Sometimes I get lucky, and sometimes I make the right decisions

Eleven years ago my lovely wife agreed, in front of witnesses, to spend the rest of our lives together. There was family, there were friends, and there were thousands of cicadas.

There was also a harpist playing the peanuts theme, in a kilt.

"Start, as you plan on continuing", or something like that.

We still have our family, our friends (though sometimes those lines get fuzzy), and somehow the perfect soundtrack wafting in from the background.

Four children, four jobs, two houses, brief dark times, amazingly consistent good times, and a never ending belief that I was both extremely lucky and extremely wise in snatching her up. This is the life that I had always dreamed of having, and never believed that I would actually have.

Eleven years. Not a bad start.