"And I don't know how I survived those days
Before I held your hand
Well I never thought that I would be the one
To admit that the moon and the sun
Shine so much more brighter when
Seen through two pairs of eyes than
When seen through just one..."
--Anniversary Song, Cowboy Junkies
Yesterday was our 8th wedding anniversary.
My husband is a mountain man, happiest and most at peace when he's far away from electricity, flush toilets and other people.
Me, on the other hand? I like flush toilets. Also, I'm embarrassingly afraid of bears.
Every opportunity we have for a get-away is met with this tension: Me, wanting a sweet little B&B somewhere in a beautiful place where someone else makes the coffee and cooks, and Hubby, craving a 5 day backpacking trip in the mountains.
This year, we compromised with a two-night stay (without the kids!) at a lovely riverside cabin (with flush toilets!) in the Sierra Mountains of California, taking full advantage of free grandparent babysitting.
We got caught in a bizarre thunder & lightening & hail storm, necessitating our swift departure from our mountain lake destination on day 2 of our trip, and resulting in a hilarious, freezing, muddy and very wet 4-mile trail run back to our car at the trail head.
I feel grateful every single day for the mountain man I married. Happy Anniversary, honey.