I’ve been so lame about posting.  Here’s a quick one:

Derrick and I are now leaving for a full 32 hours without children, responsibilities, or a schedule.  The kids are being dropped off at Saint Cara and Saint Julies’ homes (loveliest friend and sister ever), and the hubby and I are taking off to Portland until late Saturday night (a curse upon his new calling!)

In 32 hours we will squeeze in:  a session at the Portland temple (where we were married–it’s sentimental, okay?); a late night dinner, possibly at “Montage” (sp?) which is this unbelievably cool restaurant under a bridge in some funky part of town that is way too hip and young for us, but a couple can dream;  a leisurely morning stroll through downtown’s Saturday Market, which we haven’t done in ages; a heavy consumption of all foods ethnic, deep fried, or with suspicious odors and ingredients; a little “someday” window shopping; and, of course, a big fat trip to Powell’s bookstore, which we don’t dare do first because we know if we do, the rest of the day is shot.  I love my husband.  I love that he loves Powell’s.  I love a weekend–finally–that is empty enough to waste a little time together.  I’m especially loving my kids’ babysitters, too.  Lovin’ it! (But not in a McDonald’s sort of way.)