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Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

So, how does one measure a year?

While walking the puppies in the woods this afternoon (a luxury that can only be indulged by working at home and a spouse burning through some vacation leave), I posed such a question to Capt Mike. How has our first year rated, so far? As wedding anniversaries go, our first has definitely been our best. We took ourselves out to dinner at Smith and Wollensky (who kindly indulged us even further by letting us leave with approximately 5 lbs of Grade AAA angus rib eye for Dexter and Zeppelin, free of charge), bought a bottle of champagne at Bloom on the way home, and toasted in our "New Year" while watching Saturday Night Live highlights on E! (the cable channel, not the pharmaceutical).

As far as our year goes, we've done fairly well. We've learned that there really is no keeping score: things get done when they need to get done by the person who needs to get them done. Sometimes it sucks when that person is you and the thing that needs to get done is cleaning the toothpaste residue out of a double sink again, but in the grand scheme of things, the universe does have a way of evening this stuff out. We've learned that Weimaraner puppies really do eat everything, and somehow manage not to get themselves killed doing so (you try eating 3 lbs of tea light wax and live to tell the tale). We've learned that all of the world's problems could probably be pretty easily sorted out if the involved parties were willing to sit down over a few glasses of Banfi's Chianti Classico Riserva (seriously, this sh!t really is bananas). And we've learned that life would be inconsolably, stiflingly, incomprehensibly wretched without being able to laugh at its idiosyncracies together.

Here's to us, Capt Mike. Happy Anniversary. I cannot wait to see what our next year together holds.

xox