The Story of Us, Part 4. An engagement and a party.

[parts 1, 2, and 3 here.]

The months leading up to the wedding now seem to have passed by in a blur, but they were not easy. One of Sam’s dearest friends passed away only a few days after our engagement, and that rocked both of our worlds. There was also the uncertainty of whether Sam would be able to find a job in Princeton (we both had decided that we did not want to start our marriage out long-distance, and Sam wanted to come up to Princeton to support me, especially during the next year, when I would be preparing for my comprehensive exams). Also, it was a lot of work planning a wedding while doing PhD coursework.

In other words, our engagement was a mixture of good and hard. Visiting Sam’s family in Tanzania was definitely a highlight of our engagement, as was getting our engagement pictures taken by some of our dear friends, Bailey and James Scott. (And, to be honest, I also did like planning a wedding while doing PhD coursework—it was an enjoyable way to procrastinate.) Sam decided that he wanted to try to get our wedding announcement in the New York Times, and, remarkably, they did end up printing our wedding announcement (and Bailey Scott’s phenomenal photography skills), much to our delight.

[safari-ing in tanzania.]

[pc: the inimitable bailey scott.]

[if you are wanting more engagement pictures, you can go to this post here.]

We planned for a late May wedding, and because of various reasons (venue availability, Memorial Weekend plans, stress levels, etc.), we decided to split the day of the reception and the day of the actual wedding. Having the reception the night before does not work for everyone, I realize, but it did work for us. And, for me, it was nice to have some breathing space the day of the actual wedding—it allowed me to focus on the ceremony rather than worry about traffic, catering, or flowers.

[what follows is a montage of formal wedding photos by our incredible wedding photographer, justin hackworth. hiring justin to be our wedding photographer is still one of the best decisions we made for our wedding. 11/10 recommend.]

 The day of our wedding reception was a perfect May evening. If you haven’t experienced Utah in late May, it is a beautiful thing. The mountains and the valleys are green, the weather has not become too hot yet, and the air is fresh. We were lucky to have two perfect May days—May 24^th and May 25^th—for our reception and wedding days. Our wedding venue—Wadley Farms—was verdant and lovely, with green foliage and soft twinkle lights, making for a perfect backdrop.

And we were even luckier to have such an outpouring of love from family and friends. My neighbors and former youth leaders volunteered to help out with serving the food; aunts, uncles, and cousins helped with decorations and with managing A/V equipment; friends from throughout the years came to see our happiness. There were so many people who came. So, so many. When I look back at that party, I am filled with joy, and so grateful to everyone who came and gave to celebrate with us.

[the series with the garter toss is absolutely hilarious.]

[the real mvps.]

[the story continues in part 5]

The Story of Us, Part 3. In Which We Start Dating.

[To read the beginning of our story, you can go to Part 1 and Part 2.]

After Sam’s trip to Salt Lake City, we kept on talking and Skyping, like we said we would. I kept wishing we were in the same place—it was hard to make a decision over such a long distance, and I was reluctant to start a long-distance relationship. But at some point in December, I decided to take the leap and ask Sam if I could come and visit him in January, over the MLK holiday. Our conversations were still going well, and I really did like him—so why not take that chance?

Sam said he would like that, and so I booked flights to D.C. while we made plans for what we would do while I was there. Museums, bougie brunches, walks around the Mall, meeting up with friends, etc. When I got on the plane, I had butterflies. I was nervous and excited to see what the weekend would bring.

The weekend brought only good things. It brought good, clearing conversations about this new relationship with Sam with friends I stayed with, it brought fun excursions to D.C. museums and restaurants with Sam, and, most importantly, Sam and I decided to start dating. We also had our first kiss in D.C.

[getting shakes at shake shack with two of my friends from cambridge, beth and jonathan. this picture was taken the day of our first kiss.]

[a newly-minted couple at the library of congress.]

We left that weekend on a high, and made plans to try to visit each other at least once a month. To be in a long distance relationship was not ideal for either of us (I don’t think it is for anyone), but we really liked each other and wanted to see where things would lead. Long-distancing dating changes the shape of the relationship, I think. At least, it did for us. Long-distance meant that we talked a lot, and then when we were together, time seemed to speed up. One of the most difficult things about long-distance dating for me was that we were not as connected to each other’s lives. I didn’t know his friends well, and he didn’t know mine. We couldn’t just go grocery shopping together, or watch a movie on a whim. The stakes could feel higher when we were together, but then when we were apart, time seemed to slow down.

Recounting the next part of our relationship—when we were dating—takes a lot of going back and forth. Sam came out to visit me in Utah, then I would go and visit him in D.C. We spent long hours on FaceTime with each other. I fell more and more in love with him, and knew that we had a good thing. There were turning points as the relationship developed. We told each other that we loved each other. I had an existential breakdown in front of him right after a campus visit, and he comforted me, and in that conversation, I think we both realized that we both saw a future together. We celebrated my PhD acceptances together, and Sam was there to listen to me give my pros and cons lists about PhD decisions. We talked about our values—about God, about our families, about our missions, about politics, about spirituality, about literature, about music. We met each other’s families and friends (even if I could only meet his parents via Skype, as they lived in Tanzania at the time).

[on top of ensign peak in salt lake city.]

[windswept and happy.]

[contemplating eternity.]

[visiting oxford and cambridge together as girlfriend and boyfriend.]

[with sam's friend neil at little gidding.]

As our relationship progressed, we both thought seriously about whether we wanted to keep dating, and whether we would get married. And, we both had separate experiences which helped push us in the direction of marriage. By August, I was making plans to move across the country to Princeton, New Jersey, to start a PhD program. Both Sam and I were both excited that I would be substantially closer (a 3-hour car drive instead of a 5-hour cross-country flight). But we were also both thinking about where our relationship would go, and if we wanted to move in the direction of marriage. I think I was the first one to broach the subject, and I don’t remember what we talked about—just that we talked a bit about it, and ultimately decided to just keep moving in that direction. That conversation was important to me in framing my mindset about our relationship. For Sam, inviting me to his parents’ place in Tanzania for Christmas that year was meaningful to him in moving the relationship forward.

[we talked about our future in the utah wildflowers.]

I drove out to Princeton with my mom, and Sam came a couple of days later to help me move in. I remember that after my mom left, I was feeling so incredibly homesick and scared for this new chapter in my life, and Sam and I went back to my bare apartment and I just cried and cried. It meant a lot to me that he would just sit with me and hold me. Whenever I recount this story to him, Sam says, “Yes, you were really sad.” I was really sad that day.

[the day i moved to princeton and when i was really sad.]

The decrease in distance was incredibly helpful to our relationship. (Me starting a PhD program was not helpful in smoothing the path of our relationship, as it increased my stress levels, but that’s another story for another day.) Instead of seeing each other every month, we were able to see each other every other week, sometimes more frequently. Our relationship became stronger (despite the strains of the PhD program), and we both started talking more openly about marriage.

[on one of sam's many visits to princeton.] 

[one of my many visits to d.c.]

[meeting halfway in philly.] 

I expected that Sam would most likely propose over Christmas break, when I was visiting his family in Tanzania. I thought maybe he’d propose on a beach in Zanzibar, since that seemed to fit both of our romantic expectations.

However, Sam surprised me with his proposal.

I was down in D.C. again, over Thanksgiving Break. Sam had come up to Sykesville, Maryland, to have Thanksgiving dinner with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. The day after Thanksgiving, I went down to D.C. to spend more time with Sam. It was just a nice weekend, with beautiful, sunny, late-fall days. We hung out with friends, we talked about work, and we talked a little bit about the future.

Sunday morning, Sam woke up with the calm, purposeful thought of, “I’m going to propose to Megan today.” He somehow got my parents’ phone number and called my dad that morning, since Sam knew that was important to me and my parents. 

I did not know this. I was just having a nice morning with friends, getting ready for Church. Although I did notice that when I met Sam at the church building, he was in a particularly good mood.

After sacrament meeting, Sam asked if I wanted to take a walk. I said sure—it was a nice day, and I had to leave to head back up to Princeton in a couple of hours, and I wanted to spend more time with him. We walked in the neighborhoods of Chevy Chase, Maryland, down from the chapel to a small, quiet park a couple of blocks away, and sat on a bench which was hidden in shade.

When we sat down, Sam said, “So I called your dad this morning.”

I was really surprised. “Really? What did he say?”

Sam said that he would tell me soon, but first he needed to ask me. He then got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

I was taken aback, but I said yes.

The proposal was simple, sweet, spontaneous, and romantic. There was no ring, just our promise to each other and the hope of the future.

[recently-engaged. pc: megan ryssman--sorry we couldn't tell you we were engaged yet, we hadn't yet told our families.]

To have to leave your fiancé just hours after you agree to marry him is definitely not ideal, but I had class Monday morning and I had to get back to Princeton. Sam and I called our parents together, and then I spent the the drive up to Princeton calling my siblings, calling my friends, calling my grandmothers. It was definitely the most joyful car ride to Princeton I’ve ever experienced.

I was overwhelmed by the amount of love friends, family, and colleagues poured out on us. The women in my cohort threw a small engagement party for me. I received so many kind notes and messages from not only my family and friends, but from Sam’s. Joy and love were multiplied, and the world seemed to bask in a golden glow.

[The story continues in Part 4]

The Story of Us, Part 2. A First Date.

[For the beginning of our story, you can check out Part 1.] 

I spent a good chunk of that summer traveling throughout Eastern Europe, but in August, I was back in Utah and getting ready to start a new job in Salt Lake City. Sam was in Utah for a month, getting ready to move to D.C.

When I returned to Utah, Sam and I texted each other, and at some point, decided to meet up and watch the Olympics. It was very informal, and I wasn’t sure if it was a date or not. As the afternoon wore on, I figured it was not (which took away some of the pressure), and so we just watched the Olympics, ate British chocolates, reminisced about England, and talked about what we were looking forward to in our upcoming moves.

Sam moved to D.C., but we kept up a texting correspondence via Facebook Messenger. When I look back at some of those conversations, I see just how much we were texting each other, and I see how the interest in each other started to grow. I remember when we first started Skyping, how those interactions made our budding relationship start to feel more real. I also remember going to bed one night after Skyping with Sam and thinking, “If he were in Salt Lake, or if I were in D.C. right now, we’d probably be going on dates.” I also remember thinking directly afterwards, “But, we’re not in the same place, and if anything, I’m really enjoying getting to know him. We’re in a really good place in our friendship.”

I think that it was only a couple of days afterwards that Sam “officially” asked me out on a date.

It was in October, and he asked me out over Skype. I remember that we were talking, and then Sam said, “I’d like to ask you out.” 

When he said that, I thought that he meant on a Skype date. Maybe we’d order pad thai and watch a movie together, 2,000-miles away? But then he said, “I want to fly out to Salt Lake to take you on a date, and I was wondering what you’d think about that.”

I was pleasantly surprised. “Thank you!” I said, “That’s really kind of you. I’d really like that.”

Sam has told me that when I said, “that’s really kind of you,” he was thinking, “this is not kind of me. I really just want to take you on a date!” 

But that is what came out of my mouth at the time, because I was surprised, because I was flattered, because I didn’t know what else to say, because I knew that the flight to Salt Lake would be expensive, but I really would like to go out with him.

We made plans for Sam to come out to Salt Lake in November, the week before Thanksgiving. I was returning to Oxford in early November for my graduation, and the mid-November date worked out well for both of our schedules.

The prospect of Sam flying out to Salt Lake to take me on a date was exciting to me. Mentally, I tried to remain calm about it—I had been burned in many other relationships and I was not eager to get my hopes up, only to have them come crashing down again—but my actions proved otherwise. I told my roommates about Sam’s upcoming trip; I mentioned it to my co-workers; and I meticulously planned out the outfits I would wear. Sam would be in Salt Lake for about two-and-a-half days, and I knew that the days would practically run into one, long marathon date—dates I had scoffed at while at BYU, but which now seemed necessary in our case.

I also felt nervous. I didn’t think Sam meant to put a lot of pressure on this date, but the stakes felt high. I didn’t know what he expected, and I was nervous that he might want to rush into a relationship too quickly.

When Sam got to Salt Lake, he headed for Temple Square. At the time, I was interning with Latter-day Saint Church Magazines, so I worked in the Church Office Building, which is on the same complex as the Salt Lake Temple and Tabernacle. We had agreed to meet first during my lunch break, and then we’d meet up for dinner in Provo. I met him outside of the Church Office Building and gave him a big hug. I was still feeling nervous, but I was excited to see him. 

We had decided on some of our mega-date-weekend activities beforehand, and the first one was to visit an art exhibit in Raphael Plescia's home. It was, honestly, one of the stranger things I have ever done. Raphael and his artwork were very eccentric—the artwork was Mormon-adjacent, but his house felt like the house of a hoarder, full of knick-knacks, tools, and such. We both left the house and agreed that it felt like a weird mission experience—you meet so many different sorts of people on a mission, and going into that man’s house felt like visiting the home of a more eccentric person on the mission—someone who is all-too-eager to tell you everything about their life story, philosophy, love affairs, and past sins, just because you have a black name-tag above your heart.

The rest of the weekend, though, was not strange at all. We had a lovely time together—eating at restaurants, hiking in the canyons, going to bookshops, visiting Gilgal Gardens (which was another strange art exhibit, but not nearly as strange as the man’s house, so it felt almost normal), and just talking. It was, indeed, a marathon-date, and after awhile, I grew exhausted. Dating—especially in its early stages—can be performative, even if you are trying to be true to yourself, and it is tiring trying to be interesting all of the time. Besides, I was also working on PhD applications that November, and I was trying to keep myself to a deadline of submitting my applications before Thanksgiving.

As Saturday evening approached, I told Sam that I was getting tired and that I was getting anxious about working on my applications. But I was also mindful that he had flown all of the way from D.C. to Utah to see me, and so I asked him if there was anything else he wanted to do or anywhere else he wanted to go before I turned in for the evening. Sam asked if we could go to Temple Square.

Internally, I started to freak out a bit. Temple Square is so loaded with symbolism—not only religiously, but culturally. The Salt Lake Temple is the most popular temple for weddings, and thousands of couples have gotten engaged at Temple Square—especially around Christmas time, with all of the lights. The lights had just gone up at Temple Square and, still not knowing Sam well, I was cautious.

Still, I agreed, and off to Temple Square we went.

It turns out that Sam just wanted to go to Temple Square because he wanted a place to talk—and that was not going to happen at my apartment since my roommates had their own weekend plans at our apartment. He also wanted to see the lights, since this would be the only chance he got to see them that year. We sat down on a bench on Temple Square—not too close to the Temple, and far from the gathering crowds.  

I don’t remember who broke the silence, him or me (I think it was him), but at some point, someone mentioned, “I’ve really enjoyed this weekend and getting to know you better, but now—what do we do?”

“I had a really good time this weekend, too,” I said. “But yes, I am wondering the same thing. You can be completely honest with me with what you’re thinking. I won’t be offended.”

Since I had had so many negative “define-the-relationships” before, I was bracing myself for bad news—I thought that maybe Sam was actually more interested in other people in DC or something like that.

He surprised me with his next statement.

“Honestly? I’m thinking that I would really like to kiss you right now,” he said.

I started laughing—not at him, but just because I was nervous, and I said so.

“But obviously,” he said, “We don’t have to. But you did tell me to say what was on my mind, and that’s what’s on my mind.”

I contemplated it for a few seconds, but I was too nervous. “I’m not ready yet,” I said. “I really do like you, but I am just not sure yet about where we should take this. It would be so much easier if I were in D.C.—”

“—and you’re in a state of flux with PhD programs—”

“—and I don’t think we should necessarily start anything or commit to anything. Just keep talking, I guess. And Skyping. And if things continue to go well, I could come visit you in D.C.”

Sam agreed. 

We talked for awhile about some of our past relationships—what had gone well, what had not gone well, and what our ideals were in a relationship. I was shocked by how easy it was to talk to him, even after I had effectively just put our relationship in a limbo state. Usually, guys had not been this normal or kind after I had told them I wasn’t ready to date them (which, had been a sign that I probably shouldn’t date them after all). But Sam was so normal and good to me. A kind man who respected boundaries? What kind of magic was this?

He suggested we get ice cream, and we left the bench on Temple Square to walk across the street to an ice cream store nearby. On the way there, I apologized that I couldn’t give a clear answer about what we should do in our relationship. “I’ve put you in a state of limbo, and that’s hard,” I said. “But it’s not that I don’t like you. I do. I’m just not sure where to go.”

Sam looked at me and said something that effectively sealed his fate, although neither of us truly knew that yet. “Megan,” he said, “you don’t owe me anything. I came out to Utah with the purpose of getting to know you better, and I have. I have had a great weekend with you. And you have no obligation of showing me any physical affection—you don’t have to ‘pay me back’ for coming to Salt Lake. You don’t owe me a hand hold, a kiss, nothing. I have too many friends and acquaintances who think that girls owe them something for dates, and I do not think that way. And in a culture and society which too often does not respect women’s agency, just know that I respect yours.”

His response floored me. Dang it, I thought, NOW I want to kiss you.

We got ice cream, I brought Sam home to his friend’s house, Sam went out to see a movie, and I called my friend Em and fretted that I had done something wrong. She reassured me that I hadn’t. But in those early stages of a relationship, everything feels so fragile. It is easier said than done to just trust in the process and the grace of love.

Whenever I tell the story about how Sam and I started dating, the story of that night on Temple Square is particularly meaningful to me. Not because of its location, but because how it revealed to me who Sam was. Sometimes I finish with that story and just let it speak for itself, as though I realized in that moment that I wanted to marry Sam, and that everything was crystal clear from that point on. It wasn’t. But that conversation was a turning point in our burgeoning relationship, and it opened the door for good things to come.

[Continued in Part 3]

The Story of Us, Part 1. A Cute Meet in Cambridge.

In honor of our second anniversary, I wanted to do what every basic white girl uses a blog for--telling the story of how she and her significant other met and fell in love. (If a blog is not a vehicle for posting an obscene amount of wedding photos, what else is it for?) 

But I know that I, for one, really do enjoy hearing about how people met and fell in love, if nothing else because I find it beautiful that everyone's story is different. I like hearing how people found each other, and how they chose each other. So if you like those stories, too, then I hope you'll indulge me. 

As for Sam and me, we technically met as freshmen in college in 2009. We were in the same freshman ward at BYU (which, for non-Latter-day Saint readers, means that, based on where we lived, our freshman dorms were grouped together in church congregation based on geography). We attended the same church meetings, probably went to a lot of the same church activities, and had mutual friends in the ward. But neither of us recall meeting the other. Sam claims he remembers my last name (which, to be fair, since it is an unusual name, he probably did), and maybe we said hello to each and exchanged pleasantries at an ice cream social. But we didn't know each other. And we probably wouldn't have been interested in each other at that time in our lives. If anything, our story is about second (and third) chances.

We didn't meet each other again until 2015, right after we had just graduated from BYU. A mutual friend of ours (who would end up being our mutual sister-in-law, as she was dating and would soon marry Sam's brother) approached both of us separately and offered to introduce us to each other. She knew we would both be going to England for master's degrees (I was off to Oxford, and Sam was going up to Cambridge), and she thought we would get along well, personality- and interests-wise. She was also very vocal in her intent that both of us would hopefully start dating--both of us recall her saying to us that she wanted me for a sister-in-law (and so, I apologize, Bronwen, that I am probably not the sister-in-law you were hoping for! I'm much less shiny in real life).

I was open to meeting new people, but I was also skeptical. It turns out Sam was feeling the same way. We were both in weird limbo states--both healing from heartbreaks, both eager for new beginnings in England, but neither really open to starting a new relationship. Regardless, we got into contact with each other, made plans to meet for lunch at a Korean bibimbap place in Provo, and to actually make each other's acquaintance.

Neither of us considered that lunch a date. We ordered separately (and Sam judged me for ordering a level-2 spiciness--out of ten--for my bibimbap while he ordered a level-7), sat awkwardly across the table from each other, and exchanged typical Provo get-to-know-you questions: What was your major? Did you know so-and-so? Where did you serve your mission? (I judged Sam for his answer to that one when I found out he had served in Latin America--as a person who served in Eastern Europe, I figured that no other missionaries had it as tough as we did.) We talked about how we were both excited to go to England for grad school, and what we thought we might research for our dissertations. 

That was it. No spark, no promises of seeing each other again. Just a mutual sizing up of each other, and general well-wishes for the move to England. Maybe we'd run into each other in Oxford, Cambridge, or London at Latter-day Saint Young Single Adult conventions, or maybe not. 

But we had broken the ice. And so when we did see each other again in England--in London for a conference, or when Sam was in Oxford for research, we saw each other occasionally, and got to know each other a bit better. 

[this is our first picture together. sam was in oxford for a research trip and wanted to see friends while he was there. pc: briana bowen.] 

In June 2016, towards the end of both of our master's degrees, I took a day trip to Cambridge from Oxford with some other BYU alumni. Three out of the four of us who went on this trip had participated in the Cambridge Pembroke-Kings Programme as undergrads, and had each studied at Cambridge over a summer term. I had studied abroad at Cambridge the summer after my freshman year, and the experience was transformative and magical for me (and, I would say, for all of us). I often talked about how it was love-at-first-sight when it came to Cambridge, and even though I deeply loved my time at Oxford, my freshman summer at Cambridge will always be special to me. 

A new crop of BYU students was arriving for this annual program, and the professor who directed the BYU students wanted us to come to Cambridge to welcome them and encourage them. He offered to drive four of us to Cambridge, and I was excited to return to a place which meant so much to me. 

It was Sunday, and we arrived at Cambridge a few minutes before the Latter-day Saint sacrament meeting was about to start. Sam was there, and he and another former BYU student-turned-Cambridge-master's student named Madeleine excitedly greeted us. They had not expected us, and they were excited to see old friends and eager to spend time with us and show us around. 

After church, Sam joined me and the rest of the Oxford crowd in the church's kitchen, where we prepared sandwiches with meats, cheeses, and vegetables we had brought along with us. I don't know what it was about that afternoon--maybe it was the surprise of seeing old friends and acquaintances, maybe it was the prospect of showing Cambridge in the magic of late June, or maybe it was my blue dress, but as Sam talked animatedly to me, I could tell that something had shifted in his interest levels towards me--he talked to me more, and he sought out ways to be near me. I also found myself disappointed to hear that he already had other plans for the day--he was going to listen to the King's Singers on the River--but he promised to try to find us all tickets so we could also listen on the lawn. 

[on that fateful june day in front of king's college chapel. what a magical place.]

Sam's interest in me was not lost on the others of the group. As soon as Sam left, my friends started teasing me relentlessly. Later, on our way to meet up again with Sam and Madeleine, one of my friends said that if there were no more tickets for the King's Singers, we had to "convince Sam that he couldn't give up his tickets because of us," and they delegated the responsibility of telling Sam to me, "since he's going to listen to you more." When we did meet Sam and Madeleine at Newton's Bridge at Queens' College, Sam told us that in fact, there were no more tickets, "but it's fine, because I don't want to go anymore." Instead, he volunteered to show us around Queens'. My friend elbowed me and mimicked, "He didn't want to go anymore," and I hurriedly shushed him, afraid that Sam would notice and be embarrassed. 

Sam didn't notice. He was too happy to be showing us around his college. Later, we would all revel in our luck that even though we couldn't get tickets to listen to the King's Singers on the lawn, we could still listen on the bridge, and I listened to their songs, with Sam at my side, marveling that Cambridge was working its charm on me again. 

Right before the Oxford group left--after an evening talking with BYU students--Sam found me again and said that he had wished we had more time to talk and get to know each other, and said that if we were both in Utah over the summer, he would love to get together. I agreed. I later found out that a couple of days after that evening in Cambridge, Madeleine would suggest to Sam that he should ask me out.

[To be continued in Part 2] 

Some May Flowers

Just some pictures from campus walks. Princeton is beautiful in the spring. 

Thank you for joining me on a virtual springtime walk around Princeton. 

Covid Updates part who-knows-what

I have a few different places I record my pandemic thoughts--my journal, my blog, a special Covid-19 notebook I have--but it gets to the point where I don't even remember what I've written where, or if there's even a "part i, ii, iii" to all of it. Because, when we get down to it, this feels like the song that will never end. Or like that part in Jacob 7 where Jacob mentions that "our lives passed away as it were unto us a dream." Yep. It's feeling a lot like that nowadays--nowaweeks.

But here are some snapshots of our endless numbered days (if you get the music reference I am making, you will get virtual brownie points--which may or may not be translated into real brownie points once everything settles down).

[typical work station.]

[sam and i re-created a work of fine art.]

[repin's ivan the terrible and his son.]

[we went on walks around capitol hill.]

[secret garden house.]

[complete with home-made face mask, courtesy of betsy.]

[sam and i re-created another work of fine art.]

[i indulged my vanity with sunglasses and selfies.]

[sam and i went to a "pick your own produce" place and wore face masks and brought our own knives, so sam looks like a surgeon in the kale.]

[you can't tell, but i'm smiling.]

[BIG shoutout to some friends in my department who sent over a pile of Super Kontik cookies. MADE MY DAY. And subsequent days, because Sam and I are still enjoying them.]

[slightly crazed, but oh-so-happy to have a coconut Super Kontik cookie Tim-Tam Slam style.] 

We feel incredibly blessed that our friends and family members are safe and whole, but we know that it not the case for millions in the world, and we are doing what we can to flatten the curve. I hope that this next week of the pandemic treats us all more kindly than the last week, whatever the state of your last week may have been.