Let us all pause in the counting down for an important announcement.

We're still counting down to 1,000, and this post will serve as 997, but I have a very important announcement for which we must all pause.

Today is Bubba and my 8th wedding anniversary.

HOLY MIRACLES

I say MIRACLES because LO I am no easy dame to be married to.

To whom to be married? To which? I'm confused. Bubb - which way is it? You know all the answers. TELL ME NOW.

Also, help me shave the cat.

Ugh, it's like this all the time. Poor man, I fear he's still realizing what a tragic misstep it was to link himself to me permanently. I require a lot of attention. And detail. And attention to detail.

I'm sorry that I hoard running shoes and garden gloves in your garage.

I also assume that he knows all things. Which, I feel, is a very old fashioned-y way for a wife to feel about her husband, but this guy has done nothing but reinforce this assumption of mine over the years and I'm just going to be OK with the fact that, in this way, I'm old fashioned.

As far as I'm concerned, he's a genius. He knows a LOT of things. And those things he doesn't know? Well, he figures them out. Which I know because I have never - not once - heard him utter the phrase, "I don't know. Let's just forget about it."

Nope. It's either, "Yep. Here's how you do it." or "I don't know. Let's figure it out."

I love that. In a SO MUCH I'LL MARRY IT kind of way.

Cases in point:
(Hey! A bulleted list! My absolute favorite! Another secret surprise I didn't unveil until after our vows were official with the state. Strategic Crazy, that's my style.

• SplitboardI decided I wanted to go into the backcountry with him after he started going backcountry skiing so that we could, as a pair, avoid the blech lines and crowds at the resorts and also so that we could bring Jada and spend our days in the woods, which is what we prefer.

• 
  

  

  I prefer it.

  So, what did this man do? Um, found a cheap deck online, gave it to me for Chrismahanakwanzika and then proceeded to saw it in half.
  
  Then he built me a splitboard so perfectly balanced and tuned that my first trip into the backcountry was a screaming awesome success.
  
  Just like that. Man + board (+ new swears even I hadn't heard before) + tools = splitboard
  
  
  
  
  Miraculous.

• Brewing beer
  About a year ago some friends left their brewing stuff behind while they went traveling abroad. Bubba inquired about the potential use of their brewing equipment - just in case maybe he was sorta thinking about trying to brew beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A year later, like now, he has made no fewer than a dozen spectacular brews, including a particularly stunning oatmeal stout (not pictured because we drank it at light speed) which I'd like to be bathed in on a daily basis. It's glorious, rich, flavorful and an absolute delight after a rowdy day on the slopes. Right now we're drinking a Bourbon Porter made with Maker's Mark that is nothing shy of fuckingawesome.
  
  Man + carboy + sacks of grains and things = beers
  
  Miraculous.

I'd keep going through the list of miraculous shit that this man pulls out of his hat on a daily basis (mountain biking - like for reals mountain biking, masterminding a home network, grape trellising, CSS/Javascript/HTML/Scripps/Moveable Type/More Computer Languages I Don't Speak, knots - all kinds of knots, rebuilding cars, welding, programming the sunuvabitching super remote...), but I think you get the point.

This guy's awesome. He can DO anything.

And, the kicker and Moral of the Story, if there can be one for a blog post about a wife's love and devotion for her husband on This The Day of Their Anniversary, is that he thinks that *I* can do anything, too.

Well, at least that's the act he's putting on in the sweetest and most genuine fashion.

See, perhaps you've noticed that I have a lot of hobbies. I do a lot of random things. I try a lot of this and that. I also obsess, get up to my ears in and lose myself to some of these hobbies.

Take the garden for instance. Yikes.

It's true. I do it. It's OK to talk about it.

Well, you may be interested to know that every time I even casually and quietly mention that I might want to try my hand at something - anything - new, he's the absolute very first one (probably because he's usually standing right there keeping me from killing myself while I try some other random thing) to be all, "YOU SHOULD! TRY IT!" or whatever.

And then later, when I'm waffling, he'll be all, "Come on, man - you're going to be awesome/win the race/love it/have honey/look great in that sweater/grow a hundred pounds of vegetables/be fluent/etc.

And despite the many things he's encouraged me to try over the years, he's never lost that enthusiasm.

Yes. It's possible that he's insane. It is also possible that I'm insane and the fact that we found and linked ourselves permanently to one another is not coincidental because no other person would have either of us, but I love him tons and he's a genius and he thinks I can do anything and let's not forget that he is - HANDS DOWN - the funniest fucker that I know. 

And because you just sat through that whole rambling gushing post about my Bubba, I will share with you all a recent gem of his that totally got me right in the funny parts.

This is my sports bra.

It's from Enell. They just call it a sports bra. Even though it is the most stranglyest, suffocatingest, most GET THIS THING THE HELL OFF OF ME after a race-ingest contraption ever wrapped around two unknowing boobs.

It works, don't get me wrong, but it is neither flattering nor comfortable.

Bubba knows this. Which is why, when I get ready to go running and go through the process of inserting myself into this torturous device, he calls it either:

The Boston Marathon Strangler

OR

Fort Knockers

See? Funny guy. And that's just a random off-the-cuff comment made in the wee early morning hours as I'm getting ready to go out for a run. Imagine what it's like when he's fully awake, caffeinated (or drinking) and in full Laugh Riot mode.

Yeah, it is a bit scary. You're right. But it's worth it.

Anyway, set the countdown to three posts and - JUST FOR BUBBA - I love you, man.

Like, a lot.