The Story of My Life

August is upon us and with it comes the anniversary of the most momentous and rewarding decision I ever made.  August 9th is the anniversary of 36 years of pure and absolute wedded bliss.  Since I plan to make each year of my blog into a separate issue bound for future generations, I feel it is time to tell the story behind the wooing and wedding of two people who were clearly destined to be together.

The story of this guy.

And this girl.

In many ways meeting Earl was the beginning of my life.  Oh sure, there was life before Earl, but I can only compare it to a film in black and white that suddenly becomes technicolor when the hero of the story appears.  The interesting thing is that I very nearly didn't recognize the hero of my own story.

Lets begin with me at the tender age of 17. I was a good girl, raised to love Jesus and mind her p's and q's.  My nickname in high school was Virg.  Short for...well, you know.  I had plenty of guys ask me out but I turned them all down. I had an idea in my head of what my perfect guy would look like and none of the scalawag, skirt chasing, farm boys in my tiny rural high school fit that ideal.  I had seen what a bad marriage looked like and I wasn't taking any chances of falling for someone who didn't measure up, and so I managed to leave high school and enter college having had one date, a blind date that a friend begged me to let her set up.  One date was enough for me. He wasn't my type.

What was my type you ask?  I had thought it out thoroughly and wrote a list which I kept in my Bible .
1. He had to be 5' 10" or taller.  I'm tall and I wasn't dating any short guys.

2. He had to be a Christian.

3. Dark hair and blue eyes

4. He had to be kind and loving. He had to treat me well.

5. No bad temper!

6. He should have a mustache. (I know! What a silly requirement! But I kind of dug mustaches, and I still do ;)

I entered the local Christian college intent on getting a teaching degree and meeting Mr. Right.  This was back in the day before computers and texting. There was only one way to get to know someone and that was to talk to them.  Ah, the good old days :)  Since I always preferred old homes, I chose to stay in the oldest dorm on campus. Muffitt Hall, an ancient brick building that housed only women.  Across the lawn was Ormston, the oldest men's dorm.

I was determined to break out of my shell and the best way to do that was to cross that lawn and plunk myself down in Ormston's t.v. lounge, which I did as soon as possible.  Oh my, the boys were plentiful.  As I sat on the sofa watching Roots with a group of other newbies, in walked Earl.  He and a friend sat down on the same sofa, the friend introduced us, and Earl reached over, put his hand on my knee and said Hellloooo Kathy! in the deepest, most resonant voice I had ever heard.

To Be Continued........... The Story of my Life, Part 2