Where Does the Time Go?

Good grief!  

November 9, 1963 -- it seems like forever ago . . . and it seems like no time at all.

But what an interesting time it's been -- from sharing a classroom through 7th, 8th, and 9th grades, to 'going steady' in 12th grade, to marrying three years later -- college, teaching, graduate school,  more teaching, building a little house on a lake in Florida, our first child,  and then the decision to buy a farm. . . . another child . . . and total immersion in the world of raising tobacco, milking cows, butchering pigs, making a garden . . .

 

We share so much history . . . can finish each other's sentences . . . 

sometimes before they're barely begun. 

A few days before our wedding,  we attended John's grandparents' 50th anniversary party -- at which his grandfather made a little speech beginning with "Being married to the same woman for fifty years shows a terrible lack of imagination..."

Thank you, John, for being equally unimaginative . . . for all the good times . . . for two fine sons . . .  for indulging me with multiple dogs and cats . . . and for not fussing when I squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle. 

We've made a very pleasant life . . .