Taking the Next Step: Semi-Combining Finances

I vividly remember the first time Mr. W told me that his "future wife" would have to sign a pre-nup. We were on our first trip to Napa together after a year of dating and I'm sure I was fishing around for information to see if there was ever going to be a ring in my future. He said nothing about a ring but made sure to mention that pre-nup.

Fast forward two and a half years, and there we were exchanging vows with no official pre-nup to be found. Instead, we have a verbal agreement that goes something like this, "Don't ever cheat on me or I'll take you for everything you're worth!"

In addition to the absence of any sort of written financial agreement, we newlyweds also chose to forgo setting up a joint account.

This was mostly my decision, as I thought it would be very easy to split all the bills down the middle. And for awhile everything was pretty simple. But the past year and a half has been an interesting real estate ride, and with it has come an increasingly convoluted financial management system (i.e. a wicked Excel spreadsheet that I've taken over and can't ever seem to get balanced quite right).

With multiple mortgages and a slew of utilities bills—and far too many dinners out that have ended up split on two credit cards—we finally decided it was beyond high time to open a joint bank account.

So Friday we went to one of the local banks and consummated our financial relationship.

And it was beautiful.

Afterwards, we drove straight to a tasting room to drink wine.

We don't have our debit cards yet and neither of us has set up an online banking account, so it doesn't totally feel real. But very soon we'll be putting deposits into that puppy and paying shared bills out of it. Just in time for all the big scary expenses that will be coming our way when we start renovating the house next spring.

And speaking of renovation, we are *this* close to getting the gas line installed which means I'll be able to unsheathe this powerful beast from her plastic and bring her in the house where she belongs. And all will be right and properly dried in my world again.

As part of the prep, Mr. W had to do more work on the gas line trench this weekend.

Which meant I got to take on the extremely important job of hanging the Christmas lights. I only know one other woman who hangs her Christmas lights. I feel that I've entered a new class of cool.

I also took the opportunity to do a little Christmas decorating...which mostly amounted to placing shiny balls all around the house. Yep, it was a weekend for balls. Christmas balls, dirt balls, and my wannabe financially independent balls finally getting neatly tucked into Mr. W's purse where they belong.

Citrus Season in So Cal

I remember once when I was a little girl, my Grandma Hetherington told me that when she was young, she would get something like a book and an orange for Christmas. An orange for Christmas? I couldn't believe my ears. I was shocked that something so invaluable and plentiful—that actually grew on trees—could be considered a gift. Now I wonder if we'd all be better off with small tokens like that instead of the extravagant things we all seem to want and need...

I was thinking about this story when I set off into the front yard yesterday with my fruit picker. If you're not familiar with this tool, it's a long pole with a sort of clawed basket attached to one end. As you can see from the picture above, our trees are ridiculously weighted with oranges right now. And although my picker and I spent a good thirty minutes defruiting, we barely made a dent. I did get hit in the head a couple of times by oranges that bounced out of the basket—I'm sure I was an entertaining sight for any neighbors watching.

Here's what I ended up with after my mini harvest attempt:

 

I didn't count my fruity booty, but I bet there are somewhere between 60-80 oranges there. And the tree looks exactly the same as when I started. I think its power is so great, everything in the front yard it turning orange with envy.

 

By far, my favorite pick from the day was this little mangler that looked like a deflated orange balloon. Or... well, we'll leave it at the balloon comparison...

While I was playing farmer, Mr. W was doing his own work with some citrus, making baklava (which requires just a hint of lemon). The kitchen smelled awfully yummy when I came back inside.

And now we get to look forward to having a little bit of this with Christmas dessert tomorrow night:

One of the many upsides of marrying a half Greek boy! And there's something so much more meaningful about a present like this than a new iPad or cashmere sweater. Grandma Hetherington was onto something...

Happy Holidays, blog readers! Wishing you lots of love and laughter and adventure from now into the New Year!

Sorry Christmas, You've Been Downsized

I am so behind.

Behind on blogging (I cannot believe it has been almost 13 days since my last confession). Behind on reading my favorite blogs (Hi Nilsa, Sizzle, Mandy, Meg, GH, Lesley, Jeff, Janice, Brett, Chantel, Christine, Autumn, Susie, and anyone else who has posted in the last 3 weeks or so). Behind on my coaching homework and all the big planning and scheming I need to do to start moving the direction I want to go next year.

Even with Mr. W working on a film in Vancouver, I cannot seem to find enough time to get caught up.

Between work projects, house projects, edits to the work projects, fixes to the house projects, holiday shopping and a handful of social obligations, my free time supply is registering a big fat zero.

And that is why I decided to downsize Christmas this year.

I asked Mr. W weeks ago if we could skip exchanging gifts. He poo-pooed the idea. So instead, I took the easy way out with my siblings and siblings-in-law and decided to give them each a weekend at the Santa Ynez house, rather than buy tangible presents. And then I did a large portion of my other shopping from the comfort of my couch.

Also, for the first time in my adult life, I don't have a full-sized Christmas tree. The thought of getting the tree and decorating it felt overwhelming to me. So Mr. W and I went Charlie Brown-style, and picked up a potted, pint-sized fir instead. I kind of like it. And we can plant it in our new back yard after the holidays are over. But it's still a teeny bit sad to look in the corner and not see a 5 - 6 footer twinkling against the Hollywood skyline. In addition to the many balls and baubles that didn't make their way onto the tree, I also left a lot of other seasonal decor in the box this year. I'll call it the bah humbox.

Sadly, I don't want to be a Scrooge. I really want to enjoy the holiday. This is my favorite time of year and it bums me out that so many other things are demanding my attention right now.

Here's to hoping life calms down in 2013. That is, if we all make it past the end of the Mayan calendar next week...