Linking up with Like Mother, Like Daughter.
Last fall, the landlord asked my husband if we really liked this rose bush because he was thinking of cutting it down. Why? Because he likes things to be symmetrical, and this lone bush in the front of our asymmetrical house didn’t offer the right balance. My husband knows I love this bush, so he strongly urged the man to spare it.
Getting ready to sing me “Happy Birthday.” I had a fabulous day…enough spoiling to last until my 50th.
Mary and Peter were having some sort of war game. I just love how Mary needs to dress appropriately for battle: light sabre, beret, fancy dress.
My gray hairs. I tried hard to take this picture myself, but couldn’t get it right. I asked my husband, and he only did it under duress. “Why do you want a picture of your gray hairs?” he demanded. He insists that I am perpetually 18 – the age when we met. He just feels guilty for causing the gray.
This is also real, but prettier – I had Fritz take one of my sister and I while I had makeup on, hair curled, and contacts lenses in. I think I took the contacts out right after this. They bother my eyes so much. My sister, who is 5 years younger than I am, was getting a bit distressed that several times we’d been asked by strangers if we were twins. “Do I look 40?” she moaned. The appropriate response is that we both look 30. Right?