Spacing

It is improbable that time is the same for you as it is for me.  I mean, look at you, your getting older!  Not me.  Still hunkered down at that middling age where life is the great mystery of excitement and wonder, excepting the fact that I never wondered!  I just played. You?  I have no idea, but many went on to great ‘success’… and got older!  I’m still skating on the lake with wind blowing in my hair (no helmet thank you very much,)  stick-handling and shooting the puck between two black rubber boots.  No laces, just metal clamps.  If you hit the clamps it might sound like a ‘pipe!’

Oh, sorry, forgot, the skates are gone.  So are the youthful legs.

But that is not the essence of the story.  Just thought I would yank you a little.  No.  Twenty five years ago, I met this lady.  At a horse barn.  Where my sister was employed.    She married me.  Are you kidding?  Me??  Yeah, she did.

You want to hear the story?  Okay, here are the “Cliff Notes.”  Can’t tell the complete version and post it today.  And I want to post it today.  Because she is special.  Very special. A gem.  Today marks twenty five years of her putting up with me.  Those that know me would agree!  (Knock it off Toots!)

Amy was working at the barn.  I could care less, at the time, about watching my sister teach horse jumping to children.  BUT, that wild hair that I seem to grapple with on occasion grabbed me and said, “D.  buy a race horse and when it becomes a winner, you can drive to Canterbury Downs in a limo smoking a cigar, champagne on ice, and sit in the luxury suites.”  Got the silver tongue out and chomped into some friends to set this limo in motion!  But we needed a horse first.  Duh!

Melody Blue came to us.  He was supposed to be Yankee Blue.  But we had to submit three names to the ‘seers’ of race horsing by order of desire.  We went with Yankee Blue, Blue Yankee, and finally Melody Blue (a partners request.)  Of course they chose Melody Blue.  We just called him Blue.  Stupid Racing Commission.  Blue was smacker-ed with grey that gave him the bluish tint.   He was absolutely beautiful.  He just did not care to run real fast.  Or fast on a track.

Blue ended up at the barn where my sister applied her acumen.  He was such an easy horse.  Loved to sleep.  Eating was high on his list as well.  Amy was caring for customers horses, taking care of tack and cleaning the barn.  I could not help but notice her.  Dark brown hair, brown eyes…the rest of the package…!  BUT, she was a little younger than I. When I graduated high school, Amy was born.  I call my life BA and AA, Before Amy and After Amy!

Tyler was her wonder dog and she had two cats, Silas and Cali.   Me??  My dog was named Bummer and my cats were Null and Void.  Amy has class.

My big move, once I got past the idea that I could have been changing her diapers, was to buy this humongous bone and go up to her and offer it for her dog.  So, I actually climbed out of my bibs long enough to style up…I think my tee shirt was clean…and walk up to her, while she had her back to me.  (Sneaky)

“Here, this bone is for your dog,” I cleverly stuttered.  My goodness, you would have thought I was in seventh grade trying to work up the nerve to say hi to a girl at the drinking fountain!!

“Thanks,” she ‘gloriously’ said.

I did not respond but turned and walked away.  Quickly.  Wow, what a move.  But, two days later, I called and asked her out on a date.  Now, I have to get in that she did ask my age and I, ah, said something like, thirrrrrryryrytysevvvvvvvvn (you know, mumbled or garbled.)  So, when I was met at the front door by her mother, I was not sure what had been communicated!  But I knew it wasn’t the 39 I was!!

Five days later she agreed to marry me.  This was in the late June.  I wanted to get married before hunting season.  She in the Spring.  So somewhere April 1990 was chosen. It was just recently that I learned she was holding off not because of the love of Spring but to make sure she really wanted to marry me.  Really??!!  Yep.  Whew, made it past that period of examination.  And her mother?  Well, my age kept creeping up.  I could not hide the fact that I was 40 that December.  So, Amy just added a year when she spoke of me until her mother screamed at her,

“HOW OLD IS HE?????”  Got to love her.

April 28th, 1990.  Amy was sequestered in a room while I was out visiting with people. She was going nuts!  It was my idea.  I wanted to see her for the first time coming down the isle.  Well, I did not watch her but for when she was standing with her father and again when she, ‘an hour later,’ stood next to me.  She glowed tan in a simple dress with her hair in a french braid, the dress fabric woven in.   Stunning.  Think Michael Corleone in the Godfather!!  And when she smiled, I was putty.

Amy said her vows and when the Pastor turned to me, I knew I was never going to get to the finish line, so I said, “me too.”  Just that almost made me cry.

Here it is, twenty five years later, two families who love us, good friends that have stood by us, three horses, four dogs (we can count the years by animals loved and lost,) chickens and a 15 year old one eyed cat who can still catch birds and take on weasels…and me.

Happy Anniversary Babe.   Love you!  And thank you…for saying yes!!

p.s.  Blue never made it to the track but he went on to be a Champion Dressage horse here

in Minnesota.  He got to sleep and eat more!  My partners lost money.  Me too, but I

got Amy.

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