Went to a wedding this weekend of a couple who have the best how-they-met story I know. Shortly after my friend met her now-husband, she told the story of how she was going on a cruise for a cousin's wedding, and was asked to room with a friend of the family: yeah, it would be awkward to room with a strange guy, but it wasn't a fixup, they just couldn't get the numbers to even up any other way, and did she mind? Well, they hit it off immediately, and as I said, ended up married.
Found at the wedding that this was not actually the whole story. The cousin's now-wife had dreamed that they'd put the two of them into a room on the cruise together and they'd fall in love and get married—despite the fact that they'd never met, lived on opposite sides of the country, and so forth. And they did, and they did. (I presume, but do not know, that the whole story was not told until after they got engaged, because talk about pressure!)
(And wow am I failing to do this justice, thanks to that whole sleep-deprivation thing. Insert funny faces and hand-waving liberally for effect.)
In other news, construction has started here at Chateau Steelypips. In three days, the garage walls have been stripped down to the studs, the front and side doors have been removed, and something-or-other has been done to the floor. (Chad's been taking daily pictures, which will go up on Flickr eventually.) They may be cutting out the door into the living room as soon as Wednesday, which initially seemed early to me considering that the project is projected to take about four weeks, but I guess you'd want to do all the structural stuff first. Yay, library!
(Two funny things about the construction. First, the contractor discovered that local code for new construction includes an egress window in each room (possibly, each ground floor room, but we're not sure). Said window must be fifty-seven inches tall—which is a door, basically, except that we really didn't want an exterior door in that room (taking space away from the bookshelves!). We decided to put two big windows in the front, stuck together, and maybe get Chad a desk instead of a table so that passers-by aren't looking at his knees . . .
(Second, when the contractor stopped by to drop off the permit, he asked Chad, "Have you ever dealt with the town building inspectors?" Chad said he hadn't, because our only prior permit was all done on paper. The contractor said, in tones of amazement, "They're so nice." Which is not at all where we expected that conversation to go.)
And Chad has another dog physics dialogue up, this time about relative motion, in which Emmy demands, "Why do they call relativity 'relativity?' Why not something cooler, like Superfast Timeslowing Squirrelcatching Dynamics?" It is premature of me to hope that relativity can be the sequel to Bunnies Made of Cheese: The Book, but I'm hoping anyway. (No official title or publication date yet; we'll certainly let you all know as soon as we do.)
Finally, U.S. folks: From now through May 19, you can join the National Marrow Donor Program Registry for free (apparently the cost of tissue typing is not always covered). Registering doesn't commit you to do anything and involves just a cheek swab. Non-whites are especially needed, but I hope everyone will consider it.