Today, My Beloved Sandra and I are
celebrating our 22nd “meet-aversary”,
on the quarter-century mark.
We met at The Valley House Inn in Orleans, VT. The cars were a little newer than those pictured above, but The Valley House looked pretty much the same back in ’91. The downstairs windows on the front porch were the windows of the inn’s bar where, a day before the real fireworks began, she came waltzing up to me and uttered her famous first words. I won’t share them with you because she and I disagree about what they were but, frankly, she can’t really remember so I figure I’m free to make up whatever story I like. (Hint: see post title)
I was visiting family in Orleans, having come up from Connecticut for the 4th of July, sitting at the bar, glumly sucking down successive Rolling Rocks and the occasional Cuervo shooter, trying to get over a particularly unpleasant breakup. She came into the bar with one of her friends. I swear I saw them flip a coin to see who would come on over to harass the Pitiful Flatlander.
They tossed the coin, but I was the winner.
Even 22 years later, I’m still counting my blessings. Thank you, my darling Sandra, for saving me.