17 years

Yesterday was our 17th anniversary.

I remember the first year in which we fought to a standstill every weekend about money or chores, practically on a schedule, and then made up passionately. Actually resolving conflict with like, you know, real conflict resolution skills- well, that took us years and years.

I remember trying to cook that first week we were married and I tried to do it like my mom- a pound of ground beef and a can of cream of mushroom soup, no recipe. Absolutely inedible! Threw the whole thing away.

I remember setting things on fire. Went to bake my first baking as a married woman, turned the oven on, and smelled burning. Someone had come and decorated our apartment with the bouquets and tulle and stuff and had hidden a bouquet in the oven! And at a party we hosted, I remember making microwave popcorn for the first time, pushing the popcorn button and walking away only to set off fire alarms and have huge billows of black smoke pouring out of the microwave! Carried the smoking bag to the dumpster and the place still smelt burnt for a month. And of course, all in front of company I was trying to impress.

And couches- we had like 3 couches- a plaid love seat, a furry white number, and a plaid hide-a-bed, plus we had a couple chairs in odd colors and interesting textures. Tim's roommates had bought Salvation Army couches for their townhouse which they gave us as a wedding present and my grandparents gave us several of their old pieces, too. So we had living room seating for like 12 in clashing plaids and fur. Of course the worst was that our first place was on the third floor and the furry one was super long and the hide-a-bed was all metal and weighed a ton! After that first move, I think we gave away several keeping the white furry one which was the most comfortable and which ultimately met an interesting fate. I got bad allergies and had to get rid of the fuzzy couch because of dust mites. Couldn't find anyone to take it and put it in a fellow teacher's back yard burning pile where it, too, met a smoky demise.

And no recitation of our first year could be complete without recalling the milk crates. Tim and I led our first year of Playtimers Day Camp together that summer. In fact, we were married in the middle of camp that first summer- rehearsed after work on Thursday, married on Friday, and then went back to work together on Monday morning. The daycamp served school lunches to all the kids every day and these lunches included milk- 2% and chocolate. So every day after lunch, there would be several milk crates sitting around the kitchen. Handy! We started taking them home, stacking them, and filling them with books and turning them upside down as a side table or turning them into module storage in the closet or.... You get the picture. So handy these crates. So versatile. Soon we had going on 30 of them. And then- I read the warning on every crate.

Busted! We stopped taking them but couldn't part with the ones we had. And still have, although in diminished numbers, in our basement. I just used two this week as a stand for my succulents, in fact.

17 years. And I'm happier now than when we started. Love you, Tim!