But my amazing and dedicated spouse is outside rescuing our trees from dense snowfall so full of water we keep hearing the echoing cracks of tree branches all over the neighborhood as they give way.
He spent two hours shoveling snow off the roof this afternoon and keeps stomping around tonight muttering words of doom. But that’s not a whole lot different than every other new year since we have lived in a high desert valley at 5,000 feet below a 9,000 foot mountain peak. I just had to have the bright idea to marry my sweetheart at midnight on 1 – 1 – 91, not giving one thought to a future where we live in a place that makes celebrating wedded bliss in winter difficult. So, it wouldn’t be ringing in the New Year without listening to the beloved grumbling, then tucking the stressed out grumbler into bed by 8:30, so I can stay up and maybe catch my sister on Facetime at midnight.
I love you honey! Here’s to 32 amazing years. And retirement will be in a place where there is no snow to shovel… I promise.
P.S. I’m having a hard time writing this coherently because despite it all, he never misses an opportunity to crack open a bottle of champaign. So, when I say, “I wish I could say WE were kicked back drinking champaign,” it means ME. He’s shoveling more snow and worrying about our giant elm crashing down on us. I hear him coming back inside. Yep… that’s him now calling our tree service… sounds like they’re having a busy night.
I’m raising my glass to all! Here’s to a fabulous new year full of exciting times and ordinary moments we can cherish!