New Wife Smell

The new husband keeps attesting that I have that "new wife smell."  Which is a charming comment, but after nearly a week of post-wedding recovery which has involved mostly uninterrupted couch time spent streaming multiple televisions series in their entirety from Netflix... I'm forced to wonder whether or not the new-wife-smell is a pleasant one...

Regardless, a new wife is exactly what I am, which feels like it should mark some sort of magical transition from a semi-intoxicated twenty-something playing house to a demure, poised, meticulous Mistress of the Home.

The house is undoubtedly stunning.  The setting is undoubtedly suburban, but my skills? Weeeellllll those might leave something to be desired.

It's ok though.  The last ten years have seen me flitting about in multiple roles, New England Co-ed, Brooklyn indie-rock queen, coach, Seattle-ite, Board Member, Vice President... even a return to my inherently horsey roots with a few wayward purchases of some horses again...

All wonderfully entertaining roles, but none are particularly helpful for honing those ever elusive housewife skills.

One of my dearest friends recently found herself relocated stranded in small town Kansas.. which made me realize I was somewhat wistful for and maybe even even jealous of her racks of lamb (complete with homemade breadcrumbs... I didn't know anyone made homemade breadcrumbs...), fresh pies, and seasonally appropriate decor.  All things that I've never even made a bold faced attempt at. 

That's why, when The Boy and I made our mostly voluntary pilgrimage to the suburbs, I vowed to make every attempt to extend my hostess and homemaking skills beyond an impeccably prepared cheese plate (one thing I actually have down) and a 4 month supply of ramen. 

This is my attempt to chronicle my progress, failures and general frustrations in the home. 

I think I made a good bride... here's hoping my luck continues..