Brought to you by the letter "B"

"B" is for birthday, it's good enough for me.

Did you get the Sesame Street reference?  Did you, did you?

Let's keep this simple.  Sesame Street Style.

"B" is for "Ben."

"B" is for "Birthday."

{early morning latté's}

{tasi's poached eggs over black bean cakes with a jalapeño butter sauce}

{guiness stew to be exact, along with bread  (lots and lots of garlic), and caprese salad}

{devils food cake with chocolate buttercream frosting and a raspberry center}

{some good friends came to help celebrate.  friends doesn't start with "b," sorry.}

 Happy 25th Birthday to my best friend!

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree

In our first year of marriage, Ben and I began a tradition.  Every year, on Ben's birthday weekend, we go cut down our own Christmas tree.  As of Friday evening, (identified by my impatience to give Ben his gift I have been slaving over) birthday weekend had begun, so today we went on a trip to Gale's tree farm in hopes of bringing some Christmas cheer into our home.

We couldn't have asked for more beautiful weather to impel our trek.  We could have asked, however, for the unnamed street fair in the middle of our expedition to happen on another day, our dog to be less of a scaredy cat, or Ben's coffee from Dunkin Donuts to not be a pure cup of sweetened milk.  But be that as it may, despite these minor drawbacks, it was a near perfect day for the Kochanowski family.

We spent the rest of the day decorating the tree and watching claymation Christmas movies.  It was a splendid way to spend a Saturday afternoon.


By the way, as I lay in bed writing this post, Gus just started dreaming out loud and Ben had me convinced for a good solid minute that it was Herbert.  I'm still not entirely sure it wasn't.

The Great Mouse Hunt

I have a story to share.  I warn you, it's not a happy ending.  At least not for us.

Remember Herbert?

Herbert is our house mouse.  While I would like to say that he is a welcomed member of the family, he doesn't live in a cage, therefore his free rain over our apartment makes him unwelcome.  He doesn't realize this though.   He thinks that we love him. 

I understand why he may think that.  Why else would we provide him with a pantry full of goodies all to himself but through love?  Or plastic toys (ahem, measuring cups and kitchen utensils) to chew on in his leisure.  Sometimes we even set out a personal meal for him on a super fun death defying obstacle course.  Nothing but love coming from us.

Well, last night, Herbert was taunting Ben.  I came home to our countertops and appliances askew and Ben holding two pieces of tupperware hovering over the gaping hole between the fridge and wall.  Seeing me, Ben immediately apprised me of the situation and much to my reluctance, handed me a tupperware and assigned me to a post determined to catch this little daredevil. 

Herbert was sure all of this commotion was a game. He would run in and out from under the fridge.  In and out, in and out, taunting us and calling us names.  Then, he met Gus.  Gus thought Herbert seemed like a pretty fun toy and chased him out from under the fridge.....

... straight into our bedroom.  Ugh.  We played hide and seek for another hour as Herbert dodged back and forth between the dresser and bedroom door until he disappeared into thin air.  Just in case you haven't caught on yet, this is the not happy ending.  He was gone.  No clue how, no clue where. 

Needless to say, I did not sleep very well last night.

Until we meet again Herbert, until we meet again.

Under Construction

As you can see by the mumble jumble mess before your eyes, we are currently undergoing some serious reconstructive works.