Today is and my 91st wedding anniversary. OK, not really. It’s actually our 13th, but since we have always counted our anniversaries in dog-years, this is, for us, is our 91st. It’s kind of a shame that Hallmark doesn’t have a gift suggestion for the 91st anniversary. Their idea of a fantastic gift for the big one-three is lace (traditional) and “textile furs” (modern). Really, Hallmark? After
13, I mean 91 years of marriage, I still don’t want him to go buy me something made of lace– and since I live in TEXAS, I think we can safely say that “textile furs” are out as well. Anyhow, gift-giving aside, I thought I’d regale you with tales of our über romantical 91st wedding anniversary adventures– you know, just to make you really jealous at my glamorously fancy life and passionate marriage. So here goes….
This morning, The Hub playfully awakened me with a soft pat on the shoulder, a kiss on the forehead, a smile, and a five year old boy with his underwear on backwards dangling from his shoulders, screaming “happy anniversary, Mommy! Time to get up and get me a juice box!” Yes. Ninety-one years of marriage is nothing if not romantic. Since he was chivalrous enough to let me “sleep in” before he set off for an exciting day of drug pushing, I only had about a half an hour to get myself and the kiddo dressed and fed (and coffee made!) before preschool drop off. Luckily, my Mondays are reserved for my BFF and our twice-weekly death marches where we try in vain to burn off some of our lingering baby weight.
This evening’s anniversary events are just as titillating. After making sure everyone’s homework is filled with dotted i’s and crossed t’s, I’ll sink into a luxuriously unfolded pile of freshly dried laundry on the couch with a chilled bottle of the Edwards Aquifer’s finest and catch up on some cartoons with #3 while my Knight in Shining Armor accompanies our Cub Scout to his pack meeting and #1 paints her toenails. The Hub raced in from work, grabbed #2 and as they headed off to the pack meeting, he called out from the driveway, “What kind of fast food drive-through crap does Hallmark recommend for the 91st anniversary?” “Tacos!” I yelled back. “Sounds good,” he replied. Yeah, it’s a great life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But he better check out the list for next year. Hallmark says 14 years is animals. Or gold jewelry.
BUT HANG ON! This is a genealogy and family history blog! You didn’t come here to read about my 91st anniversary! You came here to get some history, didn’t you? Ok, well, here you go. Without further ado, here are FOUR generations (aka 107 years) of brides in my family tree. I love these four pictures. You will too! I think I might need to write about these ladies….