Tag Archives: Joe

Saying goodbye to 715

The Des Moines Register is moving out of its big, flagship building on 715 Locust down the street to Capitol Square. I can understand the need for the move, but I am prone to nostalgia.

Even though I only worked at The Register for about three and a half years, it will always have a huge place in my heart. It was the magnet that drew me to Des Moines in the first place, my first job and it’s where I met Joe*.

It’s not just like the building is significant only to me. It’s where dozens of Presidential hopefuls have come seeking endorsements, where reporters have captured decades of history, where RAGBRAI gets planned and thousands of other things to other people. I imagine our house ancestor, Sec Taylor, walked through the same doors we did.

RegPromo

A page from the 1929 Register and Tribune Promotional Book, featuring Sec! Joe and I are talking about turning our spare bedroom into a mini Sec Taylor museum, after we finish the nursery.

The Register is sharing some of this history in fun, interactive ways, and the massive globe from the front lobby is going to make its way to the State Historical Museum, where our neighbor Leo is the new curator!

http://www.desmoinesregister.com/videonetwork/2280410387001/Des-Moines-Register-Tradition-on-the-Move-The-globe

*Did I ever share the story of how Joe and I met? Maybe not, because I know I come off as a creep.

Registerluv

One of our fun engagement photos

We sort of met at an employee benefits meeting – you know, where they tell you about health insurance plans and whatnot. I still remember that I was wearing a yellow and black polka-dot shirt. I read all of the nameplates of the people who were supposed to be at the meeting, and was amused by the name Joe Jayjack. The letter J is one of my favorites to write. I secretly hoped he’d be a dashing guy about my age – but what were the odds?

Joe used to work late at night designing pages, and he moseyed late into the meeting after having overslept. I was instantly smitten, but Joe has pretty much zero recollection of me. We worked on separate floors, and I would find reasons to walk past his desk for the next few months, and asked Cara’s husband to fill me in on whether or not he was cool, because they sat near each other in the newsroom.

Joe’s more reserved with strangers (although I think that’s definitely changing), so it took awhile for us to connect  me to figure out how to invite him to a party. Turns out, his personality was just as awesome as I’d hoped, based on his black frame glasses, pearl-button shirts and shy smile. I had no idea in that benefits meeting that I’d be semi-introduced to my best friend/lifemate, and I know that story sounds borderline stalkerish of me, but I like to think I just have a trusty radar.

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Breakfast table thoughts

Joe and I try to sit down together for breakfast every morning, a holdover habit from the days he worked nights and we’d have only a few waking hours to see each other. We tend to take turns making breakfast while the other one walks Wilbur, stirring milk and honey into mugs of coffee and whipping up a fried egg on toast, or peanut butter banana honey toast, or a breakfast burrito or oatmeal or a bowl of cold cereal if we’re tight on time.

We sit there and divide up the morning paper, and read each other snippets of interesting things, and always our horoscopes. I don’t truly believe in astrology, but reading them feels like opening up a fortune cookie – a succinct little secret – and I enjoy that.  I’m a Gemini (as our baby will likely be) and Joe is a Libra.

Yesterday, my horoscope said something along the lines of how, when I look out and take stock of everything going on in my life, I will get the sense that “these are the good days.” And I do. It takes my breath away at the strangest moments.

The other night I had this epiphany that we should all just walk around staring in awe at each other and the sheer improbability that we would end up on this planet at overlapping times in the illimitable solar system. Wouldn’t it put this delightful shock into our everyday transactions, that we share so much just by being here on this planet at the same time?

joe

I captured one of our breakfast table moments with the very second Instagram I ever took, sometime last spring, and it makes me smile at how much younger Joe looks without a beard. He shaves it on Opening Day and starts growing it on his birthday, October 2. He turns 30 this year!

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The Homebrewer’s Wife

Let’s subtitle this post: The many perks of being married to a homebrewer. (Remember my post about Guinness and spent grain cinnamon rolls?)

Joe started brewing a couple of years ago, inspired by our brother-in-law, Andy. Aside from one instance when I came home from an adult tap dancing lesson to see smoke billowing from the kitchen, it’s been an excellent adventure that’s turned me into a bit of a beer snob. Homebrewing is a hobby that gradually becomes a way of life.

In went a great retro keg fridge for the garage this past spring. Nothing chases an afternoon of yard work better than a lemon basil beer.

We’ve started to make brewpubs a must-stop element of any trip (even our honeymoon in Austria), and recently talked beers with the brewmaster at Old Man River in McGregor, Iowa over a late lunch at the bar. (The brewery crafts Backpocket beers, which are awesome and extra fun because of the great graphic design on the labels. We learned they’ll be opening a Backpocket Brewery in Iowa City soon!)

And then last night, the guys overdid themselves by developing and cooking a four course beer dinner for me and Ellen and Caroline, who paired everything with juice. (It was a supersweet surprise, complete with the wearing of aprons and a printed out menu.)

They found the framework of the dinner on CraftBeer.com, but came up with the specific beer pairings and tweaked the recipes themselves. (They even went to random meatlocker warehouses in search of lamb! They ended up getting it at Gateway Market, though.) The idea is that we’d sample the different microbrews with dinner, then help select the next beer type they’d try making. And I’d have to stay out of the kitchen all day, reading and going on walks with the dog instead of emptying the dishwasher? SOLD!

Isn't this Cubs apron hilarious? Ellen made it for Joe last Christmas. The guys also made some spent grain bread to go with the meal.

Here’s what they made for us. It was all delicious, and the photos I took with flash couldn’t do it all justice, so I won’t even post most of them.

  • First Course: Linguine Carbonara Paired with a Belgian-style Dark Abbey Ale (they paired it with a New Belgium Abbey Belgian Style Ale)

  • Second Course: Indian-spiced Crab Cakes Paired with an India Pale Ale (paired with Red Hook Long Hammer IPA)
  • Third Course: Roast Rack of Lamb Paired with a Brown Ale or Porter (paired with Rogue Hazelnut Brown Nectar)
  • Fourth Course: Imperial Stout Float (paired with Belles Special Double Cream Stout — topped with some awesome organic spiced chocolate shavings.)

And to think that four years ago today, I wooed Joe by inviting him to my apartment for dinner. I made a bruschetta chicken bake off of the back of a Stove Top Stuffing box and we took the black lab I was dog-sitting for a post-meal walk around the neighborhood! I was so nervous that night and I still remember what I wore. Last night it was great to relax by the fire and laugh and drink with my family. Being married to a homebrewer/guy like Joe has some pretty solid perks, I must say!

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Goodbye, summer!

The end of summer tastes like Iowa pork chops.

It smells like a campfire.

It feels like dew that rains all over your toes.

Its golden hour looks like this:

Cash farm is a green haven for the long Labor Day weekend with Joe’s mom’s big family. Everyone sets up tents and the kitchen overflows with food and there’s music, whiskey, late nights, early morning Mass in town on Sunday and “graveyard” games (which aren’t played in the graveyard).

I used the quiet time to read My Ántonia (which is breathtaking; any lover of the Little House books will feel right at home in this prairie story) and recharge after a busy summer. Things won’t slow down much this fall, I’m afraid, but it’s sweet to have a marker between the seasons like this.

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Good morning, Guinness

The elaborate breakfasts Joe used to spoil me with back when he’d work evenings have dwindled now that we’re on the same earlier morning schedule — the one real drawback of his new job. (I can hardly complain, since it means I don’t eat a microwave quesadilla in the dark by myself for dinner.) But the other night Joe prepared a baked breakfast in advance and I had to share.

He got the recipe for chocolate cinnamon mini-buns with caramel stout glaze from the latest issue of his home brewer magazine, and so we had a Guinness-glazed breakfast.

Basically, you make dough using spent grains (3/4 c) from the brewing process, water (1.5 c), yeast (1t), flour (3 c)and oil (1/3 c).

That makes enough dough for two batches of the rolls, filled with melted butter, cinnamon, sugar and mini chocolate chips. The glaze? A Guinness reduction, of course.

Cheers!

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Springtime accessories

A few things I’m loving this spring:

My new Orla Kiley bag. Perfect for me because it’s big enough to hold a sweater/lunch and still fits in the milk crate I put on the back of my bike for carting things to work. The designer bag helps offset the homeless-looking crate, a nice juxtaposition!

Isn't it springtime festive?

I’m typically not a purse person, but I’ve been coveting an Orla bag for awhile and this one was half price — just in time for a little to-me-from-me retail celebration for the end of the semester.

Our new hydrangea plant and mulch in the back. I think the fact that we mulched our landscaping inches us closer to being real adults and homeowners. Indoor plants make me nervous (I tend to kill them immediately), but I love working on the garden. Most of it is spent obsessively weeding, an activity that I lock into with a weird, futile determination.

Did you know: A hydrangea's blooms change color based on the level of nitrogen in the soil.

I’ve had a fondness for this flower for a long time, especially since I wore a hydrangea-print dress to my junior prom. FLASHBACK!

Part of me feels like this was a classy choice, part of me feels like the floral pattern is too curtainy.

Also from the archives: Me with my favorite babysitting charges (now college women) and the double-sided tape I needed to hold this strapless number up. Awesome!

We picked up our sweet shrubbery at The Woodsmith Store, which is affiliated with August Home Publishing, Joe’s new employer. I made him take a photo next to a display of the titles he’ll be designing. Obviously, he was thrilled:

Go ahead, subscribe! (There are no ads, which is interesting.)

This was our first relaxed weekend as a couple who shares the same work schedule, and Joe and I rocked it. Saturday night when we got home from seeing Lolo Jones and other amazing track athletes compete at the Drake Relays, we both sort of looked sideways at each other and asked: Do we really have a whole other day to hang out? Hopefully, this means lots more fun adventures for the blog.

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The perks of marriage

Frenzied after a stressful pre-vacation day at work and running late for a board meeting, I call Joe (after phoning my mom to yell at her for leaving me a voicemail, because I’m a you-know-what) to warn him I’m in a horrible grouchy mood and won’t see him for a few hours. (Sorry, mom, for not forewarning you of my impending bitchiness via text message.)

An hour and a half later, I walk in the house to this:

To top it off, Joe tells me to go get in my comfiest clothes and pours me a microbrew from O’Fallon:

Warm and fuzzy. I'll blame it on the candle light.

And puts on a genius love mix that melts away any frustration I was feeling when I walked in the door. Sigh.

All this, and tax breaks to boot?!

Tomorrow, I might end up working for a few hours, but I have a hike in balmy weather and a haircut to sweeten the deal. Then, New Orleans bound!

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Alpine Valentine

Joe and I have a tradition of homemade Valentine’s presents, and for our first year as a married couple, he outdid himself. (I, on the other hand, have concocted a rather weak offering this year.) Joe was so excited about what he made, that he gave it to me a few days early.

Remember our honeymoon to Austria? Joe found the map we used on our hike and decopaged it to a big piece of wood. He even used the jigsaw I got him for Christmas to cut the mountain line on the top. It’s huge, but it fits perfectly in the space going up to our bedroom:

Now I’ll think of our Karwendel adventure everytime I climb the stairs. (Which will probably make them feel much less steep, in perspective.)

This isn’t what I got Joe, but yesterday I stopped into “Seed” in the East Village and saw these cool Ivy hearts. They were pretty reasonable ($15-25) and I think much longer lasting than a bouquet of overpriced roses. Sorry this is so blurry. This store is like slipping into a secret garden. Everytime I go in, I think of my cousin Kelley, and my Aunt Carol Ann.

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