Cottonwood trees, and our third anniversary

I think I'm allergic to cottonwood trees.

They're a new phenomenon to me--there aren't any on the East Coast and there certainly weren't any in San Diego. When they bloom (which is now), they send out piles of cottonwood fluff; like dandelion fluff, only smaller, featherier, and more pernicious. It creates snow drift-looking embankments, and can't be swept up. It's like exploding a feather pillow all over the countryside. And apparently I'm allergic to it, because now I have a deep hacking cough that won't go away that can't be attributed to anything else.

But, on the plus side, we had an awesome anniversary dinner at my work the other night. It's been three years! Four states in three years of marriage: wonder how many we'll rack up this year?

I traded a co-worker for the night off and brought in two bottles of very nice wine--nearly the very last of all the wine we hauled cross-country with us. We had an amazing dinner, like regular people. Then I worked a double the next day. Good times.

Last night, a rich hedge fund guy came in for dinner and brought five bottles of very old, very rare Burgundy to drink with friends. When they finally left, they left about a quarter of each bottle behind. The wine director estimated that those five bottles were probably worth about $15,000; so, given the amount left behind, and the amount of each that I drank, I probably consumed somewhere between $700 and $1000 worth of rare wine last night. It made up for having to work a double on my anniversary.

Also, today marks one year of hubby's unemployment. We're doing surprisingly well, considering. I'm starting to pay off some (small) debts, and hubby has some job prospects on the horizon.