Last night while Hugh and I were having dinner under the big tree with the twinkle lights on our back yard, we talked about everything.
Hugh and I met almost 19 years ago in a country western dance bar the used to be in Thornton (very north suburb of Denver). I had left California and had a plan to do six months in Denver, then six months in Chicago, six months in Boston, and then six months in Baltimore. I figure it takes six months of working and living somewhere to see everything. I started in outside of Denver, because I knew the General Manager of the bar from California.
Hugh enjoys country music. It has always been a bit twangy for my tastes. With the exception of the beachy guitar music that is out recently. I absolutely love Kenny Chesney and the Zach Brown Band. The only thing we haven’t dropped on our list to do things this summer is the Kenny Chesney concert at Red Rocks next week. Last week, when things were tricky here, Hugh wanted to sell our tickets and use the money to do something else this summer. I refused. By god, we were going to do something we planned to do!
So, we still have our tickets. Hugh is taking off the next day, just in case we do an all nighter with the middle Mr Marrs and we are going!
You know, it is funny. Our fifteenth anniversary backing up to my twenty-fifth high school reunion was hard. Usually I am very successful not having circumstances of our life define our life. But for some reason, those two big mile stones derailed me. I couldn’t figure out a way to make the plans we had work. And that sent me down the “I really miss the person who could hold everything that was important in my little bitty bag from Mexico” hole. It has taken me a few days, and a couple of sleeping nights, but I have found her again.
She happens to live in Ken Caryl, with her very understanding husband, three beautiful children, and one silly puppy.