27th wedding anniversary

Today we've been married 27 years.  I like the sound of that.  Marriage takes a lot more work than I ever imagined. My parents made it look pretty easy, so I wasn't prepared for the rocky roads that inevitably every couple stumbles across after saying, "I do."  Nor was I prepared for how intensely satisfying the reflection in the rearview would be, metaphorically speaking.

To celebrate, we went up to Amish country--Lancaster, Pennsylvania last night. We both love the peaceful drive up there. No beltway, just buggies.  No skyscrapers, just farms.  We had delicious, authentic Chinese food at a little place called Hong Kong Garden.  The humble exterior belies the
great food and service within.

We stayed in the Hampton Inn in Lancaster and requested a  non-smoking room with a king bed. Walking to our room, I smelled cigarette smoke.  But the sign on the door and the doors around it said "no smoking."   I tried to ignore it, tried to be a happy wife the whole entire time.  We stepped inside the room and it was better.

It also seemed we chose a night that some youth group was having a retreat. The guys were on our floor, and teen guys don't speak or close doors quietly.  It almost seemed like rough-housing in the hall.  I almost got up and played the mother-away-from-mother part.

The king bed was very comfortable, to be sure, but the smoke? I could smell it, almost taste it on my tongue. I was starting to get a stomach ache, and then a headache.  Paul was not bothered, and since we were all settled in, unpacked, teeth brushed, yada yada, I decided to take my complaint to God.

 "Please, Father, I know you love me and you care about the little things. Please block this terrible smell and put me to sleep."


And my heavenly daddy, my abba, did just that.   I had a great night's sleep.

This morning we found out it wasn't a youth group. It was a wrestling team. That explains everything.

We heard a joke from some probably-Baptists over breakfast (eavesdropping, but not really).

Q: What was Isaiah's horse's name?
A:  Izmee.
Q:  Izmee?
A: Yes. He was always saying, "Woe, is me."  (Whoa, Izmee!)  



After a hearty breakfast,  my hubby humored me by taking me to four--yes, four--quilt shops while he stayed out in the car at three of them.

 In turn, I stayed in the car while he went to Guitar Center.  Together we spent than $15 on our hobbies. (And, I guess I should disclose that he spent ZERO of those.)


We ate at a yummy little sandwich shop called Isaac's in a town called Intercourse. Yes, folks, you can buy a keychain that says "I love Intercourse" if you want to.  We didn't.

Intercourse is just down the road from Paradise. In case you want to google that, it's not far from Point A to Point B.

When we got home, our daughter (who had stayed overnight with our middler) had surprised us by doing a makeover on her dad's guitar room! And  her brother's room! Pictures coming.

And we waited to hear if our first son and DIL's offer on their house was accepted. It's a darling little brick rancher with a sweet, fenced yard only a half mile from our daughter!

Selfies didn't happen. I asked hubby if he'd oblige me for one couples' shot by a pretty poinsettia (a flower in my wedding bouquet) but he said no.  It wasn't worth spoiling a good time. Love does not insist on its own way.