One's life story can take interesting twists and turns. Ours sure did. The Ex-Ex and I were married on July 24, 1982 in the First Baptist Church in Spruce Pine, my hometown way up in the Appalachian Mountains. It was a small wedding. We paid for it ourselves. We look like we are 12 (of course, every one under 30 looks 12 to me these days!). Oui, I was a brunette once upon a time. And the Ex-Ex had a lovely head of hair.
I wore my aunt's wedding dress. We were very close at the time. My college roommate was my maid of honor. My sisters were in the wedding, too, in their yellow homemade dresses. We were surrounded mostly by family and a few friends from high school, college, and Durham Academy, where we both worked even way back then (it's where we met). We honeymooned along the Blue Ridge Parkway, hiking and exploring. We made it all the way to Roanoke, Virginia, before the money ran out and we had to head home to our new apartment.
Thirty years, two kids, four different houses, several cats, various cars, one separation and divorce and one reconciliation later, here we are. Whenever anyone asks the Ex-Ex for the story, he replies "You'll have to read the book." The one I am working on. The Sabbatical Chef. The one I hope will be finished this time next year.
(Photos by Rick Bland)
I am listening to Chico and The Gypsies chantent Charles Aznavour as I write this. Lovely music. I bought the CD at the Sunday market in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue.
Bon appétit et bon anniversaire de mariage!