Sunday, December 02, 2012

Winterbourne vs. Summerbourne

Several years ago, the Mister and I realized that we needed to work on reconnecting throughout the week.

All because at some point, unbeknowst to us, our toddlers grew into kids and developed lives and schedules of their own.  It snuck up on us, but it was undeniable:  we reached a point where our 24/7's were taken up by jobs and kids and schoolwork and housework and carpooling and email and pets and grocery store runs for one item and individual hobbies and bedtime routines where at least one of us fell asleep with the kids due to sheer exhaustion.

We realized that we needed some "us" time and some "thing" that was ours alone to share (beyond the obvious.  Sheesh.)

Our list of "Our Thing" qualifications:  it had to be free-ish, it had to be something we could do at home, and it had to mutually agreed upon (I'm neither going to take up UFC watching, nor is the Mister gonna pick up knitting needles.)

Enter the Trashy Cable Series, which we could watch in succession at our leisure.   In our home.  At little expense.  That we both enjoyed.  With no kids (who are tucked in bed.)


We've been doing this for 2 years now, and it's been a great thing.  We've run through Breaking Bad, some of The Sopranos, True Blood,  The Walking Dead, and now we're through Season 2 of Justified (and for the love of God, will one of you girls please watch this show so we can gush about Timothy Olyphant together?  Because gushing about him to the Mister just isn't working for me!)

It's been a great time for us.

Granted, we've had our Hits and Misses with this endeavor.

Like the time when we were drinking wine while watching The Walking Dead, and we were like, "Hey! Let's play a game like Strip Poker, but instead we strip an article of clothing each time a zombie gets killed!"

Sure, it's all fun and games until you find yourself completely naked about 4 minutes into the show because there's that much zombie killing.

And then you realize there's 41 minutes of show left to watch.  I don't know about you, but watching all that zombie killing while naked just didn't do it for me.  Go figure.

One series that has been a total "Hit" for us has been The Game of Thrones.

We didn't start off with the tv show as our introduction to this series.  A while back, the Mister and I started reading George R. R. Martin's novel The Game of Thrones, which is the first book in his Fire and Ice Series.

Which, Holy Hell, this book series is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.  Abso-freaking-lutely Epic.

A funny side story:  We had checked out one copy from the library, which we shared and co-read.

How does sharing and co-reading work as a married couple?  Like this:

The Mister's Turn:  Reads at the kitchen table while eating a meal (multi-tasking) with his wife pacing behind him saying, "Are you done yet? Can you read any faster?  Don't tell me what happens?  Does so-and-so die? No, don't tell me?  Can't you hurry up?  Your dinner can wait you know!"

My Turn:  Takes the book, runs a bubble bath, locks the door and leaves the children and the dishes for the Mister.

Seriously, why the Mister puts up with me, I don't know.  I'm horrible!  (But I suspect it has something to do with my willingness to play Strip Zombie Killing after a glass of cheap wine on a Tuesday evening.)

Anyway, side story aside, after we finished Book 1, we decided to watch The Game of Thrones cable tv series.

Seeing the characters come to life has been awesome, and now has given us a whole new "us" thing to share.

 *** Side Note:  I think every couple should have fun "us" things to share with one another to make everyday life more enjoyable.  One example I've blogged about before is the important role Chuck Norris plays in our marriage. 

Lots of side notes in this post.  I have a wandering sort of mine, today. ***

If you are unfamiliar with the Game of Thrones, it is an epic tale of a land in (maybe) medieval times.  Martin deftly and beautifully weaves a tale of three principal families and the land that they live in.

Of the three principal families, one is of the North (the Starks) one of the South (the Lannisters/Baratheons) and one is near-extinction, outcast to an outside land (the Tagaryens).  That's the simplest way I can put it.

I love the the northern family, The Starks.  Their family motto is:  Winter is Coming.  They are a strong, honorable, noble, hard-working and rugged.

The more Southerly family, the Lannisters and the Baratheons, well, they are more refined.  Beautiful, devious and dastardly, the men are a bit on the . . . I guess if there were such a thing as a metrosexual male at this point in time, that's what they would be.    They value possession, cunning, luxury and power. 

Within my own marriage, I am the Stark (northerner.)    I was born on January 25th in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  The average temperatures on January 25th in this part of the world are a high of 24 degrees F, and a low of 9 degrees F, wind chill not applied.

Hence, I am Winterbourne.  I made up that title and gave it to myself.  Fancy, huh?

Now, if I, the northerner, is Winterbourne, you can imagine what the Mister is.

For background, my Mister was born on January 8th in Tamuning, Guam, where on such a day, the average high temperature is 85 degrees and the average low temperature is 75 degrees, and where there is no such thing as a wind chill.

Hence, he is Summerbourne.

We now have this huge running joke whenever the subject of cold weather or general heartiness applies:  the Mister will tease me that I'm a Stark.  Although I don't really take it as an insult, because to me, the Starks are all pretty bad-ass.

For instance, every morning, regardless of the weather, I take the dogs for a walk.  Earlier this week, it was quite cold around the 20 degree mark, and the Mister, on his way to work, pulled over, unrolled his window and announced loudly:  "Good Lord, it's snowing out.  You Stark Women are batty!"

(Really, he means:  You are a bad-ass northern woman! Whoohooo!  I wish I could be as tough and awesome as you!   He just might not know that's what he means, but I can decipher the code.)

Whenever he acts, well, not Winterbourne, I tease him that he is Renley Baratheon, who is a bit of a dandy.

An example:

The Mister:  I really wish sock suspenders would make a comeback.  Now that's style!
Me:   Whatever, Renly!

For the record, I'm not joking.  The Mister has declared this, and often, throughout our marriage. 

Yet, alas, the poor unfortunate soul known as the Mister somehow got trapped in a cruel twist of fate, and married a Winterbourne maiden.

He held out hope against hope that his children, who so clearly were born of his Summerbourne looks, would also be the bearers of  some Summerbourne tendencies.

But look at that Mini-Mister!
Is it a photo from Cliff's childhood,
 or is it Atticus?  
Hint:  If the person in the photo is having fun in the snow, 
it's Atticus!

Winterbournes let their babies play in the snow,
to the shock and disdain of Summerbournes.

He further held out hope that his sons born of Haiti, a Summerland, would be Summerbourne in character.  Yet fate dealt another blow.

Winterbournes at heart.

A man as refined as the Mister could trust that a petite, dainty canine creature like a papillon named Trixie d'Belle would surely be a Summerbourne dog?

Fierce and Winterbourne. 
A direwolf in disguise, I do believe.

Poor, poor Mister.  It looks like he and his friend Colonel Sanders are the only Summerbourne people around up here in our neck of the Great North Woods.

Yet one would think that if he can't beat them, he could join them?  Certainly a solid dozen years in the Frozen Tundra turn this warm Summer spirit into a hearty Northern Soul.

  One would think. . .

 Summerbourne to the core.  
Perhaps another dozen years will see progress. . . 

PS to the Mister:  Renley would like to know
where you got your dashing sweater and matching cap.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Cable series have been great. They help us southernbourne survive the dreary filibuster of cold inhumane days commonly called winter.

Now, I can explain that orange prep looking picture. Photoshop!

I do love my stark woman, stark in name, stark in clothing while watching zombies!

-Mr. Jim J Bullock/ Brawny Man love child
Lannisters always pay their debts! -Tyrion Lannister