The Couples Questionnaire

For couples - married, dating or whatever . . .
 
Who's older? He is.

How long have you been together? It will be 33 years of marriage in November, plus 1 year and one month of dating.

Who asked? He did.

Did you go to the same school? Yes, and we rode the same school bus. However, he paid no attention to me and, except for elementary school, we were not in school at the same time. We became a couple after we both graduated high school.

Who is the more sensitive? I am.

Where do you eat out most as a couple? Shakers or Cracker Barrel

Where is the furthest you two have traveled? Together we've gone as far north as the Poconos in Pennsylvania and as far south as Charleston, SC. I have been to California and Paris and he has been to Appleton, Wisconsin and New Orleans.

Who has the worse temper? I do.

Who does the cooking? I do, for the most part.

Who is more social? He is.

Who is the most stubborn? He is.

Who wakes up earlier? He does.

Who has the bigger family? We have the same size immediate families and both have lots of cousins, aunts, and uncles. If we go back far enough, he and I are fifth cousins, so . . .

Do you get flowers often? Very seldom. I am allergic. He did buy mums for outside the house a while back.

How long did it take to get serious? Not very long.

Who eats the most? He does. Although you couldn't tell that from looking at the two of us.

Who does the laundry? I do, although he will occasionally toss a pair of cow-doody covered coveralls into the washing machine.

Who picks where you go to dinner? We both do.

Who is the first one to admit when they’re wrong? I'm never wrong and neither is he.

Who has the craziest exes? We don't really have exes.

Who wears the pants in the relationship? We both wear pants.

Who cries more? I do.

Who hogs the bed? He does.

Pocono Raceway

You may be wondering why we chose to go to the Poconos if we weren't going to spend our time in one of those heart-shaped bathtubs at a resort.

Here's the reason. Pocono Raceway offered a chance for my husband to knock off a couple of items from his bucket list.

The entrance to the Pocono Raceway.



A rock with Richard Petty's
 name and racecar number.

The raceway offered a number of different affordable driving and/or riding experiences. He also was able to visit the race track, plus we were in the infield of a major race track even if the place was empty aside from us and other drivers or riders.
All of this is very thrilling if you have been a NASCAR fan for your entire life.

Wednesday was the day he was scheduled to take a ride in a stock car  at 165 mph around the 2.5 mile track. He decided not to drive because he determined he would get to go faster if a pro was at the wheel (and he was right - the guys who were driving crept along while he whizzed by them).



This is the infield.

 

These were the cars that would be used.

 


I don't know if these were Sprint cars or ARCA or what.

My husband had to put on a racing suit.



Then he waited.



He had a big smile on his face the whole time.

OK, he's not smiling here, but I love this picture of him.



This is my picture of a picture that the stock car people took.



This is the backside of him; I was taking this picture while the (ah hem) professional photograph was taking his picture.

 

Also my picture of their picture. I couldn't get over the infield railing to take a picture of him in the car from this side.
The driver's name was Steve.

This is my picture of him in the car, taken from the infield.



He's getting ready to go!

There he goes around the track at 165 mph. (And didn't I line that picture up well?)

And he's back, and shaking hands with one of the fellows who worked there.

Sometimes you go do things with the guy you love just because you love him. This is one of those major dreams - he's always wanted to ride in a stock car around a race track. I am glad we were able to go to Pocono so he could have this experience. It made the whole trip worth it.

But there was still something in Pennsylvania for me . . .

The Broken Man

About this time 32 years ago, I gave my husband a little plaster fireman that a friend painted for me. It sat on our shelf  by the fireplace for 29 years.

This morning my husband came in and lay beside me on the bed. "I have a confession to make," he said.

"What's that," I asked, still half asleep.

"You know that little fireman you got me that Dee made a long time ago? I broke him."

I was quiet for a moment. "When did you break him?"

"Sometime ago when I was cleaning the shelves for you, when you were really sick."

He had hidden him on a high shelf behind the TV speaker, turning him sort of butt out so I wouldn't notice the little guy was broken. And were it not for the fact that I plan to clean those shelves thoroughly today, dear husband might have gotten away with it for quite some time.




My little guy, still whole (a 2013 photo).

Now he has a concussion.

Not to mention, a broken helmet.

Here he is with a few tiny pieces (that were stuck inside
of him and I didn't see them until I took the above photo).

After I rose from bed, I looked to see the damage. It's a pretty big hole, and I know nothing about plaster. I will ask an artist friend if he is fixable. I won't throw him away until I know, but he will be relegated to a closet shelf, poor guy.

The Deer Are Not Afraid

We have lived in our house for 29 years. The animals are used to us. They stand and watch while the car drives up and down the driveway. They will run a few yards when we walk out the door, then turn and look at us as if to say, what did you bother me for?

When my husband was mowing, I glanced out the window and saw this:

There are actually two deer up there; one is a little further in the back and I shot this through the window screen.

Isn't it amazing how close they come, though?

Moving a Tree Limb

The other night, a very large dead limb fell from one of our trees in the backyard. It landed standing up, like a tree itself, leaning against its former owner and another tree.

We could not leave it there for fear it would fall on someone's head.

So hubby brought up the backhoe.

Hubby on backhoe getting ready to attack tree limb.



He moved the backhoe bucket ever so gently, like a mother cat stroking her young.



He moved the bucket and pushes on the limb.



The limb caught on another tree, of course. So he lowered the bucket and lifted from the end of the branch.



Tada! The big branch is down on the ground, ready to be sawed up and placed on the wood pile.
 

From My Valentine

A pretty red box



Full of Godiva chocolates



With a secret surprise



Of love in the middle.

Thursday Thirteen

Yesterday was my anniversary - 32 years of marital bliss to the same guy. In an age where many people have been married multiple times, I'm not sure how we've managed to hang on to one another, but we have.

My husband is a hard-working fellow. He has three jobs - he's a Battalion Chief with the local city fire department, a septic tank installer, and a farmer. He is a good guy and I'm lucky to have him.

Anyway, here are 13 pictures of my husband.

As a baby. Isn't he cute?



In September 2015.

A few years ago.



He rides a motorcycle, too.

On the tractor.

In his dress blues.

Asleep and unaware.

He loves to hunt.

A rare day off.

In his uniform again.

As a young firefighter.

Standing by his bride.

On his 50th birthday. I threw him a surprise party at the fire station, and he was not overly happy about that.

_____________

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 421st time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.

Thirty-Two Years of Marital Bliss

Man at Work

Making a few little changes



The kind I only watch.



It is good to the Queen.