This year is the 100th anniversary of the publication of Anne of Green Gables, and I am not going to make it to Prince Edward Island to celebrate it. I think I'm really going to regret this in my old age. It's worse than missing Haley's comet, which I also missed in 1986. In fact, (God willing) there is still a chance I will see Haley's comet in 2062 if I survive to the ripe old age of 84. But I am definitely not going to be alive for the 200th anniversary of Anne.

Anne of Green Gables on public radio

J. Crew, I finally get you.

To celebrate our four-year anniversary, we took a quick weekend trip to Nantucket Island, about 30 miles off of Cape Cod.

Nantucket is a quaint, charming little place, full of glowing orange-colored old white guys (who wear white pants and leather loafers with no socks) and their arm candy. It is the only place where a store would try and pass this off as fashion. Seriously, I now understand where in the world men could wear seagull print shorts and fit right in.

In any case, in this economy, it's a privilege to travel and even more of a privilege to enjoy the blessing of marriage. We are thankful for both. Here are some pictures: