Here’s to You, Mrs. Poindexter

Well, that’s it, then. My engagement to Wanda is over.

I did. She did. It’s official.

In a fit of spontaneity, Wanda and I decided to perform an incremental upgrade on our relationship yesterday. It was an extremely small ceremony that included Wanda and me, and Spencer Causy, a guy I’ve played chess with in the park a few times. He had mentioned once that he was an ordained minister of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, to I called him up and had him come over to officiate. I’m sure it’s all perfectly legitimate, even if he insisted on wearing a colander on his head. Wanda and I are now Mr. and Mrs. Poindexter.

While there was quite a bit of discussion whether my place or hers would be our matrimonial home, we finally decided to move her into my place. There may not be much here yet, but I think Wanda sees the potential in it, and even better, she has faith in me to make something of it. Besides, she says, the plants here are far more interesting than the weeds outside her little apartment in Windenburg.

Wanda doing her botanist thing

I couldn’t be happier. Wanda, of course, is wonderful, and I’m looking forward to everything our new partnership might bring. It’s paying off already. As a prime example, Wanda has generously offered to take care of most of the cooking duties, both because she’s a much better cook than I am, and because she doesn’t want one or both of us to die in a fire.

She makes stuff you can actually eat

After our modest wedding ceremony, the two of us did a little exploring. I showed her all the important spots on the island — like where the best views are, where all the neighbors live, and which bushes might still have piles of Edison crap under them — and we ended our day at The Bluffs. It’s a secluded little area very close to my camp where there used to be a house, but all that’s left now is some ruins and an old swimming pool that’s been taken over by moss.

I’d never been brave enough to jump in, but Wanda took a look at the moss, tasted the water, and declared it safe for swimming. It was all very scientific.

If I’m carrying a parasite, I got it here.

From there it was back home for a light supper of fish tacos back at the homestead. Cooked by Wanda, of course. If I had cooked them I would have described them as charcoal tacos, assuming I survived the cooking process.

Wedding Tacos

The tacos were wonderful. Wanda is wonderful. Life in general is wonderful. I knew that moving out here to the outskirts of Windenburg was going to mean some big changes in my life, but I wasn’t expecting anything this big, or this good. I am a lucky, lucky little nerd.

Incidentally, one other thing of note happened yesterday, right at the end of the day. It was our wedding night; I don’t think I need to spell it out.

Woohoo!