As we celebrate my grandmother's life this week, I am also celebrating my third wedding anniversary.
This poor man has put up with me for seven years, and actually had to live with me for the past three.
This is no easy feat, people. I'm kind of a space hog.
On our first anniversary, we had a big party. But the following day (on our actual anniversary) we hung out on the couch, eating pizza and watching football with Cousin Eddie.
On our second anniversary, I made a feast of a meal. Only to have him work late on the farm. We ended up splitting our dinner for two between ourselves, our farm manager and another worker in the shop that night.
And now on our third anniversary, he is on the farm plowing and I am at home in Kansas. Too busy to talk, we texted each other happy anniversary.
So yes, you could say romance is alive and well in our marriage.
But somehow I manage to love him more and more every day.
I never did understand married people when they would say they love their spouse more with each passing year.
I get it now.
Without him, I am nothing.
Without me, he's probably having the time of his life with the house and farm all to himself right now.
And just for that, I'm going to post this picture that he hates.
Sorry honey, I know you think you look bald in it, but it's a decent one of me.
And for the record, I tried to find an editing tool online to add in some hair. But was unsuccessful.