the yin, the yang

Making pork chops again. It's a Blue Bayou recipe with cumin, coriander, and tons of black pepper. Memo to self: next time freeze chops individually, not in a big lump, which makes defrosting a PITA.

Cub finished the rice and is playing COD 5 as I cook, presumably because we're having a "sit-down" dinner tonight - meaning no Travel Channel hosts joining us for dinner, no Ghost Hunter re-runs. Just us.

Made a mental list of things I love about Cub ...

1) He is extremely fair.

2) He loves and takes care of our dog (and shields him from my wrath when I am at wit's end and am ready to toss him out the car window). He also takes care of the plants I insist on buying but sort of give up on when they refuse to thrive.

3) He is too busy living life to blog, tweet, or post photos on the internet about it. He leaves all that to me.

4) His cooking, at the end of the day, makes everything better.

5) He is order to my chaos.

6) He abandons any and all electronic devices after being called just once. Sometimes, he turns the Xbox off with nary a word from me. Amazing.

7) He's never glued to his phone, has never left the room to make or take a phone call.

8) He jives with my friends and I with his.

9) He works hard, is a quick learner, and is very reliable.

10) He loves me.

Things I'm not nuts about but have accepted about Cub ...

1) Not only is he too busy living life to post photos on the internet, but he never takes photos. Ever. I love taking photos and am glad to be the primary photographer in our relationship, but it would be nice to be in one or two pics that aren't arm-out or timer-set snaps. However for the most part I've gotten over my aversion to the timer and no longer feel stupid sticking a camera in a tree, for instance, and running back to my spot, or grabbing him in sankaku-jime to hold still for a photo. Because of me, our kids will have beautiful photo albums chronicling their lives as they grow up. Because of him, they probably won't care :P.

2) He is extremely fair. This belongs on the above list because obviously fairness is good. It belongs on this list because this fairness nearly eclipses any shred of chivalry he could possibly possess. The other day when we argued about whose car we should sell when it was time to get a CRV, and I had forced him to see that it didn't make sense to get rid of my Saturn in order to keep his beloved truck because in the event of a baby landing we'd still only have one vehicle that would hold it, he said fine, the truck could go. But then I'd have to park on the street half the time, instead of parking in the garage, ten steps from the door, 100 percent of the time as I do now. The sole reason the current arrangement exists at all is because I bought the apartment and was living here long before he was. Now, I will carry six loads of laundry to the door by myself, will change my own windshield wiper blades, and get elbow-deep in vermicast when it's time to harvest. But park my car a block and a half down the street every other week - big fat no thanks. When you come up with a way to make it sound okay that you made your wife walk home in the dark while you skipped to the door in ten steps, let me know.

3) He is order to my chaos. It's on the above list because balance is good. It's on this list because my creativity thrives on chaos and sometimes when he attempts to extinguish my chaos, it cramps my creativity.

4) He hates books. Okay, he doesn't hate books (I would not have married a book hater), he hates their presence all over the apartment. When we met, I kept books in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the bedroom, on the desk. Needless to say, they are now confined to shelves. Aside from PBS giveaways, books are the one thing I refuse to get rid of, and I hope this is something that he will eventually accept about me.

5) Lifestyle habits that are hard to break. Excessive snacking and bouts of insufficient exercise are things we're both guilty of. He's very outdoorsy and over the past two years I've become a big fan of the outdoor workout, but somehow, we can't get rid of our joeys and we have yet to stop, on a night out, at one or two beers (him) or half an order of fries (me). At least this one's something we clearly can work on together.