Sometime early this morning I woke up to find myself firmly wedged between the heavy, sleeping bodies of Rob and Bridget. This has become how we sleep lately, with Bridget curled snugly against my side and easily taking a full third of the bed.

It didn't used to be this way. For years Bridget slept at our feet, approaching the upper half of the bed only in the mornings to wake us up. But this year, she made the migration to the head of the bed. It started during the months of her pee problem, when she was especially clingy and would seek me out for love any chance she got, including crawling onto my chest as soon as I got into bed. I could tell the days she was feeling especially awful because she'd lie with her whiskers pressed against my cheek.

These days she curls into the concave curve of my belly or back, depending on which way I'm facing. Rarely she will place herself between Rob and I, but most often she stakes claim on my side, pushing me to the middle - and I swear smallest - third of the bed.

I don't have a problem with this. It's a compliment for a cat to sleep among mere mortals. And she is soft and snuggly and I consider us all quite cozy. But Rob apparently begs to differ.

The issue involves the covers. You may recall that this is a major point of contention in our marriage. Only now it seems I am the perpetrator. It's not my fault, really. The problem is that Bridget weighs down the covers on her side of the bed - honestly, they do not budge under her girth. And so when I toss and turn, the sheet and blanket slide from the only side they can - Rob's.

This has been happening for awhile, and I suppose Rob's frustration has been building. Because early this morning as I shifted (carefully, so as not to disturb anyone) onto my back in the tight space between Rob and Bridget, he bellowed into the dark, "WHY DO YOU KEEP TAKING THE COVERS?!" It was a question full of misery and suffering, exclaimed in a tormented tone best befitting Job.

I was a bit taken aback. I mean, Rob never raises his voice. He doesn't get angry. He definitely does not bellow. (To be honest, I suspect he doesn't even remember this. He says all sorts of things when he's asleep. The day before, we had been reading about the dating site iminlikewithyou.com and that night, while we were sleeping, Bridget decided she was hungry and attempted to annoy us awake. And Rob said to her, sleepily but sternly, "Bridget, I'm not in like with you dot com." Which naturally cracked my shit up.)

But moreover, it's not like I'm comfortable here either! I have a space exactly the size of my body - the size of my body when I'm lying on my side, no less! - in which to sleep. Rolling over is extremely difficult, requiring me to lift myself up onto my elbow, hoist my hips around in the air, and then settle back into my tiny little spot as best I can. So excuse me if the goddamn blanket moves a bit, you know? And don't think I haven't noticed how his legs are splayed across half the bed, leaving little room for my own which I can't move anyway because Simon is either curled at my knees or sleeping between them. Frankly, it seems an impossibility that I'm stealing covers given that I so rarely am able to MOVE at all. Not that I'm complaining.

Which I guess is the point - stop complaining! Your neck is cold. My arms are numb. BUT THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN DO ABOUT IT. Other than banish the beasts from the bedroom, which will never happpen because we are total pushovers, the true pussies of the household. And we fear the (wailing, howling, body-flinging, door-scratching) wrath of the neglected feline.

I'm still pondering the comment my uncle made to us earlier this week. You had just met him for the first time the day before, and although we'd chatted for a bit then, we didn't have time to return to a longer conversation later. But as we were leaving, he said it was good to see me again and it had been nice to meet you, and then he paused and added with a kind smile, "You make a nice couple."

Now, on this blog I have a lot to say about our couplehood. There are anecdotes and tributes and list after list of things I love about you. It is perhaps bordering on overboard. You know, maybe slightly.

But in person, we don't walk around proclaiming our love ad nauseam. I don't wear a sign declaring that I ADORE THIS MAN. (Well okay, so I do have that shirt that says I love my geek, but it's not like I wear it every day.) And so I admit I'm curious to know why my uncle thinks, enough to tell us, that we make a nice couple. I wonder what tipped him off.

Maybe he saw a shared look between us, or watched as you made me laugh. Or maybe he just thinks, after meeting you, that we're a good fit. This seems to be the reputation we've had since high school, and it's one I'm particularly proud of. Not because it matters how people view us, but because it is an honor to be in this partnership with you. And it's a gift to have found such a good fit.

Happy Birthday, baby. Thanks for being here, for being you, for being part of me.

"If we ever leave a legacy, it's that we loved each other well."

Yesterday was my paternal grandfather's 90th birthday. What he said he most wanted for his birthday was just to see all of us, so our family had arranged for everyone to stop by and visit him throughout the day. Rob and I went last evening. While we ate a piece of birthday cake that my grandmother had made, they told us how joyful the day had been visiting with everyone. And then Grandma shared how the day had begun. "He woke up at twenty 'til four this morning! Twenty 'til four! He got up, and I said, 'What are you doing?!' and he said..."

"I told her I was celebrating!" he interjected.

"Yeah, that's what he told me. That it was his 90th birthday and he was celebrating! And then he went around and plugged in all the candles in the windows!"

"Well, I figure every birthday person needs candles," he explained. "And we have the ones sitting in our windows for Christmas. So I turned on all the candles. For my birthday."

"He did," Grandma said, chuckling. "So then I got up, and I asked him if there was anything I could get him on his 90th birthday, and he said he might like some hot chocolate. So I made him some hot chocolate. And he drank that, and then he said, 'I think I'll take a nap now.'" They both laughed.

Is that not the best birthday story ever?

It was a great visit, but also an odd visit for me because at the same time my other grandfather was dying. Just in the last week he had been diagnosed with lymphoma, and over the weekend the doctors had found a more aggressive cancer that was spreading throughout his entire body. They said he might have 2-3 weeks, but it ended up being more like 2 days. He died early this morning.

He had been mostly out of it this weekend from the pain medications, but Saturday evening he woke up and called the family to his bedside. Not everyone could be there, including Rob and me, but his room was nonetheless filled with family. And he gave his goodbyes. He spoke to each person and then they all sang "Amazing Grace" to him.

Earlier in the evening, my mom had been sitting in his hospital room and he'd said something she couldn't understand. He had to repeat it several times, but finally she understood what he said: "Take out my hearing aid because someone might be able to use it." If you knew my grandfather, you would smile at that because it is so him.

I'd visited with him just last weekend, when he was still at home and more his usual self. I wish I had been at the hospital Saturday to receive his final goodbye, but I'm also glad that my last memory of him is one in which he's wearing his suspenders and sitting in his chair, the soap operas he called his "plays" blaring from the television.

It is strange to mourn the death of one grandfather hours after celebrating the longevity of the other. Such a contrast between "Happy Birthday To You" and "Amazing Grace". And yet oddly enough there are parallels. Cards and flowers. Phone calls from distant relatives. And above all, the importance of loved ones - that each man's simple wish was to be surrounded by his family.

In the comments RzDrms asked for details on our recent trip to Chicago. I'm bad about writing about the trips we take - while we're on the trip I don't want to take time to write, and when we get back trying to summarize the trip is completely overwhelming. For that reason I still haven't written much about our trip in May to the Pacific Northwest. (That and the fact that we haven't even gone through all the photos yet...gah!) But I do like documenting our travels, for our own sake, so I appreciate the request!

A couple weeks ago we went to Chicago with Rob's team from work and their significant others. This was a fun trip, a reward for working their asses off (and also ostensibly an opportunity for "team-building"). The cool thing about Rob's team is that they're all friends and so spending four days with co-workers was not hell on earth but actually a pretty rockin' time.

The team-building began the first evening when our group of 14 tried to choose food from a family-style menu. For the record, certain foods are polarizing issues. Forget immigration or abortion. You want to get a group riled up? Suggest a salad with bleu cheese and olives. I'm just saying. Add to that the food allergies, diets, and general dislikes, and choosing appetizers and entrées to share becomes quite a task. Being a spouse and not a co-worker, I had decided to sit back and let them figure it out. Twenty minutes later, I found myself placing the order with the waiter because I had emerged as the one in charge. That should tell you a lot about me.

We did lots of cool things, skipping the touristy stuff since most of us had been to Chicago before. A few highlights...

Whirlyball.
Yeah, we'd never heard of this either. Think lacrosse in bumper cars on a basketball court. Our Chicago friend suggested it, and it is freaking awesome. That means a lot coming from me, since I don't like fun and all. But this was a blast! And I actually scored a goal!

Second City.
This comedy troupe is one of the "farm leagues" for Saturday Night Live. Lots of famous people got their start here. The show was hilarious, especially when they were doing improv.

Limo ride.
We rented a limo one night for a pub crawl. I had never been in a limo before. It wasn't really what I expected, but then I didn't really know what to expect. The truth is, being in the limo made me feel kinda cheap. This might be because I was with a large group and so it felt high school prom tacky or something. Of course, Rob and I rode in the make-out annex in the back, so it basically was like high school prom. One of my favorite moments of the evening came when we pulled up to a bar, the driver came around to open the door, and the first person out emerged from the limo and then turned around, laughing, and said, "Everyone in the bar was just watching to see who was in the limo, and the door opened...and it was ME!" She's a hoot, and I'm sure she totally owned it. I couldn't actually see her given that I was hastily putting my clothes back on.

Marathon.
The weather on this trip was warmer than when we were there last June. Which was awesome for us, but not so awesome for the marathon. Rob and I watched a little of it on Sunday morning, before the temperatures rose to dangerous levels and they called off the race. It's an amazing thing to see. Reminded me of the time we saw the Gay Pride Parade in New York, actually. All these people moving down the street with a huge crowd of loved ones and strangers yelling encouragement to them, proud of who they are or what they're doing. It's very emotional. You can't help but cheer along and even tear up a little.

Second time around, I still really love this city.

been reading: The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs

The premise of this book is that the author reads the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica. Why I picked this up I have no idea. It sounded intriguing. And it was supposed to be funny. And I was at Powell's, the famous Portland bookstore, and wanted to buy something. The fact that this was in the sale bin should have been a red flag.

In each chapter, which correlates to a letter in the encyclopedia, Jacobs shares some interesting facts that he learns and also details how his quest is affecting his daily life. I made it to the H's. There are so many books I want to read, and this just isn't one of them.

raking leaves (in short sleeves!) and then stomping through them