Today is the 20th anniversary of the first date that I had with the Mister. I don't really think it was a date, but the Mister insists, so be it. Another day to get jewelry, I'm all about that.
We had lunch at the Tower Club that day because he was trying to impress me. Also, very coincidentally, he was being featured on Evening Magazine (again) that night, so all the waiters were, "Oh Mr. Weston, I can't wait to see you tonight. Mr. Weston, are you riding your motorcycle?" He was on the Tom Brokaw show as one of the business guys who rode way back in the day. Yeah, whatever. It killed him that I didn't ask, so finally he said, "I have a Harley". I said, "I know, you wore the tee shirts." (Business Week '91, where we met) "Well, that doesn't mean I own a Harley, you know." "Well, if you didn't, it'd be kinda pathetic." That was our first date, but lunch really isn't a date, don't you think?
Today, I rode my bike (not a Harley) to the Mazama store and along the way, saw very fresh bear poop and scared myself when I came around the corner face to face with a turkey vulture. It was eating the dead salmon along the river, just like the bear does. I thought it was a bear, so I yelled and it just hopped.
We had lunch at the store, I had to show some locals closeups of my face, and when we got home, the Mister came up with some newfangled way to hang his boat in the barn so the packrats wouldn't nest in it. Long story. Gus tried to get something under the deck and I finished another book and took a nap. Now, we're off to the Freestone Inn for dinner and then going to see Jay, who tore his achilles tendon in half and had surgery. The only thing I can think of to bring him is tequila, because it helps with the pain pills. This much I know.
I know it's the anniversary of 9/11, but we aren't celebrating that. We remember, but will not dwell.
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