The wife and left the maddening heat of the city and headed for Calaveras County (yes, of the Celebrated Jumping Frog variety), where my dear had spied out a nice place for us to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary. The establishment had a quaint garden in the front, where we retired when it was tolerable to be outside. The Central Valley heat has been relentless this week.
In five years we have lived in four different places, have been members of three different churches, have had three visits to the emergency room (all my doing), one appendectomy followed by an extended hospital stay, worked at six different places (four for me, two for the wife), endured one blown clutch, one blown transmission, sold one car and purchased another, purchased a home and slew of other statistics I can’t remember.
We made it. We’re making it. We will make it. Of all my accomplishments, I am probably most proud of finding my wife on the Internet, chatting her up, getting a first date, a second, a third and eventually a “yes” when I asked her to marry me.
I love you, dear. Here’s to five more.
Have I mentioned to you, dear reader, that I am sick of living out of boxes? It’s a quarter past seven in the morning over here in blazing HOT Stockton, CA — It was 104 degrees Sunday, 99 degrees Monday and hallelujah!, a manageable 90 degrees today — and I am surrounded by boxes, boxes and more boxes. I stub my toe on a box as I stumble from the bedroom in the dark to make the missus fresh coffee.
“Can you make me some coffee?” she asks, grinning widely and blinking wildly, dressed in the native costume of her people, a damp bath towel on her head and a terry robe.
“Grrr.” I reply, in full denial of the reality of morning. Somewhere on an island in the Pacific, my native people are fast asleep. It is night there. I sleep for them. Continue reading
BOUGHT A HOUSE! Yep, the missus and I wrote out a check for an insane amount of money, by my estimation, for what the banking industry calls a good faith deposit.
It’s an adorable craftsman-style bungalow built in the early 1920s, on a tree-lined street with built in cabinets, french doors that open to the front porch and a big back yard on which our future children will play.
We’re right down the street from Victory Park, a lovely local park near University of the Pacific, and home to the Haggin Museum. The museum has an amazing array of exhibits for its size; they also sponsor docent-led art excursions to San Francisco and beyond.
We howled all the way home about how grown up we feel. We celebrated our four-year wedding anniversary Thursday. Now we’ve passed another milestone.
Overheard at La Casa Rivera:
“If I could eat beans and listen to Bossa Nova every day, I’d be a happy man.”