family fun at Fenway

In the middle of our big move, Ren and Emily headed to New England for a weekend on the Cape. While we would have loved to spend a relaxing weekend with family, our move meant we had to settle for a Friday night Sox game (if you can call baseball at Fenway settling).

It was a beautiful night, and Grandma Judy, a lifetime die-hard Royals fan, got Alex Gordon's autograph and a wave from Ned Yost so we were all in a great mood.

Shortly after the game started, we discovered we also had the pleasure of sitting in front of two incredibly entertaining British gentlemen (seen standing in our classic family ballpark photo), who were absolutely delighted to be partaking in America's pastime. In the middle of the eighth, when "Sweet Caroline" began blasting through the sound system, one of them exclaimed, "Now that's what I traveled 4,000 miles and two plane rides for."



They also turned to us with a pressing question about a concession stand item:

British Gentleman 1: What do you Americans call that?

Us: Fried dough.

British Gentleman 1: God bless America.

British Gentleman 2: Indeed.

I love Fenway. Ren and Emily, come back soon!

Instagram: "then my phone went and made it art"

Friends showed us a parody music video about Instagram to the tune of "Photograph" by Nickelback (warning: language). The song is essentially a list of ubiquitous Instagram photo subjects. Ian and I are pretty avid Instagram users, and when I heard the song start out with eggs Benedict (one of my earliest Instagrams at Felix in NYC, if you're wondering), I just had to see how our feeds matched up. Because it's always fun to laugh at ourselves.

01. eggs Benedict (Anna)
02. lemon tart (Anna, actually pistachio cannoli)
03. painted fingernails (Ian. Just kidding. His toes don't look that pretty.)
04. mai tai + inadvertent cleavage
05. beach feet (Anna)
06. plane's wing in the air (Ian. One of a total nine plane photos between us.)
07. city lights in black and white (Ian)

08. glasses on cat (Ian, actually Facetime w/ Pfluff); runner up: Clover reading (Anna)
09. old door (Ian, actually old building that includes old doors)
10. abandoned store sign (Anna, not actually abandoned)
11. everyday items that in some way resemble inappropriate body parts
12. fortune cookie
13. coffee foam (Anna, one of three)
14. pretentious tome (Ian, one of two)
15. garden gnome (Anna, actually frog lawn ornament); runner up: squirrel (Anna)

16. fireworks (Anna)
17. eye close-up
18. self portrait in the bathroom
19. clouds (Ian, though arguably the focus is the building)
20. duck in the city (Anna, actually a turkey family)
21. setting sun (Ian)
22. peach pie (Anna, actually angel food cake with berry compote)
23. kids (Anna, not actually our kid)

If you're counting, we have 18 of 23, without taking any photos after watching the music video. We might lose points for stretching a few of the more specific photos, but I think we get bonus points for the specific ones we exactly matched, plus for chasing birds around in the city with an iPhone. I looked exactly like the guy in the video, minus the language.

So, fellow Instagram users, are you as guilty as we are?

See all our combined Instagrams, and follow us @scherling200 and @annakristina28.

that time we stole a homeless man's vodka

We kicked off November with visitors. One of my best friends from Kansas was taking a girls trip with her mom and a couple good family friends, and they decided to make Boston their destination. I was thrilled.

They arrived on a Friday afternoon, and Ian and I met them for dinner at Zaftigs—they made a trip rule that (aside from Starbucks) they couldn't eat anything they could get back home. Since Jewish food is hard to come by in Kansas and Wisconsin, it fit the bill. For the full experience, we started with the appetizer combo plate (cheese blintz + potato pancake + potato knish + noodle Kugel), before moving on to other carb-laden entrees. They loved it, and we had fun catching up with Megan and Sharon, and getting to know Brandi and Julie.

The next morning, Megan, Ian, and I enjoyed a late breakfast at Tatte and drove a ZipCar around to take in the fall foliage before meeting up with the rest of the crew, who had a much earlier start and already knocked out a good portion of their must-see list. We enjoyed a seafood brunch at the Chart House (in John Hancock's old counting house) while Sharon, Brandi, and Julie regaled us with their stories of the morning, including a butcher at Haymarket taking them for a tour of his fridge in the back.

We walked off lunch with a stroll to the Seaport District to catch the Harpoon Brewery tour, but they sold the last two tickets to the two people in front of us in line. Thankfully though, our trip was not in vain. We headed up to the retail store to look around, and Ian, Sharon, and Brandi (the beer connoisseurs of the group) even managed to snag a few free samples.

Ian headed to band practice, and we headed back to Sharon, Brandi, and Julie's hotel near the Common to drop off the morning's purchases. Just as we walked through the front doors, a scruffy middle-aged man fell down the last four steps of the lobby stairs, taking a fake plant down with him. Julie, a nurse, flew into action while we asked hotel staff to call 911. While calming him down and keeping him still, Julie discovered he was completely intoxicated. This complicated matters, as we couldn't be sure his intermittent consciousness was due to a possible brain injury or just the alcohol.

As soon as the fire department arrived and we answered their questions, we headed up to the room at last, where we laughed in disbelief about what had just transpired. We wondered if the paramedics took the man's belongings with him in the ambulance. We suspected he was homeless; what if the contents of those two small plastic bags were the only things he owned?

Soon, we were ready to head back out to the North End. As we looked around the room, Megan noticed two crumpled plastic bags tucked underneath the night stand. Brandi had grabbed them assuming they were Julie's. They were not.

We debated on how we could reunite them to their owner, but decided we should find out first if they were worth returning. We cautiously opened the bags: two open but relatively full bottles of Viaka. As Julie poured the bottles down the bathroom sink, we laughed that we probably did the man a favor, getting rid of incriminating evidence.

We also realized that it created the perfect introduction to the story of our afternoon: the time we stole a homeless man's vodka. We reviewed the story details on our extremely well-earned trip to Mike's for cannoli, which we consumed in front of the Paul Revere statue before wandering through more of the North End.

The next day after [REUNION] and brunch, we knocked out the remaining sights on their list: the Make Way for Ducklings statue and Harvard, before a final dinner together at Artu.

Megan & Company, thanks so much for making us your destination. It was so good to see/meet you. Come back soon!

Murphy's Law applied to two-day shipping

The Friday before our big trip to Colorado and Kansas for graduations, a red permanent marker exploded on Ian at work, splattering his favorite pair of jeans. Frustrating, but manageable. My mom had removed a similar stain from one of his dress shirts over the holidays, using time, muscle, and liquid glycerin. All I needed was glycerin. I tried three stores. All three only had it in a solid suppository form (funny but unhelpful). I decided to order some online.

I received an email confirming our order was scheduled for delivery Monday, giving me enough time to remove the stain, then wash the pants so he could pack them before our departure Wednesday evening. No problem.

Monday, the international shipping company* used for said products decided to not leave the delivery at our apartment (because apparently the driver thought a box labeled SOAP.com would be a target for the roving bands of thieves common in our neighborhood). I got an email notification that because we weren't home, they would attempt redelivery the following day. Our previous order a month or so back was left on our doorstep with no concerns.

I checked the shipping company's web site and managed to schedule a same-day pickup to not throw off my clean-then-pack plan. This would be after hours at a different location. Our window was 7:30-8:30pm, confirmed by a phone call from someone at the location.

With trip preparations underway, dinner to make, and Ian needing to stay later at work, I headed home while he planned to pick up the package in the confirmed time window.

When I arrived at home, it appeared the driver hadn't even left a door tag (found it the next day in the shrubbery). Which wasn't a problem, since Ian was picking it up in an hour anyway. I checked the mail, then popped in a replacement Blu-ray disc of District 9 we received from Sony Home Entertainment, because our previous copy wouldn't play. The new one didn't work either. With an already elevated frustration level thanks to the earlier shipping issue, I decided I would fix this problem. I wanted to at least accomplish something while I waited.

A quick online search showed our Blu-ray player has an issue with two movies: Avatar and District 9, but the manufacturer provides a firmware update to solve the problem. I just had to save the files onto a freshly formatted SD memory card, pop it in, select the right menu option, and presto, movie working.

I stalled out at presto with an error message. After a little troubleshooting with the owner's manual, I called the support number in the online instructions. I followed the menu options all the way to Blu-ray support and the automated system hung up on me. Twice. Irritated, I pushed the menu option for TV support. I got through to a person, but the call dropped a minute in. I dialed yet again, not even waiting for the automated voice to explain menu options: I had the numbers memorized. After confirming with the new tech that yes, they were aware of the phone system issue, and yes, he could assist me, I described my problem. Apparently the player doesn't get along with Apple formatted SD cards, so he asked me to format and save the file on a PC before they actually mailed me something that would fix it. This meant waiting until work the next day. Of course.

A few minutes later, Ian called. He was having trouble locating the address the woman gave me over the phone. After some searching however, he found an unmarked address people were leaving with packages. I provided the tracking number, because the staff kept insisting we needed to call in for a late pickup. He assured her that I did. She finally tracked down our package, which was located in the van of the only driver still out in Boston, who had 15 more packages to deliver but was only blocks away from our apartment. They told Ian the driver couldn't go back to our apartment even though I was now home, but if Ian wanted to, he could attempt to catch the driver along his route (what?!), or wait 20 minutes (translation: another hour) while paying another ZipCar hour, until the driver returned. He negotiated a third option: rerouting the package to our office for Tuesday delivery, with the $5 address change fee waived.

The next morning. I checked the tracking page online, just to make sure they got the address right. To my surprise there were four new entries between 5:30 and 6 a.m. "The package was damaged in transit. Will notify the sender with details. / The package was damaged in transit. Will notify the sender with the details. All merchandise is being returned. Will notify the sender with details of the damage. / Damage reported. Damage claim under investigation. / Service disruption occurred. Returned to shipper."

I called SOAP.com, who generously gave us a $15 credit on our order and immediately resent the order (to the office). It arrived Wednesday morning.

This made a good story for our families while we were visiting, but when we got back to Boston, we realized it wasn't over quite yet. Somehow, when SOAP.com's system logged the damaged return, it missed the replacement package they already processed, and sent the replacement order to our apartment again. I called them to report the error. I was advised to just ignore the notices, and after the third attempt, it would get returned to sender. I could do that. And I did. But on the third attempt, the driver left the box at our building. (Really?) One more call to SOAP.com to arrange a pickup on Monday, and we're (hopefully) done.

What are the odds?

*I'm lodging a complaint with the unnamed shipping company, (which is not USPS as you might infer based on the image above—I just couldn't bring myself to post that much text without a photo), and in the future, will NEVER have them deliver to our home address, but don't feel right bashing them online. However, the story was just too crazy not to share.

**I was able to fix the Blu-ray player Tuesday night after creating the SD card update at work, and the spots are almost gone on Ian's pants. Just a little more effort, and they'll have disappeared.

our wicked good Christmas slippers

Three months in, and our L.L. Bean slippers are still probably the best thing that has ever happened to our feet.

We got them for each other for Christmas, unplanned. We'd talked about them over the summer, but who buys fuzzy slippers in July? By fall, I was careful to not mention footwear around Ian, lest he guess that I was planning to surprise him.

Unbeknownst to me, Ian already had the very same idea, and in fact ordered matching his & hers slippers. A pair for me, and the exact pair that I ordered for him. He wrapped both boxes and tucked them under the tree.

I opened my box and immediately slid my feet into the shearling lined cocoons. But I had a sinking feeling. The two boxes Ian wrapped had come in the same package, and the size and shape of the second box was exactly the same as the box I had wrapped and placed under the tree for Ian weeks earlier.

He opened the one from me first, and I watched his face as he realized what I already guessed. He was the proud owner of not one, but two pairs of L.L. Bean's wicked good moccasins.

We had a good laugh, returned the extra pair (he kept the ones from me), and snuggled into our matching slippers. Our feet have never been happier. And I'm thankful I have such a thoughtful husband.

Siri is helpful.

Maybe a little too helpful.

"It's just a flesh wound."

We've mentioned before how we're working through the Dave Ramsey plan. We're on step 3 of 7: debt is gone and we're filling out our $1,000 emergency fund to 3-6 months worth of expenses.

The plan also includes other important financial tasks, so we're in the process of getting 20-year term life insurance. Which involves a basic medical exam: medical history, immediate family medical history, blood pressure, height/weight, and blood and urine samples.

Ian schedules our appointment for 6:30 Friday morning, so we won't have to fast all day. The alarm goes off at 5:40. Do you know how hard it is to shower, standing under running water, while you're trying to wait to provide samples? The medical assistant is running a little late, so I play Angry Birds to distract myself while Ian is a grownup and reads the news (on our new Mac!).

Natasha arrives a little before 7 and I make a beeline to the bathroom with the little cup and vials while Ian gets started with his paperwork. Forty minutes later we're almost done. I'm signing papers at the counter while Ian sits down for his blood sample. And then it's my turn. I should mention here that I get a little anxious about this. I can feel the needle the whole time and it's a little unnerving. So I steel myself and sit down. Natasha makes small talk to keep me calm, and Ian sits on the kitchen counter and makes faces to distract me. I'm doing great.

And then it happens. Or rather doesn't. No blood. She digs, but only a little. "I'm so sorry. The needle might be dull. I'll try again with a new one." Professional, friendly, caring. Ian breaks eye contact to check out what's happening on my arm.

The back of my neck goes cold. "I'll just sit back and breathe a little."

The next thing I know Ian's concerned face is hovering over me and Natasha is fanning me with our medical papers as I'm lying on our (not-cleaned-in-two-weeks) kitchen floor. We don't have juice, so Ian starts finger-feeding me honey after he grabs a pillow from the living room.

"It's a good thing you're light!" Natasha consoles me with a story about a larger man who also passed out on her, while his very pregnant wife watched helplessly from their sofa. Ian feeds me chopped up banana bits.

After a few minutes resting on the floor, Natasha asks if I want to try again or do it another time. But I want to get this knocked off our list. "Do I have to get up?" I don't. One poke and it's over. She packages our samples (we should hear back in a couple weeks), tells us to call her if I have any problems, and heads out.

I hope they don't need to run any blood tests at my annual exam in a couple weeks.

Friday Night Photobooth

Friday night, Ryan and Tyra threw together a community group + friends night full of tacos, photobooth, and fun.

Maybe a little too much fun...

not from the neighborhood

A few weeks ago, Ian peered out the bedroom window while on the phone with his dad. "ANNA! There's a turkey!" It took me a moment to realize he mean a live one.

I threw on my rainboots and decided to photograph the event paparazzi style, following the turkey to a house down the street.




She wanted to meet the neighbors...



...but they didn't answer the door.



Then she confronted the paparrazzi.



And like any good starlet, ran away.



Families of wild turkeys live along the Emerald Necklace, but they don't often venture as far as our street. Our unusual visitor brightened an otherwise dreary weekend.

someone new on the Charles River

We welcome a new neighbor at the office, although I think he picked the wrong season to move to the Charles. I wonder if his family misses him?

Anna = office supply item, Ian = guest speaker

I'd been researching couples costumes for Halloween this year. Then the department head invited Ian to go back to K-State on Halloween weekend to speak to students about internship opportunities. It was a huge honor, so of course he said yes. (Plus you really can't turn down a free trip.)

Thus began my quest for an amazing Halloween costume for Dan and Kristin's Costume Brew ha ha.

I settled on Post-It note. Creative, simple, inexpensive, and most importantly, not too flashy while riding the T (as Ian wouldn't be there to fend off decked out drunk guys). Original idea credit goes to a random girl in an English class my junior year.

Saturday evening, I showed up at Dan and Kristin's looking like this.

We had a memorable evening of sweets, Catchphrase, and Pictionary. I thoroughly embarassed myself in Pictionary — so much so I'm unwilling to share the details. And to add insult to injury, the guys routed the ladies in both games. Just wait until Valentines, when we exact our revenge.

In the meantime, Ian had a great trip. Over 70 people showed up for his presentation on great Boston spaces, and he enjoyed talking to students and faculty about preparing for internships, graphics (especially sketching), and sitting in on classes as a guest critic. K-State, the department, and studio are all like family and he loved spending time with everyone. Add that to dinner and football with Nathan and Caleb as well as Deb and Jim, and you get one happy husband. Throw in some dust jacket protective covers from the Dusty Bookshelf and a trip to the jewelry store for a wedding ring cleaning, and you get a happy wife, too.

And by now, you might be curious about those couples costumes I found. Bazinga! You'll just have to wait until next year.

Ian is an ESPN.com sports (fan) star

Football season is here. In fact, we were at a UNC vs. LSU watch party this weekend with some friends. Which reminded me, back in May one of Ian's lifelong dreams came true and I failed to blog about it. I'm correcting that problem now.

His dream? Make it on ESPN.

screenshot of ESPN.com

The ESPN.com article gave an early look at the upcoming bowl season and for the graphic, they selected a few photos of fans at football games. Which was on the front page of the ESPN.com college football section. Ian isn't too hard to miss. We received lots of e-mails, texts, and Facebook messages letting us know Ian's now a sports (fan) star, in all his painted-chest glory.

screenshot of ESPN.com

And for the record, he is just as ready to support the Wildcats this year. Go State!

we shop at Trader Joe's part 3, i.e. Ian won... again.

I don't think Ian can continue arguing he isn't lucky. He won the Trader Joe's Bring Your Own Bag raffle for a second time. No complaints from me though — who doesn't love free groceries!

we shop at Trader Joe's part 2

When you bring your own bag to Trader Joe's, you are eligible to enter the b.y.o.b. raffle that happens every so often.

The other day, Ian got a call from Trader Joe's. He won. His ridiculous good luck is why I can't competitively play board games with him. But it makes me want to send him grocery shopping with our bags more often.

At work, several people noted they've been entering for years and have never won. Needless to say, he got more dirty looks than congratulations, but we're happy to share the prize package with all of you!

• reusable canvas bag
• box of Joe's O's
• Joe coffee — medium roast
• jar of peach halves
• snack packs of dry-roasted unsalted almonds
• red pepper spread with eggplant and garlic
• crunchy & salted valencia peanut butter with roasted flaxseeds
• deli-style spicy brown mustard
• dried sweetened hibiscus flowers (similar to fruit roll-ups in taste and texture)

The night Ian entered the eventual winning ticket was stressful: getting home late, everything going wrong. He rode his bike to pick up last minute dinner ingredients while carrying two bags of bottles to recycle. Winning made that day a little better in retrospect. So thanks, Trader Joe's!

what we did for Christmas break, part 2.1

As Ian and I were cleaning up after dinner, he reminded me of something on our trip I had forgotten about in the mess that was O'Hare.

As we were boarding the plane in Kansas City (two hours late, don't forget), the very pleasant family beside us with two girls and a nap-deprived baby (who the mom kept apologizing for) found a ring on the floor. They asked around, but no one claimed it. The mom said it was too bad, since she thought it looked like a wedding ring. I asked to take a look, in case there were any identifying marks.

There were — elvish, to be precise. I piped up. "I'm kind of a Lord of the Rings nut, and I'm pretty sure this is a replica of the one ring."

A guy waiting in the aisle piped up that if someone just put it on, we'd know for sure if he or she disappeared.

The mom handed it off to the flight attendants, who announced that a passenger found a ring and if you lost it, describe it to the crew and you can have it back.

The mom looked at me and laughed, saying if I tried to claim it, she would know I was lying. I assured her I didn't want the responsibility. It's not like our flight was to Mordor with Dwight Shrute, after all.

It was a very welcome laugh after such a long wait in the airport!

caleb's big week

I wanted to take this time to update you on some big family news: Caleb finally got his braces off! Yesterday afternoon I went home for an eye doctor appointment, and it just so happened to be the same day as Caleb's big orthodontist visit. After I finished "eyeballing," I came home to Caleb's sparkling smile — I'm very thankful I was one of the first to see his new and improved shiny pearly whites!

And not only did he get his braces off this week, he also got pneumonia! How many people get their braces off AND have pneumonia at the same time? He was diagnosed earlier this week and is currently on antibiotic (the doctor said it was fine to still go to the ortho). To avoid getting other people sick, Caleb has a designated bathroom. Mom and Dad also informed me I should maintain a 3-6 foot radius to avoid the "droplets" which can transmit bacteria (it's not airborne). They, however, did not tell me this until I was already sitting right next to Caleb on the sofa. Maybe since I've already had pneumonia, I'm immune. Ian is crossing his fingers as he reads this, I'm sure.

Happy braces off, littlest biggest brother, and thanks for holding your breath to prevent germ transfer when we hugged goodbye!

if you like pranks...

In June, a couple smart and bored individuals decided to prank Ben and Storm while they were away from the office for a week at camp. I witnessed their reactions when they got back. Whoever it was that pranked them was really happy about the responses, and the whole office was impressed with the prank. I was not the brilliant individual who came up with this idea, but if you decide to do this, I do know it took a lot of foil, so go with the cheap stuff! And please note, they took the time to individually wrap markers, pencils, scissors, headphones, thumbtacks... which really put the whole thing over the top. Great job — you know who you are!

lessons learned from moving

1. It's common advice to say double the time you think you need. When it comes to packing, quadruple it.
2. Ask for help ahead of time with the heavy stuff. If you don't, your only shot is if you have Ian, Ben, Storm, and a church dolly.
3. Don't try to do a full day of heavy labor on 5 hours of sleep and 3 doughnuts.
4. No matter how bad your moving day is, a great husband and fireflies make you feel better.

Ian goes to the ER

Friday morning Ian left early — he's been helping a professor's family build a fire pit at their home. I was enjoying my morning — slept in a little, catching up on my blog reading... Ian called me at 11:30 a.m. I wondered why he was calling, since he would be coming home in 30 minutes or so.

"Hello?"
"Hey Anna, can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure." (I was thinking this might be making lunch, getting groceries...)
"Can you meet me in the E.R.?"
"What?"

He proceeded to tell me that he smashed his finger and it just needed stitched up. Since Ian had the car, I walked as fast as I could to the hospital from our apartment. I got there and they were expecting me. He was in room 10, which funnily enough was the same ER room Daniel occupied after we drove him to the hospital for slicing his fingers in studio at 2 a.m. during their first year.

When I arrived, Ian told me what happened. He's a little more clear on the details now than he was then, so here are his own words as he reflects back on the events of Friday:

Well, I was at K-State behind Justin Hall helping Rod, my boss (professor's husband), and his hired hand move some wood from a pecan tree that had fallen down. We were taking the wood to Rod's truck and trailer to haul it away, when Eli (the hired hand) and I were carrying a rather large piece of pecan stump. It was heavy. The heaviest piece we had carried so far.

As we were carrying it we had to make our way through a little passage between two overgrown shrubs and there was a log on the ground in the passage. I had nowhere to go but to step onto the log, and as I did, the log moved like a teeter-totter and I could feel myself losing my balance.

Knowing this and having things like this happen before, I know that the first thing to do is jump off before I really hurt myself and attempt to regain my balance on solid ground. Well, in this case, with the pecan stump in my hand, it wasn't such a good idea. As I jumped off the log, I tried to move my hands out from under the stump so it wouldn't smash my hands (demonstration with gestures). I got my left hand out in time, but my right hand wasn't so lucky. The stump came down on my right index and middle fingers. Mind you, I had gloves on. The pain was intense.

As I tried to regain my senses, I noticed my index finger felt very warm. I looked down and saw that the tip of the glove on my index finger looked a little funny. It was smashed. So I pulled the glove off, and was a bit startled to see that the tip of my index finger was flattened and the skin was, how should I say, hanging off. Ouch, I said.

So to make a long story short, I showed Rod what happened, he said, "Oh God" and told me to go to the ER. I got very dizzy and it was hard to hear. Eli drove me to the ER. Anna met me at the ER, and after an x-ray, two tablets of Percocet, two cups of water, four numbing shots in the index finger, and numerous winces and grimaces, the tip of my index finger was sewed back on with two stitches. The end.

I had hopes that he would become David After Dentist for real. However, the only obvious side effect of the Percocet was impatience.

"Anna, we need to go fast to get my medicine." (In reference to his antibiotic — we were on the way to Dillons.)
"Ian, I'm going 30 mph and I don't have a good excuse for speeding."
"Oh. Sorry."

Really, it's pretty amazing that it wasn't any worse. However, the timing could have been better — he has to play Jack Johnson on the guitar at a wedding in week. I'll let you know how that pans out for him and his monster finger (the stitches look like antennae).