things don't change.

Here we are on a gorgeous August evening; we're cheating fate because the weather is stunning, and the moon is nearly full, and we're satisfied and nicely buzzy.

We're two days away from our 18th wedding anniversary, and in toasting the occasion with a freakin' amazing bottle of Italian red (complemented by an equally amazing dinner, which I'll get to in a second). We're recalling those late-summer days when we were newly together, when meeting up back in Bloomington for the school year was an exciting prospect.

I remember the early days of our relationship (does he like me? will he call? will he call AGAIN?) and then I remember that we settled into a comfortable togetherness that was easy and effortless early on, as it is now. I've always felt a rush of excitement on seeing him (like running into him "accidentally" when I knew he'd be studying in the Union), and that translates today, 20 years later (plus a few months). I felt that again on Thursday when Wrigley and I watched and cheered as Rob ran a 5K in the neighborhood. I'm still smitten.

The thing that constantly amazes me is that our home life, as uncomplicated and routine-oriented as it is, is so close to what we envisioned during those early days when we talked about our dreams of a life together. And our vacation time is so close to our everyday life, too. What's more, it doesn't feel like we're working particularly hard to achieve it: Our silly little contented life comes naturally. Something tells me that we might be onto something.

So on our 18th anniversary (and on Wrigley's 10th birthday, and Henry's 13th), we're all feeling content and happy. Which is, I suppose, how it should be.

Oh, so about dinner: A recipe from Beaulieu Winery for fennel-spiced steak: A rub of toasted and ground fennel seed, peppercorns and coriander dusted heavily over a steak, which is grilled, sliced and served atop thick slices of summer tomato. The tomatoes came from our garden, and they tasted like the sun that was shining when I picked them today. It's one of our very favorite recipes, perhaps mostly because it's so rare. It just doesn't fly in February.

Happy anniversary, B. I love you more than I can say. But then, I think you have a good godd@&m idea.