Chris and Kelly sitting in a tree...

A few weekends ago we flew to Denver for Chris and Kelly's wedding. And not only was it a beautiful milestone in their relationship, the weekend was a reunion for the old Studio 200 gang (including their support systems, i.e. significant others). Spending five years of sleepless nights together in Seaton Hall while stressing out about plantings, renderings, and AutoCAD turns you into family, and it's always good to see family.

Rehearsal dinner was a lovely Italian-themed meal with a pasta bar (the white sauce was to die for) and melt-in-your-mouth beef. I miss great cuts of beef here in New England — it's just not the same. As they handed out presents to the wedding party, we indulged in mini cannoli and tiny cheesecake pops (so good I couldn't put my second one down for a photo).

But back to family.

Friday afternoon my mom and dad drove all the way to Denver, just to have breakfast with us Saturday morning. They're amazing. We had fun at Target and a quirky little breakfast place that didn't measure up to Early Edition.

Dane also drove up to see us and go to a CU football game with Ren. And I somehow failed to get a photo of them. This will be rectified at Christmas.

After brunch, we met up with everyone to go present shopping then get ready for the big event. This, of course, involved much discussion amongst the ladies, and included a few last-minute outfit decisions. But once we placed the bow atop the large stack of board games (brilliant group gift idea, if you need one), we were off to The Sanctuary. Proper noun. Stunning.

After a beautiful wedding, mouthwatering food (I'm still craving the mac and cheese appetizers), and a smashing party, we crashed. After all, Ian and I's internal clocks are two hours later than most of the guests.

The next morning we loaded up, enjoyed breakfast with Dane and Ren, then headed back to the airport, where we whiled away our time with Pass The Pigs.

Happy wedding, Chris and Kelly, and welcome to the married club.

For more photos on Flickr, click here.

Copley Square, then and now

The first time I ventured out alone in Boston, I went to the Boston Public Library to get a library card. I accidentally got on the green line going the wrong way, and so by the time I arrived, the library had just closed. I stood on the steps, bundled up in my new winter coat, and took a photo of Copley at night with the Christmas tree twinkling white and blue. I didn't know much about Boston and didn't know anyone aside from Ian and two friends from home, but in that moment I was so content in our new city.

Almost a year later, Boston has become home. The shift was imperceptible, but I knew it had happened when I went to the library after work. I sat in the window overlooking the courtyard as I talked to my parents on the phone.

By the time I left, it was dark. I paused on the steps and looked across Copley, arrested by the old library lanterns in contrast to the glittering Hancock Tower.

That past moment, uncertain but full of hope, suddenly was juxtaposed to the present, fulfilled. I am confident. I know how to get around. I can give directions to tourists and provide recommendations for things like chowder and cannoli. I have a job that I do very well. We have favorite restaurants. We know our neighbors. We love our church. We have friends we can count on. And I have a library card.

IKEA, Goodwill and French pastries

Last Saturday's to-do list?

• make the semi- quasi-quarterly IKEA run
• drop off piles of stuff at Goodwill
• sell old books to Booksmith
• assemble IKEA bookshelf and storage boxes
• enjoy a French date night

I'd been adding to our IKEA list all summer. It was time. We woke up early, hopped in a ZipCar and headed down to Stoughton.



I'm fascinated by IKEA's aura as a day trip destination. Drop off kids (if you have 'em) at the fun free daycare. Wander around in the endless pristine, organized showroom. Check out a This Old House kitchen seminar (by the way, I grew up watching that show on Saturday mornings). Share a romantic Swedish meatball lunch. Welcome to married life.

And not only does a good husband take his wife on IKEA dates, he also turns the car around and drives the wrong way through the parking lot so his wife can take photos of a sweet old truck for her photo a day project. (I love you, Ian!)




When you have a ZipCar on a Saturday, you really have to take advantage of it. We unloaded our purchases at home then reloaded the car with the Goodwill piles we'd accumulated and a basket of books to sell. A quick drive, and we had shed unneeded items discovered as we work through simplifying/curating the apartment. It felt good.

We then turned our attention back to our newly purchased storage solutions, which streamlined our living room. More about that in a later post.

That evening, Ian whisked me away to Paris for crepes before our movie, Kings of Pastry, at the Coolidge. It was a delicious evening, and the movie was fantastic. If you have the chance to see this, don't pass it up. The quote that sold Ian was "I never saw so many stong men sobbing at once." Who knew sugar could bring grown men to their knees?

All in all, a very successful errand-slash-date day. I love my husband. The end.

John + Erin fall into Boston

Two weekends ago (October is flying by) we had the pleasure of hosting our friends John and Erin. It was a quick trip but we made the most of a beautiful Saturday, which included a couple hours at the old farmhouse we house-sat back in August, and finished with Sweet cupcakes (their caramel apple is fall in a paper wrapper).

John and Erin — see you again soon!

Nantucket and the wild waves

After a momentous week of homemade dinners and improved vision, Micki took us to Nantucket to break in her new eyeball on the island.

And I really can't go on without saying thanks to the Boston Foundation for Sight. After three bouts of cancer which caused a herpes infection in one eye leading to two cornea transplants, they (and her surgeon) have taken Micki's eye from virtually blind to 20/25. Miracles happen every day with those doctors and their groundbreaking contact, and we got to hear all the stories. They are truly a blessing.

After Micki's final appointment on Friday, we drove a rental car down to Hyannis to catch the Nantucket Ferry. Before sailing out, we had dinner at The British Beer Company, where I experienced my first pasty. Not bad. When we get to Britain, I'll let you know how authentic it was. We were disappointed we missed Funktapus Thursdays — the chalk drawing of an octopus with a fro was enticing, but we still enjoyed some great live music.

A smooth hour-long ferry ride and Red Sox win over the Yankees later, we were walking along the cobblestone streets of Nantucket on our way to the Veranda House.

The Captain's Loft suite was lovely, and the little touches — Twizzlers with a welcome note, luxurious bamboo bath products, and tote ready for a beach day — made it memorable.

We dropped off our bags then headed out into the fog for a little exploration before bedtime. We found a beautiful and simple church, an eclectic bookstore, and a vibrant Latin kitchen.

The next morning, we went down to the veranda for potentially the best breakfast I've ever had. It started with tiny cornbread muffins and 5 spread choices (chive butter! raspberry butter!), moved on to a shot of peach smoothie and side of melon, and finished with mini banana crepes drizzled in raspberry sauce. Perfect flavor, perfect portions.

Refreshed, we strolled down to Brant Point and the second oldest lighthouse in America (after Boston Light).

The view from the top was spectacular, and the coast guard people were so nice.

We then headed back downtown and bumped into a farmers market as we did a little shopping. I think it's the first time I'd ever seen a spread of locally grown mushrooms.

After a quick lunch at a cute cafe, we hopped into a cab and headed to Cisco Beach, learning more about Nantucket along the way. Our driver was a "wash-ashore," which means she's been there 20 years and has a family, but she'll never be a native since she wasn't born there.

Cisco Beach was wild and remote — expensive yet unassuming beach cottages empty of their summer owners, stretches of sand only occupied by large seashells, icy waves breaking 100 yards from shore. I felt like Hattie and the Wild Waves. It was one of those moments I know I'll remember for the rest of my life.

Salt encrusted, we called a cab and headed back to pick up a few souvenirs and enjoy a little more time on the veranda before picking up our bags.

Nantucket was inspiring, and we're embracing the New England aesthetic. Our bags were a little heavier with sand and seashells carefully tucked away, which are now adding a touch of the island to our living room.

Thanks to Micki for giving us a break by being mom for two weeks, and for treating us to such an incredible experience!

For more photos, click here.