When he started back all those years ago - and my goodness, those years seem to be getting farther and farther apart - it seemed so insurmountable. We were newly married, and this would mean a big change in our income and our daily lives.
It wasn't always easy, but we made it. He did homework and projects and registrations and class schedules all over again, and he succeeded. He succeeded very WELL.
I love this picture, because it reminds me of what he did.
Also? Man looks UNBELIEVABLE in a starched white shirt. Have mercy.
This photo also reminds me that I'm going to have my late grandma's elbows. Which means that my future grandchildren will most likely enjoy sitting in my lap and playing with the doughy folds of skin while we wait for their parents to pick them up after a long day of getting dirty and eating Little Debbies.
Before Brady's graduation party for the family, my aunt and uncle asked what he would like in way of a gift. They didn't want to get him something nice to put up on a shelf. They wanted to give him something he could USE. What could he use?
I told them cubes for the cows.
What did they show up with on the back of their truck?
Cubes for the cows.
Not only do I have a ton of memories from that day, but I have a whole slice of myself dedicated to those few years after we were married. When I think about them, I can still hear, smell, and feel everything from that moment in time. We were newlyweds, holed up in our little rented house, cozy and comfy as could be, and we were having a good time. We were stressed to distraction, but we were still having a good time. Of course, we didn’t appreciate what a set-up we had. When I look back at pictures of us and of that house from those days, I feel so very nostalgic…and maybe a little sad.
When we could order pizza and have it delivered – oh, the excitement for this country girl!! – within minutes to our front door…when we would lay on the couch together and watch the teevee in the evenings…when I would come home from work, change clothes, and go find him, just to be where he was…when people would just stop by and eat or visit or pick us up to go eat…when I watched the Golden Girls while getting dressed for work in the mornings…when Sugar and Penelope were permanent appendages…when it was no big deal if you cracked open a Coke or dropped your 20-pound purse on the floor after 8 PM at night…when lounging in the bathtub several times a day was an art form…when getting up at the crack of dawn meant working and hauling cows….
But time marches on, and a person just has to let some things go.
Like these jeans.
Throughout our dating history and well into our married years, this man of mine was directly linked to Wrangler jeans. Alas, the last pair was cut up for rags, and he never looked back.
Admittedly, I still look back there - for that little logo, of course - but it ain’t there.
And so this girl that’s not so good with change is practicing the art of looking around, right where she stands. At those new Gap jeans he’s wearing and at that two-year-old singing “a dream is a wish that your heart makes,” while she grins her daddy’s grin and twirls around in her new, blue dress….
Because four years from now, THIS is what I’ll be waxing nostalgic about:
Katie asking me to tell her the Goldilocks “song” in the bathtub or during supper, where she starts it with “Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Goldilocks,” and she fills in all the “just right!” and “Someone’s been eating my oatmeal!” moments. Often, she’ll even tell you how Goldilocks was sooooooooooo hungry and there was soooooooooooo much oatmeal!
Brady hurrying home to us from the station and watching Katie run down the hallway saying, “Daddy!!!!!” And look! He brought her donut holes…. (She's allowed, like, TWO.) And a whole baker’s dozen for Mama. Wonder what he plans on eating?
Big chickens Ruby, Opal, and Pearl perched on the porch railing, with the rooster raking leaves down below, just waiting to start a full day of hunting and pecking. The baby chickens and the kittens (three Mr. Pettibones and one Figaro) following me across the yard and up the back steps every day after work, just HOPING I’ve got something for them to eat (which I never do).
And naps in the bathtub. Because some things? You just can’t shake ‘em.