Ripe.

The other night, Jeffery and I were eating strawberries for dessert. They were the first of the year, and really sour and crunchy. After choking down four or five unripe berries, I bit into a sweet one, so I turned to Jeff, who turned to me, and at the same time we both said, "this one's good," and offered the rest of our ripe strawberry to the other. It was one of those rare perfect moments that reassures a girl she's found the one. I think we're going to try to grow strawberries at our next place.

The roses Marina brought us get more and more beautiful every day. The vase they're in is a hexagonal sided jar with a round lip I found at Goodwill. It's aqua-colored glass, and the main thing I'm collecting for the wedding. I dreamed about thrifting last night. I think I'm going through withdrawals. Fortunately, there's a flee market happening on Treasure Island Memorial Day Weekend, which I plan on attending full force.