It's not all a bed of roses

26 years ago

on a cool, overcast Saturday afternoon

(3.11.84)

The Bloke and I

were married in St Mathews Church

Boulder.

I was nervous, just 20 years old.

As were signing the marriage certificate

a large, black spider dropped down

and hovered above the table.

My brother who got a fright

 and not given to

a genteel vocabulary

let out a choice expletive

in the presence of the

presiding minister.

It provided light relief

from what was a quite

formal occasion.

26 years.

Five beautiful daughters

2 house moves

and here we

are.

Yes he bought me the roses

after he initially forgot

the girls called

to remind him.

I don't really mind

I am used to him by now.

I have other news and pictures but will do that tomorrow. My internet is being shaped and it is painfully slow.

Talk soon.