The Grinch (at the end of the story)

Today, I LOVE my husband.  Don't get me wrong, I always love him, but there are a couple times a year when I can understand exactly how the Grinch feels at the end of the story.  My heart grows three times larger, every inch of it, dedicated to him.

Take note babe...

My heart smiles when we are on a trail, somewhere in a forest pushing pedals on our mountain bikes.  My heart swells when we are at our Alma Mater, cheering for our bobcats, leaving us hoarse for weeks to come.  My heart explodes when we stop at the convenient store to get a tag, allowing us to hike to the area where we had our honeymoon and pick out the perfect Christmas tree.

We fall in love with an evergreen from yards away.  We get close and realize it's not quite what we had expected.  We see another and blaze a trail to the the next option.  We debate the tree from every angle. We  hold hands.  We laugh.  We love.  We finally decide that imperfections or not, we are just excited to get a tree.

This year, we were victorious!

And of course, this gentleman does the heavy lifting.

Our house feels very cozy in the glow of the holiday season.

Now, if only I knew what to put under the tree to make him feel as loved as I do today.