ozma914: cover of my new book! (Coming Attractions)
( Mar. 4th, 2023 12:19 am)

 The Fifth of March is my eleventh wedding anniversary, so I checked and found out the traditional gift for that particular landmark is ... steel.

So I gave Emily a license plate.

I don't know what I'm more worried about, her reaction or how soon the owner will find out it's gone.

Apparently steel symbolizes strength and integrity, and how hardened you have to be to your spouse's bad habits to last eleven years. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilW9tlowBMk2LW3-_VTVaoEeeSrtPWxFGfAVTLjDIubmm1-cyUCpaY38ApKChuNbHWve5zclRhG7AvNIDMUdNk6Dmd_CGQKD6O0qkBhGUaHQiF4pI2o6dSddh9_8-zb5P-Q3ejDsxXtuff1ppbRPFX2zkPqiB5LjmCvxteADzB0yMCd9X8IDeC5Xpvbg=s320

I think our best mutual anniversary present was the dog. Also, one of the more expensive, but never mind. The truth is Beowulf wasn't an anniversary gift at all, but he's been with us for almost our entire marriage--he's basically our child, and one year I even had his portrait painted (penciled?) as a present for her. The only thing that's lasted longer for us are some of my shirts, although for some reason I keep finding them accidentally tossed into the trash can.

https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dI0Glp81_7A/Xfs4ns-8G_I/AAAAAAAAfAI/5MfVJUlEkW4nXuVX9td_MTLz-TaSbM7iwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/canvas.png

I suspect Emily's given up on expecting a lot out of me on special occasions like this, but hope springs eternal. I freeze up when it comes to preparing for these things. Congress will balance the budget before I get around to planning. I'm also utterly unable to compose a nice greeting card message, despite the fact that I'm an actual writer. I'm sure a good psychiatrist could get that all sorted out, but I have to wonder whether that sorting would screw something else up. I'm a carefully balanced stack of anxiety and insecurity at this point in my life--why take chances?

Just the same, I think she still appreciates me ... I think ... and I know she still loves me, or she'd head back to her home state where winters are milder. (Except maybe this year.) She also knows what I need more than I do myself, which is probably a thing with all couples, and she takes good care of me. I try to take care of her, too. I guess that's the important thing.

As for gifts, what Emily really wants is a horse, of course.

https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LBx4-729B74/XHzg12mD9KI/AAAAAAAAd9o/bbmP449XMOUI1DexN8oVhnupLGUPJKe0gCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1524.JPG

And I think Beowulf would be okay with it--he's touched noses with horses before. However, if we tried to keep a horse in our back yard I'm pretty sure someone would notice, and that's not allowed in town. Unfair, right? Horses can come in handy. But we're on the lookout for a place in the country, so sooner or later I'll get her that horse ... s ... horses.

 

 

 

So Emily, if you're still talking to me--you never know for sure--I love you, and I'm sorry for my fails, some of which are epic. I'm working on them! Well, I'm working on some of them. But I'll always be there for you, even when I'm being there badly, and know this:

I love you more than chocolate.

 

 

 

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

 

 

I wanted to post this to celebrate how much better my brother Jeff is doing at the moment. After a years long battle with lung cancer and then a fungus infection in his lung, he was given just two weeks to live--a month ago. Not that he's out of the woods, but he's eating some, has gained about five pounds, and is looking a lot better. So I thought I'd post these pictures stumbled across from our sister's wedding, way back in ... well, let's not think about how long ago it was.

In the first one Penny looks great, but I get the distinct impression I'm pretending to be James Bond and Jeff is playing the latest suave Bond Villain. Or ... do I look a little like Gomez from The Addams Family?




In the second one, I feel more like a stereotypical English butler. "I'm sorry,  sir, but I'm very much afraid you must shave an inch from that beard before the master will see you." But Jeff looks really good--I wonder if the reason why he so often clowns around in front of the camera is because he figures he can't do much better than this one? Let's force him into another bow tie and find out.

Okay, so I'm a bad dad for not getting these photos up before. It's a long story, but never mind me: On August 18th my youngest daughter, Jill Hunter, became Jill Mapes. That's right, she entered the witness protection program.

 

No, no -- she got married!

 

That's Jill on the left, and Doug on the right. You probably already guessed that.

 

 

They have a lot in common. This cute little Lilly, for instance.

 

Big Sis was there too, naturally.

 

With big Sis came, of course, little nephews:

 

Hunter ...

 

And Brayden

 

It's been a particularly busy summer since then, but my only real excuse is that other people got better photos than I did. Many happy returns!

Happy anniversary to my lovely and hyper-smart wife Emily who, for reasons still not completely clear to me, has stuck around for six years. (See? I remembered! Or is it five?) Here's the blog I wrote about it a few years ago:

https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-crystal-leather-anniversary.html

May you have a day of relaxation and happiness. And chocolate. Even my chocolate, because that's how much I love you.

Maybe I should run her a bath and make her a nice meal. Or, since I want her to have a great day, buy her a nice meal.

 

 

 

 

I took a couple of days off for our wedding anniversary this year, having come up with a fairly simple idea, which is all I'm capable of when it comes to events like that. Anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's Day ... my mind freezes up like a ... frozen ... thing. See, just thinking about it does that.

Now, my wife loves camping, but our anniversary is March 5th. In Indiana that's camping season in the same way the South Pole is a tourist attraction: Sure, you can do it, but you're more than likely going to freeze. But we'd had a very warm February, so I rolled the dice and came up with a plan: We would head south for a short camping trip, maybe somewhere along the Ohio River where it's always at least five or ten degrees warmer than Northern Indiana. It's not exactly green down there yet, which is why I settled on Clifty Falls State Park--a place where a lack of foliage might actually improve the view.

As long as it didn't rain it was a brilliant plan, by which I mean it was brilliant by my standards, by which I mean I didn't come up with a backup plan in case it rained. Then we got measurable snow on two of the first three days of March. The first day we didn't get any snow because of the severe thunderstorm rolling through.

I confess to getting a little nervous at that point.

Our forecast was cooler and partially wet, but hey--that was hundreds of miles from our soon-to-be dream anniversary spot. So I checked the forecast for Madison, Indiana, which is right by Clifty Falls at the opposite end of the state.

Their forecast was exactly the same as ours.

That I didn't see coming. It wouldn't be so cold that we wouldn't be comfortable inside the sleeping bags my mother-in-law gave us for Christmas--but three days stuck inside a tent with a dog, wrapped in a sleeping bag (us, not the dog), just doesn't seem all that dreamy.

So as I write this it's March Third, and I'm desperately trying to come up with a plan B. I even checked on what the anniversary gifts are for a fifth wedding anniversary. The traditional one is wood, and the modern one is silverware.

Well, the wood would come in handy to build a fire. But silverware? Why don't I just give her a new garbage disposal, or a vacuum cleaner? "Isn't it romantic? A gift like this will sweep you off your feet! Get it? Dear? What are you doing with that ax?"

At this point I considered combining the anniversary gift ideas into a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" themed anniversary, in which we would go out into the forest with wooden stakes and silver bullets to hunt the supernatural. That show figured into how we met, and I believe it's having a 20th anniversary itself, so I thought I had something. Then I realized it would involve taking my once again disappointed wife into an area with no witnesses, then handing her a sharp object and a loaded gun.

Might as well just give her a shovel, too ... but I think hand tools don't come around until the 11th anniversary. I'll let you know how it goes.

If I can.

You’ll never guess what my youngest daughter, who’s get married, is getting. That’s right—married! You guessed!

Looks like it’s going to be a little over a year from now, during which time she’ll probably be engaged in engagement things. Congrats, Jill! I’m just as ready for this as I was for my oldest daughter’s wedding, so I’m not.

Here’s one of my favorite photos of her, although it’s about five years old now. That’s her nephew Hunter, by the way: No baby in any way has anything to do with this engagement. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

 

We're back!

 

Didn't notice we were gone, did you? We were, for almost a week, to attend a wedding down in southeast Missouri. It turns out you're not supposed to announce to all the burglars in town when you're leaving, so this is after the fact. We had a great time, except that harvest is in full swing down there and so were my allergies. Naturally, we'll post photos later ... not of my allergies. (It was also sunny and in the mid-80's the day we left. The forecast here in Indiana for tomorrow: 63 and showers.)

 

Now we're diving into our latest book project, which I'll also have more about later, and will be very busy for the rest of the year.

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

 

            It occurs to me that this column comes out on March 5th, my third wedding anniversary.

            And by “occurs”, I mean my wife reminded me.

            As I wrote a few years ago, it wasn’t supposed to be our “real” wedding. Our intention was to get married here in Indiana, then have a bigger celebration in her home state of Missouri. The first wedding was exactly the kind most guys want: Get it done and over with:

            “Mark, ya’ll wanna?”

            “Well … ouch! Yep.”

            “Emily, ya’ll wanna?”

            “I get his stuff?”

            “Yep.”

            “Why not?”

            “By the authority of the World Wide Web Church Of Nigerian Princes, ya’ll is hitched.”           

.

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