This is the year of clothes.
I did alright until I decided to get married. No one cared if my blue pants had white knees (I spent my life on my knees) and no one cared if I wore the same shirt a week at a time
Then it all changed!
Granddaughter Emily advised me that I needed a white shirt for my wedding and so for the first time in a couple decades, I own a white dress shirt.
Then Christmas came. Shar and I were alone Christmas Eve. There were three presents for her under the tree and 6 or 9 for me. They were all the same sized (which should have given me a clue).
Which reminds me of a line I heard from a new bride once, “I like him just as he is, maybe just a few minor changes.” “Minor” can have a lot of definitions.
So I opened packages and found pants and shirts and more pants and shirts. One shirt even had a neck tie, the narrowest I ever saw. It looked like a ribbon it was so narrow and to my eye looked incredibly like what I would not want to wear.
There was even a bag full of hats (Shar has a closet of hats). OK there were three. Two are OK and I will wear, the 3rd is going to have to go back to whoever thought it up. I don’t mind hats that have a lot of wear and character, but I want the character to be from use and even abuse and not from some factory on the other side of the planet.
Any way, I am well dressed, with more new clothes than I have bought myself for a long long time.
What did I buy her?
I admit it wasn’t terribly romantic, but I bought her a Ipad Air2; Gold; 64; WiFi. Not sure it was terribly romantic, but she likes it!

This is as close to a 30's depression shot that I have made for a while, and that thought has no connection to the piece I just posted!

THE Question

I did it. 

I asked Lady S to marry me. I pretty well knew her answer before I asked, but it was assuring to her her Yes.

We want to get married before Thanksgiving when my whole family will be together in Portland. Then, for those who cannot make it, we will have a wedding party there for family who did not make it to Idaho.

So we began informing family. 

Daughter 4 had airplane reservations within 15 minutes of hearing of the time.

Brother Ben, who lives in Georgia, is to be here in Early November, so we soldered those together and arrived at a date of November 9.

So far, so good.

And, that is about the time that the groom can take a seat and just massage his checkbook.The girls make most of the rest of the decisions. Shar has 3 daughters and I have 4, that is a lot of women.

All of my daughters will be here (but not the rest of their families). The exception to the families is granddaughter Emily who spent a few days of every week of her first 12 years in our house. 

So, that is how it stands. I got the forms from the church (my church and soon ours) for the date. 

There does not seem to be a conflict.

I came across this recently.
When I was a kid, Crosley was a viable, if not thoroughly eccentric car company. This is the little station wagon. The cars were ultimately small and light weight.
This one is getting a transplant of a Chevy V8. Not sure if it is a good idea, but that is the plan.

I ain't certain

I had breakfast with an old friend a few days ago.
Both of us had lost wives, from the same disease, exactly a year apart.
Life is not so good now. It is not really bad, just not really good.
In fact, we both agreed, that while we will do nothing to hasten the end of our lives, we will do nothing to extend our lives either. There just does not seem to be too much to live for.
What is wrong with us? I don’t know.

For the last dozen or more years, my goal, my job and my everyday experience was to take care of my Miriam. Now she is gone and something bigger than us or her or me has gone too.
It is harder to move on than I had thought.
My widower friend seems to have come to the same conclusions. He cared for his Rose for years until she finally passed away, together in their house. I think his real reason for living has taken a leave as has mine.

What to do? I am not sure.

Where am I goin?
I don’t know
Where am I headin?
I ain’t certain
All I know
Is I am on my way.
from “Paint your wagon.”

Lady S and I

Yesterday Shar and I went to get a door with a big window.

It was on Craig's list. I emailed the seller, he emailed back. I called him to make sure he would be there and to verify his address. We headed out his way, about 10 or 12 miles. About half way my phone went totally dead. (forgot to charge it ). Can't call him, all information is on the phone. Can't remember the address. So I am ready to go back to find a book i wrote it in or get the phone charged.

Shar says No, she has an idea of where the place is. We drive down a road and she says I should have turned right at the last street, so I drove into a gated community (the gate was open) and turned around. Remember that I am clueless of where to go.

So we drive down this street. I look for street names that seem familiar. After a bit of driving I see a street named "Mango." THAT IS IT.

So we drive down Mango Street looking for a house that might house a guy who is selling doors. Nothing looks good, so we circle and do it again.

There are 5 or 6 1st or 2nd graders walking down the sidewalk. Some walk across Mango street. I stop dead, not sure what the last two will do. Their mothers were walking a bit slower and catch up.

"Do you know anyone around here who sells doors?" Shar asks.

"Yes, he is my father-in-law."

So we found the door, bought and it and marveled.

Shar is amazing.

Nice looking door that will go on the pantry I am building her.