Togetherness in Postcards 4

On and off this month, I’ll share some of my collection of G and M pictures. Since I live with a camera in my hand most of the time, I have lots of us pictures.

We met in 1983, and I confess that I am 12 years older than he. G was sober, and I was certainly not. Twelve years later, after my stepfather died and I no longer qualified for free medical care, we married. Sometimes the most sideways of reasons for something still work even after 32 years.

Top: There we were in the tiny OB cottage. Grandma’s bookcase is crowded two deep in science fiction and mysteries, and George is sitting in Gimpa’s Morris chair. Middle: 1986: Wedding day at the big house after everyone was gone. Our shoes are off. Bottom: 1986: Vegas: We had a new truck, so we drove to Vegas for our honeymoon. It snowed, by the way, and we ended up sharing a small cab with all our luggage. G won enough to pay for the honeymoon. As soon as we got home, we bought a lid for the bed of the truck.

Life has never been the same.

• Himself: WW weigh in , and we both gained a bit. He went to the museum, we ate, and we curled up with “West Wing.” It seems just like today’s politics.
• Herself: I only gained .4. Not bad. Old friend from HS’s husband died. I introduced them 52 years ago. Got the dishes done and the bed made. The bad was that my forgettery really worked well this day. I planned a route to go shoot at Great Curves, and not only did I go a different direction and have to back track but forgot my camera. I was appalled and went home to hibernate with a good mystery.
• Reading: Just finished “River of Blood,” a Monk mystery.
• Balance: Talking about it to G, writing about it, and letting it go. The worry of forgetting things remains.