Weddingbee bios

Hello Hive!

Thanks so much for having me! I’m Miss Cowboy Boot, and as much as I love rocking a pair of vintage, leather boots with a summer dress in warmer months, I am no cowgirl. That’s right—I’m an impostor!

I’m a Southern California girl who can’t get enough of the ocean but happens to live in a dusty little town called Santa Fe, New Mexico, which is why we’re eligible to become the Cowboy Boots. That, and we’re getting married at a ranch in Colorado.

Mr. and Ms. CB at our engagement party in September ’08, New York

Contrary to common misconception, Santa Fe is not a widespread plain of sweating, tumbleweed, and thirst-quenched cactuses. We are at the base of the Rocky Mountains, 7,000 feet up, complete with snow, golden leaves, wildflowers, and swimming holes. That’s why we love it, though—we’re avid hikers, backpackers, mountain bikers, skiers (okay, I snowboard), and kayakers.

Mr. and Ms. CB at a friend’s wedding in Maine, ’06

Mr. Cowboy Boot and I haven’t always lived in the Southwest, though. Mr. CB and I met while working at a restaurant together in Boston, Massachusetts during my senior year in college. Since painting is what Mr. CB wants to do, he was taking graduate classes at the Museum of Fine Arts school.

After my graduation, I bee-lined it to New York City, and six weeks later Mr. CB joined me in a 375-square-foot apartment in Brooklyn Heights. Yikes. The concrete jungle weighed down on us after just one year so, and when I was offered a job in New Mexico, we made the move. The mountains and clean air have proven good for our love (and for Mr. CB, who is from Upstate NY, and loves himself some wide open space).

A couple weeks after we met (2005)!

Here we are, a little more than six months out from our ranch wedding in the mountains of Colorado. Weddingbee has been my obsession since I got engaged (April 2008) and now, I am looking forward to sharing our planning process with you, hearing about your creative DIY projects, and getting all of your opinions!

Again, thanks for having me!

-Ms. Cowboy Boot

For some, a proposal is completely planned out. I once knew a guy who picked up his girlfriend in a limo, drove her to a helicopter pad, flew her to Catalina Island (a small plot of land about two hours off the coast of Southern California by boat) at sunset, and led her to a rose petal-covered hotel room overlooking the ocean.

Mr Cowboy Boot’s proposal was nothing like that.

But, before I whine and moan about not getting a chocolate-covered smorgasbord of perfectly timed bells and whistles, here are some clues into why the sporadic proposal was a-okay.

The view from our hotel room

Our mode of transportation

Heading into a cave via boat

Going up the side of a mountain via chairlift

If you didn’t guess it–which you probably didn’t, because I didn’t include a picture of a cappuccino or a ridiculously good pizza–we were in Italy. More specifically, we were on the Isle of Capri. But not because of any mad scheming by Mr. CB (I wish!).

Last April, I went abroad on assignment to write an article for a magazine. Because my way to Europe was paid, we decided to piggyback on my gig and take a 10-day vacation around Italy afterwards. We did a few days in Florence, Tuscany, Capri, and Rome.

Now, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I knew he was going to propose before it happened. When FMIL Cowboy Boot was visiting Santa Fe last, she happened to mention diamond rings in front of me. I sat there politely and kept mum. Two days later, Mr. CB and I were watching a movie in which they talked about a 12-carat diamond. “12 carats?!” He exclaimed, practically flailing off the couch. That’s when I knew it was coming—he knew more about diamond size than I did. Check.

And what a more obvious plan than to take advantage of a Rico Suave-country like Italy. At each sightseeing overlook, each “viewpoint”, I cringed, hoping Mr. CB wouldn’t ask me in front of thirty camera-clad tourists. That just wasn’t either of us—but sometimes a guy who’s trying to be romantic is blind to cheese-factor. (I’ll credit Valentine’s Day for the demise of romance.)

The proposal: We’d had the perfect day on Capri. We had zipped around the island by motorino, been oared into the Blue Grotto (Caesar Augustus’ private swimming pool back in the day), taken a single-seater chairlift to the top of Monte Solaro and hiked our way down, and had beers from our mini-bar on the balcony of our hotel room while cuddling under a blanket at sunset. We went inside to get ready for dinner, when he grabbed me and said, “I’ve been waiting to ask you this all week. Will you marry me?”

No champagne. No ring in his pocket. No mariachi band about to plow through the door. Just me, him, a private hotel room, on a whirlwind vacation in one of the most romantic countries in the world.

I couldn’t have asked for more.

For months now, we’ve been going back and forth about whether to include our beloved dogs in the ceremony. From the moment we were engaged, we were gung-ho on the idea of them being our ring bearers. I mean, we got them when we moved to New Mexico together two years ago as teacup-sized, two-month-old puppies. Okay, they were never teacup-sized, but 17-pounds is pretty small compared to their current state.

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Meet Odin (below), our year-and-a-half Pit Bull-Lab mix. Or Odiferus, Wilbur, Yoda (check out his ears) or Pequeño Toro. Yep, those are all of his nicknames, all of which happen to be longer than his real name. We got him from the pound as a sick little puppy, and he’s grown into a handsome young chap. It would be a mistake not to include him in the wedding. I mean, he already has his tuxedo on! But, because he was a stray for the first two months of his life, he has his quirks, which include quite a bit of anxiety in crowds of strangers, horrible leash-pulling habits, and an obsession with licking any visible skin. Hmmm…

Odin

Just a few months older than Odin is Rio (below). Two in April, Rio is a Saluki-Rhodesian Ridgeback mix. She hasn’t taken on as many nicknames as Odin (Riolicious usually does the trick) but she does have a few idiosyncrasies that he doesn’t. First, talking. She is probably the most vocal dog I’ve ever met. And it starts up if she gets bored—which is often, because she’s a high-energy hound mix. (Think Whippet, Greyhound, or anything that could run for twelve hours straight and still want more). Second, she is light as a feather, but she often gets the inkling to jump on people when she’s excited. I see our wedding as one of those times. Taffeta + nails = disaster.

Rio

Thus, we’re stuck with the question: To pooch or not to pooch? We really want them to be a part of our day. They’re practically our kids. (Wow, I sound like Angela from The Office. I promise we don’t lick them clean like she does her cats). But is it worth all the worry? Take a look at this picture. Then tell me how you can turn that down.

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Are you including any unexpected guests in your ceremony?

 

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That’s right—locals call this Santa Fe, “Fanta Se”. It’s actually not a surprise given how stunningly beautiful the high desert is. I had no idea until I moved here. If anything, New Mexico was at the bottom of my list but, once I got here, I was sold: twelve-thousand-foot peaks covered in pine and aspens, foothills in juniper and pinon, striped sandstone cliffs, hills spotted with earth-colored adobe homes (it’s a zoning law, here—they have to look like that), temperate seasons, art galleries galore, and sunsets that are as red as they come.

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Mr. Cowboy Boot and I both agree that this place is uber-romantic. This state didn’t earn the nickname “Land of Enchantment” for nothing! So, if we were going to soak up Santa Fe’s richness, here’s how we’d do it.

Pamper

Natural Hot Springs in New Mexico

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This “city” (more like town, with only 60,000 people) is home to some of the best massage schools in the country. It draws tons of natural health junkies, which means the spas and hot springs couldn’t be better.

• For the full spa experience, head to Ten Thousand Waves a couple miles above town. Tucked into the mountainside and shaded by juniper and pinon trees, this Japanese-style oasis exchanges robes for kimonos. Book a private tub for around $100 and soak for an hour with your sweetie.
• Make a day of it and drive an hour-and-a-half northwest to Ojo Caliente, a ten-pool mineral springs resort. While crowded and a bit touristy, the natural lithium, iron, soda, and arsenic pools feel spectacular.
• -refer to not pay for naturally-enriched pools? Directly across from Santa Fe’s Sangre de Cristo mountains are the Jemez mountains filled with natural hot springs (and quite a few less-than-clothed hippies). Take your chances and hike five miles in to the San Antonio Hot Springs—a collection of pools that are as warm as bathwater.

Rest

Hotel in Santa Fe

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Stay walking distance from town and the infamous “plaza” (worth about a ten-minute gander). In the plaza you can peruse the Native American jewelry merchants who lay out their turquoise-and-silver bracelets beneath the portal of the Palace of the Governors—the oldest public building in the country. The Eldorado Hotel & Spa, La Fonda on the Plaza, and Inn of the Anasazi will charm you with southwestern decor, upscale service, and their proximity to everything. If you’d rather hole up outside of town, opt for the Bishops Lodge for horseback riding. Or, the brand new Encantado Resort, for sheer indulgence, which is a ten minute drive north in Tesuque.

Eat

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Beeline it to Maria’s New Mexican Kitchen and order a margarita (one will put you on your ass) and the chile rellenos–seriously, the best relleno you can find. I’m on a mission to find a better one, simply because I don’t think it can be done. It is moderately priced and worth every penny.

For something nicer, head over to Los Mayas Restaurante where the owner, Frederico, will pick a flamenco song on his guitar for you and welcome you to “his casa”. The posole–hominy soaked in olive oil and spices–is phenomenal. If you’re in Santa Fe, it’s impossible to skip town without having a Frito Pie–a bed of chili, lettuce, tomato, and cheese on a pile of Fritos.

The place to have it? El Parasol, a take-out Mexican food joint that won’t cost more than $5 for one of these local specialties.

Taking breaks from New Mexican food is imperative to your health. That’s when we go for wood-fired pizza at Tesuque Village Market, sushi at Shokho (try the Santa Fe Roll with green chile), or inventive Italian cuisine and handmade pasta at Il Piatto.

Drink & Dance

Cowgirl BBQ

Santa Fe isn’t the most happening of places for nightlife (the median age here is 40), but there are a few hidden gems if you know where to go. Just outside of town, Santa Fe Brewing Company puts on great shows (Brett Dennen, The Infamous Stringdusters, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, Mason Jennings, Yonder Mountain String Band) and serves up their own microbrews. My faves are Santa Fe Wheat and the darker, but still smooth, Santa Fe Nut Brown. The place the locals go? Hands-down, The Cowgirl. Come here on any given night and you’re bound to see people at the bar (not the case at all of our establishments in our sleepy town). A huge outdoor patio strung with lights makes for a perfect summer-night margarita. Local bands like the Santa Fe All-Stars play here and keep the energy alive.

El Farol on Flamenco Night

For tapas and Latin-inspired music (flamenco, anyone?), El Farol (the oldest bar in Santa Fe) has live music every night. On Thursday nights, Nosotros has the best dancers in town twirling around the cantina. A flamenco show happens on Wednesday nights, along with a prix-fixe tapas menu.

Explore

Our favorite part about New Mexico is its wilderness: pine forests, vast deserts, raging rivers and serene lakes. Our advice? Get out of town and experience a bit of the state.

Boat the Rio Grande and Rio Chama with Kokopelli Rafting (yep, the company that Mr. CB guides for):

The Rio Chama

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Jump 40-foot cliffs into Lake Abiquiu:

Lake Abiquiu

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Hike through Native American ruins:

Pecos Pueblo
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Rent a bike and ride up art gallery-lined Canyon Road and down shady Acequia Madre:

Gallery on Canyon Road

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Visit Santa Fe’s Farmer’s Market, on Saturday and Tuesday mornings:

Local spices at the Farmer’s Market

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So, what do you think? Honeymoon-worthy?