Herewegoagain
Well, dear hubby beat me to it. My goal for this anniversary was to absolutely sleep late, then nap, then eat chocolate, then nap again, then possibly read a bit of my latest Patrick O'Brian (eating and napping during the chapter breaks). And HE goes and stays up late last night (while I slept with a tummy full of chocolate, natch), drawing a cartoon, writing mushy stuff, making me feel guilty all over again. No wonder I chose "herewegoagain" for a blog name. Story of my life. Herewegoagain with the "ooops, it's an anniversary and I didn't do anything" story.
I suppose I should make dinner reservations, get a baby sitter, wear a dress, take a shower, (not in that order) and get moving on the anniversary thing.
Most people celebrate number 25 with silver. We decided to build a fence between us and the obnoxious neighbor who dared to build a house within sight of our pool. That's life in the country...why buy jewelry when you can build a fence, fix the well, dig a new septic system or take down a sick tree? When you think of "number 25" in the context of marriage, it has a certain permanent ring to it. Jewelry, or candlesticks, or mantle clocks can be lost or broken. A FENCE means, "we're here to stay, baby". And we are.
But, if DH is reading this, I still would actually prefer a Morris Mini (convertible, of course) to 200 feet of privacy. And, it's adorable that you changed my profile to read "married 25 years", but I'm going to have to actually age in there sometime. Since you are my techie, please put in there that I am 46 before I actually turn 47. If I continue to stay 45 while the anniversaries rack up, at some point it will look like I was 15 on the day. And while I maintain that I was a child-bride on some level (remember that, Perfect Daughter), I was an actual legal adult in 1982.
Well, time to start on the next quarter century. I'll think about it during my nap.
I suppose I should make dinner reservations, get a baby sitter, wear a dress, take a shower, (not in that order) and get moving on the anniversary thing.
Most people celebrate number 25 with silver. We decided to build a fence between us and the obnoxious neighbor who dared to build a house within sight of our pool. That's life in the country...why buy jewelry when you can build a fence, fix the well, dig a new septic system or take down a sick tree? When you think of "number 25" in the context of marriage, it has a certain permanent ring to it. Jewelry, or candlesticks, or mantle clocks can be lost or broken. A FENCE means, "we're here to stay, baby". And we are.
But, if DH is reading this, I still would actually prefer a Morris Mini (convertible, of course) to 200 feet of privacy. And, it's adorable that you changed my profile to read "married 25 years", but I'm going to have to actually age in there sometime. Since you are my techie, please put in there that I am 46 before I actually turn 47. If I continue to stay 45 while the anniversaries rack up, at some point it will look like I was 15 on the day. And while I maintain that I was a child-bride on some level (remember that, Perfect Daughter), I was an actual legal adult in 1982.
Well, time to start on the next quarter century. I'll think about it during my nap.
posted by herewegoagain at
12:59 PM
1 Comments:
cute, cute...
schmoopy, perhaps.
don't think I like this whole progression of the years, though. Because if you've been married 25 years, I'm 23, and I'm not at all comfortable with that! In fact, I quite liked 19. 19 was a good year. :-)
(I think I'm going to run to the mirror to check for gray hair)
By
Amy, at 5:05 PM
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