Happy Anniversary to Me (and Evan)!

Look, Mom, we're still married one year later!

A little anniversary note I typed to myself on the new (old) typewriter Evan gave me. 

The traditional one-year anniversary gift is paper, and you'll note that he gave me a pack of paper, too. You'll also note that people in 1926 were quite serious, as there is no exclamation point on this old girl. This morning I briefly considered switching over my blog entirely to typewriter, but it's loud, difficult, and I'm afraid I couldn't convey the generally high excitement level in my life without my favorite punctuation mark.

It's an Underwood, just like my boy Frank uses in House of Cards. 

Just call me Frank.

In this glorious first year of marriage, Evan and I have both learned many things. He learned not to dry my sweaters, and what a peony plant looks like. I learned not to worry about what the annual $60 charge to XBOX Live is for, and that it's not polite to hit snooze more than two times in a morning (the fact that I learned this does not necessarily mean that I've been able to stop myself from such rude behavior).

I've come to grips with the fact that I may never break Evan of the habit of leaving half-drunk cans of Coke perched precariously in the refrigerator, though I've made it clear that I will not be cleaning up the mess if one of them spills.

Evan has come to understand that my drawers simply are harder to close than his are, so they may just have to be left open a little bit from time to time.

We've both learned that cake one year later is not quite as wonderful as it was when it was first baked … but it's still pretty delicious.

#tbt: Journal Entries from the Vault

Greetings, friends! Thanks for taking a quick break from crocheting Granny Squares to pay a little visit to the tudor house this lovely evening. Today, I'd like for all of us to throw ourselves back to 1992, when time moved a little slower, when people were a little nicer, when things were a little simpler, and when my mom still had control over me and tried to force me to keep a diary. 

"You'll look back on this one day and be so glad you did it, Allie," she said. "Blah blah blah." At least, that's how I remember it. You know my mom, so I'm sure you can imagine what she looked like while lecturing me.

To inspire the Anne Frank within me, she bought me The American Girls Diary: A Journal for Writing Your Secrets - An American Girls' Tradition. I believe I've mentioned that I was big into American Girl dolls at the time. I was pumped.

And from January 1, 1992 through May 18 of the same year, I kept that diary. Pretty much. What normally happened was that my mom hassled me every few days about the diary until a couple of weeks built up with no journal entries. Then she'd make me sit down in the kitchen with our family calendar and try to retrace what I'd been doing lately.

Which resulted in a number of posts like this:

February 21, 1992

But when I wasn't grumping about having to write in my diary, I had a pretty exciting life. And Mom, you were right - I am tickled pink to find this relic from my past. It's fun to see what I was up to as an 8-year-old, plus it's taught me so much about myself.

First, that I really stuck to things. In addition to being extremely devoted to keeping up with my diary, I also was really devoted to gymnastics and accomplishing my dream of doing a cartwheel in a mere 8 days:

And I was quite political:

 

January 20, 1992

Inauguration Day 1992

I was also hilarious. Such a jokester. (But still the super fan that I am today for my CATS).

Not only did I take an interest in current events, I took an interest in -- and enjoyed critiquing -- important literature.

February 8, 1992

I also had great decent self-esteem.

But life wasn't all afternoons at the theatre and evenings in front of the nightly news. Disaster struck sometimes.

 And sometimes, nothing happened at all:

HOW TOesday on Wendesday: Granny Time

You must have thought I died, because I missed my HOW TOesday post yesterday for the first time in weeks. Have no fear, I am alive. Alive with excitement over this lesson I am about to give you on how to make granny squares.

What is a granny square, you ask? Well, it looks a little something like this:

 

 

A thing of beauty, no? Well, sadly, I do not actually know how to make them ... yet. But I will in 100 days, because I am starting my friend Anna's 100 Days of Granny challenge.  She is a professional crochet instructor (in addition to her other full-time jobs of lawyering and crafting), so you'll definitely learn a thing or two.  If you want to follow along in the challenge, just go right here: http://100daysofgranny.blogspot.com/.

 

This challenge should last you through the end of the summer, when you will obviously get cold and need a nice warm blanket made of granny squares to get you through the winter.  So join. It's free and will make you smarter, funnier, and altogether better to be around.

Plus, you can crochet while you watch the Bachelorette (WHICH PREMIERES NEXT WEEK!)

And I leave you with this adorable photo of Anna's real life granny:

 all photos stolen without permission from Anna's facebook page.

To my Momma, on Mother's Day

My belly is full and the kitchen is cleaned up after my brother and Evan and I hosted what will probably go down in history as the best Mother's Day brunch of all time. I have found myself sitting on the patio looking through iPhoto just to remind myself how beautiful as I am, as I usually do on Sunday afternoons (just kidding) (or am I?). 

However, in my quest for beautiful photos of myself, I accidentally came across this photo from a few years ago -- 

-- and was reminded that I am incredibly awkward. (But great at fishing and zipping jackets all the way up, huh? Check out my enormous catch! Never mind that our fishing guide had to get it off the hook for me because it was gross.) However, in the true spirit of Mother's Day, I decided that this is entirely my mother's fault.

We have a little family tradition where we bring framed awkward photos of my mom to our family Christmas gift exchange. (When I type it out, it seems strange… do any of your families do this, dear readers?) These photos always are the hot ticket item in our White Elephant exchange -- for good reason. My mom is the queen of the awkward photo. In honor of Mother's Day, I've decided to share with you the Top 20 (sorry, I just couldn't stop at 10. There were too many.) awkward photos of my wonderful mother. In no particular order …

It all started at a young age. I have no idea who the tiny woman or tiny poodle in this photo are, but check out my mom's stance, knee socks, and romper. She's wondering, "I wonder if I step off the porch, will we be the same height?" 

These two dresses were worn to actual high school dances by my mother, an actual high school student, and sewn by my grandmother. I am told they were very stylish at this point in time. In both of the above photos, my mom is thinking, "I am a babe." And she was right. 

We were on vacation having bloody marys by the ocean, and my mom was cold. She is thinking, "I wish I had driven my car so I could use the towels I use as floor mats as a blanket."

 

"Pleeeease, can I spell 'cotton' with an I?"

"Someone blow on that wind chime to accompany me as I sing you this song whilst holding this pink flower. Good thing I did my vocal exercises this morning."

"WHY did I get a spray tan? How long will it take my hands to go from orange back to skin-colored?"

"Love that tequila burn."

"The best Christmas gift I've ever gotten. Can't wait to get some reps in the backyard tonight."

"Is this out of style? Found it in my closet."

"Let's measure this house and buy some furniture!" (Thanks for helping me get my house in order, Mom!)

"Shoot. Did I forget one of my pieces of Christmas flare?"

"This electric slide is not as hard as I thought it was going to be. Is it bad form to be the BEST DANCER AT THE WEDDING?"

"These are my two best friends! I like to pick short friends so that I can dominate them!"

(No, seriously. That's a direct quote from my mom at her 30th anniversary party.)

"I'm too fast for your camera."

"I LOVE RIDING 4-WHEELERS! This helmet brings out the blue in my eyes!"

"Bet you didn't see me behind you. My safari hat helps me blend in."

"Daggone. No reception up here. Time to go home."

"God, I love to dance." 

"This pose looked so much less awkward on Pinterest…"

And that'll do it! In addition to being the most awkward, my mom is also the most wonderful mom out there. Happy Mother's Day!

Five on Friday

Five on Friday couldn't have come at a better time for me. I looked through the photos on my phone to remind myself what I've been up to lately, and was quite disappointed to realize that I haven't done much. The most interesting photos were a few that I took through the front windshield while driving all over tarnation last week for work, but there wasn't a whole lot more to say about them. Somehow I managed to put together five separate thoughts.

If you're new to the tudor house, please come back again. I promise more interesting posts next week!

ONE

Six days later is an excellent time to write your post-Derby recap, right?

We went to Keeneland to watch the simulcast -- or should I say, we went to the Keerby this year. The number one perk is that they let you bring your own food and drinks and tailgate in the parking lot. The number one drawback is that you can't look the horses in the eye and gently encourage them to run fast by showing them a bottle of glue. Let's say that is why I did so poorly at the betting windows.

Without further ado, I present to you these photos:

When you ask Anna to take a picture of you, you may be lucky enough to get a few selfless first.

 I couldn't find a black hat that was both outrageously stylish and not outrageously expensive when I went shopping on Derby Eve. Thus, my headband. Evan, however, was quite pleased with the hat that he found in our basement

.

Traditional Derby attire includes big hats, big jewels and tiny mustaches.

We placed all of these bets on the Derby. Guess how much money we took home?

TWO

Speaking of the Derby, check out these delicious treats I brought:

Mac N Cheese Muffins
(adapted from allrecipes.com)

Serves 24

4 cups uncooked macaroni
2 tbsp butter
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups milk
2 cups shredded cheddar
2 cups shredded mozzarella
2 cups shredded parmesan
4 tsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup breadcrumbs (the recipe calls for store-bought, but if you're like me and threw away all of your breadcrumbs in a fit of pantry-cleaning-out rage, make them yourself with this recipe I found on Pinterest.)

Preheat oven to 350.

Mix breadcrumbs, olive oil and salt; set aside. Reserve 1 cup of cheddar cheese.

Cook pasta (salting the water generously first), drain, and return to pan. Mix in butter and eggs until coating the pasta. Stir in milk and cheese.

Have faith. They will turn out delicious and beautiful.

Spoon into greased muffin tins and top with extra cheddar cheese and breadcrumbs. Bake for 30 minutes.

Impress everyone who eats them; thank me profusely for sharing with you this delicious treat!

THREE

If you follow me on Instagram (@allielynn27), you've already had the pleasure of seeing this. If not, please behold:

Nothing like a butt in your ice cream to make your little bro's birthday a success!

FOUR 

I'm old.

My 30th birthday is not till August, but I realized that I'm already officially old yesterday when I looked at the forecast for the next few days (all rain) and got excited -- because rain means I won't have to water my sod. 

Depressing, I know. Please just forget I ever made this confession.

FIVE

Can someone please explain to me how to make a romper look good? I desperately want one, but when I try them on … this happens.

AND

Thank the Lord, I've finally found the rest of my childhood diaries.

Coming soon: Excerpts, excerpts and more excerpts. Get pumped up.

HOW TOesday: Have a Blissful Marriage for Many Years

Because we're coming up on our one-year anniversary in a couple of weeks, it's clear that Evan and I have really figured out the secret to a strong marriage. And because you've been such good, loyal readers lately, I've decided to start sharing these secrets with you so that you, too, can live a perfect, happy life.

Step One: Help each other, even with chores that aren't obviously yours.

In other words, wives don't have to do all the wife chores and husbands don't have to do all the husband chores. For example, just this past weekend our dear Evanshine did several loads of laundry because he's highly evolved and I did some yard work because I am too. Now, let's not get crazy and imagine me mowing the lawn or sawing up fallen tree trucks (for the record, neither one of us does that), but I did just plant an entire vegetable garden (or three tomato plants and four tiny okras) and all of the flower pots on our front AND back porches. Now that I type that out, I'm not so sure that planting flowers is a "husband chore," but you get the drift. I was working the land and that's a man thing.

Step Two: Don't kill each other when you screw up your nontraditional chores.

As I was laying around and watching Grey's Anatomy being helpful around the house this Sunday afternoon, Evan appeared in front of me.

"Allie, over by the driveway was looking really bad. I pulled a bunch of weeds over there. Go check it out."

Poor Evan is just emerging from a two-week-long stiff-neck situation, so being able to pull weeds was a big deal. I walked around to the flowerbed he was talking about, fully prepared to be amazed by his yard work prowess. There were quite a few weeds and an empty spot beside the wire support that I use to hold up my peonies every year.

"Where are my peonies?"

"Uhh... Those weeds?"

"Not weeds. Peonies."

"No, those were weeds. They're in the trash."

And there they were, wilting away on top of an empty case of Diet Mountain Dew, may they rest in peace.

Instead of murdering Evan, like I was fully entitled to do, I let him off the hook with just a promise to find me a new peony plant for the side of the house. And that is why we are going to live happily ever after.