A Patient Man = A Lucky Wife

 

It's not too often that a fortune cookie is right. Now, had I got this one just a little bit sooner I probably would have heeded its' advice that time Clark told me I was a rabid beast. Anyway, I digress.

As you can see, I spend a lot of my time talking about how Clark drives me crazy, makes me want to move to a deserted island, pluck my eyelashes out and/or stick my ears in a blender. Maybe this is a bit extreme, but it's true... that's what I do. That's why this blog was created, to provide an outlet for wives to vent their feelings of frustration but also their feelings of happiness, appreciation and respect.

The Million Dollar Idea

I am neurotic. Not "pull my hair out over misplaced socks" neurotic, but certainly "put the toilet paper on the right way and change it if it's wrong" neurotic.

It all started when I first started living alone in college. (If you ask my mother - please don't - she'll tell you this began long before college and is a serious problem but to that I say "pshaaa!") That year, living in solitude, I came to appreciate the beauty of complete control over organization, form and [lack of] clutter. The years of throwing out unnecessary stuff began around age 19 and have continued ever since... roughly 6 times a year I will purge closets, drawers, cabinets, shelves; the only thing I find more satisfying is a visit to my chiropractor followed by a nice cool glass of pinot grigio.

Dress My Family Up in Corduroy

In honor of today being my husband's first day at a new job, I am going to share a memory of a time he made me laugh so hard I nearly peed my pants.

To tell the story properly, I must first share that when I was 26 my father passed away unexpectedly on Valentines Day- just a few short days before Hans had planned to ask him for permission to marry me. Hans loved my father nearly as much as I did. At his wake we knelt together to say our final goodbyes and Hans held his hand and asked him then for permission to marry me.