It is sometimes amazing how an incident that happens makes you think of something that has happened in the past. The incident does not even need to be relayed to past thought. It’s just that a quirk in your brain connects the two.
As we often think of the past, the blonde of the house and I decided to write the story of our lives. None of us would write a book that we would publish. Rather, it would just be written to give our children a narrative form following our years from our birth to the present day. Like quite a few years ago, it’s probably going to take a while so you have to move.
We have both started our work. I haven’t seen hers and she hasn’t seen mine.
I can’t wait to read her early story to see what happened before I brushed it off. I am at this point in my essay. It involves the day we got engaged. She lived in Pittsburgh and I was in a suburb.
I asked her if she would like to visit my Uncle Everitt who lived in Beaver, PA which was not far away. She indicated that it would be good. What I hadn’t told him was that good old Uncle Everitt owned a jewelry store. I had contacted him and informed him that I was looking for an engagement ring and indicated the funds I had for this purpose – which was not much by the way.
I did not advise my wife to be (hoped for) what I had planned. I intended, once inside the store, to say something like, “Hey, would you like to look at some engagement rings?” “ However, what really happened was when I opened the door Uncle Everitt said, “Is this the young lady for the engagement ring”? I looked at her and she smiled. We went to the counter and found one that he liked – and that I could afford. After thanking Uncle Everitt, we returned to Pittsburgh and amazed some people including his mother – who by the way approved. I then led an enchanted life.
We got married a few months later. We spent our honeymoon in the Poconos. We had an expensive honeymoon which cost $ 128 for the week – including meals, of course. It was good because I was only making $ 315 per month.
In any case, we had married life for two months to the day when I received an opinion from the editorial board. We ended up in Fort. Gordon, GA for the remainder of my years of military service – after training at Fort. Jackson, SC. Once released, I took a job in Roanoke, Virginia, and then ran The Blonde across six states and eleven different communities during my career as a general manager. We have covered a lot of territory and many experiences in our stay through the management of the city. Now we look at them from our perspective here in The Villages.
You now know the rest of the story! OK, not all the rest but a part anyway. The best I can do at the moment!
Columnist Barry Evans is a villager.