Ringing in 25
by Anton Zuiker on August 15, 2021
When I was ready to ask Erin to marry me, soon after I returned to Cleveland from my time in Hawaii and she had graduated from John Carroll University, I went in search of a ring. Problem was, I had hardly any money and there was no way I could give her a flashy diamond-and-gold ring. But mine wasn’t the big-rock style anyway, so I went to a craft fair at one of the private schools on Cleveland’s east side, and I stopped at the table of a jewelry artisan who’d made a delicate ring with a speck of a diamond. I paid a few hundred dollars and was ready to propose: on a drive south to Hilton Head to meet up with her family, Erin and I pitched a tent for a few hours of sleep in a campground in Virginia. In the morning, I asked Erin to spread a white sheet over the picnic table so we could eat our bagels and yogurt. On the sheet, in my crude handwriting: “Erin, will you marry me?”—the ring tied with a ribbon in place of the dot in the question mark.
She said yes, and every day since then (actually, since the very first day I met her in 1991), my existence has been better because of Erin. Because of her, our life together has been rich and rewarding and full of love and adventure. Even the table coverings are better.
Erin and I celebrated 25 years of marriage this past week, with dinner at Hawthorne and Wood and an overnight in the Siena Hotel in Chapel Hill (a momentary illusion of Tuscany, but some day we’ll go for real). In a way, we’ve been celebrating for months; earlier this year, she suggested we needed to update our wedding rings. She found a stunning yellow diamond set in a white gold band and a matching band with a row of smaller diamonds. At the same shop, I picked out a thicker white-gold band to replace my thin yellow-gold band. We love our rings. We love each other.
I do miss my old ring. I often slipped it off my finger and looked to the inside of the band, where this was inscribed: ‘As you wish. 8-10-96.’ But now I twirl the new ring around my finger and I think, twenty-five and counting.
Erin, I love you. Thank you for wearing that simple ring, and holding my hand, and making a life with me for a quarter century.
A remarkable end to vacation
by Anton Zuiker on July 20, 2021
The family vacation on St. Croix came to a close yesterday, the afternoon flight giving time in the morning for me drive into Frederiksted to conduct an interview at Polly’s at the Pier (I’m working on an alumni profile for Duke Magazine). Then I returned for a last 30 minutes to string up my hammock under the sea grape trees at Sprat Hall Beach. It is my favorite place, and I savored the moment.
We packed up the car, shuttled the family and my father to Rainbow Beach, ate lunch (mahi tacos with the spicy aioli), shuttled dad back to the house, and then headed to the airport.
We were early and quick through TSA, so sat in the steamy STX concourse-under-construction calmly reading our books even when the flight was delayed so technicians could apply supertape to a running light damaged by a bird strike on the incoming flight, but eventually we were away from an amazing week on island. We landed in Charlotte late at night, and still had a two-hour drive home to Chapel Hill.
I was driving and couldn’t find any music I could enjoy and that would keep me awake and let the others sleep. Then I remembered that Dave Winer had posted a link to Guy Kawasaki’s Remarkable People podcast and the episode featuring his conversation with Dave. I drove on, wide awake as I listened to Dave and Guy. Even though I’ve been following him for 20 years, I learned yet more detail about Dave’s development of outlining, blogging, RSS, and podcasting.
When the episode was finished, Erin — who I thought had been sleeping — spoke up: “That was interesting.” We talked softly about Facebook and my American Tobacco Trail and NYC biking adventures with Dave for the last 10 miles until we were home. Quickly everyone fell into their beds. I closed my eyes, observed how the dead silence inside our solid brick house was so different than the last week’s sleeping with the constant sounds of St. Croix — chirping tree frogs and barking dogs through the night and doves and roosters at dawn — coming through the louvered windows, and I fell asleep, the motion memory of that hammock near the Caribbean Sea gently putting me to sleep.
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See my Wan Smol Blog for photos and short posts from the vacation. A longer post to come here in Zuiker Chronicles in the next day or two.
Hawk's Landing update
by Anton Zuiker on July 5, 2021
In March, I introduced Hawk’s Landing, the name for the nine acres of land that we were listing on the commercial market. Now, a few months later, we haven’t found anyone to partner in the limited way we hoped (just a few houses up in these beautiful woods), so we’ve let the listing expire. Instead, we are pursuing a single buyer for our current house, and we’re proceeding with plans to build a new house — designed by our architect friend Kevin Anderson — for our family in the back corner. Stay tuned.
A world view
by Anton Zuiker on July 5, 2021
The Spring 2021 issue of WorldView, the magazine of the National Peace Corps Association, arrived a few weeks back, and I was delighted to see that David and Champa Jarmul had contributed essays about their service in Moldova. David and Champa fell in love when David was a PCV in Nepal in the 70s, and when David retired from Duke University, they joined the Peace Corps again. David has written much more about their experience at his blog, Not Exactly Retired
In that issue of WorldView, I came across two other personal connections.
Richard Celeste contributed to a collection by former Peace Corps directors on what they’d recommend to President Biden. “Double it!” Celeste begins his piece. (I agree.) Celeste had already finished his stint as Peace Corps director, and then as governor of Ohio, when Erin and I had dinner with him on the eve of his ambassadorship to India and our service in Vanuatu. I blogged about that here.
And on page 45 of the magazine there’s a photo from Paama showing a line of women in their island dresses, sitting on the grass as they weave palm fronds into the baskets they use to carry yams and taro from the garden to market. One of the women is Celia, Noel’s sister, and since Noel considered me his brother, she’s family.
Three years ago, Erin and I and the children were in Vanuatu visiting with Leah and Celia. That return to Paama was a fantastic trip, and it reflects the beauty of not just the Ni-Vanuatu but also the brilliance of the U.S. Peace Corps.
Fireflies and a fox
by Anton Zuiker on June 21, 2021
After work today, I set out for a run, and I was glad to explore another set of trails in the woods nearby, these leading south and east to Southern Village. I followed a couple of loops, saw an owl glide by, felt like I was lost, slid down a steep hill, but eventually got to where I started and back home. I felt great.
Later, a lot of activity in the house as various children (cousins are staying with us for a couple of nights) cleaned up after a day at camp, and then our old-house pipes were temporarily clogged. I needed to pee, so I stepped out into the woods and looked around to see the shimmering of fireflies flitting throughout the broad oak trees. It was an unexpected and beautiful sight.
The other evening, I was on the front sitting porch with the New Yorker and I heard rustling near the poplar trees too loud to be the squirrels. I went back to my reading. A few minutes later, I looked up just as a red fox silently emerged and walked away down the the gravel driveway. I got up to follow. It was about 30 yards away when it heard me, stopped, and looked around to catch my gaze. Then it sprung into the air, all four feet momentarily off the ground, and scampered — happily it seemed to me — back into the woods and out of sight.