeks before christmas getting items for school, so i picked up little things for marc here and there too. each night when i got home, i would lug in the present bags, wrap the latest goods, and stash them underneath the tree. i was having a ball. marc kept asking to open a few presents early. i emphatically denied these requests arguing that it would ruin the anticipation. finally, christmas eve rolled around. i was glowing at the thought of him opening my perfectly selected gifts in the morning. i scanned the heap under the tree and reviewed the list in my head. shiny green bag with a new coat, check. long, skinny box with golf equipment, check. square red box with slippers, check. small blue box with a handheld game, check. it was in the middle of the list that i suddenly realized something was missing. my proudest purchase: his new sports watch. i had bought him his last sports watch our very first christmas together. it had since been put through the ringer. when i came to the conclusion that it couldn't be simply fixed with a new battery and band, i went on the hunt for a brand new one. i spent 20 minutes agonizing over which one to buy. i finally made my selection and handed it to the white-haired little clerk. she rang it up at the jewelry counter, put it in a small bag, and tied tape around the top...gotta love walmart security measures. i went skipping through the store to grab some cups and marshmallows for my always wonderful, student cocoa treat. i browsed through the holiday items and checked out the electronics section. last stop, heater aisle for a new space heater (hey, it's cold here). my arms were getting full, so i remember asking another clerk if i could take a cart he was emptying. he obliged and i dumped everything in. i made a quick checkout, grabbed a subway sandwich at the exit, and headed to best buy and lowe's for more gifts. flash forward to christmas eve. somehow, between that day and this day, i have managed to lose the watch. and thus the search began. i checked my trunk. under the bed. in the closet. in a shoebox. under my car seats. in old plastic bags. in the christmas wrapping paper. in my dresser drawers. it had been such a small, light package that i began to worry i might have thrown it away. or had i hidden it from myself and forgotton?? ugh. i rechecked all of the places i had already looked and then my heart started to sink. i will be quite honest and tell you that i very well nearly did cry. it was my favorite present for him...the one i thought he would be the most excited about. how could i have been so careless?! by this time, it was nearing midnight. i climbed into bed and shut my sad little eyes. dumb mistake trying to go to sleep with something like that on your mind. i lay there for literally an hour and a half, retracing my steps. i had been to walmart at least four times the previous week. i couldn't seem to remember which trip i had gotten the watch. and which walmart? had i set the watch down? had i left it in the cart? FINALLY....after torturing my pitiful brain, i began to recall the details of the trip mentioned above. the only conclusion i came to was that i had put the watch in the bag with the cups and marshmallows and carried it into school without noticing. i knew exactly where the bag was sitting in my classroom. i could just imagine my precious little gift sitting there in the dark, waiting to be given. nothing i could do but wait myself. by then it was 1:30, but i was wide awake after the laborious task of filing through my nearly discarded memories. who remembers every step they took in a walmart store a week earlier? so...i did the only thing i could think of to make myself feel better. i climbed back out of bed, took marcus down to the tree, and we opened 1/3 of our presents. a week and a half later, he got to open one final gift...and, of course, it was his favorite...

on the tenth day of christmas, my whirlwind brought to me, a chance to make the house look pretty...marcus decided that he absolutely couldn't stand just sitting at home over the entire christmas break, so he called up a buddy in texas and headed down for a 3 day hunting jaunt. my reply...."if you get to go hunting, i get to paint." and so i did. he was gone for 3 full days and i probably spent 2 of those days staring at paint swatches, trying to imagine them in full scale. it's a lot harder to imagine than you would think. the actual painting part took a great deal of work too (more than i expected), but i really had fun doing it. i felt very accomplished having done it all on my own. in the end, the living room came out a little brighter than i had planned. but the dining room color is lovely. hm...i still have half a gallon of that color left. another hunting trip may be in order...

on the eleventh day of christmas, my whirlwind brought to me, the best food a girl could ever eat...st louis is known for italian food. there is even a special part of the city called "the hill" that is designated for the majority of the restaurants. and, believe me, there are tons. up until this point, we had tried over six such places and none were anything to write home (or a blog) about. actually, some were downright gross. one night, we were in the hill looking for a new place to dislike. parking was sparse. we drove around until we found a lot next to a restaurant called modesto. it sounded italian. we went inside, glanced at a menu, and realized it was spanish food. didn't sound like it would hit the spot. we walked a block to an italian place and chewed through another lackluster meal. when my birthday rolled around, i started looking online for some interesting places to eat that were not italian. i came across a spanish tapas place called modesto. hm. might just be worth a shot this time. it was the same night we had tickets to handel's messiah, and we hadn't left enough time for a full meal. no problem. we decided we would try one dish and if we liked it, we would be back after the show. we arrived to happy hour, where they sell things by single sample! we ordered two of several things on the mini menu. the minute i put the first bite of cheese fritter into my mouth, i knew we were coming back. marcus will tell you it was the spicy meatballs that did it for him. we gobbled up our appetizers and headed to the show. after the last clap of the standing ovation, all i could think about was getting back to try some of the heartier dishes and the stand-out dessert that had really caught my attention.....pudin de pan. let me just copy the description for you. "white and dark chocolate bread pudding with Licor 43 caramel sauce." we got to the door of the restaurant at 11:03. kitchen closes at 11. sigh...no birthday love for me....but the story does not end there! new year's eve seemed like the perfect time to reconnect with this hidden treasure. the only reservations left were at 10pm, but better late than never. and let me just say....every last drop of every last item was consumed. what was all the fuss about italian food? clearly they were marketing the wrong country in the hill. as the waiter came to clear our table, i thought marcus might be ready to go. but i couldn't leave without trying it. "i'd like to try your bread pudding," i told the waiter. "very good," was the reply. understatement of the century. it comes out boiling. no...not hot...literally boiling from the oven. the caramel sauce is still going minutes after they set it down. i think this has to be intentional. usually you just stuff dessert down your face. but this....this was meant to be eaten so slowly, that you are forced to wallow in the vanilla and chocolate and sweet cream pleasure for a very, very long time. i've never eaten anything so magnificent in all my life.

on the twelfth day of christmas, my whirlwind brought to me, my first trip through ol' kentucky...that's right. now that we live in a state that is not gargantuan we can actually visit other states over one weekend. our mission for this trip was to check out the kentucky bourbon trail. highlight of the trip had to be woodford reserve, which happens to be marc's drink of choice. the distillery definitely wins out over wild turkey, jim beam, and maker's mark which all seem to be more commercialized. woodford was small, charming, and felt more refined. we also had a lovely old gent giving us the tour who had lots of spirit and taught us a good share of interesting facts about how bourbon is made. the best part had to be our stop in the barrelhouse, where oak casks towered above our heads. the smell was sensational. it was here that we learned about the "angel's share" of bourbon....the portion that is lost through the barrels to evaporation, which the angels drink. you would smile even more if you heard that sweet old man telling about it. perhaps my angel from the symphony had gotten a bit more than her fair share :)

that's it....and thus begins a new year....