Buttoned

Oh, yeah, I knew there was something else I wanted to post here. I'll just re-post what I commented on Ace of Spades this morning.

Among the other problems with shacking up… is a confusion of "anniversaries." Milady and I got married, but six years after we got, erm, "engaged."

Forty years ago this morning, I drove from my house in Tulsa to the train station in Ponca City. A woman from Chicago, whom I had come to know at college in Wisconsin, was coming to visit. I kidnapped her She decided to stay, and we've been together ever since. The most amazing thing about that was, passenger trains stop in Oklahoma? Who knew? (They don't anymore, I don't think.) We are not today the people we were then (thank God!), yet through all the multiple life disasters and personal changes, here we are. Ready for the next forty.

(Always weird to quote oneself.)

I'll add this story of how Milady first attracted my attention (which is to say, more than the attention I already had for all ladies at college). I don't remember why I turned to her, but I asked if she could sew a button on my shirt (a sign of what a helpless rube my college-educated butt was). Her reply: "I'll show you how to sew one on." I liked that gal right away!