As fate, or choice, would have it, I will be in the hospital on our anniversary. Bill and I were married on November 11, 1993, admittedly an easy date to remember, since it is Veterans' Day. We chose that date partially because I worked for lawyers and always had the day off (when the court house is closed, the office is closed.) So our early celebration today consisted of some time on the tennis court followed by a good lunch at Glenview.
The rest of the day, though, was full of shopping and preparations so that the house would be stocked with the necessary vittles and such.
And while my knee is throbbing, Bill has gone outside to do some work in the yard. The man is incredible! I call him an anomaly; his so-called friends, though, call him a freak of nature. He's almost 82, he is constantly in motion, and nothing hurts. What's that all about?
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