A parasailing adventure

Sitting on the beach one day on our honeymoon in Jamaica, I saw several boats zipping across the ocean, pulling colorful parachutes behind them in the air. That looks fun, I told Homère. Yeah, he said. It’s our honeymoon, I said. Yes, he said. We should do this now or we’ll never do it again, I said. OK, he said.

It wasn’t until we were on the boat waiting for our turn to go up that I remembered that Homère gets height-induced vertigo. A flood of words: Why didn’t you remind me? We don’t have to do this! I’m a terrible wife! But he insisted: No, you want to do this, so I want to do this. Nevertheless, as he sat looking warily at the parachute in the distance, I was so sure he was going to back out. I certainly would have, in his shoes. The whole process was sketchy enough. A shady man on the beach took our money; a wrinkled old woman in a little speed boat took us to the main boat and had us quickly sign forms saying we wouldn’t sue if we died horrible mangled deaths; the speed boat sped very, very fast. Then as we waited our turn to go up in the parachute and the woman who went up ahead of us came down looking like she was going to vomit, I was ready to give up on my dream of parasailing.

But to my surprise, Homère got up and strapped himself in.

And it was so much fun!


It felt like we were flying. I loved the views of the island and seeing the different strokes of color in the ocean, far below. The nice man on the boat took these pictures.


As for my strong, wonderful, poor vertigo-afflicted husband… well, he closed his eyes about 99 percent of the time. But he says he liked it, and that it felt like he was in a wind tunnel. (“I like windiness,” he says. “It’s one of my top three weather conditions.”)


So there you have it. I basically tortured my husband on our honeymoon. When we got back to the shore, he said: “Now you know I love you forever. Also, we’re not going kayaking.”



The ugliest pie in the world

When we first tied the knot about three months ago, I thought one of the benefits of marriage would be that my attempts at domesticity would now have a high and lofty purpose: To be the most amazing, best wife ever.

Well I have yet to accomplish that, and I realized pretty quickly it was very silly to think that I ever would. Also, it really doesn’t matter. I can burn dinner and descend into tears and be really grumpy and look like a slob, and Homère somehow still says he really likes me and thinks I’m the best wife ever. So now I still try to be domestic, but it’s mostly just for fun — which helps when you create the ugliest pie in the world. And when you have a husband who has otherwise threateningly superior domestic abilities…. Homère cooks and cleans at least as well as I do, and usually better.

Homère, on his first attempt to bake ANYTHING EVER, turned out this beautiful banana bread last night for our small group. It was delicious.

banana bread


Meanwhile, the pie that I was going to make for small group but didn’t have time to finish until later… turned out to be very ugly and lumpy. The very complicated crust recipe I tried just had a lot of issues on top. And don’t be fooled by this picture: It’s more disfigured in real life.

photo (24)


But it turned out that the ugly crust was flaky and delicious, and the filling was yummy. So Homère said: “At least it’s beautiful on the inside.” It’s not every day you make a pie with self esteem issues.

Anybody have a delicious but more reliably pretty pie crust recipe?

We got married!


We got married! And we are so, so happy. I love not having to say goodbye at night, waking up next to the man I love, cooking together, reading everything from Peter the Great to Paddington Bear together, looking up stupid puns online together, eating way too much kettle corn and ice cream together, growing closer as we learn what it means to cherish and treasure each other. We are huge fans of marriage.

And I’m back to blogging! Coming soon: behind-the-scenes wedding confessions, pictures of our apartment, adventures in cooking, travels to the far-off lands of Jamaica and New Jersey, etc. Probably interspersed with amusing things Homère says. (Why is it that once you get married you think your husband is the funniest person ever??) Sample: “If I had a cat, I’d be telling it: ‘Cat, you better find some birds and some rats. Because I don’t have any money for a cat budget.'”

You can see more of our wedding pictures here. Many, many thanks to our dear friend, TwentyTwenty Studios.