A fine-tuned machine are we.

My goodness, days can fly by when there are kids around.

Having stayed with grandkids, or had them stay with me, parts of the last couple of weeks have left me wondering where October went.  I would barely get breakfast in ‘em when they would be asking for lunch.  Forget trying to leave the house with them in tow.  I am tough, but not that tough. The sticky squeezes, however, the snotty kisses? To die for.  Seriously, the best.  My last couple of weeks of grandmother in charge was magical, wonderful, filled with laughter.  One of my favorite moments, and it’s silly, was after asking my two-almost-three-year-old granddaughter if she was really opening her candy right now she replied “No, you are” and shoved the bag at me.  I laughed so hard.

Now we prepare for some adult time.  We are flying to Seattle this week for a bit of a get-away to visit our son and daughter-in-law, and also to celebrate our *gulp* 40^th wedding anniversary.  We really don’t know how we got here.

 

Forty years ago I was swooning over the bridesmaids dresses which were a lovely spice, rust color knit material called Qiana.  Pure polyester.  With white lace trim.  Oh, the girls were stunning.  The gentlemen were decked out in a more pastel shade of rust…if there is such a thing.  Not peach, not salmon, not cinnamon.  Pastel rust is the best descriptor.  Charming, yes? Ah, the seventies...may they rest in peace. 

We had a wonderful wedding, fun, and one of the best receptions ever.  Our friends and family asked us to have it every year, in a small little building at our local park.  With 120 guests sitting elbow to elbow and a live band.  Great times.

Much like the days of the last two weeks, forty years have flown by. We have had great days, good days and not so good days.  Celebrations of every sort, as well as fights and disagreements, fits of laughter, and of tears.  We established ourselves. Wedged ourselves in.  We know who the other is, and accept each other.  Over the span of forty years, we tested, we fine-tuned, we adjusted.  We don’t fight now, that was some of the fine-tuning.  We have moments, now.  Moments when he is lucky he is still working while I talk myself all around an issue or aggravation.  This week it was his leaving my car empty of gas.  Oh, there was a lot of “You never this" and “I can’t believe that" in my head, while I stood at the gas pump, in the rain.

 

When he got home that night and I asked how his day went, he replied “The worst part was hearing from you…sorry about the gas”. 

It’s okay.  Guess what? We’re going out for dinner. You’re buying, and we’ll take my car.  

facebook.com/cindiswindowlakeliving