Having now navigated the unfamiliar waters of setting up and hosting a website of my very own, I am finally sitting down (in my pajamas and with a bowl of cheerios) to write my very first post.

Yesterday, the man and I celebrated three years together.  This, for me, is a small miracle.  Three years that went by in a flash ~ three years with very little drama.  Three years of hanging out everyday with my very best friend.  It felt good to celebrate.  I was trying very hard to get this post up yesterday ~ to commemorate our three years with starting a new venture.  And I wouldn’t be venturing down this road of ‘blog-dom’ were it not for him.  So for that, I owe him a big thank you!

John (the man) came home last week from five days away talking talking talking about camping and fishing, and getting back into nature.  He has been talking this way a lot recently, so I figured it was fairly inevitable that at some point, we would have to actually do the camping and the fishing.  But no, he assured me.  He’d spoken to his cousin, who was feeling this same itch to get back into country life.  I imagine I looked stunned (I certainly felt taken aback ~ he didn’t want to do these things with ME?)  Granted, I am a thoroughly suburban girl.  I don’t like bugs.  I DO like running water… etc, etc, you get the point.  I asked, slightly curious as to know his thoughts on the matter, “What am I supposed to do while you are camping and fishing all the time?”  (Time out for a minute: Remember the three years we celebrated?  Well, we’ve spent those three years doing pretty much everything together.  Our ‘honeymoon’ period may have lasted longer than most … I’m not sure, as I’ve never reached three years with anyone before … but the point is, what he does, I do.  What I do, he does.  This new concept raised red flags everywhere for me).

He looked at me placidly, smiled, and said, “Do you want to go camping and fishing all the time?”

“Well, no, not particularly.” I felt my grumpy face coming on.

“So, get a hobby.  Find something to do while I’m fishing and camping.”

What?!?!  Did the love of my life, the man I spend all my time with, just imply in a round about way that I have no hobbies?  My grumpy face was in full effect.

“Babe,” He started.  “You’ve been doing all this cooking recently, and we’ve been talking about taking adventures on the weekends.  Why don’t you start a website ~ blog about how you’ve been learning to cook and experimenting with things.  Blog about how we’ve been trying to eat healthier and get into better shape ~ you’re a great writer and I think it’s a good idea.”

Grumpy face began to dissipate.  I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily, so I didn’t respond right away (I believe I harrumphed and headed back into the kitchen to check on dinner).  But the seed had been planted.  It marinated in my brain over the following long weekend, as we explored a new state park in our area (“It has 27 holes of frisbee golf!” John marvelled), barbecued with friends, and went to the races for a picnic on Memorial Day proper (we won one race with a payout of $4.60, lost more, and John learned that there’s a reason I don’t gamble).

I spent some time trying to figure out how one actually goes about setting up a website.  I scribbled ideas on notepads and post-its (I <3 post its).  I drafted posts in my head as I plodded through the technical rote of this endeavor.   And now, here I am, writing into space, wondering if one day, this post will ever be read.  I read (in one of the many guides to starting a blog that I googled over the past few days) that the success of a blog is diligence in writing on it.  That you have to see if you have the makings of a blogger before your blog can be successful.

So … here I go.  Let’s see what I’m made of! And if, for some reason, you visit this site early on, in its baby phase, let me assure you that I’m working to learn how to edit and add content and upload photos and create a fun place to read, explore and experiment.  Keep your fingers crossed!  It could start out as a bumpy ride.