A Love Letter

by Ashley Weeks Cart

Yesterday was a pretty neat day, as far as days go.

I started the morning in LA, at Fox Studios, watching a friend and fellow Eph dominate at life. I mean, seriously? 30 years old and writing, producing and running your own television show? That is boss.

We sat in director’s chairs, for real, and listened intently with headphones as take after take was shot of Bill Pullman and Jenna Elfman acting the same 30 second scene. It was, in a word, CRAZY to see the behind the scenes. Jon’s show is 1600 Penn, coming out in January on NBC. It’s likeĀ West Wing meets Modern Family (in fact the director of the show is Jason Winer (the originalĀ Modern Family director) who was honestly so kind and genuinely enthusiastic and excited to be doing what he does. It was awesome to see that he defies all Hollywood stereotypes).

Jon left working for Obama as a speech writer exactly one year ago in the hopes of making it in Hollywood. It looks like he is on his way. It helps that he has plenty of insider knowledge from his time in the White House, and is stupidly smart and funny. Winning all around. I highly recommend that you tune in in January. And not just because I munched peanut M&M’s with Jenna Elfman in a faux Situation Room.

Also? Be sure that you’re following Jon on Twitter. Hysterical, especially in an election season.

Then I hoped on a plane and gazed at the Grand Canyon. I’d never seen her from the skies, and it was grand indeed.

I arrived back to the farm at 3 o’clock in the morning, exhausted, hungry, and itching to curl up in my own bed next to my sweet baby James. Upon walking in the door, I noticed a glow from one of the lights in the kitchen illuminating this:

I don’t know what is more endearing, the handpicked flowers from the garden, James’ crayon illustrated card or the ribbon wrapped spoon. God I love this man.

In the card, James informed me that the freezer was stocked with Ben and Jerry’s and the fridge had a bowl of pre-shredded cheese for nachos. Does he know me or what? I then opened the fridge to discover this:

And I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more in love with the person I’ve called my partner for over nine years than in that moment, over a silly bowl of cheese and smiley faces.

It’s good to be home.