just biss

Back on December 31, Jeff and I started our gratitude journal.  The initial goal was to capture 5 things we are thankful for, everyday.  So, far, Jeff has a total of 0 entries, but honestly, he doesn't need a constant reminder about positivity.  I am the one that lives with anxiety and depression.  It turns out that 5 can be pretty darn tricky to come up with each day.  Most day look pretty similar:

Stay positive and hug your wieners.

1) cuddle time with the wieners

2) a delicious meal

3) my amazing husband.

Numbers 4&5 can vary or can be absent all together.

Not Pretty

But this week has provided a couple of opportunities for gratitude.

Pretty!

1) I am thankful that we have house insurance.  The snow/ice misery that has been Halifax has created a very pretty effect on the house.  Beautiful ice formations have created a sculpted roof line punctuated with gorgeous icicles and f#@king ice damming.

Pretty!



Not Pretty.

2) I am thankful that we have the means to enjoy a concert from time to time. And, in particular, I am thankful that we decided on Dan Mangan + Blacksmith, who absolutely rocked the Rebbecca Cohen on February 18th.  It was the first night of their tour and they were full of nerves, which translated into manic energy and an edge of your seat performance.  Strobe lights and perfect seats, dead centre and directly in front of the soundboard, holy shit.  Also, this was Dan's second time at the Cohen. The first was as part of Halifax Pop Explosion a couple of years ago, playing with the symphony.  While a great show, I felt that it was a bit tentative. I've seen him use his voice to full effect, and with the symphony, I felt he was holding back.  The Cohen is also a room specifically designed for full sound, and this time he filled it.  The band keeps getting tighter and the addition of a trumpet gave more depth to some already deep sounds. A magnificent show.

Fancy pictures by Jeff...no heads in the way courtesy of someone's friend in the row in front of us not showing up.

The Leather Anniversary (More mushy than S&M)

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever

-Tennyson

Three years ago today, Jeff and I had our last date before our wedding.  Our shared love of indie music was one of the things that drew us together (our first date was to see Olenka and the Autumn Lovers in a weird little venue that only had tea available to patrons).  This week in Halifax is the annual Pop Explosion Festival, and in 2011, we were happy to sneak out of the house for a couple of hours on our own to see Dan Mangan play.  Due to weather, he wasn't even sure if he and his band were going to make it from Newfoundland, where they had played the night before.  They rushed straight from the airport to the stage, and as such, didn't have the time to do a proper sound check.  The show was still very good, but near the end of the night, Dan finally unleashed his voice and used the venue to full effect. The rafters of St Matthew's Church grabbed his vocals and threw them heavenward.  The resonate sound was astonishing.  Afterwards, Jeff and I jumped in puddles and wandered by the waterfront, thick with fog and mist, and had a small reprieve from the stress of wedding planning.  No matter how small and casual your wedding, no matter how relaxed it all is - it is not, not one moment of it, relaxing.

On October 22, we stood in our very own backyard and stated in front of family and friends that the rest of our lives together didn't seem long enough for all the things we want to do.  As I was saying to my dear friend Elle last week, it's a pretty neat thing to have such an awesome memory embedded into your own backyard.  I stare at the spot under the apple tree daily.  And every few weeks we renew our commitment to each other, and all the things we want to do by reminding each other that we cannot wait to spend 60 more years together. 

Every time, 60.

Here's to 60 more years my love.

(I accept, and am grateful, that Jeff is more likely to quote Sir Lancelot the Brave than anything by Lord Tennyson.)