This last weekend was spent in town.

Saturday, after I got off work, we went to Roswell's third annual Fiddle & Griddle event. Part of Main Street was blocked off for the event, which was happening in the middle of the street. It was pretty cool to get a taste of the town and see some of the locals come together. They had prize money (totaling $20,000) for the best fiddle players and grillers. I felt as though we had stepped back in time as we were able to swing dance around Main Street and the neighboring court house grounds.

It has been a hot couple weeks.

It gets hot here, but the weather is prone to dramatic shifts. On our way to our car, before driving to the event, our neighbors warned us of a tornado warning, informing us that it looked large on the radar. How reassuring. This is not the first warning since we have been here. We have had several. They rarely seem to hit the town itself however, because of Roswell being it's own little valley; but rather they skirt on the outside. This one, for example, was 15-20 miles away. We have regular thunder and lightning storms, however. Unlike the California storms we are used to, this is very in-your-face continuous flashing and booming. It is a bit intimidating, but neat to witness.

Vinegaroon. They have them here. Smell like vinegar. Luckily haven't experienced yet.

Spencer says I am going to give him a heart attack. There have been multiple occasions similar to the following: The other night, we walked over to the laundry room on premises, opened the door and switched on the light. I swear I saw what looked like a cockroach scurry under one of the driers. I screamed. Spencer said his heart stopped, imagining that someone was pointing a gun at us. On another occasion we were going to bed, when I heard nearby papers rustle. I look over to see a creepy crawly. I screamed. They say everything is bigger in Texas...well this is close enough. Bugs here are huge! He shot out of bed, eyes wide. Let us just say that he does not very much appreciate my screaming at what he calls "non-emergencies." I, however, take these occasions very seriously. A heart attack this young, he told me, is not the way he wants to die. He proceeded to teach me what I was to do with him, in the event of him passing out. He taught me to roll him on to his side in what he said was the "recovery position" as to insure that his tongue would not fall back in this throat and choke him. I think he is the dramatic one.


Sunday we allowed ourselves a late start. Waking up to an "apple-pie" breakfast was a treat. It cooked overnight in the crock pot and consisted mainly of apples and steel cut oats. We spent a couple hours on the phone with our families, catching up. At the park, we played tennis for about an hour and half. Our skill levels are close to equal, but not as high as one might think. Afterwards, we got some extra cardio in, by jogging. We are happy to report that was about as eventful as our weekend got.

Mending Spencer's work uniforms

Oh, and have I mentioned that I love being Spencer's wife? He makes it so enjoyable to cook and do things for him. He volunteers to do dishes after I cook and acts grateful each time. With the cooking, cleaning, ironing, and sewing... I think I am finally uncovering my inner "homeliness".

Practicing violin

4:30AM...when he has to wake up for work

Chicken and gravy over rice