Tuscany

If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm about to have an American moment. 

Rome kept me historically-literate and well-fed, but still didn't quite match the postcard-expectation of what I had expected Italy to look like. Where were the vast rolling hills dotted with lofty cypresses? The charming elderly townswomen carrying trays of  baked goods down winding cobblestone streets? The stately Italian mansions boasting boundless real estate and generations of good taste in art? (It's maddening, the influence American travel companies have had on my poor, sheltered passport)

But Conde Nast and Travel + Leisure are on to something. Enchanting images of Tuscany emblazened on travel brochures and plastered across Olive Garden dining room walls do exist, and are every bit as stunning as those pictures suggest.

I had to roam around a bit, but once I left the train station in Florence I was met with those proverbial hills sprawling with cypress trees. I crossed Ponte Vecchio and navigated through winding cobblestone streets lined with quaint, local shoppes and eateries. I popped into a bakery for a fresh roll, and asked a gentle, elderly Italian woman for recommendations on which of her sweets to try. After ambling through a maze of cobblestone, I reached an immense stately home - the Palazzo Pitti - and envied the prime real estate and hefty art collection (though not their family drama). 

After a long day of sightseeing and exploring I made my way back to my hotel, which happened to be a 30-second walk from the Duomo. But don't be jealous, this was no Prince Regis. I paid 20 euros a night for this place and prayed that I wouldn't get mugged upon check-out. 

On my last night in Florence, I desperately wanted some homemade pasta. Not from a package - even 'made in Italy' didn't cut it - I wanted it hecho en casa style. Out of pure luck I stumbled upon NAME, and it had to be one of the best meals I have ever had. The chef was incredibly friendly, and seemed amused that I was so determined to have an 'authentic' dinner. He called me over a few times, to prove to me that my dinner would be fresh but also to give me a little cooking demonstration. So...I officially know how to make pear and gorgonzola tortellini in a snazzy restaurant. Oh my skillz...

Felt Book

I finally finished Maya's felt book! I hadn't realized at the time that there were 26 letters in the alphabet and much fewer guests at the shower, and so I finally filled in the blank pages and stitched it all together. But...ta-da! I like it, and Brady even wants one for our little Lillian...er...Phillipa...um...Audrie? Yes, fortunately we have a bit of time to agree on a name :)

Autumn Breeze

Today was the first real day of a Tennessee Fall to me (so christened because I had to wear a jacket during the first 10 minutes of my morning run). This time one year ago I was still trying (and erring) in my new role as a wife. I was introducing Brady to the many uses of tofu, while he was introducing me to the even more abundant world of Army acronyms. The year prior I was stepping back onto BYU campus as an newly engaged Cougar. I had new (amazing!) roommates, a renewed love for Art History, and most notably, a new piece of jewelry on my left ring finger. And before that? I had just begun training fresh-from-the-MTC Lindsay Borrows, who has turned out to be one of my dearest friends.

All three seasons were periods whose transitional natures matched the physical changes occurring outside in nature. Each had its brisk, sharp pangs of coldness - those regrettable arguments, the research assistantships that failed to materialize, and the farewell to my previous missionary companion of 8 months, Dee Schwenke. But as irresistible as that breeze was on my panting face this morning, those last three Autumn seasons were filled with fresh and promising change as well. Lindsay taught me the true meaning of loyalty in a friendship; thanks to Skype and Google Reviews, Brady and I planned the wedding of our dreams; and, most importantly, I have felt more of how the Savior loves me from the pure love of my husband.

This Fall is no different.  While Brady is deployed, I will be studying for my master's in London. The reality of that amount of time and distance has been setting in, as I've opted for the snooze button more often lately before folding back into Brady's drowsy arms. There are incredible advantages along this path, namely leadership experience for Brady, the ideal master's program for me, and the rest of soul that always comes from having the courage to follow peace. And for now, we have decided to focus on the bright side of things. Because as we know, the future is as bright as our faith :) So let's take a moment and recap the past few precious months we've had together, as we look forward to a beautiful year of change and development:

Brady's 28th Birthday at the D.C. Temple

Yummy Anniversary Dinner

Chillin with the Obamas...from a distance :)

Roman Holiday, NYC Style

Date Night at the MAQ

Art Deco at the Frist

...perhaps we have too much fun at weddings :)

Strawberry Fields...

...Forever :)

Um...so does anyone else have issues with not being able to enlarge all uploaded photos on Blogger? If anyone has any solutions, your suggestions would be most appreciated :)

Mom's Visit

The last time my mom and I had a sleepover together, I had a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call before excitingly heading down to my bridal hair appointment. I remember being far too preoccupied with the following day’s events to participate in any sort of significant conversation, but much too familiar with her maternal disposition to deprive her of vital pre-wedding mother-daughter rituals. I treated her to a private viewing of my wedding gown. She excitedly sounded out my impending full married name. We sampled the chocolates the hotel staff placed beside our pillows. And while we will probably never stay in a luxury hotel together again anytime soon, it made a priceless snapshot for our relationship. The inflatable Coleman mattress doubtlessly didn't sleep as comfortably as the Waldorf's Egyptian cotton bedding, I think that my mother enjoyed her first stay in Tennessee.

Stroll on the Greenway

Following a leisurely stroll on the Greenway, we checked out the Amish whole foods store (among the many perks of living near the Kentucky border). We had heard that the Amish are famous for their cheese, and so we purchased a block of swiss and paired it with some Rosemary Triscuits later on that evening for hor d'oeuvres.

After a slumber party of pedicures, popcorn, and The Wizard of Oz (...oh my? :) ) we arose the next morning ready for a fun-filled day of a stroll at Cheekwood Botanical Gardens, picnic lunch at the Parthenon, and shopping at Opry Mills Outlet.



Graduation

Tossing my cap!

I should have known that Brady would be right. That donning the customary cap and gown, striding across the stage in barely broken-in heels, and squirming about - all too anxious to share my BYU blue diploma cover with the family - in my collapsable chair in the Marriott Center would all be worth the Expedia reservation. As Department Head George Handley took my hand, smiling, welcoming me onto the stage, I no longer felt like a liminal figure, a member of academic purgatory, if you will, simply awaiting the good natures of administration and advisement to approve my application to graduate. No, Dr. Handley - along with the other thirty or so decorated faculty members seated on stage - welcomed me into scholastic accomplishment. I was no longer a stranger or foreigner, but fellowcitizen with the lovers of wisdom, and of the household of knowledge.

Heading to the join the processional

Ringing the Y Bell

Enjoying the moment

Following Elder L. Tom Perry's terrific commencement address, Brady and I - along with his mother and grandmother, and my brother - headed over to the Hinckley Center for the alumni dinner and dance. Brady and I weren't really planning on taking center stage, but then the DJ turned on "A Thousand Years" - yes, the Breaking Dawn track, don't judge us - and I couldn't resist accepting his offer to be wrapped in his arms for a few moments.

At the end of the song, Gangham Style exploded onto the dance floor. And, shamelessly, so did we :) 

We passed on the layer cake to dance, but felt it would be inconceivable to end the evening without dessert. Some moments are so special they don't need ice cream. Other times, you realize you are a three-minute drive from the BYU Creamery.

  

The following day was convocation, where I had the opportunity to receive my diploma!

President's reception (Left to right: Sarah (Nick's girlfriend), Nick, Sister Samuelson, President Samuelson, Me, Brady, Lori, Kay)

Celebratory lunch at Kneaders!

Outside the MOA

Salt Lake City Temple

And...so I might be an entire foot shy of the Duchess of Cambridge (besides just lacking her elegance and poise) but I can't help but adore her sense of style. And while Whistles and Alexander McQueen just aren't going to make the budget this month - or this life - I still tried to take a little royal inspiration for commencement and convocation:

I think that she stands with her shoulders more upright, less hunched. Sigh. I need some princess posture practice :)

Dear Army...

I hope that you've enjoyed training my husband these past five days. I expect that he has enjoyed it as well. That's great and all, but I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind...promptly returning him. I have found that I am missing someone who can...

kiss me good morning

write me love notes before going to work

tell me that I look beautiful

work in the temple on Saturdays with me

laugh at my jokes

give me wise advice

hold me really close when I cry

go on sunset walks with me in the park

ask intently about my day

always notice my haircuts and pedicures

send me cute texts throughout the day

thank me for making "excellent" PB&Js

insist on taking out the garbage, because that's a "man's job"

read the scriptures with me

compliment my cooking, even when dinner is burned

map out our future with me

encourage me to be a better woman

pray with me, and for me

snuggle with me on the couch

hold my hand in church

and always, always, kiss me good night?

I am certain that I will not find a more perfect husband, not in the next five weeks, and not in the eternities.

But because you are training him to do good things, and because I know that these exercises make him a better soldier, I suppose that I will let you keep him for the previously-allotted time.

But just in case you change your mind, I will keep a box of Honey Bunches of Oats waiting for him in the pantry.

You can tell him that I really like carnations this time of year :)