Name that blog

Been away too long, but it's spring break here in Fitzville and life is crazy... well, crazier than usual. So I thought I would make this long overdue post about a long overdue subject.

I have never really explained the name of this blog. It would be easy to assume it is just a cutesy play on our name. But people who know me would tell you that I could never be accused of being cutesy. The real reason for the name of this blog is that life in Fitzville, or more accurately, life with Fitz really is a whole 'nother world. I learned this right off the bat in our earliest days together, and it still hasn't changed. I'm glad it hasn't changed, because I couldn't imagine any other life. But it's a life most others who haven't stepped into it could probably not imagine.

In the very beginning of our marriage I used to get the occasional phone call that would go something like this...

Caller: "Hi, Denise! I was just calling about tonight... what can we bring?"

Me: "Uhmm... what?"

Caller: "Tonight.... Fitz said around 7 is good, so we don't want to come empty handed!"

Me: "Uhmmm... what?"

Thankfully, I have become slightly more articulate when answering the phone these days, but the pattern hasn't changed much. Just last Saturday, Fitz and I were talking about how we had the rare free day and night, with no scheduled activities, no plans. I was out running errands a little bit later, and my cell phone rang.lt was the phone call mentioned above... "So, what should we bring tonight?" Later that evening there were probably about 50 people scattered around our house and backyard. The photo above is kids diving into the spur of the moment feast. I will take partial blame for this. I have not only learned to roll with the punches here in Fitzville, I have learned to take off running with it. Once that fist phone call started I was as guilty as he was with mentioning to everyone I ran into that afternoon that there might be a bonfire in our backyard later.

So I don't know why I was so surprised yesterday. We celebrated Fitz's 50th birthday Monday night with a crowd of friends coming to here him perform at a little bar in the city. I left early to go relieve the sitter, and left Fitz with the guys, knowing someone would get him home. Yesterday he calls me from work, and casually mentions that he met a folksinger from Nova Scotia at the end of the night, and she didnt have a place to stay on Tuesday. She was asking for recommendations for local hotels, as she was without a car and waiting for a flight on Wednesday. Of course, he told her we have plenty of room... my wife won't mind!

So we packed up all the kids last night and headed into Cambridge to an open mike, and heard some great music, and we've made a great new friend. I don't even blink when I get these phone calls now. In fact, it was me sitting up until 1am talking about Nova Scotia last night, and planning a future trip on the big Blue Bus. I guess I should laugh at the fact that our kids don't even blink.... "Where are we going Mom?" "Oh.. just to go pick up some lady we've never met... she's staying here tonight." "Okay... can we get in the van now?"

It's Life in Fitzville... I guess our kids have never known any different. And I wouldn't want it any other way.