Blackberries and Butterfly Crack.

Have you forgiven me as agreed? My second bout of radio silence indeed accompanied another batch of late nights and long hours, but here we are, resumed as promised. And before we get going, let's all acknowledge that this post will not meet my previously stated attempt to limit personal tellings on the blog. It is, after all, called "A Girl and A Goose." I win times infinity.

Goose started his new job two weeks ago. Since then, we have worked a combined 300 hours. I lie not. Which means the majority of our time together has involved shaving, teeth brushing, hair curling and passing like two ships in the night.

This weekend, the clouds parted and our blackberries were silent (which causes another problem all together - crap, is my blackberry broken? how many test emails should I send myself from my iPhone to make sure it's working? am i crazy?). And although what we really wanted to do was catch up on our lack of sleep, we made a point to celebrate our 104th day of marriage (it's a big one, obviously) and enjoy Houston together.

Speaking of ships (baha), I've been dying to go see the Titanic Exhibit at the Natural History Museum. Every since I read Danielle Steel's "No Greater Love" at like age 13, I've had a morbid fascination with the boat. If you're not a Danielle Steel fan, you should be. (Goose and I had the discussion one time of how she's probably one of the most successful American writers of all time, for better or worse. I think better. He thinks worse.) Spoiler alert: "No Greater Love" includes a love story, people dying, and hopeful redemption. Oh, that's not a spoiler? Every Danielle Steel book meets that definition? Veird.

I digress. The exhibit is a celebration of the 100th anniversary of Titanic's sinking and includes hundreds of artifacts pulled from the boat's debris field. The exhibit was, indeed, pretty cool and fairly well done. BUT, and this is a big BUT, I think I should be hired as a comma consultant for their future exhibits...the sentence structure in the explanatory writings was so overwhelmingly WRONG, I couldn't half read the wall disclosures without gagging. My OCD brain just couldn't see past the misplaced commas, lack of periods, and double/triple spaces in mid-sentence. Self-diagnosed freakazoid.

We then wandered around the newly renovated Paleontology Hall. Have we met? If so, you probably know that I explain the pronunciation of my maiden name (which, come on, it sounds just like it looks - let's not get squirrely here...) is akin to the pronunciation of "Dinosaur." Did you just do it in your head? See, totally sound the same, yes? Moral of that story in case you missed it: I love dinosaurs.

Let's connect those dots to probably one of the greatest movies of our generation...A Land Before Time. If you haven't seen it, you should be embarrassed, and then you should click on the picture below. Then come back.



"Poor, poor Petrie."

Seriously, if you didn't click on the picture, stop now, do it, and come back. 

Now that you've seen the clip, you know that our firstborn yorkie, Petrie, is not named for a scientific dish (seriously?), but instead for a baby pterodactyl. Our Petrie is way yiddler than this guy:

Prehistoric Petrie.

A few more from our grazing. All I can think of when I see these pictures is Ross Geller. Best TV character of all times.

Ross: Does little Ross like dinosaurs by any chance?
Mr. Zelner: Yeah, they're all he talks about, why?
Ross: How would he like to come with me to the Museum of Natural History after everyone else has left, just the two of us, and he can touch anything he wants?
Ross: I just heard it as you must have heard it and that's not good. Let me start again. I'm a paleontologist, you'll be there with us and the touching refers only to bones - fossils!

And then on to the Butterfly Conservatory. Which should be called Crack for Type-As. This thing was so peaceful, Goose and I walked in and just stood there. Literally stood there.

Goose on butterfly crack.

Please note my husband's butterfly handout. He loves lists and checking things off of them, including the butterflies he has seen. Goose, sorry for any street cred that was just damaged in that disclosure. Sorry I'm not sorry.

Then we had to start moving, because they keep the massive rain forest simulation at a sweltering 80 degrees and 123% humidity. Hot yoga in your clothes, anyone?

Please ignore my man hobbit feet. I tend to have small limbs and large appendages.

Oh, and then a butterfly fell out of a tree, thudded at my feet, and made me cry. Butterfly crack does weird things with your emotions, I'm telling you.

We rounded out the day with Torchy's Tacos, a Boardwalk Empire marathon, and puppy snuggling. I opened the back door and fired up some fall-smelling potpourri on the stove. I thawed a batch of homemade gumbo and popped a bottle of our favorite wine.

Petrie, the non-scientific dinosaur dish, and Paxter.

It was, after all, our 104th day of a glittery marriage. And our blackberries were silent.

P.S. Goose said the gumbo tasted like rubber. I win.