Wedding Registry and Gifts

Hannah and Tim - One Love, One Lifetime - June 20th, 2012

We plan on moving to Boston in a few months, and we'd rather not have to take a whole registry's worth of items with us. Instead, we would love gift cards so we can buy what we need once we arrive. We would love anything, from a shopping trip to furnish our new home to fun stuff like a night at the movies.

Homemade and/or special gifts are still greatly appreciated and welcome.

Cards and gifts may be mailed to:

Tim Laurio and Hannah Hoyt
2100 Bluebonnet Lane
Matthews, NC, 28104

Another way you could bless us would be to help us raise money for the deposit on an apartment in Boston. Living expenses are high, and even the cheapest apartments can cost $2000 to $3000 up front. If you would like to contribute, you can follow the button below to a secure PayPal donation form.

So, all that said, in lieu of a gift registry, here is a list of gift card ideas.

DEPARTMENT STORES
Target
IKEA
Kohl's
TJ Maxx

SPECIALTY STORES
Best Buy
Bed, Bath, and Beyond
Office Max
Trader Joe's

JUST FOR FUN
AMC Movies
Guitar Center
Barnes and Noble
Carrabba's
Pizza Hut
Pinkberry
Starbucks

Hello again!

Just a note to say that this is still my blog, and I'm still planning to use it. What have I been doing? Let's see--I spent a semester studying at Oxford last fall! And I graduated college a few weeks ago! Yep, I am officially B.A. now--and not the profane kind, either ;). Now that I don't have school, my blog may see more activity. But a few other things have to happen before then. In two weeks Hannah and I are premiering our very own film adaptation of Northanger Abbey. And we're getting married on Midsummer's Day next month!!! It's going to be a summer to remember!

Three Bards

A great bard arose in the far end of time.
Moses was his name; he sang of God
and the works of God: of Earth-making
and life-giving, of good Creator
and good creation, froward creation
and patient God.

A great bard arose in the midway of time.
Shakespeare his name; he sang of humanity,
good and evil: of noble deeds
and basest treason, joyous fortune
and grievous fate, the rising and falling
of human life.

A great bard arose in the near end of time.
Whitman was his name; whatever he sang
and whenever he wrote, all his song was of
himself.

The Reluctant Poet

And yet, try as you might,
you cannot escape the fact
that words must be used--

ideas expressed,
beauties acknowledged,
praises sung.

And no matter how much, Moses,
you plead weakness with words,
still, someone must sing,

and even in the face of
years of wadded paper
the question remains

why not you?

Words to think with

The semester has dwindled to a sliver of its former self, the way an ice cube shrinks when you pour water over it in the sink, and I am just watching and waiting now for the last few weeks to melt away. And I'm studying, of course. And rehearsing. And writing papers. And memorizing lines. And planning summer projects. And summer trips. And summer work. And next semester's classes. And vacillating, all the while, between bleary-eyed complaints about the workload and moments of utter wonder that I am allowed to eat and drink and breathe history, literature, philosophy, music; that I have lived through the hardest winter in living memory to see a spring which is the loveliest in history, as every spring is; that I love and am loved by a woman who is fair and seemly and wise beyond my highest hopes; that I continue to wake up every morning to find that someone else has been up before me scrubbing the sky and pulling up the sun and pouring dew on the grass—in short, that I keep on living in God's good earth under God's bright heaven. This must be the way a sprout feels when it wakes up from hibernation in its seedpod to find itself planted in rich soil with clean air swirling around it and the sun beaming down overhead.

Meanwhile, time slips away from me and it's early morning and I should try going to bed. I oughtn't to be blogging at all, except that I was studying late and broke policy and bought a coke and now I'm awake on caffeine. I'll rue it tomorrow.

I heard a lecture this morning about modern women who are writing—Annie Dillard and Toni Morrison and people like that. It was a good lecture from start to finish, but this simple quote stood out to me. It comes from Toni Morrison, whom I've not read. It returns to the question of ownership, which I've pondered before, but Morrison makes it more personal that Steinbeck did:

Freeing yourself was one thing; claiming ownership of that freed self was another.

Words to think with, words to live by...