Ryan and I celebrate 10 years of marriage today. 10? Has it really been that long/was there a time when we didn't know each other? We're beating the odds, "they" say.
Ryan is the level headed one. I love it/it drives me bonkers. When I told him I had ordered a football field of fabric he didn't blink. When I cracked the rearview mirror on his car by parking too close to a mailbox he didn't get angry.
His perspective is focused. People, not things, are what we ought to be tending. I forget that. A lot. Like the time he broke our casserole dish 9 years ago and I was so mad [do I even make casseroles?] Sorry, love.
What has been with us since that warm summer day 10 years ago?
The sign that declared we were one. I dug it out of the closet and hung it in the rain today.
The three little Dansk vases, once shiny and gleaming, now spotted and dull. I like them even better.
The stud finder--little did I know how much I would use that odd thing from apartment to apartment to house to apartment to house.
The green plastic paper towel holder I thought we'd use, you know, just until we got another. I think we're both rather partial to it now.
You. You're more important than any thing. Love you.